A Philanthropist, and A Reversion to Type by Josephine Daskam

By Josephine Daskam

Josephine avert Daskam, Mrs. Bacon (1876- 1961) was once a prolific American writer. She wrote many books between that are: Smith collage tales (1900), Sister's Vocation, and different women' tales (1900), Fables for the reasonable (1901), Whom the Gods Destroyed (1902), The insanity of Philip.. (1902), Poems (1903), within the Valley of the Shadow (1903), Julia the Apostate (1903), Mrs. Dud's Sister (1903), A Philanthropist (1903), A Reversion to sort (1903), heart elderly Love tales (1903), The dating of woman Jane (1903), Her Fiancé (1904), Memoirs of a child (1904), The Imp and the Angel (1907), family Adventurers (1907), Idyll of All Fool's Day (1908), within the Border kingdom (1909), The Biography of a Boy (1910), Inheritance (1912), unusual circumstances of Dr. Stanchon (1913), good fortune O' woman Joan (1913), To-day's Daughter (1914), Open industry (1915), Twilight of the Gods (1915) and Our Hill (1918).

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The girl did not discuss herself, the woman dared not. They talked of books, music, travel; never, as if by tacit agreement, of any of the countless possible personalities in a place so given to personal discussion. 37 A Reversion to Type She could not have told how she knew that the girl had come to college to please a mother whose great regret was to have missed such training, nor did she remember when her incurious friend had learned her tense determination of flight; she could have sworn that she had never spoken of it.

I will make you out an outline and give it to you after class to-morrow,” said the German assistant promptly. “Meanwhile, won’t you stay and make me a little call? ” “The invitation is inducement enough, I assure you,” smiled the girl, “but I must not stay to-day, I think. ” There was something easily decisive in her manner, something very different from the other students, who refused such invitations awkwardly, eager to be pressed, and when finally assured of a sincere welcome, prolonged their calls and talked about themselves into the uncounted hours.

As the door closed behind her the German assistant dropped her cordial smile, and sank back listlessly in her chair. ” she murmured. For almost an hour she sat looking fixedly at the unlit logs, hardly conscious of the wasted time. Much might have gone into that hour. There was tea for her at one of the college houses—the hostess had a “day,” and went so far as to aspire to the exclusive serving of a certain kind of tinned fancy biscuit every Friday—if she wanted to drop in. This hostess invited favored students to meet the faculty and townspeople on these occasions, and the two latter classes were expected to effect a social fusion with the former—which linked it, to some minds, a little too obviously with professional duties.

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