dolls are invariably stuffed with sawdust, and I
never
have a dear
gazelle to glad me with his dappled hide, but when he comes to know me
well he falls upon the buttered side--or something to that effect. I
hate poetry, anyhow--it's so mushy!"
And this from the Miss Hugonin who a week ago was interested in the
French
decadents
and partial to folk-songs from the Romaic! I think