The STORY
of
MARY MACLANE

BY HERSELF

CHICAGO
HERBERT S. STONE AND COMPANY
MCMII

[Contents]

JANUARY 1901
[13]	I of womankind and of nineteen years
[14]	I have in me the germs of intense life
[15]	So then, yes. I find myself at this stage of womankind
[16]	I feel about forty years old
[17]	As I have said, I want Fame
[18]	And meanwhile—as I wait—my mind occupies itself
[19]	I come from a long line of Scotch and Canadian
[20]	I have said that I am alone. I am not quite
[21]	Happiness, don’t you know, is of three kinds
[22]	It is night. I might well be in my bed
[23]	I have eaten my dinner. I have had, among other things
[24]	I am charmingly original
[25]	I can remember a time long, oh, very long ago
[26]	I sit at my window and look out upon
[27]	This is not a diary. It is a Portrayal
[28]	I am an artist of the most artistic, the highest type
[29]	As I read over now and then what I have written
[30]	An idle brain is the Devil’s workshop, they say
[31]	To-day as I walked out I was impressed deeply

FEBRUARY
[1]	Oh, the wretched bitter loneliness of me!
[2]	I have been looking over the confessions of the Bashkirtseff
[3]	The town of Butte presents a wonderful field
[4]	Always I wonder, when I die will there be any one
[7]	In this house where I drag out my accursed
[8]	Often I walk out to a place on the flat valley
[12]	I am in no small degree, I find, a sham
[13]	So then … I find that I am quite, quite odd
[17]	To-day I walked over the hill where
[20]	At times when I walk among the natural things
[22]	Life is a pitiful thing
[23]	I stand in the midst of my sand and barrenness
[25]	Mary MacLane—what are you, you forlorn
[28]	To-day when I walked over my sand and barrenness

MARCH
[2]	Often in the early morning I leave my bed
[5]	Sometimes I am seized with nearer, vivider
[8]	There are several things in the world for which I
[9]	It is astonishing to me how very many contemptible
[10]	My genius is an element by itself
[11]	Sometimes when I go out on the barrenness
[12]	Everything is so dreary—so dreary
[13]	If it were pain alone that one must bear
[14]	I have been placed in this world with eyes to see
[15]	In these days of approaching emotional Nature
[16]	To-day I walked over the sand
[17]	In some rare between-whiles it is as if nothing mattered
[18]	But yes. It all matters, whether or no
[19]	On a day when the sky is like lead
[20]	There were pictures in the red sunset sky to-day
[21]	Some people think, absurdly enough, that to be Scotch
[22]	I fear, … fine world, that you do not yet know me
[23]	My philosophy, I find after very little analysis
[25]	One of the remarkable points about my life is that
[26]	Now and again I have torturing glimpses of a Paradise
[28]	Hatred, after all, is the easiest thing of all to bear
[29]	I am making the world my confessor in this Portrayal
[31]	“She only said: ‘My life is dreary

APRIL
[2]	How can any one bring a child into the world and not
[3]	This evening in the slow-deepening dusk I sat by
[4]	I have asked for bread, sometimes
[10]	I have a sense of humor that partakes of the divine
[11]	I write a great many letters to the dear anemone lady
[12]	Oh, the dreariness, the Nothingness!
[13]	I am sitting writing out on my sand and barrenness

L’ENVOI: OCTOBER
[28]	And so there you have my Portrayal

The STORYofMARY MACLANE

[Contents]

The STORY
of
MARY MACLANE