Bitch Anarchy

From VIOLETS AND OTHER TALES by ALICE·RUTH·MOORE, (c) 1895BY THE MONTHLY REVIEW via The Project Gutenberg When Miss Sophie knew consciousness again, the long, faint, swelling notes of the organ were dying away in distant echoes through the great arches of the silent church, and she was alone, crouching in a little, forsaken, black heap at…

From VIOLETS AND OTHER TALES by ALICE·RUTH·MOORE, (c) 1895BY THE MONTHLY REVIEW via The Project Gutenberg To the casual observer, the quaint, narrow, little alley that lies in the heart of the city is no more than any other of the numerous divisions of streets in which New Orleans delights. But to the idle wanderer,…

A great splashing arose, and when Evan recovered the use of his eyes, the pagoda-hat had taken a sudden turn, and seemed making for the farthest point of the goal. “I am sure of her now,” thought Frank; and, like a gallant sea-god, he bore down upon his prize, clutching it with a shout of…

“Now don’t be an idiot, Joe, but, if you want to keep your hand in and go through a regular chapter of flirtation, just right about face, and devote yourself to some one else. Nothing like jealousy to teach womankind their own minds, and a touch of it will bring little Wilder round in a…

“Dora, Mr. Ellenborough is coming this way; you have danced with him but once, and he is a very desirable partner; so, pray, accept, if he asks you,” said Mrs. Carroll, watching a far-off individual who seemed steering his zigzag course toward them. “I never intend to dance with Mr. Ellenborough again, so please don’t…

Debby took her swimming-lesson with much success, and would have achieved her dinner with composure, if white-aproned gentleman had not effectually taken away her appetite by whisking bills-of-fare into her hands, and awaiting her orders with a fatherly interest, which induced them to congregate mysterious dishes before her, and blandly rectify her frequent mistakes. She…

“Thank you for your warning, but I don’t apprehend much annoyance of that kind,” she said, demurely. “Do you know, I think, if young ladies were truthfully labelled when they went into society, it would be a charming fashion and save a world of trouble? Something in this style:–‘Arabella Marabout, aged nineteen, fortune $100,000, temper…

“Charming! really elegant!” cried that lady, emerging from her towel with a rubicund visage. “Drop that braid half an inch lower, and pull the worked end of her handkerchief out of the right-hand pocket, Vic. There! Now, Dora, don’t run about and get rumpled, but sit quietly down and practice repose till I am ready.”…

By Louisa May Alcott, 1863 On a cheery June day Mrs. Penelope Carroll and her niece Debby Wilder were whizzing along on their way to a certain gay watering-place, both in the best of humors with each other and all the world beside. Aunt Pen was concocting sundry mild romances, and laying harmless plots for the…

Bertha had been in town three months now. Sykes was still paying her room rent at Della Lewis’—the only house in town that would have taken her in. Sykes took her frequently to Winter Park to “stomps.” He still assured her that he was the swellest man in the state. “Sho’ you kin have dat…