Marcy S., age 17, Ontario


Beautiful day. Windy, cool. Mr. Dawkes came over and invited us for a boat ride in the afternoon. We had dinner about 3:00 and left with him at 4:00. Oh, yes, in the morning, Mary led Mr. Dawkes to think that I have millions of boyfriends and he teased me all afternoon. It was sorta fun, pretending. He took us out to Whitefish. We would have gone out in the open lake, he said, but it was too windy. The water was so clear and blue and out beyond the islands were the whitecaps. We landed on this side of Whitefish and walked through the woods to the other side of the island. The pine needles covered the path and it wound through a fairy land. When we came out on the other side, the waves were dashing against the rocks, and the sun made them sparkle like diamonds. We walked along the shore, picking up fishermen’s floats, and examining peculiar rocks, which Mr. Dawkes told us about. He kept saying something about my boyfriends and then I told him something about Lester, so he teased Mary awhile. We had fun, walking and slipping on the rocks. The surf roared in our ears. We went over on the little strip of land, harboring one house, and then back around to the boat. There was a summer cottage and a dock nearby. While Mr. Dawkes pumped the gas in the engine (we had an awful time getting started from the dock) I relieved myself behind some bushes. Mary had to, too, but didn’t have time. 

We all piled in and set out for home. Mr. Dawkes let me steer while he and Mary sat up in the middle. I sang “Red Sails in the Sunset,” which was almost drowned by the noise of the motor — thank goodness! I could hear Mr. Dawkes and Mary talking, but couldn’t understand what they said. Mary kept turning around and laughing, and once she looked at me almost pityingly. 

When we got back to the dock Mr. Dawkes asked us to go for his mail as well as ours. It was about 6:00. On the way to the post I asked Mary what she and Mr. Dawkes had been talking about. She laughed and I began guessing, knowing it concerned me. She told me it wasn’t anything about Prof or any other boys. And then she said that Mr. Dawkes had said something about me that she had considered an insult. Was I mad? but I didn’t show it then. I begged her to tell me and she said, as usual, after she has aroused your curiosity, to forget it. But I couldn’t forget it. She asked if I would if she’d tell me one thing and I promised. Then we reached the mail and there was none. Mrs. Dawkes had gotten theirs. Mary was quite worried but I wasn’t sympathetic then. 

She told me that Mr. Dawkes had said that my singing and the engine were a duet. Now that was mean! I still kept begging her to tell me what the “insult” was and she said it wouldn’t be fair to me or to Mr. Dawkes to tell me. I was just boiling! She said it deliberately to hurt me! She looked and sounded and acted so superior and said that if anyone had said that about her, she would certainly have taken it as an insult. She then, when all the harm was done, said she was sorry, and I blew up and said, “You’re not sorry! You’re always doing things like this, apologizing, and then going right ahead and doing them again. I don’t call that being sorry!” Oh, Diary, just then I despised Mary! 

Got back to cottage. I went in. Presently couldn’t find Mary. Hunted for her. Mother in house. Found her sitting on car running board, crying. Couldn’t comfort her — ’cause didn’t feel like it. Went for walk on shore. Felt like committing suicide. Met Margery and Janet coming back. They saw Mary had been crying. Beautiful moon. Back to cottage. Played games in dining room. To bed.