Youth Doesn't Need Friends --

Death Is The Only Real Elegance.

The Flapper Awoke From Her Lethargy Of Sub-deb-ism, Bobbed Her Hair, Put On Her Choicest Pair Of Earrings And A Great Deal Of Audacity And Rouge And Went Into The Battle. She Flirted Because It Was Fun To Flirt And Wore A One-piece Bathing Suit Because She Had A Good Figure She Was Conscious That The Things She Did Were The Things She Had Always Wanted To Do. Mothers Disapproved Of Their Sons Taking The Flapper To Dances, To Teas, To Swim And Most Of All To Heart.

She Felt The Essence Of Herself Pulled Finer And Smaller Like Those Streams Of Spun Glass That Pull And Stretch Till There Remains But A Glimmering Illusion. Neither Falling Nor Breaking, The Stream Spins Finer. She Felt Herself Very Small And Ecstatic. Alabama Was In Love.

They Hadn't Much Faith In Travel, Nor A Great Belief In A Change Of Scene As A Panacea For Spiritual Ills; They Were Simply Glad To Be Going.

Looking For Love Is Like Asking For A New Point Of Departure ... Another Chance In Life.