For several years, my little school kept me in the city near both my
friends. The Professor’s wife was not actively in my life, however,
after the night when I made my last desperate fight for motherhood.
No one will ever know what my suffering was or has been and will ever be
that I was not to know the joy of having a living child. Remembering the
grief it was to me to see my mother brooding over the little toys and
garments of her lost children, I immediately gave away all of the pretty
things which I had so happily prepared for the little ones. Never again
was I even tempted to marry, though suitors old and new appeared at
different times.
My actress friend was still the favored one and, although I lived in my
studio where I had my school, we had many evenings together, with music
and theaters, and many evenings alone in my studio, where some wonderful
love making (as we thought it to be) took place.
I knew this was not the ideal love of my life, which I always hoped
would come to me, yet it was not merely animal attraction. The desire to
make her happy, in a way she had never known before, was brought on by
some great impulse, stirred by hearing some wonderful music or by a
visit to the various picture galleries in which I would spend hours.
Pictures alive with soul and atmosphere would stir me as would beautiful
music. Beauty would inspire me to do better the work before me and to
broaden my views of life in many ways; to forget myself and the
suffering I had endured. Indeed, I felt I was a better woman after I had
looked upon some great work of art. Hard as it may be to believe it,
there would come a real spiritual uplift such as never came through the
prescribed channels of churchly religion.
Corot was and ever has been my idol in the world of art. It was my joy
to perform certain secretarial duties in an art gallery where I could
absorb and study four of Corot’s most famous works. I was always
thankful that I had inherited from my father a love and an appreciation
of these paintings. These paintings the father of my employer had taken
for debt, and bequeathed, along with many millions of dollars, to his
daughter, who had no conception of art in any form.
I cannot refrain here from a little reminiscence. During this period of
my work, I was commissioned to buy a small rug to fit a special place in
this art gallery. The thrill I felt when I discovered a little Bokhara,
the color and texture of which would melt in your mouth, or rather into
your heart! It did into mine, so I ordered it sent to the house on
approval. No special enthusiasm was shown when I exhibited the prize,
yet it was placed on the floor for consideration. The delight I had with
that bit of color all day cannot be described. First in the bright
sunlight, again in the shadow; now in the candle glow and then in the
glare of the electric lights. Always a new thrill.
That was _my rug day_. Time has never erased the joy of that day. The
following day the rug was returned, with the casual remark that a maid
had discovered it to have been slightly worn in one or two places, which
showed that a second-hand rug had been thrust upon an unsuspecting
secretary. I am quite sure that she never did any more buying from a
firm which would send her a second-hand rug! What was the use! I did not
even try to explain. She probably never knew that the same rug was later
placed in a wonderful collection and a much more marvelous price paid
for it than at which it was offered to her.
I think I have mentioned the fact that I was left in a very terrible
condition after my two confinements. It was necessary for me to be
mended before I would be able to carry on my work and support myself.
After months of treatment I was at last ready for the operation which
was to restore to normal the work of the country “butchers,” as the
specialist called them. The operation was very complicated, but after a
few weeks in the hospital, the doctor pronounced the results
satisfactory and said that I was as good as new.
I did ask him if he considered it wise for me to have a child again and
he said there could be no possible danger. I think I may have asked this
as a sort of test for myself; also to assure myself of the fallacy of
doctors pronouncing the fatal words to so many women. Had I been wise
then as I am today and if the views of man had been different, I feel
convinced that I might have had a child some time by a father chosen
just for that occasion. I realize, however, that there are quite a few
questions to be settled before that method may be entirely fair to the
child.
My city contact had caused me to look at myself less and less as a
sexual monstrosity. I was thrown in a great measure with people who saw
only the feminine side of my nature.
About this time my husband divorced me on the grounds of desertion. I
could have brought counter suit on the grounds of non-support, but I had
no desire to do so. If he wanted to marry again I was glad—for him—so I
made no protest, not even appearing. My lawyer notified me when the
divorce was granted and of the time when I would be free to marry again.
I was urged by friends and suitors to marry, but I had firmly made up my
mind that I could never again endure the intimacy of a man as a husband,
and on this point I never changed my mind.
I met many charming men. I enjoyed their companionship and always felt
more at home with them as a group than with a lot of women. I looked at
life through a man’s eyes. Women as individuals interested me but men,
never. I did not fall in love with women but I was ever groping to find
the Perfect Mate who I believed existed for me. Mentality and tastes
were first considerations, and it was a long hunt.
Now opens what I feel to be the most important and probably the most
significant era in my life. By this time I had firmly made up my mind
that the masculine role was the one which appealed to me far more than
that of the female, which I had been trying to play and with such little
success. I believed that “All the world’s a stage.” I had played the
different parts assigned to me, or chosen by myself, as well as I could.
I had so far been a poor manager for myself. My work under the direction
of an employer was always more than satisfactory.
Notwithstanding these facts, I felt the urge to start out for myself not
only in a business way but also wholly in control of my emotional
nature, which I was beginning to understand a little better.
I had always been fond of amusing children, and one time I hit upon an
easily constructed toy which always delighted them. It came to my mind
one day that as this toy had an expanse of paper, it could be used for
advertising purposes. I went to my parents’ home, much to their delight,
and to test out my idea, I made a few of these toys and tried them “on
the dog,” so to speak. That is, I went to the nearest large town and in
one day I easily secured forty dollars worth of “ads.” That amount would
be net to me after all expenses were paid.
I bought enough paper at retail prices to make up a few thousand of
these toys and found that I was able to sell them without any trouble,
wherever I went, in all the towns near home. I was convinced that I had
a good business if I handled it myself. I then bought a ton of paper
direct from the mill, taught a few people to make the toys, and applied
for a patent, which I secured later.
Then I started out and worked all the small towns in the vicinity and
then the nearby cities. I got orders as fast as I could travel, and soon
had to buy some simple machines to expedite the manufacture and so
hasten the delivery.
It was a most interesting as well as a remunerative experience. In those
days a woman salesman was unknown. I always dressed in a tailor-made
suit with a man’s shirt and tie, and wore a Fedora hat.
When I entered a store, got in touch with the proprietor, and stated my
business, it was amusing to watch the customers, clerks, other salesmen
“stop, look, and listen.” Here was apparently a cultivated lady,
speaking good English, selling something she had invented herself! An
unheard of thing. The ease with which I sold the toy astonished any
drummer who might be in the store at the time I went in. I always asked
them to finish their business before I took the floor, but they were so
curious to see what I was doing that they always insisted upon my going
ahead.
I stopped at the best hotels and many times, while I was at dinner in
the evening, these drummers would come to my table, introduce
themselves, and begin to talk business. They had seen me selling the toy
and all wanted to carry it as a side line.
I was only too anxious to find someone who could sell it, for, while it
was interesting for a while for me to try the sales end of the business,
I could see that it would be far more interesting for me to sit at my
desk and manage a much larger business, if I were able to recruit an
efficient staff of workers.
I made business arrangements with several of these drummers but, for
some reason, they were never able to sell the toy. I then realized it
was up to me to do the selling. The success I had gained was probably
due to my having invented it and also, perhaps, to the fact that I had
some personality—always a great factor in the selling of ideas.
I was pleased with the attitude of these drummers on my trips. At that
time, they were regarded as a rather gay lot with the ladies, and I saw
many things in my travels to substantiate that conception. With me it
was different. They were always courteous, and there never was an
attempt at flirting. I approached men as man to man, and they respected
my attitude. I was glad that I rarely had to do business with women.
They always eyed me with a degree of disapproval, and I could see that
my severe style of dress did not appeal to them. I enlarged the field of
my operations and was getting more and more into the class where I could
sell the toys by the thousand to one firm rather than solicit a number
of advertisers on one toy.
I write of this experience only as it leads up to “the great adventure,”
so to speak.
During this period of over a year, my emotional or sexual nature was
dormant. I put my whole heart and soul into that business, for I
believed in it. It was a success financially and I was able to give
occupation to many women in the little country town, much to their
delight.
As I came in contact with women during that period, I came to look at
them as all women, never as woman. They were rather a disturbing
element, as I found them rather difficult in business. It was hard to
get their minds away from the, to them, eccentricities of my dress. One
could easily recognize that the “drummer” was the one great thrill in
their restricted lives, behind those tiresome counters. That women did
not attract me during this interval may not be significant, since,
naturally, I came in no social contact with any, and so never met any
who “spoke my own language” as it were. It also serves to show that
sexuality was not uppermost in my mind.