I adore ships

One of the great passions of my life has been sea-faring. One would not know this to gaze upon my pale visage and feeble constitution, but an adventurous streak runs through me as surely as the Mississippi River runs through some of the more pastoral of the 46 states of our glorious nation! I insist on being the first on the passenger list of any new ship that is christened; ‘tis fortuitous that Papá is none other than the eminent industrialist, Adolphus Hilliard van Seethinbottom III, for he is able to easily secure my passage on any great vessel which may sail the mighty seas (but not, dare I say, the vile Black Sea; once one passes through the straits of Dardanelles, one may witness a dizzying array of malfeasant activities committed by the various unsavoury peoples that populate her shores. Likewise, I should not like to travel too close to the horrendous shores of old Eire). By far the most exciting ocean liner I have sailed on was the RMS Mauretania. I insisted on journeying on her maiden voyage from Liverpool, a fetid, plebeian city which will never yield any productive or renowned citizens. The Mauretania’s interior was as stately as Mr. Rockefeller’s summer cottage; its meals as lavish as I could expect from the finest hotels of Paris or Monaco.

At this moment in Britain the White Star Line has undertaken the daunting task of constructing three ships that shall rival even the largest and most opulent liners of the grand Cunard Line. The RMS Olympic sailed on her maiden voyage last month, and I threw a fit unbecoming of a lady when Papá refused to grant me permission to be the first to board, due to my recent psychic maladies. However, White Star is working on two sister ships, the RMS Gigantic and the RMS Titanic, the latter of which was launched earlier this year and shall embark on her maiden voyage in the spring. Certes, to be seen on her hull as she departs the brackish waters surrounding Merrie Olde England will be the society event of the year. In addition to being the most luxurious of ships, pioneers of seafaring technology are deeming these ships positively unsinkable, due to their extra-ordinary engineering. It is my greatest hope that Drs. Weißmüller, Frankenthaler, et al. pronounce me well by April of next year so that I may participate in this historic event.




The grand RMS Olympic leaving port.

An electric belt to cure what ails one

Tillie, my nursemaid since I was just a wee one, insisted I purchase this new-fangled item:



'Tis an electric belt, constructed using the most modern technology, and meant to cure my consumption and neurasthenia, and my many other maladies, some of which are not fit to mention in a public forum.

Of course, Papá thinks that tubercular symptoms are pleasant for the eye of young suitors, and that these need not be cured. I of course told him that I am betrothed to Horace and have no further need for men to be attentive to me, but he still thinks it unbecoming for a virginal lady to gain weight above 90 pounds and to have a flush restored to her glabrate face, let alone for her to breathe without wheezing and grasping for the nearest firm bicep to steady her! He certainly would deem it a stain on our family were my waist to grow too girthful to squeeze into my 18” corset. I told him he need not worry, that this new electric belt would only alleviate my symptoms enough so that I do not faint so often and may have the strength to leave the safety of my boudoir on a more regular basis.
.....
This morning I received this delightful card from Horace:



Ah, the wonders of love!