Giggles by Clara Marshall

Seventh-day Adventist Missionary Society · Oakland, Cal. · Oct 25, 1883

Giggles.

By Clara Marshall

MY DEAR NELLIE: If you knew what an aversion I have to your beloved word, funny, I do not think you would, in your last letter, have used it so often and in so many different senses. For instance: "Mrs. Duval's aunt arranged her hair in such a funny style."

In this case I presume funny means fantastic.

"Kate Stephens writes such funny compositions for a grown girl."

Here I take it for granted that funny means faulty.

"The new teacher has such a funny way of talking."

An odd way, possibly.

"We hear such funny noises in the garret at night."

In this case what on earth does funny mean?

I am sorry this word of many meanings is such a pet with you, because Webster informs us that fun is a low word; and, like Goldsmith's ale-house keeper, "I hate anything that's low." I remember Mrs. Southgate's remarking on an occasion that girls who talked about "having fun" were generally those who found more to laugh at in the disarranged dress of a stranger on the street than in the wittiest speech they ever listened to.

"Yes," returned Maggie Yates, who was always quick in making applications; "I heard Amelia Dixon say yesterday that she and Jennie 'had lots of fun;' in fact, 'nearly killed themselves laughing' the last time they were in town, because there was a lady walking in front of them who was dressed within an inch of her life, and didn't know that her back hair was coming down."

"They actually died laughing, to let them tell it," said Sue Mansfield, "when Mr. Haas fell down the steps the other day. I suppose that was fun for them, too; although he hurt his knee so badly."

"Fun and giggles always go together in my mind," observed Belle Templeton. "I was quite shocked the other day when a friend of father's, who called here to see me, remarked that the last time he saw me I was at 'the giggling age.' 'My dear sir,' said I, 'I never was at the giggling age.' 'I mean you were just about fourteen,' said he; and then he went on and quoted some silly lines about young girls being all blushes and giggles."

"I think I know how they begin," said Mollie Archer.

" 'Tis true your budding miss, is very charming, But shy and awkward on first coming out; So much alarmed that she is quite alarming; All giggle, blush, half pertness, and half pout." Now, I don't consider that a very attractive description, especially the giggling part. I don't know how it is with men, but I am sure giggles would never charm me."

"I think the writer would leave the giggles out if he had been in the chapel last Sunday," observed Maggie Yates.

"Mrs. Duval wasn't there to keep the Dixons in order, and they giggled from the time the preacher (that theological student from B—), you know? came in the door until he had given out the first hymn. I overheard some one ask them what on earth was the matter, and Amelia replied that they 'couldn't keep in' because he had such big feet and held his elbows so funny."

"What is the meaning of funny and fun?" asked Laura Lamar.

"Ask Amelia Dixon," replied Maggie. "She uses those words oftener than any one else."

"I think fun is whatever produces giggles," observed Mollie.

"And I think it is the cause of 'the loud laugh that tells the vacant mind,'" said Mrs. Southgate.

"Yes," rejoined Mollie; "the last time I was monitress there were such yells and screeches of laughter in Room 27 that Mrs. Duval sent me to see what was the matter, and when Amelia Dixon opened the door she informed me that they were having 'lots of fun' in there. I didn't stop to ask what it was, only delivered Mrs. Duval's scolding and came away; but I heard afterwards they were screeching because their poor French room mate was trying to speak English, and naturally making mistakes."

"I am sure they themselves make mistakes enough in trying to speak English," observed Sue; "but it takes very little to make them screech, and as for giggling! why they were giggling off and on through the whole history recitation yesterday, and all because some nation thought the conqueror who subjugated them was the very devil himself." Jennie said that was "so awful funny."

"O, girls!" exclaimed Mrs. Southgate, out of all patience; "don't any of the rest of you ever giggle or talk about 'having fun?' It is not your place to criticise or correct the failings of your schoolmates."

"I never have Dixonian fun," returned Mollie; "and, as for giggling, I am not likely to be guilty of that as long as I have those girls' example for a warning."

"Everything has its uses," observed Belle, "even a girl of the Dixon genus."

"Yes," said Mrs. Southgate, reprovingly. "The example of a girl of that kind shows you just what you would have been if you had grown up among her surroundings, and it ought to make you thankful for your superior social advantages, and the care and training of a mother who is something more than housekeeper for the family."

"In short," said Mollie, "be thankful that you can laugh decently at what is really laughable, instead of 'having fun' at the sight of awkward gestures and big feet, and giggling consumedly like those poor Dixons."—Clara Marshall, in Christian at Work.