The final days of August frequently bring change. We come to the end of the summer months and move on to new things. And if we’re lucky enough to have wise counsel – like Chiffonnette – we might learn some lessons along the way.
Enjoy this translation from La Poupée Modèle, circa August, 1865. And be sure to share it with all of your own Poupées!
Le Depart de Chiffonnette
Finally, Lily, we’re leaving! But it was not without difficulty, I assure you. . . I thought we would never manage to leave Paris.
And then, besides the fear of seeing our trip missed, what worries, what hassle! Ah! My dear, how happy you are when you have a mother who thinks of everything for you, who prepares your belongings, who packs your cases!
It’s not that I’m complaining about Bonne Aimie, who has for me all the care, all the attentions of a real mother, oh! No. Nor that I find it disagreeable, deep down, to have to occupy myself with these little preparations which are so amusing and so varied. . . but voila, they are too varied, you get lost when you’re not used to it.
“Chiffonnette,” she said to me, “here you are, you’re becoming grown up, I won’t bother about your preparations this year. Take a good look at what you can take with you, see what you’re missing, then tell me. I’ll give you all the advice I can, and if you have to buy something, we’ll buy it, but I won’t get involved in anything personally.”
“Good, Good Friend,” I answered, quite happy to be treated like a grown-up. It seemed to me that it should be easy to govern oneself!
Between us, I believe that our Old Doll foresaw that I would not come out of it to my credit, but she wanted to teach me a lesson. I am independent, by nature; I don’t really like to take other people’s opinions. . . she was thus going to show me that a little girl is not capable of directing herself.
Our agreements made, I had a large trunk brought to my room, and, under the pretext of seeing what I had to take – but in reality because I was having fun tidying up, unpacking and holding all my belongings one by one – I began to turn my drawers and small wardrobe upside down.
As I found something to my liking, I said to myself: I’ll take it, it can be useful. . . you have to think ahead!
And I piled ribbons on ribbons, hats on hats, coats on coats, dresses on dresses. . . There were some for summer, for winter, for cool evenings, for foggy weather, for going out, for staying at home. All accompanied by a supply of rain boots, parasols, capelines, trinkets of all kinds, not to mention a whole host of useless trifles, both for my amusement and for my adornment. I only forgot one thing: my notebooks and my books!
Ah! and then another thing that proves how frivolous and careless I was: shoes!
I was going to leave with a load of different toilets and. . . no shoes!
In short, my room was so cluttered that I looked like I was moving house. But this was nothing! It was when it came to packing up everything I had put aside that I was embarrassed.
My trunk was overflowing with things and it was tight! And my overnight bag was full too. All I had left was a little box the size of my two hands, and in which I still had to pack a ravishing empire hat, red and white, which had just arrived from La Poupée de Nuremburg. I was so confused!
To make matters worse, Bonne Amie’s cat sneaked into the apartment and began to play with all my belongings. He even, with no respect for it’s crispness, knocked down my pretty new hat, and was amusing himself by chasing after its ties when Frivoline entered.
She came to see what I was doing with my preparations. I confided my embarrassment to her; she only laughed and pretended that she would soon have found a way to put it all together. . . But, as usual, Frivoline was joking. She was no more skillful than I, and fortunately Bonne Amie came to our rescue.
Our Old Doll began by making me remove everything I had piled up somehow in my boxes and showed me that my dresses, thus packed, would have arrived at their destination in a deplorable state. Then she sorted out what was really useful from what wasn’t. … so that instead of running out of space, I had far too much, and was still amply supplied with everything I might need. But what a thing it is to know how to organize! The useless things I wanted to take with me doubled my luggage by more than half, not to mention the necessary items they would have damaged with their weight!
This proved once again to me, and to Frivoline, that children can never rely too confidently on the expert advice of their parents and true friends.
I shall still gain, by this arrangement, a host of new luggage straps, for Bonne Amie, perceiving that I lacked them, immediately sent, with her usual generosity, to order them from the rue de Choiseul. This gave me an extra headache, as you can imagine. As it was at the last moment, I feared that they would overlook my order, and I was envisioning the worst.
Fortunately, Madame Lavallée-Péronne is exact. Within a quarter of an hour, everything arrived just as I’d been promised, but how long that quarter of an hour seemed!
And now that all my luggage is here, under lock and key, and I’m sure I haven’t forgotten anything, and I’m just waiting for the moment to get in the car, goodbye, Lily!
I’m going to spend my vacations with Bleuette, and I’m sure I’ll acquire some new knowledge which I’ll pass on to you, because our little friend, thanks to her good grandfather, is as knowledgeable as she is modest.
I don’t think I’ll be writing to you from Val-Fleuri, unless something serious happens. But perhaps you’ll still receive the continuation of Cahier de Bleuette; there’s a big advance supply at the printers, as Bleuette talks more often with her bon-papa than our newspaper does.
Come on, one more kiss, my dear, and wish me a good trip and more Wisdom than I had last year at Monsieur V. . .
If you get overwhelmed too, don’t forget the story of my trunk and tell yourself that an abundance of good things. . . can be a nightmare!