male parts I take are comic. In female parts I fit in because I can think and feel as a woman thinks and feels. In Isabel The Catholic, I did not act the part. I lived it. I was Isabel, the Spanish Queen, and lived her life seven nights plus three matinees a week in word, feeling, and action.

I dislike being treated or thought of as a male, being called 'Mr.' starts me on a slow burn! I like to be thought of and treated as a lady, for that is what I really am in both sex and conduct. People ask, "If you wish to be thought of and treated as a lady, why don't you dress as one?" A good question, but only up to certain point. It must be remembered that though I am female, I still look like a male. I am after all the Girl-Boy. My undies are very much feminine, my little sox are girls'. I do not wear boys' socks. Although times wear girls' shoes, or sometimes boys' shoes, men's shoes are much too large for me, and I do find even boys' shoes terribly heavy. My slacks are feminine; I do not wear masculine trousers or slacks. My handkerchiefs are ladies' handkerchiefs. Really, cap, coat, shirt and tie are the only masculine articles of apparel I wear. My nails, too, are long and more rounded than the shorter square type of masculine nail. Then too, I wear my hair long, done up in a pony tail under my cap, and not closely cropped as does the male sex. When I do dress in feminine garb, I have wolf trouble and I don't like it. Oh I have wolf trouble at times in my masculine attire. I found out that some wolves wear skirts shame on you, girls, I'm not that kind of a boy!

Sometimes other girls, thinking me a male, feel that way about me and let me know it. These are really nice girls, and these are the times I momentarily wish I were the male I look to be, and somtimes my mind and heart become rather confused. It isn't easy for me to tell these really fine girls that it is impossible for me to think of marrying them as I am not the kind of a boy I look to be.

Vivian-As a Woman

As a woman or girl I am more content and feel so very much more at ease among girls and women-I feel I belong. We think alike, adore more or less the same things dresses, perfume, sewing, beauty aids and so on, though there is an age barrier. Younger girls and I seem to fall in line both in thoughts, interests and such, due to the fact that I am younger than I appear to be. Hard life on the road in both the circus and in travel, barnstorming stage troupes, plus illness and tragedy has taken its toll.

Most girls and women accept me as one of them, and we adore visiting in one another's apartments showing each other what we are making in needle work, or a new slip or dress we bought, and talk-women do like to talk, and I am no exception to the rule. We gather two or three or more in a room at times and loll in the most unladylike positions, but if that knock on the door sounds masculine, and a male voice answers to "Who is it?" legs are flying, feet to the floor, skirts pulled down, and the gentleman enters seeing a room full of the most precise ladies he could hope to see anywhere.

I have a few gentlemen friends who wish to marry me. One is a millionaire, one is a doctor, one is a lawyer, and there are several others. But the six boys I fell in love with all at once lately weren't in love with me 'Stupid Cupid. stop pickin' on me!' And the boys that are in love with me, I'm not in love with -'Stupid Cupid you're a real mean guy!'

My ambition to date, that is, is to get married and have some beautiful babies of my own. I can have them too, cause I'm made that way. Ever since I was a baby sitter and had real live babies in my arms, and cared for themwell that was Heaven on earth to me, and I've been wanting my own ever since.

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