Kitabı oku: «The Sayings of Mrs. Solomon», sayfa 4

CHAPTER FOUR

Behold, my Daughter, how Man’s taste concerning women hath changed!

For lo, it hath come to pass that a maiden of sweet and simple sixteen is, unto a matron of fair and frivolous forty, as breakfast food unto caviar and old wine.

Yea, a man no longer yearneth for a babe to cuddle; and a clinging vine fretteth him, as a shoe that squeaketh or a chair that wobbleth. Moreover, he desireth rich things. And a widow with many shekels hath a more solid attraction than a damsel with naught but beauties of the soul.

Go to! The kiss of a damsel of sixteen is more insipid than pink ice-cream, but the kiss of a woman of forty hath the flavor of experience and vera violetta.

Lo, a damsel worshippeth a man as a demi-god and discourseth unto him of her “ideals”; but a matron mothereth him and cooeth unto him in baby talk. A damsel discusseth the weather with a youth and singeth “The Rosary” unto him; but a woman of forty discusseth his talents and singeth him lullabies. A maiden babbleth on as the brook, thinking to be always amusing, but a matron knoweth that after his labors of the day a man preferreth a down pillow unto fireworks.

A maiden pouteth and chafeth beneath his “moods”, but a matron ascertained whether they proceed from indigestion or an ingrowing temperament, and healeth them accordingly with soda mints or flattery.

A maiden seeketh to appear mysterious, and romantic, but a matron playeth always the platonic friend. She is so simple.

A maiden goeth roundabout ways to hasten a proposal, but a matron seemeth to put it off. She forbiddeth him to speak of marriage, even as she forbiddeth a small boy to touch the medicine which she hath determined he shall swallow. And lo, he yearneth straightway therefor.

Verily, verily, a maiden goeth forth with the sound of bugles and an airgun, but a matron setteth her trap in unseen places and lieth low.

A maiden challengeth a man with coquettishness, but a matron putteth him to sleep! For no man goeth into matrimony with his eyes open! Verily, verily, he falleth in love as he falleth out of bed, and awakeneth with a great shock, knowing not how it hath happened.

CHAPTER FIVE

Hast thou heard the tale of the wise and foolish virgins, oh, my Daughter? Then hearken! For this parable pointeth a great moral.

Now, the foolish virgin cried unto her sisters, early in the season, “Lo! the spirit of the love-chase is upon me! I must be up and doing. For the summer resort shall be my happy hunting ground, where the game is easy and plentiful.”

And she went her ways rejoicing, armed with three trunks and a pink parasol and girded about with lingerie frocks and a silk bathing suit.

Yet, when she had arrived upon the scene, behold there was naught within sight! Lo, each morning she wandered upon the beach with one callow college-youth and each evening danced gladly with a flirtatious octogenarian. All the damsels of the hotel, they waltzed in pairs and pretended to like it!

But the wise virgin sighed, “Alas! I cannot afford to go upon a vacation trip. Nay I must stay in town! For I shall be busy.”

And she was busy!

For, when all the other women had departed, the men of the town, being much bored and having naught else to do, flocked unto her door and made themselves comfortable upon her piazza.

Yea, in twos and threes came they, the simple youth with his mandolin and the wise youth with his Rubáiyát, the married man in his loneliness, and the bachelor whose sweetheart was abroad.

And she fed them iced drinks and flattery, and they absorbed all of it gladly – and were consoled!

And lo, before the summer had waned she wore six engagement rings; for the harvest was plentiful.

Verily, verily, a summer resort is a place wherein a woman will resort to anything, from a babe unto a grandfather, for amusement; but a womanless town is a ripe field.

CHAPTER SIX

Oh, ye damsels of Babylon! Ye followers after fads and wearers of pearl earrings! How long will ye seek to appear sophisticated? How long will ye continue to pose as cynics, and think it chic to be satirical and piquant to be capricious?

Know ye not, oh foolish ones, that a man dreadeth a female cynic as a small boy dreadeth an education? Yea, and a satirical damsel is unto him as a caterpillar upon the neck, which maketh him to shudder. But a capricious woman is as gravel in the shoes. She giveth him great pain.

Behold, a foolish damsel seeketh always to scintillate. She appeareth clothed in worldly wisdom and bristling with opinions. She provoketh arguments and answereth with repartee. She mocketh at a man’s sentiments and rebuketh him with epigrams. She maketh him to look foolish.

But a wise damsel is sweeter than distilled honey and more simple than the plot of a Robert Chambers novel. She lighteth her own way with the sun of her smiles, and smootheth all her paths with soft soap. She seeketh not her own glorification but poureth oil upon the vanity of the just and unjust alike.

Doth a youth argue with her, she is easily convinced and covereth him with approbation, saying: “How didst thou ever think of that?”

And, lo, his argument is broken against him.

Doth her Beloved call at eve, bringing with him the grouch “that knoweth no brother”, she greeteth him with the smile that knoweth no sister.

She ministereth unto him with cooling drinks and looks of sympathy.

She bringeth him the ash-tray and the shaded lamp and the foot-stool and the newspapers.

She urgeth him to smoke.

She forbeareth to talk.

And behold his mood dissolveth as the mist before the sun, and he exclaimeth in his heart: “Good Heavens! What would life be without this woman!”

He proposeth.

And all the days of her life she treadeth upon velvet.

Verily, verily, a wise woman preferreth peace of mind unto her own opinions, comfort unto her dignity, and an husband unto a reputation for brilliancy. She saith in her heart:

“I am not here to reform him, but to please him.”

And, lo, all the world is her roller coaster! For the price of peace is a perpetual smile!

SELAH

BOOK OF BACHELORS

CHAPTER ONE

Go to, my Daughter. Knowest thou a man who hath lived long in a bachelor flat? Then beware of him! For his ways are full of guile and he hath not a thrill left.

Alas, the bachelor flat is a curse sent upon Woman. For, lo, though a man hath dwelt in the back hall-room of a boarding-house for many years and hath suffered all its untold horrors, the moment he taketh a flat the sweet feminine thing seeketh him out and yearneth to make him “comfortable”.

And his days are made sad with sofa pillows and towel racks, and picture frames, and shaving-pads, and foot-stools, until his house resembleth a bargain counter, or the spoils from the harem of a sacked city.

He groaneth when he seeketh in corners for a spot wherein to place his forty-seventh cushion; he curseth when he returneth after dark and falleth over tabourets and other evidences of the pursuit of man; he laugheth as he borroweth old socks from his men friends that he may supply all of those who desire to do his mending. And to him, in matters of love, there is nothing new under the sun.

For the man that weddeth a widow is number two, but the woman that weddeth a bachelor-flatee is number forty-two.

And when she mendeth his coat and patteth his pillow; when she kisseth him in the cleft within his chin and runneth her fingers through his hair, he feeleth no thrill. For these are unto him but as a tale that hath been many times told.

Verily, his sentiments are frayed at the edges and his emotions worn thin with usage. His heart is patched in many places and his illusions are as last year’s roses – withered.

Yea, his love is but as warmed-over pudding or cold veal served upon the second day; even as second-hand furniture, whereof the interior is motheaten.

But he is better than nothing.

CHAPTER TWO

Verily, verily, my Daughter, the fool hath said in her heart, “All men should marry! For there is a reason for everything under the sun, save a bachelor.”

But I have gone among the bachelors, questioning them, young and old; and I say unto thee, the “reasons” why a man taketh a stimulant are not more numerous and wonderful than the reasons why he doth not marry.

Behold, he doth not marry:

Because he is too young.

Because he is too old.

Because he hath not thought about it.

Because he hath thought too much about it.

Because he is poor and cannot afford a wife.

Because he is rich and doth not require a wife.

Because he loveth no woman.

Because he loveth all women.

Because he hath not met the right woman.

Because he hath met the right woman and been “disappointed”.

Because he hath many illusions concerning women.

Because he hath no illusions concerning them.

Because no woman is good enough.

Because he is not “good enough” for any woman.

Because he is not ready to settle down.

Because he is already settled down, and is content.

Because he is weak and fearful.

Because he is strong and impregnable.

And, likewise – just because.