Hearken, my Daughter, and give ear unto my wisdom, that thou mayest
understand _man_--his goings and his comings, his stayings out and his
return in the morning, his words of honey and his ways of guile.
Beloved, question me not, whence I have learned of man, his secrets.
Have I not known _one_ man well? And verily, a woman need know but one
man, in order to understand _all_ men; whereas a man may know all women
and understand not one of them.
For men are of but one pattern, whereof thou needest but to discover
the secret combination; but women are as the _Yale lock_--no two of
them are alike.
Lo! What a paradox is man--even a puzzle which worketh backward!
He mistaketh a sweet scent for a sweet disposition, and a subtile
sachet for a subtile mind.
He voweth, “I admire a discreet woman!”--and inviteth the froward
blonde of the chorus to supper.
He muttereth unto his wife, “Lo! I will go unto the corner for a
cigar”--and behold, he wandereth unto many corners and returneth by a
circular route.
He kisseth the woman whom he loveth _not_, and avoideth her whom he
loveth, lest his heart become entangled. Yea, he seeketh always the
wrong woman that he may forget his heart’s desire.
Yet, whichever he weddeth, he regretteth it all the days of his life.