Lo! wondrous are the workings of a man’s heart, my Daughter.
His love is a thing which riseth and falleth as the stock market; yea,
like a football that goeth up, it descendeth swiftly.
Behold, when a man first meeteth a damsel, she pleaseth his eyes.
Moreover, she is different from the girl _before_ and affordeth a
pleasant change. He adoreth her from afar and indulgeth in foolish
pipe-dreams. He investeth in new cravats and is particular concerning
his collars.
He calleth at first, timidly; he getteth on the good side of the
family. He bringeth burnt offerings of expensive flowers and sweets
from Huyler’s. He readeth the Rubáiyát unto her and inviteth her to
meet his _sister_.
And, behold, there cometh a day when he kisseth her suddenly and
without warning.
And another when he kisseth her again--easily.
And another when he kisseth her much and often.
And another when he kisseth her more casually.
And another when he departeth early, and kisseth her but once--“Good
night”.
And another when he _faileth_ to call.
Then, peradventure, she writeth him a letter--which he putteth in his
pocket and forgetteth to answer. She summoneth him over the telephone
and he goeth into the booth wearily. She reproacheth and revileth him.
He picketh a quarrel.
She sobbeth “All is over between us!” He answereth “Oh, very well! Even
as thou sayest!”
And, in time, he meeteth another damsel and doeth it _all over again_.
Yea, the selfsame programme he repeateth unto the letter; yet, he
_never_ tireth.
For lo! though a man hath eaten his fill at one meal, why shall he lack
appetite for the next?
Then, I charge thee, my Daughter, when love beginneth, question not any
man how it will end; for it is only in the _beginning_ of things that a
man is interested; even in the cream from off the jug, the bubble of
the champagne, the meat on the peach, and--the _first kiss_ of a woman.
Yet, what mattereth the end? Is not the end of the cream, skimmed milk;
and the end of a cigar, a stub; and the end of a peach, a stone; and
the end of champagne, dregs; and the end of love, a quarrel? And which
of these would ye choose?
Verily, the flirtations of a man’s bachelor days are, in passing, as
the courses of the love-feast; but a _wife_ is the black coffee which
_settleth_ him.