Marvellous, oh, my Daughter, is the way of a man with women; for every
man hath a _method_ and each his favorite _stunt_. And the stunt that
he hath found to work successfully with one damsel shall be practised
upon each in turn, even unto the finest details thereof.
Behold, one man shall come unto thee saying:
“How foolish are the sentimentalists! But, as for _me_, my motives are
altruistic and disinterested; and a woman’s _friendship_ is what I most
desire.” Yet, I charge thee, seek among his women “friends” and thou
shalt not find an _homely_ damsel in all their number.
For this is the _platonic_ stunt.
Now, another shall try thee by a simpler method.
Lo, suddenly and without warning, he shall arise and catch thee in his
arms. And when thou smitest him upon the cheek, he shall be overcome
with humiliation, crying:
“I could not _help_ it!”
Yet be not persuaded, but put him _down_ without mercy, lest
peradventure, he kiss thee again.
For this is the _impetuous_ stunt.
Yet observe how still another seeketh to be more subtile.
Mark how he sitteth afar off and talketh of love in the _abstract_;
how he calleth three times a week, yet remaineth always _impersonal_;
how he praiseth the shape of thine hand and admireth thy rings, yet
toucheth not so much as the _tips_ of thy fingers.
“Lo,” he thinketh in his heart, “I shall keep her guessing. Yea,
I shall wrack her soul with thoughts of how I may be brought to
subjection. And when she can no longer contain her curiosity, then will
she seek to _lure_ me, and I shall gather her in mine arms.”
And this is the _elusive_ stunt.
But, I say unto thee, my Daughter, each of these is but as a
chainstitch unto a rose pattern, beside him that playeth the _frankly
devoted_.
For all women are unto him as one woman--and that one _putty_.
Lo, the look of “adoration” in his eyes is like unto the curl in
his hair, _always_ there; and he weareth his “protecting manner” as
naturally and as constantly as his linen collar.
He is _so_ attentive and the _thoughtful thing_ cometh unto him as
second nature.
Yea, though there be twenty damsels in the room, yet shall each be made
to think in her heart:
“Lo, I am _it_!”
Verily, verily, all the days of his life he shall be waited on and
cooed over and coddled by women; and his way shall be as one continuous
path of conquests and thornless roses.
For this is the Stunt of _Stunts_!