My Daughter, hear now the Thanksgiving Day prayer of a bachelor:
Oh, Lord, I thank Thee that Thou hast vouchsafed me another year of
_freedom_. That I am still safe!
That Thou hast made me what I _am_--wise, unconquerable, immune!
That, although I have many times lost my heart, I have never yet lost
my _head_.
That I did not marry my first love.
That, though the hairs of my head be numbered, they are still
sufficient to cover my bald spot.
That, though my forehead gradually becometh more _intellectual_, it is
not yet bare.
That I have never yet written a letter which could be held against me
in a breach-of-promise suit, but have confined all my _tender_ messages
unto telegrams and postcards.
That all my words have been discreet and mine actions cautious and
self-restrained.
That, although maidens may bestow upon me purple neckties, spotted
scarfs, plaid mufflers and orange-colored gloves at Christmastide, I
shall not be required to _wear_ them.
That I am still regarded as _eligible_ among maidens and matrons. That
they have not _found me out_!
That, day by day, my heart is acquiring a coat of cement and my
conscience a coat of mail.
That I have carefully preserved all my emotions in alcohol!
That there is no marrying nor giving in marriage in Heaven!
Yea, for good cigars, bachelor flats, vaudeville, briar pipes, clubs,
apartment hotels, stenographers, comic operas, taxicabs and _widows_,
Good Lord I thank Thee!
And now in the name of peace and contentment, vouchsafe me another year
of single blessedness.
Yea, give me liberty or give me death! Amen!