Heed my instructions, oh my Son, that thou mayest understand the Seven
Poses of Woman!
For, whether she dwelleth in the high places or in the low places, her
nets are cast into the sea, and her hooks are bated with perfume and
chafing-dishes and domesticity.
Yea, though she hideth in a studio apartment and cryeth “I shall never
marry!”, yet doth she seek to lure thee with joss sticks and pink tea
and rarebits and the _artistic temperament_.
Likewise, beware when she patteth thy coat lapel; when she slippeth
her hand confidingly into thine overcoat pocket be not persuaded. For
the touch of a damsel’s fingers is alluring, but a _wife’s_ “touch” is
expensive.
Lo, when she mothereth thee; when she runneth her fingers through thy
top hair; when she inquireth concerning thy health and urgeth thee to
wear rubbers, be prepared to escape her; for, so doth she shear the
lamb for the slaughter.
When her shoe cometh untied, when her side-comb falleth out, when her
hair tumbleth down, in the game of tennis, turn away thine eyes, lest
thou be undone. For, Circe was as naught, beside a woman with flowing
hair.
When she “turneth” her ankle upon the golf links, I charge thee do not
bear her in thine arms to safety; but, for thy soul’s sake, flee in
search of a doctor, ’ere she turneth thine head also.
When she putteth perfume upon thy locks, oh beware of her! For she
doeth this that she may mark thee for _her own_; and, until it be
washed away, thou shalt be covered with shame in the eyes of the world.
But, when she coaxeth thee to be adorned, when she seeketh to _manicure
thy nails_; when she patteth thy fingers and yearneth to bathe them
with sweet ointments; when she weareth a cute apron and sitteth more
near, I charge thee, clasp thine hands behind thee, crying:
“Nay! Thou mayest _hold_ them, but thou shalt _not manicure_ them!”
For by this strategy fell the Benedicts.
Go to, my Son! Ask me not how I have learned of Woman, concerning all
her _poses_.
For lo, I am a _woman_, and I have _tried_ them.