Maidens.--Young maidens are like young turkey-hens, that thrive poorly,
if one touches them often; and mothers keep these soft creatures, made
of floating pollen, like _pastel-pictures_, under window-glass--because
everything is afraid of us princess-stealers and fruit-thieves--until
they are fixed. Meanwhile the proper crown-guard around a female heart
is neither solitude,--which leads only to an untried innocence,[229]
that falls, to be sure, not before the debauchee, but yet before the
hypocrite,--nor society, nor hard labor,--otherwise no country girl
would ever fall,--nor good teachings,--for these are to be had in every
mouth and in every circulating library; but these four first and last
things do it all at once, and they are at once superseded, united, and
replaced by a wise and virtuous mother.