The following truthful and touching history of an old maid, dating from
about 1843, is one of the briefest, yet at the same time most complete,
records of human experience in print. Those who can read between the lines
will have full sympathy for the author of it, who seems to have found that
though marriage may prove a failure, abstention from matrimony does not
bring happiness:
At fifteen years, anxious for coming out.
Sixteen, began to have some idea of the tender passion.
Seventeen, talked of love in a cottage, and _disinterested
affection_.
Eighteen, fancied myself in love with some handsome man who
flattered me.
Nineteen, was a little more difficult, in consequence of
being noticed.
Twenty, commenced to be fashionable and dashing.
Twenty-one, still more confidence in my own attractions, and
expected a brilliant establishment.
Twenty-two, refused a good offer because he was not a man of
fashion.
Twenty-three, flirted with every young man I met.
Twenty-four, wondered why not married.
Twenty-five, rather more circumspect in conduct.
Twenty-six, began to think a large fortune not quite so
indispensable.
Twenty-seven, preferred the company of rational men.
Twenty-eight, wished to be married in a quiet way, with a
comfortable home and children.
Twenty-nine, almost despaired of entering the marriage
state.
Thirty, was rather fearful of being called an old maid.
Thirty-one, an additional love of self-adornment.
Thirty-two, professed to dislike balls, finding it quite
difficult to secure good partners.
Thirty-three, wondered how men could leave the society of
sensible women to flirt with chits.
Thirty-four, affected good humor in conversation with men.
Thirty-five, jealous of the praises of women.
Thirty-six, quarreled with friend who had been lately
married.
Thirty-seven, thought myself slighted in company.
Thirty-eight, liked talking of my acquaintances who are
married unfortunately, and found endless consolation in
their misfortunes.
Thirty-nine, ill-nature increased.
Forty, became a confirmed scold.
And so on up to fifty, when the lady seized upon lap-dogs,
and talked largely of philanthropy. After that age, gray
hairs start out upon the temple, and "old lady" becomes the
tune--no longer old maid.