Young Jack goes forth to call on Rose, attired in gorgeous raiment (and
for that gaudy suit of clothes the tailor seeks his payment); his teeth
are scoured, his shoes are shined, the barber man’s been active—in
sooth, it’s hard to call to mind a fellow more attractive.
And Rose is waiting at the gate, as blithely Jack advances; she has her
angel smile on straight, and charming are her glances. She’s spent at
least a half a day (to temper’s sore abrasion) to get herself in brave
array, in shape for this occasion. All afternoon, with patient care, she
tried on heaps of dresses; her gentle mother heard her swear while
combing out her tresses. But now, as lovely as the day, with trouble
unacquainted, she looks as though she grew that way and never puffed or
painted.
And so they both, on dress parade, sit down within the arbor, she well
upholstered by her maid, he scented by his barber. They talk of
painters, Spanish, Dutch; they talk of Keats and Dante—for whom they do
not care as much as does your maiden auntie. Now Jack is down upon his
knees! By jings! he is proposing! His vows, a-floating on the breeze,
his ardor are disclosing! And Rose! Her bliss is now begun—she’s made
her little capture. Oh, chee! two hearts that beat as one, and all that
sort of rapture!
And there is none to say to Rose, “Don’t rush into a marriage! You’re
getting but a suit of clothes, some gall, a princely carriage! This man
upon whose breast you lean too often has a jag on; he couldn’t buy the
raw benzine to run your chug-chug wagon! Of tawdry thoughts he is the
fount; his heart is cold and stony. He’s ornery and no account; his
stately front is phony! He owes for all the duds he wears, for all the
grub he’s swallowed, and at his heels, on streets and stairs, the
bailiffs long have followed!”
And there is none to say to Jack, “Don’t wed that dazzling maiden! You
think that down a starry track she slid to you from Aidenn; but she is
selfishness boiled down—as mother oft discovers—and in the house she
wears a frown; she keeps her smiles for lovers. She never did a useful
thing or had a thought uplifting, and ere she gets you on her string,
look out where you are drifting!”
There’s none who dares to tell the truth or point the proper courses, so
foolish maid weds foolish youth, and then we have divorces!
[Illustration]
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