IN school, academy and college stands forth the modern cultured girl,
her lovely head so stuffed with knowledge it fairly makes her tresses
curl. We all lean back in admiration when she stands up to make her
speech, the finest product of the nation, the one serene, unblemished
peach. Behold her in her snowy garments, the pride, the honor of her
class! A malediction on the varmints who say her learning cuts no grass!
“She hasn’t learned to fry the mutton, she’s not equipped to be a wife;
she couldn’t fasten on a button, to save her sweet angelic life! With
all her mighty fund of learning, she’s ignorant of useful chores; she
cannot keep an oil stove burning so it won’t smoke us out of doors. The
man she weds will know disaster, his dreams of home and love will spoil;
she cannot make a mustard plaster, or put a poultice on a boil.” Avaunt,
ye croakers, skip and caper, or we’ll upset your apple-carts! The damsel
rises with her paper on “Old Greek Gods and Modern Arts.” So pledge her
in a grapejuice flagon! Who cares if she can sew or bake? She’s pretty
as a new red wagon, and sweeter than an old plum cake.
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