The Sayings of Mrs. Solomon

CHAPTER ONE

Give ear, my Daughter, and receive my wisdom, for the husband-hunt leadeth over many hurdles and the trail of the Eligible Thing aboundeth in pitfalls.

Lo, the woods are full of men, but men are full of strange suspicions; and in elusiveness the fox is simple beside them.

I charge thee, seek not to be a fashion-plate; for a human “shriek” giveth warning and affrighteth the game. Verily a becoming frock of home manufacture is more to be desired than a French creation which maketh thee to resemble a bad dream!

Costly thy smile as thy dentist shall make it; for a pearl in the mouth exceedeth two on the finger. And it is better to be dead than unkissable.

Cheap thy gloves, if need be, but expensive thy sachet; for a man knoweth not scent from sentiment.

Few thy rings, but many thy bangles; for a musical jingle fascinateth him even as the sound of a rattle fascinateth a babe. Yea, manicured nails and perfectly clean cuffs are more to be desired in the world of business than a knowledge of stenography. Modest thy hats, yet chic withal; and thy hair glorious. For a cheap coiffure is an abomination, but a made-to-order switch is a woman’s “crown of beauty”.

Look not upon the rouge-pot when it is too red, but delicate thy blushes and thy complexion put on with a fine brush and self-restraint.

Plain thy coat, but frilly thy petticoat and of all silk; for a feminine “swish” is as poetry unto the masculine ear.

Then, I say unto thee, waste not thy substance upon style. For a man knoweth not last year’s left-over from this year’s fad, but he knoweth a “vision” when he seeth her.

Verily, a wise virgin hideth her light under a bushel of simplicity, but a foolish damsel goeth forth resembling a human snare. She painteth her cheek as with house paint, and gildeth her hair with much gold. She adorneth herself with feathers and weareth dangling ear-rings. And at sight of her men fly on wings of fear.

CHAPTER TWO

Hear now, the Prayer of a Damsel of Babylon, which she chanteth in her heart:

Angels and Ministers of Grace, oh, hear me! Bestow upon me, I pray thee:

The smile of a seraph.

The voice of a dove.

The silence of the Sphinx.

The eyes of an houri.

The blindness of a bat.

The figure of a cloak model.

The wisdom of Solomon.

The ways of a kitten.

The conscience of a cat.

The self-control of a tin soldier.

The pliability of a sofa cushion.

The capriciousness of an automobile.

The sensitiveness of a suet pudding.

The intelligence of a pet clam.

The sweetness of a cream puff.

The ambition of a potato.

The meekness of a door-mat.

The opinions of an echo.

The fascinations of a chorus girl.

The patience of Griselda.

The mystery of the Catacombs.

The faith of a poodle.

And the endurance of Atlas.

These things I ask in order that I may be all things unto one man!

CHAPTER THREE

How little, O, my Daughter, how exceeding little shall satisfy the heart of a woman!

For a man’s love is like unto an orchid, which requireth tender persuasion and constant cultivation. But a woman’s love is like unto an air plant, which flourisheth continually upon imagination.

Now, I knew a damsel of Babylon, and she was exceeding fair, having dove’s eyes, and curling locks, and much moneys, and a motor car.

Wherefore the youths of the land flocked unto her house, and her parlor was always full, and her piazza running over.

And one of these was a medal-winner, called Clod, who possessed a football figure and a Gibson profile. But the least among them all was Wisenheimer, who was abbreviated and whose hair was thin upon the top.

And Clod come unto the damsel, bringing his medals and his loving cups and divers trophies. And when he had shown them all and had told her of his deeds of prowess, he sat afar off in a corner and conversed of generalities and of himself.

For he said in his heart, “When she hath seen what great works I am destined to accomplish, then will she gladly share them with me and shine in my reflected glory.”

But Wisenheimer concentrated all his conversation upon one topic, saying:

“How marvellous are thine eyes to-night, O Star of Beauty! And thy lips have a curve like unto the smile of Mona Lisa. Thy hair is of a wonderful softness; and what is that fascinating perfume thou usest? Lo, many damsels have I known, but thou excellest them all; for thou art as Maxine Elliot and Lillian Russell and the Venus de Milo in one!”

And the damsel was interested, and she said:

“Go on!”

Then Wisenheimer cast himself before her crying: “Lo, what am I, a worm and a parasite, that I should aspire to thy love?

“Behold, I am a sinner and full of evil, yet I need the love of a noble woman to save me! I am as nothing, and have accomplished nothing, yet I yearn for the inspiration of an angel to guide me and sustain me and spur me on to higher things!”

And lo, the maiden fell upon his neck and comforted him with kisses and with promises. And the wedding was set for October.

Yet all her friends said:

“What doth she see in him!”

But I say unto thee, the maiden was wise. For verily, verily, in the comedy of matrimony there is more joy in being a star than in being an understudy!

CHAPTER FOUR

Behold, my Daughter, how Man’s taste concerning women hath changed!

For lo, it hath come to pass that a maiden of sweet and simple sixteen is, unto a matron of fair and frivolous forty, as breakfast food unto caviar and old wine.

Yea, a man no longer yearneth for a babe to cuddle; and a clinging vine fretteth him, as a shoe that squeaketh or a chair that wobbleth. Moreover, he desireth rich things. And a widow with many shekels hath a more solid attraction than a damsel with naught but beauties of the soul.

Go to! The kiss of a damsel of sixteen is more insipid than pink ice-cream, but the kiss of a woman of forty hath the flavor of experience and vera violetta.

Lo, a damsel worshippeth a man as a demi-god and discourseth unto him of her “ideals”; but a matron mothereth him and cooeth unto him in baby talk. A damsel discusseth the weather with a youth and singeth “The Rosary” unto him; but a woman of forty discusseth his talents and singeth him lullabies. A maiden babbleth on as the brook, thinking to be always amusing, but a matron knoweth that after his labors of the day a man preferreth a down pillow unto fireworks.

A maiden pouteth and chafeth beneath his “moods”, but a matron ascertained whether they proceed from indigestion or an ingrowing temperament, and healeth them accordingly with soda mints or flattery.

A maiden seeketh to appear mysterious, and romantic, but a matron playeth always the platonic friend. She is so simple.

A maiden goeth roundabout ways to hasten a proposal, but a matron seemeth to put it off. She forbiddeth him to speak of marriage, even as she forbiddeth a small boy to touch the medicine which she hath determined he shall swallow. And lo, he yearneth straightway therefor.

Verily, verily, a maiden goeth forth with the sound of bugles and an airgun, but a matron setteth her trap in unseen places and lieth low.

A maiden challengeth a man with coquettishness, but a matron putteth him to sleep! For no man goeth into matrimony with his eyes open! Verily, verily, he falleth in love as he falleth out of bed, and awakeneth with a great shock, knowing not how it hath happened.

CHAPTER FIVE

Hast thou heard the tale of the wise and foolish virgins, oh, my Daughter? Then hearken! For this parable pointeth a great moral.

Now, the foolish virgin cried unto her sisters, early in the season, “Lo! the spirit of the love-chase is upon me! I must be up and doing. For the summer resort shall be my happy hunting ground, where the game is easy and plentiful.”

And she went her ways rejoicing, armed with three trunks and a pink parasol and girded about with lingerie frocks and a silk bathing suit.

Yet, when she had arrived upon the scene, behold there was naught within sight! Lo, each morning she wandered upon the beach with one callow college-youth and each evening danced gladly with a flirtatious octogenarian. All the damsels of the hotel, they waltzed in pairs and pretended to like it!

But the wise virgin sighed, “Alas! I cannot afford to go upon a vacation trip. Nay I must stay in town! For I shall be busy.”

And she was busy!

For, when all the other women had departed, the men of the town, being much bored and having naught else to do, flocked unto her door and made themselves comfortable upon her piazza.

Yea, in twos and threes came they, the simple youth with his mandolin and the wise youth with his Rubáiyát, the married man in his loneliness, and the bachelor whose sweetheart was abroad.

And she fed them iced drinks and flattery, and they absorbed all of it gladly – and were consoled!

And lo, before the summer had waned she wore six engagement rings; for the harvest was plentiful.

Verily, verily, a summer resort is a place wherein a woman will resort to anything, from a babe unto a grandfather, for amusement; but a womanless town is a ripe field.

CHAPTER SIX

Oh, ye damsels of Babylon! Ye followers after fads and wearers of pearl earrings! How long will ye seek to appear sophisticated? How long will ye continue to pose as cynics, and think it chic to be satirical and piquant to be capricious?

Know ye not, oh foolish ones, that a man dreadeth a female cynic as a small boy dreadeth an education? Yea, and a satirical damsel is unto him as a caterpillar upon the neck, which maketh him to shudder. But a capricious woman is as gravel in the shoes. She giveth him great pain.

Behold, a foolish damsel seeketh always to scintillate. She appeareth clothed in worldly wisdom and bristling with opinions. She provoketh arguments and answereth with repartee. She mocketh at a man’s sentiments and rebuketh him with epigrams. She maketh him to look foolish.

But a wise damsel is sweeter than distilled honey and more simple than the plot of a Robert Chambers novel. She lighteth her own way with the sun of her smiles, and smootheth all her paths with soft soap. She seeketh not her own glorification but poureth oil upon the vanity of the just and unjust alike.

Doth a youth argue with her, she is easily convinced and covereth him with approbation, saying: “How didst thou ever think of that?”

And, lo, his argument is broken against him.

Doth her Beloved call at eve, bringing with him the grouch “that knoweth no brother”, she greeteth him with the smile that knoweth no sister.

She ministereth unto him with cooling drinks and looks of sympathy.

She bringeth him the ash-tray and the shaded lamp and the foot-stool and the newspapers.

She urgeth him to smoke.

She forbeareth to talk.

And behold his mood dissolveth as the mist before the sun, and he exclaimeth in his heart: “Good Heavens! What would life be without this woman!”

He proposeth.

And all the days of her life she treadeth upon velvet.

Verily, verily, a wise woman preferreth peace of mind unto her own opinions, comfort unto her dignity, and an husband unto a reputation for brilliancy. She saith in her heart:

“I am not here to reform him, but to please him.”

And, lo, all the world is her roller coaster! For the price of peace is a perpetual smile!

CHAPTER ONE

Go to, my Daughter. Knowest thou a man who hath lived long in a bachelor flat? Then beware of him! For his ways are full of guile and he hath not a thrill left.

Alas, the bachelor flat is a curse sent upon Woman. For, lo, though a man hath dwelt in the back hall-room of a boarding-house for many years and hath suffered all its untold horrors, the moment he taketh a flat the sweet feminine thing seeketh him out and yearneth to make him “comfortable”.

And his days are made sad with sofa pillows and towel racks, and picture frames, and shaving-pads, and foot-stools, until his house resembleth a bargain counter, or the spoils from the harem of a sacked city.

He groaneth when he seeketh in corners for a spot wherein to place his forty-seventh cushion; he curseth when he returneth after dark and falleth over tabourets and other evidences of the pursuit of man; he laugheth as he borroweth old socks from his men friends that he may supply all of those who desire to do his mending. And to him, in matters of love, there is nothing new under the sun.

For the man that weddeth a widow is number two, but the woman that weddeth a bachelor-flatee is number forty-two.

And when she mendeth his coat and patteth his pillow; when she kisseth him in the cleft within his chin and runneth her fingers through his hair, he feeleth no thrill. For these are unto him but as a tale that hath been many times told.

Verily, his sentiments are frayed at the edges and his emotions worn thin with usage. His heart is patched in many places and his illusions are as last year’s roses – withered.

Yea, his love is but as warmed-over pudding or cold veal served upon the second day; even as second-hand furniture, whereof the interior is motheaten.

But he is better than nothing.

CHAPTER TWO

Verily, verily, my Daughter, the fool hath said in her heart, “All men should marry! For there is a reason for everything under the sun, save a bachelor.”

But I have gone among the bachelors, questioning them, young and old; and I say unto thee, the “reasons” why a man taketh a stimulant are not more numerous and wonderful than the reasons why he doth not marry.

Behold, he doth not marry:

Because he is too young.

Because he is too old.

Because he hath not thought about it.

Because he hath thought too much about it.

Because he is poor and cannot afford a wife.

Because he is rich and doth not require a wife.

Because he loveth no woman.

Because he loveth all women.

Because he hath not met the right woman.

Because he hath met the right woman and been “disappointed”.

Because he hath many illusions concerning women.

Because he hath no illusions concerning them.

Because no woman is good enough.

Because he is not “good enough” for any woman.

Because he is not ready to settle down.

Because he is already settled down, and is content.

Because he is weak and fearful.

Because he is strong and impregnable.

And, likewise – just because.

CHAPTER THREE

Hearken, my Daughter, unto the parable of the merrie bachelor; hearken and be comforted.

For, I say unto thee, not one of these liveth but shall receive his just desert!

Now, in my youth, there came unto me such an one, saying, “Why shall I marry? For lo, have I not all the comforts of home, at half the expense? Behold, I have three good meals a day and a den filled with gew-gaws, which are the work of many damsels. Yea, and not one of them but yearneth to sew on my buttons.

“Moreover, I can go forth into the country in the summer time without having to pawn mine overcoat; and in the winter I can go unto my club without having to perjure my soul.

“Verily, verily, my life is like unto an eleven-course dinner.

“For on Monday I may talk art unto a high-browed damsel; and on Tuesday I may talk love unto a widow; and on Wednesday I may talk nonsense unto a fluffy thing.

“But a married man must talk domestic economy unto the same woman every night, which is like a table d’hote menu, of a deadening monotony.

“Behold, I offer no apology for my singleness; for I am unashamed! And my one fear is that I shall awaken from this dream!”

And I answered him, saying, “Even so!”

Yet, as time passed, the hairs dropped one by one from the head of the bachelor, until it shone as a great light.

Lo, from eating and drinking much good food and having no worries, he became round and pudgy, like unto a Billiken.

And the maidens of the land who had trembled at his approach now tittered merrily at sight of him. Yea, whereas, before, he had been able to spend an whole evening with one of them, bringing a box of cheap candy, he now spent all his savings upon them.

For it requireth real orchids and champagne to make a fat man fascinating.

And he observed the married men of his acquaintance, that from overworking they had still kept their figures and were interesting. Yea, and they flirted with their stenographers and were merry; but the bachelor not having to labor had accomplished nothing; for he had spent his days in yawning.

Then he came unto me, crying:

“Lo! At last I would marry and settle down. But she that I once loved hath married another. And how shall I choose a wife? For all women are as one woman unto me.”

And I mocked him with my ha-has, saying:

“My Son, I adjure thee, wed any woman thou canst! For the buds of the Nation are not collecting antiques. Yet, peradventure, one of these shall accept thee as a good thing; or another shall take thee as a last resort, when she hath passed her fifth season. Go to! Thou hast eaten the bread of life without honey thereon, and thou shalt hereafter be satisfied with the crumbs.”

Verily, verily, life without love is as a pipe without a light; but a man without a wife is as a helpless barge without a tow-boat.

CHAPTER FOUR

My Daughter, hear now the Thanksgiving Day prayer of a bachelor:

Oh, Lord, I thank Thee that Thou hast vouchsafed me another year of freedom. That I am still safe!

That Thou hast made me what I am– wise, unconquerable, immune!

That, although I have many times lost my heart, I have never yet lost my head.

That I did not marry my first love.

That, though the hairs of my head be numbered, they are still sufficient to cover my bald spot.

That, though my forehead gradually becometh more intellectual, it is not yet bare.

That I have never yet written a letter which could be held against me in a breach-of-promise suit, but have confined all my tender messages unto telegrams and postcards.

That all my words have been discreet and mine actions cautious and self-restrained.

That, although maidens may bestow upon me purple neckties, spotted scarfs, plaid mufflers and orange-colored gloves at Christmastide, I shall not be required to wear them.

That I am still regarded as eligible among maidens and matrons. That they have not found me out!

That, day by day, my heart is acquiring a coat of cement and my conscience a coat of mail.

That I have carefully preserved all my emotions in alcohol!

That there is no marrying nor giving in marriage in Heaven!

Yea, for good cigars, bachelor flats, vaudeville, briar pipes, clubs, apartment hotels, stenographers, comic operas, taxicabs and widows, Good Lord I thank Thee!

And now in the name of peace and contentment, vouchsafe me another year of single blessedness.

Yea, give me liberty or give me death! Amen!

CHAPTER ONE

Behold, my Daughter, I have parted from mine Appendix and my conscience is clear! Therefore do I fear but three things in all the world:

And the first of these is a mouse.

And the second is embonpoint.

But the third is a Trained Nurse!

For I have watched her at her work.

And, I charge thee, in the flutter of her apron there lurketh more danger than in the whole chorus of a comic opera. For a chorus girl practiseth her wiles upon strong men, but she seeketh him only that is stricken and at her mercy.

Yea, when he is down-and-out she getteth in her fine work.

Upon her head she weareth a cute cap, which glorifieth her as a halo in his sight. She walketh upon heels of velvet and cooeth unto him in a voice of silver.

Her smile runneth over and will not come off.

She hath dove’s eyes.

She batheth his brow with spikenard and myrrh, and anointeth him with alcohol. She arrangeth his pillows and comforteth his soul with words of cheer. She taketh his pulse!

He yearneth to be babied – and she babyeth him.

He pineth for sympathy – and she sympathizeth.

He seeketh comfort – and she maketh him comfortable.

And what chance hath a damsel at a pink tea beside a ministering angel such as one of these?

Go to, thou Simple One! What strength is there in a sick man that he shall flee before all the temptations of St. Anthony, in one?

Nay, though he be of stone and of adamant, though his heart be encased in barbed wire, yet shall he turn upon his pillow sighing:

“Alas Miriam is all right; but a wife was never like this!”

Yet how guileless is human nature! For, ye will keep your silver in a strong box and your jewels behind bars of iron; yet will ye trust your beloved in the hands of one of these.

Verily, verily, the Lorelei is passeé and witches are no more.

But a Little Trained Nurse is a dangerous thing!

CHAPTER TWO

Verily, my Daughter, there be these three: the maid, the matron, and the widow; and the luckiest of these is the widow.

For she hath graduated from the School of Experience and her crêpe veil glorifieth her as a diploma.

And, though she may live in a bachelor flat, none shall gossip about her; but whatsoever she doeth shall seem “cute” in the eyes of men.

When she talketh wittily they shall not say, “She knoweth too much”; and when she talketh foolishly they shall declare that she but seeketh to appear simple. If she smoketh a cigarette, she will make excuse, saying, “Mine husband taught me how to do this thing”, and all men shall call her “fascinating”.

Yea, she possesseth all the glory of matrimony, even unto “Mrs.” on her name, and none of the discomforts. She shall marry a second time if she so desireth; and if she doth not, who shall say that she could not?

For one man hath set his seal of approval upon her, and where one hath led the rest shall follow like unto a flock of Geese. Yea, in the matter of women, man hath great faith in the judgment of his brother, but he doubteth his own taste.