The Sayings of Mrs. Solomon

CHAPTER ONE

My Daughter, Hearken Unto My Words, And attend diligently to my counsel; for the understanding of Man is the beginning of a good income, and a knowledge of his ways more profitable than a higher education.

Behold, a woman delighteth to travel the path of love slowly and through devious by-ways of flirtation and sentiment, but a man rusheth over it at the speed limit.

Unto a woman, the first kiss is but the start in the love chase, but unto a man it is ofttimes the finish.

Lo, when a woman weddeth a man, it is in order that she may get him; but when a man weddeth a woman, it is in order that he may prevent another from getting her.

Yea, verily, when a woman clingeth unto single blessedness, it is because she hath met no man with whom she could endure to live; but, when a man remaineth a bachelor, it is because he hath met no woman without whom he cannot live.

A man weddeth a woman in order to escape loneliness, and immediately thereafter joineth a club in order to escape the woman.

He marryeth a damsel because she appealeth to his “higher nature”, and spendeth all the rest of his days seeking after those who appeal to his lower nature.

A woman is cast down with doubts lest a man doth not love her; but a man never troubleth his soul, as to whether or not a woman loveth him, but as to whether or not he wanteth her to love him.

Behold, an honest woman may cheat at cards, but never at love; but he considereth himself an “honorable man” that never cheateth at a game of poker though he never playeth fair at the game of hearts.

Go to! Think no man in love while he flattereth thee and extolleth all thy ways; but, when he beginneth to moralise and to criticise thy hats, then mayest thou plan thy trousseau.

When he saveth thy life it may be for chivalry’s sake; but when he carryeth an umbrella to please thee it is for love’s sake.

Be not set up when a man giveth thee the key to his heart, for, peradventure, upon the following day, he may change the lock!

Then, how shall a woman understand a man, since they are all cut upon the bias!

Verily, verily, by turning him around, my Daughter, and reading him backward, even as a Chinese laundry ticket!

CHAPTER TWO

How long, oh, ye Easy Ones, shall men continue to call ye “kitten” when they are sentimental and “cat” when they wax cynical?

Verily, verily, I say unto thee, the ways of a man are the ways of Grimalkin; for doth not a cat, and likewise a man, prize his dignity above all things else in the heavens above, or in the earth beneath, or in the subways under the earth?

Moreover, doth not a cat, and likewise a man, seek out all the soft places upon the face of the earth, and all the most comfortable spots within the house, and all the easy chairs of the office?

Yea, doth not a man, even as a cat, wander abroad at night and return only at mealtimes?

Doth not a cat, and also a man, cling unto the woman that maketh him most comfortable and stroketh him the right way, but revile and despise her that disturbeth his meditations and arouseth him from his slumbers?

Doth not a cat flee in terror from one that flingeth cold water upon his coat, and a man from her that flingeth cold water upon his vanity?

Doth not a man, like unto a cat, struggle to escape when he is held tightly, yet remain cheerfully where he is not wanted?

Doth not a cat, and likewise a man, flee fearfully from that which is flung at his head – whether it be a bone, or a plate, or a woman?

And, being “dropped,” doth not a cat and likewise a man, land always upon his feet and depart in search of consolation?

Lo, if thou pursuest a cat and a man with thine endearments will they not shrink from thee, with vexation?

But, if thou ignorest them, will they not sit devotedly at thy feet?

Go to! I say unto thee a woman is not as a tabby, but as a Faithful Fido which cannot be shaken off.

She followeth a man whithersoever he goeth, accepting gladly a pat upon the head and a kind word, and lying down at his feet to be stepped on.

Verily, verily, why doth a spinster console herself with a cat in her loneliness?

Even because this is the only thing which can be found to resemble a man!

CHAPTER THREE

Lo, while a man courteth a maiden he faith unto her:

“Beloved, I adore the waves and frivols of thy hair! The neatness of thy waistline is my delight; and what is that subtile sachet which maketh thee to remind me always of the rose of morning?”

But in his heart he saith:

“Yet, when we are married, then shall I teach her not to wear false ringlets, and the imported complexion which she now putteth on shall she abjure.

“Verily from the using of that awful scent shall I break her, and from the wearing of corsets shall I rescue her! For we shall then be one, and I shall be that one!”

And while a damsel seeketh to allure a man she saith unto him:

“Thou art so sensible. Yea, I pray thee, continue to wear a comfortable collar always; for why shalt thou suffer for style’s sake? Lo, thy beard and thy mustache, they are so characteristic; and in a soft hat thou hast real personality!”

But in her heart she muttereth:

“Go to! When I have him safe, then shall I entice him to put on a high collar, even unto four inches; and the shaving of his face will require but two weeks! Yea, and that quaint top-piece shall he exchange for a derby within the first month. For I know just what he needeth!”

Verily, verily, even in the hour of their courtship, do they prepare for war!

Even while she poureth his wine, doth she determine that he shall become a teetotaler! Even while he passeth her the sweetmeats doth he plan to put her on a diet, ’ere she acquire embonpoint.

As enemies before the battle, do they exchange civilities, saying “How congenial we are!”

For every woman thinketh to make a man over after a pattern, and every man thinketh to remodel a woman according to a stock ideal.

Yea, after the honeymoon each seeketh to trim the other down and to add all the modern improvements.

Then give them the fruit of their labors, which is a mutual shock!

CHAPTER FOUR

My Daughter, she that heedeth my instructions shall find a man easier to play upon than a pianola.

Behold, she hath but to press the right key, and he shall repeat all his repertoire, even unto the confession of his sins.

Yea, verily, a man rejoiceth in confessions; and nothing delighteth his soul so much as to repent. For, then can he return unto his follies with a clear conscience and renewed enthusiasm.

Go to! Who is so virtuous as an husband that hath but just received a cold bath and his wife’s forgiveness?

Lo, he goeth forth feeling like unto an uncrowned saint.

He is puffed up with righteousness.

Yet, before the night cometh, peradventure, he shall again have wobbled from the straight and narrow way.

How long, then, oh my Daughter, shalt thou encourage men to persecute thee with their “I’m so-sorrys”, and their “Never-agains”? For, verily, verily, every man believeth that a woman’s patience is a thing of India rubber, which will stretch over a multitude of backslidings.

Yea, he hath not a doubt that a broken promise may be glued together with kisses, and a broken heart mended with softsoap.

Confessions are but the soothing syrup wherewith he stilleth his conscience. And his sins would lack much joy if he had not the pleasure of “regretting” them.

But I say unto thee, a woman’s faith is like unto a cobweb which cannot be patched up, once it hath been shattered; and a woman’s heart is not as a rubber ball, which reboundeth after it hath been cast down.

Nay, a bride sobbeth “Harold, tell me all!”

But after ten years, a wife saith, “Do whatsoever thou pleasest, but come not unto me with thy tale of woe. Lo, I am aweary of holding onto Heaven with one hand and onto thee with the other. Therefore go thy ways and let me sleep!”

Verily, verily, in time, doth a man’s penitence pall upon a woman; and his kiss of remorse is more to be dreaded than his sins.

For, once love hath cooled, it may be warmed-over, yet it is flat and tasteless, even as a Monday luncheon.

CHAPTER FIVE

My Daughter, observe my counsel, for the heart of a man is like unto a Broadway car, in which there is always room for one more.

Behold, in matters of love, a woman is a specialist, but a man is a general practitioner. Yea, a woman loveth but one type– even one man– but a man loveth anything which happeneth to be at hand.

Lo, he that weddeth a brunette shall ever after seek peroxide blondes; and he that marryeth a pink and yellow doll shall acquire a sudden interest in intellect and brunettes. For variety is the spice of love.

Moreover, a woman is an epicure in love, but a man is a gourmand.

In the love-feast, a woman desireth but one course at a time; but a man relisheth them all served at once, like unto a dinner at a country inn.

Yea, he mixeth his flirtations, even as he mixeth his libations, and wondereth sadly why he awakeneth always with an headache.

Verily, verily, even thy Father, Solomon, had not more than enough wives. For every man requireth at least two soul-mates.

One for Sundays – and one for week days.

One to amuse him – and one to wait upon him.

One to save his soul – and one to save his pennies.

One to help him make a fortune – and one to help him spend it.

One for his lighter side – and one for his darker side.

One for company, one for comfort, one for inspiration, one for pastime – and many others, for a change.

CHAPTER ONE

The Song of a Wife, which is Mrs. Solomon’s.

Let him praise me with the words of his mouth; for his flattery is sweeter than wine and his kisses are rarer than orchids.

Lo, my Beloved, thy hair is as stubble, and in the morning it standeth aloft, as a shorn wheat field.

Thy cheek is as a Turkish towel, which caresseth mine.

Thy temples are a shining light, which resembleth a silver polish advertisement.

Thou wearest a derby hat. Thy breath is sweet with cloves.

How fascinating art thou in pajamas, when thy face is covered with shaving lather!

How beautiful are thy feet.

Behold, thou art a collection of habits. Yea, unto these thou art more constant than the family cat.

Whatsoever thou hast done before, that shalt thou do forever and in the same way.

Thou kissest me once in the morning, once in the evening, and twice upon Christmas Day.

Thou clingest unto thine old pipe as unto thy reputation. Thou callest every woman by the same pet name.

Lo, what would my Beloved be without his habits? Even as a doggie’s tail which hath lost its “wag”! But thy heart, oh, my Beloved, is full of lightning changes. Its capacity is inexhaustible.

The memory of yesterday’s kiss is unto thee as the memory of yesterday’s dinner – sweet, but not satisfying.

Yet, though thy heart changeth many times, I, thy wife, am become one of thy habits!

Behold thou hast placed “Mrs.” upon my name; thou hast glorified me with a wedding ring!

Therefore, I am become thy doormat. Yea, I am as thy footstool.

I shall mend thy socks with rejoicing, and the replacing of thy buttons shall be my delight.

All the days of thy life, shall I clean thy safety razor and put the studs in thy shirts.

Then, cast thine ashes over my dressing table and strew my carpets with cigar stumps.

Let the awnings of mine house be burned and my lace curtains consumed with fire. I shall not murmur.

For I am my Beloved’s and there is naught else like unto him.

CHAPTER TWO

The Song of Songs, which is the widow’s.

When I was a rib, I spoke as a rib, and all my ways were the ways of a rib.

Lo, I took man seriously, even as he took himself. For him did I rush the breakfast – and keep it waiting.

Unto him did I offer up the palm – and the morning paper. All his opinions were right in mine eyes; and because he said a thing, it was so.

He was the Lord of my Heart, and the Source of mine Income. And in him I saw nothing funny; for my sense of humor had not yet been awakened.

He looked at my hats and mocked them. Yet that inverted salad bowl which he called a “derby” did not arouse my mirth. He waxed satirical at the number of my puffs, and my coiffure was a daily target for his wit. Yet, though he cut all the hair from off his head, and left it to grow upon his face, I felt no merriment.

In his conceit he made of me a human joke.

But now that I am become a widow, I see him as he is. Therefore shall I arise and smite him in his vanity.

Lo, what woman shall take men seriously, once she hath been married unto one of these? For he, that seemeth a thing of beauty and wisdom unto many virgins, is but a child in the eyes of his wife.

She knoweth the source of his opinions; and the padding of his shoulders is not hidden from her. His grouches are always with her and his digestion is her burden.

Go to! I have seen him at his mirror when he worked upon the parting of his hair. He hath borrowed my powder for his chin, and with my perfume hath he anointed himself. My nail-polish and my eau de cologne, they were not safe from him.

I have flattered him and beheld his fall. I have said unto him, “My love, thy judgment is above question and thy common sense above praise!”

And he hath smiled, as one that sippeth a wine of a rare vintage.

I have cooed unto him saying:

“Lo, thy reasoning powers and thine acumen are greater than those of Sherlock Holmes!”

And I have observed his secret joy.

I have cried out:

“Oh, why didst thou not go upon the stage? For thy shoulders are better than Faversham’s and thy profile than E. H. Sothern’s!”

And he hath straightway proposed!

The youths of the land have I called “Mr. Smith”, and the octogenarians addressed as “Silly Boy”. The fat man have I called “graceful”, and the ourang-outang, “distinguished”.

And all of these were overcome.

Their fairy tales have I outstripped with better fairy tales, and their devices with more subtile devices.

Verily, verily, men are as toys in mine hand; and, even as a child, do I delight to play with them.

Lo, she that fisheth for an husband, laboreth against many odds, but she that fisheth for amusement casteth her nets in pleasant waters, and they shall return unto her heavy laden.

CHAPTER THREE

The Litany of the Summer Girl, which she chanteth continuously, morning and night.

Oh, Lord, deliver me from the deadliness of the Summer Resort, and from all the deadly things therein.

From the emptiness of moonlight evenings without a Man, and the hollowness of life without a flirtation, now preserve me.

From the sentimental grafter and the platonic friend oh spare me!

For, the one seeketh after cheap flirtations, and collecteth kisses, as a woman doth trading stamps. And the other is as a wet powder-rag which sticketh, but availeth nothing. Verily, verily, a breakfast-food without sugar and cream is not more insipid than one of these.

From college youths, which are fresher than spring asparagus and more tender than spring lamb, oh, deliver me!

From old bachelors, which are staler than last year’s canned goods, and tougher than cold rarebits, oh, preserve me!

From the hotel “phonograph,” which repeateth the same old love-tunes night after night, year in and year out, oh set me free!

From the impressionist that cometh down over Sunday, deliver me!

For, when he hath loved me with all his heart, and with all his mind, and with all his impudence, for an whole week-end, he shall depart; and the scorners shall delight in their ha-has and the whisperers say, “She was but a temporary distraction!”

From the summer widower, that seeketh to return unto flirtation by a by-path, oh, hide me! For lo, I am not a consolation prize. Neither am I a grafter, coveting other women’s troubles.

From all gossip, and freckles, and tan, and sand-in-the-shoes; from the patronizing bride, and the youth that playeth ragtime; from the bathing suit that shrinketh, and the nose that peeleth; from mosquitoes, and cows and red ants; from hen parties, and springless straw rides, and manless dances, oh, deliver me!

Feed me with bon-bons and stay me with novels!

Lead me beside the full streams, where the fish are plentiful and the fishing worthy of the fishermaiden; that I may, peradventure, find, one eligible, who shall rescue me from the Land of Innocuous Desuetude, and usher me into the Kingdom of Matrimony!

CHAPTER FOUR

The Song of The Debutante which the Wise Virgin chanteth in her heart:

Oh, Providence in thy mercy, I beseech Thee, grant me these three:

A level head, a soft tongue, and a sense of humor! And the greatest of these is a sense of humor.

Lo, I do not ask for wealth, neither for beauty, nor for love; for, having a level head, and a soft tongue, all these things shall be added unto me.

I sigh not for the charms of an houri; and curling hair I shall not crave. Yea, though one husband be all that is granted unto me in this day of Progressive Matrimony, I shall not murmur.

Though my waist-line increaseth, year by year, and my teeth depart one by one, I shall not be cast down. For, a cheerful disposition shall sustain me, and the smile that cometh not off shall keep me charming.

Though chorus girls marry above me; though I never build mine own bungalow; though my frocks be made over, and my complexion made up, I shall not repine.

For, behold, I shall not take myself seriously, neither be filled with false illusions concerning men.

Lo, a woman that regardeth herself seriously is a human joke; and a woman that dallyeth with illusions is as a babe that played with matches. She burneth her own fingers.