Part 20 (1/2)
LXVI.
MRS. SMITH'S REVERIE, WRITTEN OUT BY f.a.n.n.y FERN.
”'All dissimulation is disloyality to love.'
”'I've _thought_ so before,' said Mrs. Smith; 'but now I _know_ it, _because I read it in the newspapers_. These editors beat the D--utch for understanding human nature, (all except female nature;) _there_ they are decidedly benighted. However, it isn't for my interest to throw any light on _that_ subject; it is an interesting study that I shan't interfere with. But this is a digression. As I was saying, 'dissimulation is disloyalty to love.' Didn't Mr. Smith tell me, when he asked me, on his knees, to make him the happiest of men, that I was the only daughter of Eve he ever fancied; and didn't I, before the honey-moon was over, find in his old bachelor trunk, locks of hair of every color the sun ever shone upon? And doesn't it do me good to put my matrimonial foot on the cricket that I stuffed with them?
Certainly--I only wish I had their entire scalps!
”Well--didn't he come home one Sunday, with a face as long as an orthodox steeple, and give me 'the text and heads of the discourse,'
when he had been off rolling ninepins all the morning? And didn't I always know, when he kissed me, or gave me a twenty dollar bill, (which was much more acceptable!) that it was the premonitory symptom of a desperate flirtation with somebody? and wasn't I sure, when that buff vest, and blue coat with bright bra.s.s b.u.t.tons, went on, that there was immense execution to be done somewhere on forbidden ground?
”Well--'Life is short;' so is Mr. Smith. No help for either, that I know of! I'm too busy, amusing myself, to attend to his little derelictions. If there's anything that I ignore it is curiosity. It is so decidedly a _masculine failing_ that I scorn to be guilty of it!”
LXVII.
A NIGHT-WATCH WITH A DEAD INFANT.
”Moorest thou thy bark so soon, little voyager? Through those infant eyes, with a prophet's vision, sawest thou life's great battle-field, swarming with fierce combatants? Fell upon thy timid ear the far-off din of its angry strife? Drooped thy head wearily on the bosom of the Sinless, _fearful of earthly taint_? Fluttered thy wings impatiently 'gainst the bars of thy prison-house, sweet bird of Paradise?
”G.o.d speed thy flight! No unerring sportsman shall have power to ruffle thy spread pinions, or maim thy soaring wing. No sheltering nest had earth for thee, where the chill wind of sorrow might not blow! No garden of Eden, where the serpent lay not coiled beneath the flowers! No 'Tree of Life,' whose branches might have sheltered thee for aye!
”Warm fall the sunlight on thy gra.s.sy pillow, sweet human blossom!
Softly fall the night dews on the blue-eyed violet above thee! Side by side with thee are hearts that have long since ceased hoping or aching. There lies the betrothed maiden, in her unappropriated loveliness; the bride, with her head pillowed on golden tresses, whose rare beauty, even the Great Spoiler seemed loth to touch; childhood, but yesterday warm and rosy on its mother's breast; the loving wife and mother, in life's sweet prime; the gray-haired pastor, gone to his reward; the youth of crisped locks and brow unfurrowed by care; the heartbroken widow, and tearful orphan, all await with folded hands, closed eyes, and silent lips, alike with thee, the resurrection morn.”
LXVIII.
A LITTLE GOOD ADVICE.--FROM f.a.n.n.y FERN.
”'No person should be delicate about asking for what is properly his due. If he neglects doing so, he is deficient in that spirit of independence which he should observe in all his actions. Rights are rights, and, if not granted, should be demanded.'
”A _little_ 'Bunker Hill' atmosphere about that! It suits my republicanism; but I hope no female sister will be such a novice as to suppose it refers to any but _masculine_ rights. In the first place, my dear woman, 'female rights' is debateable ground; what you may call a 'vexed question.' In the next place, (just put your ear down, a _little_ nearer) granted we _had_ 'rights,' the more we 'demand' 'em, the _more we shan't get 'em_. I've been converted to that faith this some time. No sort of use to waste lungs and leather trotting to SIGH-racuse about it. The instant the subject is mentioned, the lords of creation are up and dressed. Guns and bayonets the order of the day; _no surrender_ on every flag that floats! The only way left is to pursue the 'Uriah Heep' policy; look _umble_, and be almighty cunning.
Bait 'em with submission, and then throw the noose over the will.
Appear not to have any choice, and as true as gospel you'll get it.
Ask _their_ advice, and they'll be sure to follow _yours_. Look _one_ way, and _pull another_! Make your reins of silk, _keep 'em out of sight, and drive where you like_!”
LXIX.