Page:Diary of a Pilgrimage (1891).pdf/185

 And you boys, you silly boys! what materials for a wife do you think you will get out of the empty-headed coquettes you are raving and tearing your hair about? Oh! yes, she is very handsome, and she dresses with exquisite taste (the result of devoting the whole of her heart, mind, and soul to the subject, and never allowing her thoughts to be distracted from it by any other mundane or celestial object whatsoever); and she is very agreeable and entertaining and fascinating; and she will go on looking handsome, and dressing exquisitely, and being agreeable and entertaining and fascinating, just as much after you have married her as before—more so, if anything.

But you will not get the benefit of it. Husbands will be charmed and fascinated by her in plenty, but you will not be among them. You will run the show, you will pay all the expenses, do all the work. Your performing lady will be most affable and enchanting to the crowd. They will stare at her, and admire her, and talk to her, and flirt with her. And you will be able to feel that you are quite a benefactor to your fellow-men and women,—to your fellow-men especially,—in providing such delightful amusement for them, free. But you will not get any of the fun yourself.

You will not get the handsome looks. You will get the jaded face, and the dull, lustreless eyes, and the untidy hair with the dye showing on it. You will not get the exquisite dresses. You will get dirty, shabby frocks and slommicking dressing-gowns, such as your cook would be ashamed to wear. You will not get the charm and fascination. You will get the after-headaches, the complainings and grumblings, the silence and sulkiness, the weariness and lassitude and ill-temper that come as such a relief after working hard all day at being pleasant!