According to a spinster correspondent, "A Bachelor" is mistaken in supposing that every girl who is in any way presentable is out to catch a husband.
Sisters! I've thought o'er this until my brain has blisters. Are you, indeed, such valiant resisters Of all the charm, the grace, the noble bearing Of that strange creature who's condemned to wearing A bifurcated garment, and whose hair Is pruned, say, monthly -- if mere wear and tear Has not destroyed the crop? Sisters, I stop To ponder that strange statement o'er Once more: And, though I don't know very much about it, Frankly, I doubt it. For if, indeed, you have no conscious aim, Then why, I claim, Why, sisters, WHY, Why the glad eye? And, by the by, Why that adorable, coy, cute, elusive, shy -- That certain -- shall we say, that certain sly -- The down-dropped eye -- That half expressed desire to gently lean -- Oh, you know what I mean. If there is nothing to it, Why do you do it? Sisters, indeed, I am truly perplexed -- Nay, almost vexed . . . Again I pause To meditate on certain proven laws, On certain schemes and -- shall we call them traps? Oh, well, perhaps: Biology and sex and motor rides, Gardens in moonlight, the jazz, the little dinner, the bush picnic, the surfing party and many things besides If you are really never out to catch (Not to say snatch) A noble husband, then -- wait a minute, Aha! I knew there must be some catch in it! Of course, a sudden thought, He never IS a husband till he's caught!. . . Let me retaliate, And boldly state: A spinster is mistaken in supposing That any man, no matter how imposing, How brave, how true, how noble, how devout -- A smany of us are, without a doubt -- Is out To catch a wife. Not -- on -- your -- LIFE! He's out to catch a maid. The giddy blade! -- To make her wife. Believe it or ignore it, But, sisters, this dull world's much better for it!
The Mooch of Life
|Copyright © Perry Middlemiss 2002-06|