Dr. Ida Spelleman, librarian of the British Phrenological Society, addressing an audience of girls in London on Monday, warned them not to marry men because they looked nice, but to choose men with well-balanced heads, and especially to beware of flat-skulled men.
I wed him because he looked nice (said she) And I feared to be left on the shelf. For I wouldn't take mother's advice (said she), So I've no one to blame but myself. My friends always said that he had a flat head And a curious cranial kink; But I feel 'neath the spell of his lovely marcel . . . Now he's bald, and he's taken to drink. I wed him because he looked slim (said she) And athletic and noble and brave. I thought there was no one like him (said she), For he really knew how to behave. Now he's humble and meek, and, whenever I speak, He cringes and crawls like a tyke. Tho' bay-windowed in front, he's the soul of a runt; And I bully him just as I like. I wed him because he looked sweet (said she), Of manhood my very ideal. I thought that my bliss was complete (said she); I could hardly believe he was real. But he's real right enough; tho' not quite of the stuff I'd imagined the day I said "Yes"; But I hardly mind that, tho' he's bald and he's fat And slovenly, too, in his dress. I wed him for better or worse (said she) When with love I was slightly insane. But there's ne'er a regret that I nurse (said she), For I've really small cause to complain. For I'm fifty and fat, and my arches are flat, And I grumble and fidget and fuss. Yet he thought me, he said a dream child when we wed. So it's just fifty-fifty with us.
|Copyright © Perry Middlemiss 2002-03|