DOI Heft:
May 21, 1892
DOI Seite / Zitierlink:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17693#0261
252 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [May 21, 1892.
THE YOUNG GIRL'S COMPANION.
{By Mrs. Payley.)
No. IT.—The Choice of a Husband.
Any -woman, my dear young- girls, can marry any man she likes,
provided that she is careful ahout two points. She must let him
know that she would accept a proposal from him, hut she must
never let him know that she has let him know. The encouragement
must he very strong hut very delicate. To let him know that you
would marry him is to appeal to his vanity, and this appeal never
fails; but to let him know that you have given him the information
is to appeal to his pity, and this appeal never succeeds. Besides, you
awake his disgust. Half the art of the woman of the world consists in
doing disgusting things delicately. Be delicate, he indirect, avoid
simplicity, and there is hardly any limit to your choice of a husband.
I need say nothing about
detrimental people. The con-
flict between a daughter and
her parents on this point—so
popular in fiction—very rarely
takes place. It is well under-
stood. You may fall in love
with the detrimental person,
and you may let him fall in
love with you. But at present
we are talking about marriage.
Never marry a man with
the artistic temperament. By
the artistic temperament one
means morbid tastes, un-
certain temper and excessive
vanity. It may be witty at
dinner; it must be snappish at
breakfast. It never_ has any
money. In its dress it is dirty
and picturesque, unless under
the pressure of an occasion.
Itflirts well, but marries badly.
I have described, of course,
rather a pronounced case of
artistic temperament. But it
is hardly safe to marry any
man who appreciates things
artistic, because, as a rule, he
only does it in order that
people may appreciate his
appreciation ; and after a time that becomes wearisome.
Do not marry an imperial man. The young girl of seventeen
believes in strength ; by this she means a large chin and a persistent
neglect of herself. She adores that kind of thing, and she will marry
it if she is not warned. It is not good to fall in love with Restrained.
Force, and afterwards find that you have married Apathy.
The man whom you marry must, of course, have an income; he
should have a better social position than you have any right to
expect. You know all that—it is a commonplace. But also he must
be perfectly even. In everything he should remind you constantly
of most other men. _ Everything in him and about him should be
uniform. Even his sins should be so monotonous that it is impossible
to call them romantic. Avoid the romantic. Shun supreme
moments. Chocolate - creams are very well, but as a daily food
dry toast is better. Seek for the man who has the qualities of
dry toast — a hard exterior manner, and an interior temperament
that is at once soft and insipid. The man that I describe is
amenable to flattery, even as dry toast is amenable to butter.
You can guide him. And, as he never varies, you can calculate
upon him. Marry the dry-toast man. He is easy to obtain.
There are hundreds of him in Piccadilly. None of them wants
to marry, and all of them will. He gives no trouble. He will
go to the Club when he wants to talk, and to the theatre when
he wants to be amused^ He will come to you when he wants
absolutely nothing; and in you—if you are the well-bred English
girl that I am supposing—he will assuredly find it. And so you will
both be contented.
Do not think that I am, for one moment, depreciating sentiment.
I worship it; I am a sentimentalist myself. But everything has its
place, and sentiment of this kind belongs to young unmarried life—
to the period when you are engaged, or when you ought to be
engaged. The young man whom I have described—the crisp, perfect,
insipid, dry-toast man—would only be bored by a wife who wanted
to be on sentimental terms with him. I remember a case in point.
A young girl, whom I knew intimately, married a man who was, as
a husband, perfect. They lived happily enough for three or four
years ; she had a couple of children, a beautiful house, everything
that could be desired. And then the trouble came. She had been
reading trashy novels, I suppose ; at any rate, she fell in love with
her own husband. She went in daily dread that he would find it
out. I argued with her, reasoned with her, entreated her to give up
such ruinous folly. It was of no use. She wrote him letters—three
sheets, crossed and underlined. I warned her that sooner or later
he would read one of them. He did; and he never forgave her.
That happy home is all broken up now—simply because that woman
could not remember that there is a time for sentiment and a time
for propriety, and that marriage is the time for propriety. The
passions are all very well until you are married; but the fashions
will last you all your life.
I have no more to say on the choice of a husband. It is quite the
simplest thing that a young girl has to learn,—you must find a quite
colourless person, and flatter him a little; his vanity will do the
rest. And when you are married to him, you will find him much
easier to tolerate than a man who has any strong characteristic. Do
not get into the habit of thinking marriage important; it is only
important in so far as it affects externals; it need not touch the
interior of your life.
I have received several letters. ■ Ella has had poetry sent to her
by her fiance, and wishes to know if this would justify her in breaking
the engagement. I think not. She can never be quite certain that
it is the man's own make ; and, besides, plenty of men are like that
during the engagement period, but never suffer from it afterwards.
The other letters must be answered privately.
"THE DEADLY CIGABETTE."
Have you heard the Yankee threat to suppress the Cigarette ?
Ten dollars tax per thousand—as the French would say, par mille-
Is the scheme proposed, forsooth, to protect the Yankee youth
From poisons just discovered in his papier pur fil!
Such things might well have been in staring
emerald green,
Or even in the paler tint that's christened
" JEau-de-Nil,"
But it simply makes one sick to imagine
arsenic
Is lurking in the spotless white of papier
pur fil!
Strange the smoking French survive ! Surely
none should be alive ;
Fair France should be one mighty morgue
from Biarritz to Lille,
If there's also phosphorus, bringing deadly
loss for us,
In Hygiene's new victim, luckless papier
pur fil.
Yet some Frenchmen live to tell they are
feeling pretty well;
From dozing Concierge at home to marching <«■ r
Garde Mobile, " ^-
You might safely bet your boots that, with loud derisive hoots,
They'd scout the thought of poison in their papier pur fil.
Then how foolish to conclude that, because they hurt the dude,
Smoking all day in the country, half the night as well en ville,
After dinner Cigarettes, two or three, mean paying debts
Of nature, or mean going mad, from papier pur fil
VANS DE LUXE.
Sir,—I am going to start a Caravan! It's all the go now, and
nothing like it for fresh air and seeing out-of-the-way country
places. What's the good of Hamlet with all the hamlets left out,
eh ? "We shall sleep in bunks, and have six horses to pull us up any
Bunker's Hill we may come to. I intend doing the thing in style,
like the Duke of Newcastle and Dr. Cordon Stables. No gipsy-
ing for yours truly ! I've been calculating how many people I shall
want, and I don't think I can get on comfortably without all the
following (they '11 be my following, d'ye see ?):—
1. Head Driver; 2. Understudy for Driver; 3. Butler; 4. Foot-
man ; 5. Veterinary Surgeon ; 6. Carpenter (if wheel comes off, &c.);
7. Handy working Orator (to explain to people that we 're not a
Political Van; 8. Electrician (in case horses go lame, and we have to
use electricity); 9, 10, 11. Female Servants.
The Servants will have to occupy a separate van, of course. They '11
be in the van and in the rear at the same time ! I '11 let your readers
know how we get on. At present we haven't even got off.
Yours jauntily,
The Highway-man {pro team).
NOTICE—Jicjocted Communications or Contributions, whether MS., Printed Matter, Drawings, or Pictures of any desenj/uou, will
in no case be returned, not even when accompanied by a Stamped and Addressed Envelope, Cover, or Wrapper. To this rule
thero will be no exception.
THE YOUNG GIRL'S COMPANION.
{By Mrs. Payley.)
No. IT.—The Choice of a Husband.
Any -woman, my dear young- girls, can marry any man she likes,
provided that she is careful ahout two points. She must let him
know that she would accept a proposal from him, hut she must
never let him know that she has let him know. The encouragement
must he very strong hut very delicate. To let him know that you
would marry him is to appeal to his vanity, and this appeal never
fails; but to let him know that you have given him the information
is to appeal to his pity, and this appeal never succeeds. Besides, you
awake his disgust. Half the art of the woman of the world consists in
doing disgusting things delicately. Be delicate, he indirect, avoid
simplicity, and there is hardly any limit to your choice of a husband.
I need say nothing about
detrimental people. The con-
flict between a daughter and
her parents on this point—so
popular in fiction—very rarely
takes place. It is well under-
stood. You may fall in love
with the detrimental person,
and you may let him fall in
love with you. But at present
we are talking about marriage.
Never marry a man with
the artistic temperament. By
the artistic temperament one
means morbid tastes, un-
certain temper and excessive
vanity. It may be witty at
dinner; it must be snappish at
breakfast. It never_ has any
money. In its dress it is dirty
and picturesque, unless under
the pressure of an occasion.
Itflirts well, but marries badly.
I have described, of course,
rather a pronounced case of
artistic temperament. But it
is hardly safe to marry any
man who appreciates things
artistic, because, as a rule, he
only does it in order that
people may appreciate his
appreciation ; and after a time that becomes wearisome.
Do not marry an imperial man. The young girl of seventeen
believes in strength ; by this she means a large chin and a persistent
neglect of herself. She adores that kind of thing, and she will marry
it if she is not warned. It is not good to fall in love with Restrained.
Force, and afterwards find that you have married Apathy.
The man whom you marry must, of course, have an income; he
should have a better social position than you have any right to
expect. You know all that—it is a commonplace. But also he must
be perfectly even. In everything he should remind you constantly
of most other men. _ Everything in him and about him should be
uniform. Even his sins should be so monotonous that it is impossible
to call them romantic. Avoid the romantic. Shun supreme
moments. Chocolate - creams are very well, but as a daily food
dry toast is better. Seek for the man who has the qualities of
dry toast — a hard exterior manner, and an interior temperament
that is at once soft and insipid. The man that I describe is
amenable to flattery, even as dry toast is amenable to butter.
You can guide him. And, as he never varies, you can calculate
upon him. Marry the dry-toast man. He is easy to obtain.
There are hundreds of him in Piccadilly. None of them wants
to marry, and all of them will. He gives no trouble. He will
go to the Club when he wants to talk, and to the theatre when
he wants to be amused^ He will come to you when he wants
absolutely nothing; and in you—if you are the well-bred English
girl that I am supposing—he will assuredly find it. And so you will
both be contented.
Do not think that I am, for one moment, depreciating sentiment.
I worship it; I am a sentimentalist myself. But everything has its
place, and sentiment of this kind belongs to young unmarried life—
to the period when you are engaged, or when you ought to be
engaged. The young man whom I have described—the crisp, perfect,
insipid, dry-toast man—would only be bored by a wife who wanted
to be on sentimental terms with him. I remember a case in point.
A young girl, whom I knew intimately, married a man who was, as
a husband, perfect. They lived happily enough for three or four
years ; she had a couple of children, a beautiful house, everything
that could be desired. And then the trouble came. She had been
reading trashy novels, I suppose ; at any rate, she fell in love with
her own husband. She went in daily dread that he would find it
out. I argued with her, reasoned with her, entreated her to give up
such ruinous folly. It was of no use. She wrote him letters—three
sheets, crossed and underlined. I warned her that sooner or later
he would read one of them. He did; and he never forgave her.
That happy home is all broken up now—simply because that woman
could not remember that there is a time for sentiment and a time
for propriety, and that marriage is the time for propriety. The
passions are all very well until you are married; but the fashions
will last you all your life.
I have no more to say on the choice of a husband. It is quite the
simplest thing that a young girl has to learn,—you must find a quite
colourless person, and flatter him a little; his vanity will do the
rest. And when you are married to him, you will find him much
easier to tolerate than a man who has any strong characteristic. Do
not get into the habit of thinking marriage important; it is only
important in so far as it affects externals; it need not touch the
interior of your life.
I have received several letters. ■ Ella has had poetry sent to her
by her fiance, and wishes to know if this would justify her in breaking
the engagement. I think not. She can never be quite certain that
it is the man's own make ; and, besides, plenty of men are like that
during the engagement period, but never suffer from it afterwards.
The other letters must be answered privately.
"THE DEADLY CIGABETTE."
Have you heard the Yankee threat to suppress the Cigarette ?
Ten dollars tax per thousand—as the French would say, par mille-
Is the scheme proposed, forsooth, to protect the Yankee youth
From poisons just discovered in his papier pur fil!
Such things might well have been in staring
emerald green,
Or even in the paler tint that's christened
" JEau-de-Nil,"
But it simply makes one sick to imagine
arsenic
Is lurking in the spotless white of papier
pur fil!
Strange the smoking French survive ! Surely
none should be alive ;
Fair France should be one mighty morgue
from Biarritz to Lille,
If there's also phosphorus, bringing deadly
loss for us,
In Hygiene's new victim, luckless papier
pur fil.
Yet some Frenchmen live to tell they are
feeling pretty well;
From dozing Concierge at home to marching <«■ r
Garde Mobile, " ^-
You might safely bet your boots that, with loud derisive hoots,
They'd scout the thought of poison in their papier pur fil.
Then how foolish to conclude that, because they hurt the dude,
Smoking all day in the country, half the night as well en ville,
After dinner Cigarettes, two or three, mean paying debts
Of nature, or mean going mad, from papier pur fil
VANS DE LUXE.
Sir,—I am going to start a Caravan! It's all the go now, and
nothing like it for fresh air and seeing out-of-the-way country
places. What's the good of Hamlet with all the hamlets left out,
eh ? "We shall sleep in bunks, and have six horses to pull us up any
Bunker's Hill we may come to. I intend doing the thing in style,
like the Duke of Newcastle and Dr. Cordon Stables. No gipsy-
ing for yours truly ! I've been calculating how many people I shall
want, and I don't think I can get on comfortably without all the
following (they '11 be my following, d'ye see ?):—
1. Head Driver; 2. Understudy for Driver; 3. Butler; 4. Foot-
man ; 5. Veterinary Surgeon ; 6. Carpenter (if wheel comes off, &c.);
7. Handy working Orator (to explain to people that we 're not a
Political Van; 8. Electrician (in case horses go lame, and we have to
use electricity); 9, 10, 11. Female Servants.
The Servants will have to occupy a separate van, of course. They '11
be in the van and in the rear at the same time ! I '11 let your readers
know how we get on. At present we haven't even got off.
Yours jauntily,
The Highway-man {pro team).
NOTICE—Jicjocted Communications or Contributions, whether MS., Printed Matter, Drawings, or Pictures of any desenj/uou, will
in no case be returned, not even when accompanied by a Stamped and Addressed Envelope, Cover, or Wrapper. To this rule
thero will be no exception.