"
Now, look me straight in the eye, young gossamer-head, while I tell you
what I _know_. The girl who will flirt with strange men in public
places, however harmless and innocent it may appear, places herself in
that man's estimation upon a level with the most abandoned of her sex
and courts the same regard. Strong language, perhaps you think, but I
tell you it is gospel truth, and I feel like going into orders and
preaching from a pulpit whenever I see a thoughtless, gay and giddy
girl tiptoeing her way upon the road that leads direct to destruction.
The boat that dances like a feather on the current a mile above
Niagara's plunge is just as much lost as when it enters the swirling,
swinging wrath of waters, unless some strong hand head it up stream and
out of danger. A flirtation to-day is a ripple merely, but to-morrow
it will be a breaker, and then a whirlpool, and after that comes
hopeless loss of character. Girls, I have seen you gather up your
roses from their vases at night and fold them away in damp paper to
protect their loveliness for another day. I have seen you pluck the
jewels like sun sparkles from your fingers and your ears, and lay them
in velvet caskets which you locked with a silver key for safe beeping.
You do all this for flowers which a thousand suns shall duplicate in
beauty, and for jewels for which a handful of dollars can reimburse
your loss; but you are infinitely careless with the delicate rose of
maidenliness, which, once faded, no summer shining can ever woo back to
freshness, and with the unsullied jewel of personal reputation which
all the wealth of kings can never buy back again, once lost.
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