That
furnace will go out. He will become the husband, "full of strange
oaths--jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel," and grow "into
the lean and slipper'd pantaloon." How will he wear? There will be
no changing him if he does not suit, no sending him back to be
altered, no having him let out a bit where he is too tight and hurts
you, no having him taken in where he is too loose, no laying him by
when the cold comes, to wrap yourself up in something warmer. As he
is when you select him, so he will have to last you all your
life--through all changes, through all seasons.
Yes, he looks very pretty now--handsome pattern, if the colors are
fast and it does not fade--feels soft and warm to the touch. How will
he stand the world's rough weather? How will he stand life's wear and
tear?
He looks so manly and brave. His hair curls so divinely. He dresses
so well (I wonder if the tailor's bill is paid?) He kisses your hand
so gracefully. He calls you such pretty names. His arm feels so
strong a round you. His fine eyes are so full of tenderness as they
gaze down into yours.
Will he kiss your hand when it is wrinkled and old? Will he call you
pretty names when the baby is crying in the night, and you cannot keep
it quiet--or, better still, will he sit up and take a turn with it?
Will his arm be strong around you in the days of trouble? Will his
eyes shine above you full of tenderness when yours are growing dim?
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.
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