follies. It won't be news to _us_, but it may open _their_ eyes. If
you can't do that, you had better retire into your tub, and cease your
painful barking altogether. I've got my eye on you, so be careful. I
remain (thank goodness)

A WOMAN.

* * * * *

Now that was not altogether an agreeable breakfast dish. And the worst
of it was that it was so supremely unjustifiable. Had my indignant
correspondent honoured me with her address, I should have answered
her at once. "Madam," I should have said, "your anger outstrips your
reason. I always intended to say something about men. I had already
begun a second letter to my friend VANITY on the subject. I can
therefore afford to forgive your hard words, and to admit that there
is a certain amount of truth in your strictures on us. But please
don't write to me again so furiously. Such excessive annoyance is
quite out of keeping with your pretty handwriting, and besides, it
takes away my appetite to think I have even involuntarily given you
pain. Be kind enough to look out for my next letter, but don't, for
goodness' sake, tell me what you think about it, unless it should
happen to please you. In that case I shall, of course, be proud and
glad to hear from you again."

I now proceed, therefore, to carry out my intention, and, as usual,
I address myself to the fountain head. My dear VANITY, I never shall
understand why you take so much trouble to get hold of men. They are
not a pleasing sight when you have got them, and after a time it
must cease to amuse even you to see yourself reproduced over and over