You seem, said I, to understand the female heart so well,
I make no doubt you are a general favorite among the fair
sex. Any man, he replied, that understands horses, has
a pretty considerable fair knowledge of women, for they
are jist alike in temper, and require the very identical
same treatment. Incourage the timid ones, be gentle and
steady with the fractious, but lather the sulky ones like
blazes. People talk an everlastin sight of nonsense about
wine, women and horses. I've bought and sold 'em all,
I've traded in all of them, and I tell you, there aint
one in a thousand that knows a grain about either on 'em.
You hear folks say, oh, such a man is an ugly grained
critter--he'll break his wife's heart; jist as if a
woman's heart was as brittle as a pipe stalk. The female
heart, as far as my experience goes, is just like a new
India Rubber Shoe; you may pull and pull at it, till it
stretches out a yard long, and then let go, and it will
fly right back to its old shape. Their hearts are made
of stout leather, I tell you; there's a plaguy sight of
wear in 'em, I never knowed but one case of a broken
heart, and that was in tother sex, one Washington Banks.
He was a sneezer. He was tall enough to spit down on the
heads of your grenadiers, and near about high enough to
wade across Charlestown River, and as strong as a tow
boat. I guess he was somewhat less than a foot longer
than the moral law and catechism too. He was a perfect
pictur of a man; you could'nt falt him in no particular;
be was so just a made critter; folks used to run to the
winder when he passed, and say there goes Washington
Banks, beant he lovely? I do believe there was'nt a gall