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. Oh! yes, she is very handsome, and she
dresses with exquisite taste (the result of devoting the whole of her
heart, mind and soul to the subject, and never allowing her thoughts
to be distracted from it by any other mundane or celestial object
whatsoever); and she is very agreeable and entertaining and
fascinating; and she will go on looking handsome, and dressing
exquisitely, and being agreeable and entertaining and fascinating just
as much after you have married her as before--more so, if anything.

But _you_ will not get the benefit of it. Husbands will be charmed
and fascinated by her in plenty, but _you_ will not be among them.
You will run the show, you will pay all the expenses, do all the work.
Your performing lady will be most affable and enchanting to the crowd.
They will stare at her, and admire her, and talk to her, and flirt
with her. And you will be able to feel that you are quite a
benefactor to your fellow-men and women--to your fellow-men
especially--in providing such delightful amusement for them, free.
But _you_ will not get any of the fun yourself.

You will not get the handsome looks. _You_ will get the jaded face,
and the dull, lusterless eyes, and the untidy hair with the dye
showing on it. You will not get the exquisite dresses. _You_ will
get dirty, shabby frocks and slommicking dressing-gowns, such as your
cook would be ashamed to wear. _You_ will not get the charm and