How Not and How to Choose a Mate

A woman with a sudden nervous gait – whose feet turn in – when on a trot she interferes with both feet, as well as interferes with everybody’s bizziness — whose countenance looks as if she washes it every morning with vinegar or ile of vitrol – her nose looks as if mortification had sot in from too much snuff taking; who looks on the beast man as a dog does on a piece of meat, only good to be torn to pieces and then devoured. Boys, if in the course of human events such a conglomerate human mass gets after you, your goose is cooked. If you get wedded to a female of this sort you want to hunt up the most approved method of washing dishes, tending baby and doing a general assortment of household duties, for such a woman will be off attending women’s nite conventions, and kicking up a mess generally until Lucifer arrives with his ferry boots to tow her across the river Styxz.

Boys, having told you the wrong gait, let me tell you the right one. If the promenader steps off with a gentle movement with the lower extremities, her toes turned out just sufficiently to fit between her feet, when standing still, a five inch piece of pie, as she steps off redolent with smiles, as if she thought the world was made for all human beings and it was a duty we owe each other to shed as much sunshine about us as the maker of nature had endowed us with word for all the afflicted and needy, a proper respect for the aged; with a heart so tender she would rather step into the gutter than tread upon a worm that was crawling in her path; with her habiliments neat but not gaudy; the roses on her cheeks sparkling as if they were color and warranted to wash bowing as polite to the thread-bare passer-by as to the queen in silks. Boys, when you see such a treasure, mark my words, her price is above roobies and fine gold. My advice is get her if you can, with such a woman your house will be paradise. Every button will be in its place; your pudding free from nite cap strings and waste hair. Instead of your wife being off attending conventions and others; she will settle down to her legitiment bizziness in building a hearthstone that will make the mouth of all henpeck husbands water like a thunderstorm in Jewly.

Get such a wife, and after business hours go home to her and not pass your time hanging about corners and making a confounded beast of yourself generally.

Doris B. Morton, Town Historian – Whitehall Independent – July 20, 1988

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