TheJ< Y' n ? (TlTcf-Jolomon B i ft Hundred 4 h Ul i B Y H E LCN-ROWLANO 807.73 Rowland, H. R796s Sayings of Mrs /Solomon ~ 7 ^ VVAL THE SAYINGS OF MRS. SOLOMON EAiizl BEING THE CONFESSIONS OF THE T s rrv fri ff\ - \ A 1121 Orchestra BOOK OF CHAPTER THREE FLIRTS I CHARGE thee, my Daughter, seek not to break a man's heart; for it is like unto family pride, or a pin, which may be bent, but cannot be broken! Yea, it is as a ball of India rubber which reboundeth easily after the worst shocks. Lo, the heart of a woman is full of soft spots in which every man she hath once loved occupieth a "cozy corner". She lingereth tenderly over the grave of a dead love ; but a man flingeth a spadeful of earth thereon and proceedeth to dig a new one. And his heart is as a great cemetery! A woman keepeth a bundle of love-letters tied in faded ribbons; but a man cleaneth his pipe bowl cheerfully with the stem of the rose which the girl-before-the-last hath worn in her hair. A woman remembereth the dress she hath worn and the song she hath sung for each particular man ; but a man remembereth not the scent of violet sachet when the odor of heliotrope is in his nostrils. 112 six months, when he cometh by chance 'e or a lock of hair at the bottom of BOOK his trunk, he casteth it into the fire, muttering, "Now, who the devil put that thing there?" A woman recollecteth each pet name by which she hath been called; she alloweth no /women to label her alike. But unto a man, every woman becometh in turn "Little Girl" or "Baby" or "Honey". Lo, he is as one that playeth with skulls and sporteth with the bones of his ancestors; for he holdeth nothing sacred. He eraseth one face from the tablet of memory, and draweth another across it. He changeth his object of thought as readily as he changeth his clothes and his political opinions. For a woman's love is a slow flame which smoulder- eth always, but a man's love is like unto a skyrocket, which sputtereth out and cannot be rekindled. Verily, his "past" is always qtttte past, and his dead loves are quite dead. And there is nothing which is more wearisome unto him than the memory of yes- terday's wine, or yesterday's flirtation. BOOK O F FLIRTS CHAPTER FOUR MY Daughter, there are many styles of kisses, and they come in endless patterns, even as Oriental rugs. There is the kiss that sootheth and the kiss that thrilleth, the kiss that flattereth and the kiss that is a pastime. But the best of all kisses is the first kiss ; for it is the most difficult. Yet, in all the days of thy life, no two men shall kiss thee alike. For one man shall regard thy kisses as a boon, and another shall regard them as an amuse- ment; but an husband shall consider them, as the shaving of his chin, a morning duty. Hast thou scorned a man's kisses? Then will he exalt thee, saying "Lo! she is very proper." For he can think of no other reason why thou shouldst not desire to kiss him. Yet if thou hast consented to kiss only one man, he will say unto himself, "Verily, it is her habit. So doeth she with all mankind." For every man judgeth thee by the way in which thou treatest him. [391 BOOK OF FLIRTS If a man kisseth thy hand gracefully, beware of him ; for this is the habit of an accomplished flirt, which hath been acquired by much practice. But if he kisseth thee first upon the forehead, and then upon the eyelids, and then upon the lips, thou mayest choose thy wedding gown and decide upon thy bridesmaids. Lo, kissing is a fine art, and there are many artists ; and one shall take a kiss from thee as though he doeth thee a favor, and another shall take a kiss as though he had taken thy pocketbook. Yet, no man shall ever understand why thou seemest pleased, or why thou waxest wroth, when he kisseth thee ; for it is all in the way of his wooing. Verily, verily, a man who kisseth a woman with his hat on shall be annihilated. But he, that kisseth her as though he had never kissed before and never should kiss again, shall wear an halo in her sight. For he knoweth the Art of Arts. Orctiestrc BOOK O F FLIRTS CHAPTER FIVE LO, my Daughter, a man came unto me say- ing: "Let me be thy slave. For, behold, I am all devotion. And it is my delight to serve a fair woman." And I looked at him and smiled sadly. For I knew that he was invulnerable; and all my weapons were broken against me. But another came unto me saying : "Behold ! I am a woman-hater. Not one of them do I trust. Nay, not one can deceive and allure me. For I have their numbers, all of them." And my heart was gladdened. For, by that sign, I knew that he was easy. And my way was clear be- fore me. Verily, verily, men are of three varieties: the kind that must be driven with whip and spur; the kind that must be coaxed with apples and sugar ; and the kind that must be blindfolded and backed into the shafts of matrimony. And the woman-hater is like unto the last. [41] Orchestra. BOOK O F FLIRTS Therefore, I charge thee, when thou meetest one of these seek not to argue with him, neither to convince him ; but agree with him sweetly, that all thy sex is weak and untrustworthy. Orche.tr* | Discourse sorrowfully upon the pitfalls of flirtation, and the hollo t wness of love, and the horrors of matri- mony. Declare boldly thy scorn for the New Woman, and for the Old Woman, and for the Frivolous Woman, and for the Highbrow, and for the Lowbrow, and all the women that are on the earth and in the heavens above the earth. And when thou hast disarmed him, taking all his arguments from out his mouth, speak sweetly con- cerning the beauties of platonic friendship and wax rapturous in its praises. Bring the cushion for his head, and the footstool fof his feet, and feed him from the chafing dish with the fruits of thine own cooking, saying: "I prithee, do smoke, for it is so chummy! Yea, I beg of thee, treat me as thou wouldst a man friend." hand. Orchestra A 112' Orchestra. I And he shall say in his heart: "Would to heaven I were not a Woman Hater, and that all women were like unto her ; for she is sensible and sincere and a bachelor flat was never like this I" And upon the seventh evening he shall fall down before thee and retract all his words, eating them one by one. And when thou remindest him of thy warnings and of thy fear of marriage, he will seek to persuade thee and will comfort thee with kisses and a soli- taire. Then shalt thou slip the bridle over his head and the reins shall be in thine hands. And there shall be one less Woman Hater in the world. For a Woman Hater, my Beloved, is like unto the simple ostrich, which hideth its head in the sand and thinketh itself safe. But he that professeth open adoration is like unto the park squirrel, which will eat out of thine hand an never be caught I A 112 Orchestra. nsur \ A 1121 Orc*>ctr. I BOOK CHAPTER SIX O F FLIRTS M Y Daughter, a woman is a study in moods and tenses, but man is a simple prop- osition which worketh according to a "system". Behold, how the two regard a letter. For when a woman writeth she spelleth her soul out on paper; but a man putteth all his tender meanings between the lines. Yea, a woman's letter is a confession, but a man's letter is a veiled allusion which concealeth his thoughts. Verily, it is a work of art. Yet, when a woman receiveth it, she readeth it over many times, and placeth it within her shirtwaist by day, and under her pillow by night. For she know- eth that, with temptations like unto telephones and post-cards within reach, a hand-written letter is a sign of devotion. But, when a man receiveth a woman's letter, he droppeth it in his pocket. Nay, not in the pocket above his heart, but in that pocket which containeth the fewest bills and receipts and lead pencils and other valuable ami A 112 I Orchestrt BOOK O F FLIRTS He carryeth it there faithfully until he changeth his coat. He layeth it away in an unused drawer amongst other trash. He forgetteth it. And, when years shall have passed, he findeth it and taketh it out curiously. He regardeth it with astonishment. He wrinkleth his brows with his great effort at re- collection, saying: "Now who the dickens wrote this thing? Yea,