Ypsilanti sentinel. [volume] (Ypsilanti, Washtenaw Co., Mich.) 1843-1900, 1846-06-17
SHORT PATENT SERMON.
BY DOW, JR.

By DOW, JR.
My dear dandies and bellies, fops and flirts down
the hill of tme my text to-day is that much used and
abused saying,
"DoEs YOUR MOTHER KNOW YOU'RE Our.a
Poor, silly, inflated grub-worms, would say from
your shines and capers that she don't know you're
! out.
You, young lady with parasol like wilted cab
bage leaf on ram-rod, and chains of hair down each
c1eek, looking though bottle tailed spider dipped
in backing had been making an everlasting elope-
ment over your rouge-colored face, leaving broad
trail after him. and on your back peek of bran, and
mincing your gait, like you were picking your way
among rotton eggs, or were bare-footed in briar-
patch, and your linked to brainess dandy (but
I'll come at him as soon as am done with you'll
wigging along the street-and for what! To hunt
up indignant virtue, or suffering innocence to pour
balm on the wounded spirit of poverty?-or only to
your giddy heart with the corroding grease of
vanity, to hear fools whisper as you pass, 'what
fair girlf' Remember, vain one, beauty is but skin
deep, and the storms of matrlmony and the bleak
winds of affection, rubs it all out and leaves the
countenance bare and unbecoming as weather-beat-
en- barn-door, unless you put coat of the lasting
paint of meekness, worth and love under the varnish
of beauty. Ifyou can laugh like him who wins, and
you know that you are still loved and lovely, and
that you are yet beautiful, that the gloss which
hid your worth and goodness beneath its dazzling
glare is gone, you shed happy influence all near
you, and make poor errng mortals feel just like
man almost frozen feels when he sits down by
cheerful fire at his own home. He hears the storm
but heeds it not; he is happy once more. But have
you done this? I'm afraid you but butterfly,
born worm to die an insect.
All, don't half like that laugh; it was forced
you pretend to be pleased with that FOOLS wit, when
you know it stolen Oh, why such deceit, gid
dy, futtering worm of the cabbage patch! You are
sold, soul and body for little empty, windy useless
adulation; yes, sold to that old snake with fish
hook his tail, the snake that fooled your
nanny Eve IN Adams truck path-and oh, scissors
how he will strip off that nery, and raise dust for
a mile around, with that peck of bran. Say, flower
sucking butterfly, does your mother know you're out1
If she does she is unfahful to her trustshe ought
to be trusted again, any more than the man who
stole handful of acorns from the blind sow. Go
home, gossamer, and try to prepare yourself to be
woman, and then when you're abroad any body will
/
Now, you that was cut out for man, but was VIII
lanously spoiled in making up, I'll attend to your
case. For what end did you burst open the worlds
door, and rushed in uncalIed, like man chased by
mad bull! What good do you expect to bestow on
your fellow menu Some uesful invention, some he
roic act, great discovery or even one solitary
remark! No: those that look for any good thing
from you, will be just badly fooled as the man who
caught the skunk and thought it kitten; or the
woman who made greens of gun-powder tea. You
know where's the nices ttest pants, with the stron
gest straps, stick" but you don't know where
the next useful lecture is be delivered. You know
the color of vest, but you studied the geor
geous hues of rainbow, unless it to wish for
piece to make cravat of; you know how fool
/ feels in full Dress but you don't know how man
feels when he eats the bread earned by the sweat of
his brow; you know how monkey looks for you see
every day twenty times in your land-ladys look
| ing glass, but you don't know how feels after
doing good action; you don't know where the sight
is to be seen. Oh, you wasp.waisted, catfish mouth
ed, babboon-shouldered, caper-legged, goose-eyed,
sheep-faced, bewhiskered drone in the worlds bee
hive What are you good for? Nothing but to
cheat your tailor, to lisp by note line from some
poetaste sentmentay talk love, eat oysters grave
ly, smoke cigars lazily, and make silly girls act the
fool shamefuly. 1 say does your mother know you're
outl 1 am afraid you have mother nor never had.
! You are of no more use in this world than time
piece in beaver DAM har-mattrass In hog pen.
You fill no larger space in the worlds eye than the
toe nail of musqueto would in market house, or a
stump tailed dog in all out doors; you are as little
thought of as the fellow who knocked his grandmoth-
ers last tooth down her throat and for your brains
ten thousand such could be preserved in drop OF
brandy and have as much sea room as tad-pole In
Lake Superior-and as for your ideas, you have but
one, and that is stamped your leaden scul an inch
deep, that taiIors and females to be guled by
you and that you think decent people envy your ap
pearance.
Poor useless tobacco worm! You are a case
Does your mother know you're outa 1t is lunch
tme SO start, buy brandy toddy on tick from some
good natured landlord, eat lunch till you're tight
as drum, sneak to bed and think of nothing until
you are fast asleep to dream of apes, pant strapsand
taIors bills, not to wake until the dinner bell calls
you to eat again.
How many harmless, shallow mortals of another
order 90 scuddng about the sarace of the worlds
great waters,without an aim, without motiye,guided
only by chance, within or impulse, like melon top
in big eddy under a shady willow, until they are
swallowed up by the greedy jaw of death, and the
/ 6-.t thew Lnou thew know nothing. when see one