Muscatine weekly journal. [volume] (Muscatine, Iowa) 185?-1890, 1859-10-14
A SLACK TWISTED GIRL.

az 4sls +
wish you could see our "Soph' for
one week-you would see frst-rate
manager. I assure you. In the first
place, she is always late to breakfast
she combs or ties up her hair, but only
gives it smooth and q twirl, sets her
comb away and SO much is completed.
Her dfass generally has two or three
grease spots on the front breadths, her
shoes are down at the heel, and she
scuffs about rather than walks. She is
too lazy to open her windows to air
her chamber too indolent to take her
night dress out of her bed too inefi-
cient to throw back the bed clothes.
She yawns over her breakfast, laughs
with her brother about some young
"gent," hopes somebody can take
hints" looks over the morning paper
and reads marriages, the concert noti-
ces, the new plays at the museum, and
what is going on at the Atheneum, and
looks over the parlor register with a
yel!ow-covered book of the last trash
literature, till her mother says ::
"Sophia, dear, do you know how late
it is? Do, child, make your toilet.
Mr.. Woodfun may call, and what would
he think ?" For this pretty piece Of
clay is engaged to be married to our
Tom.s zen 'sae
v. Well, she goes into her nicely arrang-
ed ed-chamber, which the maid has so
carefully put in order, Heavens! how
pretty 1T looks in a few moments !
Stockings thrown helter-skelter, pair
of boots both stringless and threadbare,
the morning dress left just as she step
ped out of it, and her two old, faded
skirts all battered at the bottom. Her
brush is full of hair, her combs look
black as ink, her toilet cover is daubed
with macassar, BEARS oil and rosemary.
But she is now dressed for the parlor,
ready to receive Mr.. Woodfun. Her
hair is combed over her ears as smoothly
as if polished iron had Aattened eve
~ stray lock, her dress is neatly hook
ed up, and what a trim little form she
assumes. Her boots are hemmed close,
and she holds the Identical piece Of
rufhing in her hand to hem which she
began about month ago. Her mother
speaks of Sophia's industry-she is
afraid she will sew her life out of her.
She is thankful that MIR. Woodfun has
called to invite her out to the evening
concert. AID previous to going there
another dressing takes place, and her
room again looks as if Bedlam had
broken loose; which makes only three
times day that the chamber-maid is
called to put things to rights.
The worst Of all is ''our Soph'' is
expecting to marry Tom, whose father
is a rich man and put him to clerk
ship at FIVE hundred a year. Tom, dc
take another look before you leap -
Just one more, my dear fellow! Take
off the finger rings, take out the watch,
and look at the unmended hose; lift
up the dress and see the hole under the
arm, take off the ribbon around the
neck and see how greasy it is inside;
and, as live, her handkerchief is not
hemmed. What wife you are getting
Think OF her management-how your
shirts and dickies would be folded,
your stockings darned, your pants
mended, your rips sewed, and your
pockets Aeeced to pay for gew-gaws
and dressing maids, cooks and cham
Der girls. With your five hundred a
year all spent in the first three months
of housekeeping, and with your fingers
in your mouth asking pa to lend you
thousand or so! And then, to comfort
you, the slack twisted girl is your wife
is yours, entirely yours. Now don't
talk about hanging or drowning, or of
being swallowed up. Only let your
wife do her own work in her own way,
and, my word for it, something akin to
cholera will take you off; for malig-
nant diseases find their smart marks
where dirt and vegetable decomposition
60 on uninterruptedly.