The Cambria freeman. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1867-1938, 1869-04-01
NO BEAUx ANVWHERE.


No beauxl Absolutely no beaux
Well young ladies, stop and consider, if,
after all, you yourself have not pronounced
tine sentence of banishment.
''Wei We Danish them? Good gra
| cious Is it not for them we have devised
all this elaboration of adornmentf We,
| indeed! Were we not for weeks, before
we came to these odious mountains, where
men are as scarce as French half dressers,
| closeted with our dress-makers and millin-
ers to produce these bewitching suits
long and short, for morning and evening,
outdoor and indoor wearl Have we
not cool dresses and warm dresses; dresses
| for rain, dresses for sunshine. dresses for
neutral weather, with ribbons, gloves,
sashes, parasols, hats and fans to match
to the minuest shade For whom should
we take all that trouble but for the beauxl
And how are we responsible for their dis
| gushing absence p
Listen, my dears, for in that which you
have just said lies your offence. Can
damsels thus arrayed walk in the woods.
climb the mountains Except in poetry y
! Can they take even an ordinary, mild
walk, without mortal terror of periling
their miIlinery7 Must they not, there
fore, ''ride," morning, afternoon and
evening, everywhere, to the delectation of
| the stable keepers, and the consequent
| pecuniary depletion of the ''beaux !"-
These beaux, whose fathers may be rich,
but whose sons have yet to fill their indi-
vidual Golfers; these beaux, who have
| just 80 much to expend when they get
away from a summer holiday, and who
do not desire to pour it all into the pockets
of the stable-keepers /; these beaux, who
can get vastly more fun out of their purses,
and make them last longer, with party
of ''the fellows is the reason that,
with rare exceptions, you have to throw
away these ravishing toilettes on your
own sex, when you play croquet, or sit
on the piazza, dreaming of the looming
man."
My dears, he tcont come He knows
! too much. He has seen his sisters mil
| linery and mantua-maker bills, and heard
| the family discussion thereon; and though
he acknowledges yo1r fascinations even
through all the absurd toggery you are
doomed by fashions slavery to have and
to enable him to foot his angels bills So
he runs away from you, discreetly; runs
off fishing, or cunning with the 'fellows,"
and, wiser than you, comes home brown,
hale and hearty for The winter months, in
stead of perspiring at your side in tight
boots and yellow kids.
! Do you begin to understand I Now,
my dear, if you have been ushered into
the world in coach and six, till your feet
and hands have become paralyzed for
want of use, that is your Misfortune, and
| your fault. Because that necessitates
rich husband. And as there are very few
rich soung husbands, you will have to bid
good bye to your girlish ideal, and marry
the bold headed, gouty Mr. Smith, who
was born at the same time as your own
father. This, my dears, you will have
TO do, or face your nightmare, single bless
ed1ess.
l have looked at you playing croquet,
without coat-tail among you nave
seen you driving yourself out in your pIet-
ty little phaetons and thought you put
brave face on it. knew very we'll what
is going on under that gay little sash of
yours; and think it is pity that you
should have been brought up to many ar
tifcial wants, that your heart must 60
hungry In ife's spring time because of
them.
My dear I never lacked beaux at your
age. But a walk in the woods, or in the
city either, involved no expense to my
beaux. / could climb q tence, where
there was no gate, or where there was
either; / was not afraid of dew or rain
because my dress was simple. My gifts
were not diamonds, but flowers, or books
My mother would not have allowed me TO
ride with gentlemen, had they asked -
When they came to spend the evening our
tray of refreshments did not involve a
''F'rench cook"
So you see my dear, though I had no
silk dresses, had plenty of beaux, and
a gay heart and l enjoyed a sail with
an old sun-bonnet over my curls, or
moonlight ramble with a merry party,
much better than you do 'sths Germany"
and half an hour was sufficient warning
for me to EFdress' Cor any kind of party
In doors or out-because. unlike you, l
was not bothered to choose from twenty
dresses which to wear and l will give
you leave to ask of my beaux, who are
now grandfathers if l was not able at that
time to settle their accounts And it is
because l had such good time that feel
vexed that your youth and prsttiness
should SO often go a>begging-through no
fault of yours /; and you may show this to
your mothers, and tell them say So
CIIMAx-ssMv SON." said an affec-