The Opelousas journal. [volume] (Opelousas, La.) 1868-1878, 1872-07-13
Masonic Caudle.

articles called Mrs. Caudle's Curtain
Lectures" that ran through the press
a few years ago. They were written by
JerrOld, OF London, distinguished au-
thor, also Freemason. One of these
letters is so amusingly Masonic that
we tranSCribe it.
CAUDLE HAS BEEN MADE A MASON. MRS.
CAUDLE INDIGNANT AND CURIOUS.
Now, Mr.. Caudle-Mr. Caudle. saw ::
oh you can't be asleep already know
now what | mean to say is this: there's
no use, now at all, in cur having a dis
turbance about the matter; but at last
my minds made up, Mr.. Caadle |
shall leave you. Either I know all
you've been doing tonight, or tO-mor-
row morning quit the house. No, no :;
there's an end to the marriage state,
| think-an end to all confidence between
man and wife-if a husbands to have
secrets and to keep them to himself,
Pretty secrets they must be when his
wife can't know 'em. Not fit for any
| decent person to know, I'm sure, if that's
the case, Now Caudle, don't let us
quarrel; theresa good soul, tell what's it
| all about. A pack Of nonsense, | dare
| say; st1lI-nOt that | care so much
about it-Still I should like to know.
there's nothing in it I know better !;
I'm not fool, Mr.. Caudle I know
| there's a good deal in it. Now, Mr..
Caudle, just tell me a little bit of it.
I'm sure I'd tell you anything. You
know IwOuld. Well?
Caudle you're enough to veX a saint {!
Now don't you think you are going to
sleep, because you are not. Do you
suppose I'd ever suffer you to go and be
made mason if I didn't suppose [ was
to know the secret too Not that it's
| anything to know, dare say ; and that's
why I'm determined to know it.
But | know what it is. Oh yes, there
can be no doubt. The secret is to i'll
use poor women; to tyrannize over them;
to keep 'em your slaves-especially your
wives. 1t must be something of the
sort, or you wouldn't be ashamed to
have it known. What's right and prop
| er never need be done in secret. It's
an insult to woman for man to be a
Fremas0n, and let his wife know moth
| ing about it. But, poor soul, she's sure
| to know it sOmehOW-fOr nice husbands
they all make. Yes, yes a part Of the
| secret is to think better of all the world
| than their own wives and families. I'm
sure men have quite enough to care for
that is it they act prOperly-to care
for them they have at home. They
can't have much care to spare for the
world besides.
And Isuppose they call you Brother
Caqdle I? A pretty brother, indeed
Going and dressing yourself up in an
apron like a turnpike man-for that's
what you look like. And l should like
to know what the aprons for There
must be something in it not very respect
able, I'm sure. Well, I only wish t was
Queen for a day or two, I'd put an end
to FreemasOnry and all such trumpery,
| I know.
Now, come, Caudle; don't let's quar-
rel Oh you're not i'll pain, dear ?
What's all about ? What are you lying
! laughing there at But I'm fool to
trouble my head about you.
And you're now going to let me know
the secret, eh d? You mean to say
you're not? Now, Caudle, you know
it's hard matter to put me in passion
not that | care about the secret itself
no, wouldn't give button to know it,
for it's all masonic, I'm sure. 1t isn't
the secret | care about, it's the slight,
Mr.. Caudle; its the studied insult that
man pays to his wife, when he thinks
OF going through the world, keeping
something to himself which he WON'T
deed should like to know how that
can be, when a mans q amason-when he
| keeps % secret that sets him and his
wife apart ? Ha you men make the
laws, and SO you take good care to have
all the best Of 'em yourselves: other
wise woman ought to be allowed a
| divorce when man becomes a mason.
| When he's got sort of fcOrHer-cuDbOartl
IN his heart-a secret pIacein his mind
that his poor wife isn't allowed to rum
mage.
Caudle, you shan't close your eyes for
Week-nO, you shan't-Ilnless you tell
me some of it. Come, there's good
creature; there's a love. / am sure,
Caudle, wouldn't refuse you anything,
and you know it, or ought to know it by
this time. | only wish [ had a secret
To whom should think of confding it
but my dear husband ! should be
miserable to keep it to myself, and you
know it. Now Caudle ?
Was there ever such a man! A
brute !-yes, Mr.. Candle. an nnfeeling,
brutal creature, when you might Oblige
me and you won't. I'm sure don't OBJ
lect to your being Mason not at all
Caudle | dare say it's very good
thing; [ dare say it is--it's only your
making q secret of it that vexes me.
But you'll tell me-youIl tell your own
Margaret ? You won't ? You're a
wretch, Mr.. Caudle.
But know why oh, yes, can tell.
The fact is, you're ashamed to let me
know what a fool they've been making
Of you. That's it. You, at your time Of
life, the father of q family-I should be
ashamed of myself, Caudle.
And | suppose you'll be going to what
you call your lodge every night, now
Lodge, indeed Pretty place it must
be where they don't admit woman.
Nice goings on, | dare say. Then, you
call one another brethren. Brethren!
I'm sure you'd relations enough you
didn't want any more.
But know what all this masonry is
about. It's only an excuse to get away
from your wives and families that YOU
may feast and drink together, that's all.
That's the secret. And so abuse wo-
men, as if they were inferior animals,
and not to be trusted. That's the secret
and nothing else.
Now, Caudle, don't let us quarrel.
Still, Candle, my love; Caudle dearest,
say Caud1e
(Caudle recoIlects nothing more. for
he had eaten a hearty supper, and,
somehow, became Obliyious.)
ALMOST 4 MAsON.-We have q lady
in our city who some years since lost her