The Dawson journal., 1885-11-26
MATRIMONY,
A Discourse Full of Wit and no Moon
shine.

FROM Let.er to minneapolis Tribune
You are going to marry me off,
are you? How kind of you TO do
tor me what | never could do for
myself! l had begnn to think,
perhaps, it was time. From my
reserved seat on top of barbed
wire fence l have been watching
the procession a good while. Day
after day and week after week, ,un-
til the weeks have lengthened into
months, and the months into
years, | have looked on at human
ity's strange wedding march. It
is the old, old story
Leaf by leaf the roses fall,
Yelp by yelp young cherubs bawl.
The trap springs and another
victim IS caught. The ministerial
larlat is thrown, and another hap
less pumpkin is writhing and
dancing on the airy nothingness
of honeymoonatic delights-and
the honeymoon is made of green
est green chese, One by one
have seen my boonest companions
pass, ever passing, away to that
dread bourne whence no voyager
returns, save through a Chicago
divorce suit or the expense of a
flrst-class funeral.
A few years since, a noble band
OF handsome and high-aspiring
friends stood around me-fresh,
bright, verdant young plants. The
matrimonial simeon has swept
over the plain, and whore are they
now? Smitten, blasted, cut down
like the grass of the field, which
to-day is, and tomorrow is made
into hay to feed a donkey OF line
goose nests. Faded, withered,
dry enough for peasticks. Alas!
alas! what h1s got into the youth
of the land?
Caught By giggle,
See how they wiggle.
In vain do [ stand like q he. Nj
ODE, and, with out stretched arms,
implore them to halt and consider
their latter end. The tinkle of
piano or guitar, or the ripping
tee-hee of maidenly merriment,
comes floating on the perfumed
air, and the admonitory roar Of
friendly Niagara would be un-
heard. Heedlessly, needlessly
scorning destruction, onward they
are rushing, surging and pushing
down to destruction, or to matri-
mony, which too often amounts to
about the same thing. The young,
the brave, the ugly, the pretty, the
witty, the silly, the brilliant, the
stupid, all yield to Cupid,a seem
resistlessly bound to travel the
broad, gudgeon-beaten path that
leads to beatifc moonshine, white
kids and neckties, orange-blos-
SONS, affairs and mumbling par
sons, to yine-clad cottages up four
pairs Of stairs, grocer's bills, wash
days, sod biscuits, slop coffee,
saedy hats, patched elbows, faded
calicoes, drudgery, squalls, and
variegated unpleasantnesses.
Adams wooing cost him Eden,
and got him kicked over his own
garden fence in bare skin and
trousers, and fig leaf roundabout,
plump into the briar patches of
an unknown world Of sin, thistles
and cradles.
Lots Dulcinea came within a
grazer of getting him turned into
a Cardiff giant of sacked Turk S
Island salt.
Jacobs courtship Of Miss Ra-
chel Laban, who bosses the lem
onade well at every church festi-
val, subjected to fourteen years of
bitter slavery as wet nurse to a
herd of goats, while all the other
girls in the neighborhood giggled
at him daily from the windows.
For the bliss of resting his in
pate in the blue-check
apron of dusky Delilah's lap,
Colonel Samson, the great origi-
nal lion splitter and jawbone
swinger, allowed himself to be
shorn of his wool, his strength
and his glory, and played blind
horse for years in Philistine
treadmill,
David had to steal his sweet
heart, and bushwhack her distem-
pored old father the rest Of his
life.
Go1.,,oon'- ;olorlnv noAn him