The times., 1898-12-25
THE FALL OF MAN.
His Funerenl Clothes Have wrought
His Romantic Ruin.

interest women. do not mean dull men
or good men or the long-winded sort, but
men as a sex
They have evidently lost their roman-
tic attraction. and women regard the hu-
man male as an INDUSTRIOUS patient, ug-
ly convenience rather than as the fierce,
passionate, tender. mysterious being that
formerly set her pulses beating as he
gazed in her eyes or issued his COM
mands.
This sounds like a pretty big PROPOSE
ton, but ! have not only the facts to
prove it. but / know why the bachelor
and husband stock is so far below par
today.
II is your clothes, my dear nlan-frst,
last and always. Those dreary, detesta-
Bile. lons-tailed and no-taiIed coats. They
have killed-not love perlaps-but the
glamour of romance that used TO hans.
like a heavy perfume in folds OF laced
stocks or cavalier cloaks and that daz-
zled poor. weak feminine eyes when you
drew your glittering sword or cooked u
feather in hatband
1 remember the first time / saw the
Ninety-third Highlanders swing across
Regents Park in London. I am a mid
| dle-aged and somewhat frumpy person
myself. but there was delicious thrill
along my nerves, keen little catch of
ecstasy about my heart when / saw that
brilliantly-uniformed regiment of men,
worth the whole trip across the ocean
No doubt they were hard-featured lot,
those British soldiers. if one had come
to inspect them individually: cross
grained. knock-kneed, raw-boned fellows,
but when they swung their gay plaid
pettieoats along to the tune of Charlie
Is My Darling" l tell you. every man
seemed a hero. As for every woman in
the crowd nursemaids. fine ladies.
flower gfrls-all of US We're ready TO give
eur hearts as well as hands to those
bonny Seotchmen for the asking.
Nature knows. She doesn't expect hens
to run after sad-feathered cocks. or does
to follows bucks who refuse to wear ant
lers.
Just think what pass you men have
reached when woman actually has ,lif-
iculty in distinguishing her husband
from the walters around Il restaurant
table They all dress precisely alike. and
when Reginald's back is turned it is slow
work to pick him out from a groom or
butler. 7.i
You men expect white shirt front.
shiny boots and silk hat. the common
property of coachmen and servants, to
do the business. But IT does not,
Just listen 4 minute while I reverse
matters and put the case to you.
There is your Fanny. that dear, sweet
soul, who for n dozen years has scoIIed,
sympathiZed and loved you in per
fectly satisfactory manner. Yesterday
afternoon when she trotted home at your
side from the office, wearing a neat little
tailor gown. sober, sensible figure, You
no doubt looked with possessive approval
at her trim waist and rosy cheeks, pat
ting yourself metaphoricalIy on the back
for clever chap, who knew how to Sc
lect a good wife All the same. Fanny
aroused no very exciting sensations. The
feeling was not unlike the gratified in
dorsement you bestow upon u pair of
boots that look well and fit easily at the
same time
But that evening when the very same
coffee-pouring, baby-soothing. practical
Fanny rustled downstairs to accompany
you 10 the Smith wedding. behold what
different set of emotions her fair. white
presence aroused. The long, cleaning;
folds of a satin frock, the polish of her
graceful shoulders-why, the very vioiets
on her bosom and nodding plume in her
hair instantly drew a magic circle Of ra-
nance about the dear girl.
You stood, as 1t were, outside once more
in the rank and file of her admirers Again
the pretty beads pressing against the soft
flesh of her throat filed you with the
ineffable yearning of courtship days.
1t was Fanny, and yet not the tailor
made, dressing-gown, orimping- longs
Fanny Of familiar, everyday intercourse
This tulle-enshrouded creature is once
more a being full of charm and mystery
Again she inspires pretty speeches on
your lips, and as you slip the wrap over
all her shimmering finery you found it
irresistible to give tender pressure to
the satin bodice underneath
And. moreover, for week after F'anry's
successful appearance at the Smiths you
caught yourself thinking of her in all the
| tiresome routine of office work Not OF
| the useful, work-a-day wife, however, hut
a bewitching, satin-froeked woman who
stirred into active life the lovers ardcr-
| that had lain dormant so long.
| Now. what transformed Fanny in such
| q twinkling? Her clothes, of course and
bless your simple heart. Fanny realized
| it every bit when she gave that extra.
| flourish 10 her draperies and cilspeti ths.
/ necklace about her throat. She gauged
/ your emotions to q fraction and knew
| perfectly well just how far her frills and
| feathers would stir your sluggish selsa-
| tons.
/
complish such iaudable ends by such Ie-
| climate means, would Ike to ask what
| men do to arouse these same sort of emo
| tions in the breasts of sweethearts and
| wives2
| Why. they put on funereai pantaloons
! and coats, plaster their hair. shine their
| shoes and go forth tpoor, misguided be-
| ingsl. expecting to conquer my sex
| But they don't do it any longer They
| WOO women and wed women. and win
| their love and fidelity very often. but.
| alas, the mans days for fascinating daz-
| zling, mystifying and captivating his
| mate is done for.
| Fancy Beau Brummel in a cutaway or
| Buckingham in q sweater! Pah,
| Observe that unfortunate outgrowth OF
nineteenth century civilization. the girl
| bachelor. Fifty years ago she Would
| have worn ringlets to the end OF the
| chapter hoping, in nine cases out of ten,
! to secure some sort of a husband. Today
| she takes up with the women of her own
| class, they unite in an independent es-
\ tablishment, and men as n sex might dis
| appear from the face of the earth for alt
I they care.
| 1t is a pity I myself believe men per
| Sc are as nice as they ever were and are
still able to fight and love and dare with
| the heroes of old. but you cannot make
/ the majority of women realize it. In
! their secret hearts they think those tame,
/ dreary clothes must necessarily cover a
| very tame, dreary sort Of an animal. (,
Christmas Snowflake.
The snowflake is the ghost OF summers bee =
| n drifts unto Her cheek and there repo>es
i And sighs with Joy: 'sThe winters May to ne