The Savannah morning news. (Savannah, Ga.) 1900-current, 1904-02-28
THE SUNDAY NIGHT BEAU.

YVES an ass?
Whoever he was-and his middle
name must have been Solomon-he adj
vanced an opinion in which all women
will feel like concurring after reading
that a Brooklyn judge has just decided
Sunday night courtship is not valid,
end that a proposal of marriage made
on the Sabbath day is not a binding
contract. This is solar plexus blow
at love making that knocks Cupid out
of the wedding ring, for the Sunday
night beau has ever been the prop and
stay of the marriage institution, and,
with him eliminated, the majority of
girls can see the Spinsters Retreat
looming up dark and forbidding on
their horizons.
Naturally, the calamity of this de-
cision will fall heaviest upon maidens
in the rural districts, where Sunday is
the one day set apart by custom and
convenience for sparkling" but it's
baneful effect will be felt through all
the ramifications of society, from New
port to Newton Centre, for it is on the
holy Sabbath day that the heart of the
Millionaire, mo less than the pumpkin,
turns to thoughts of matrimony."
No statistics are obrainable upon the
SUD1GCl,
own up, we should find that it was on
Sunday that it first occurred to them
that they were lone, lorn bachelors, and
that they had it on Biblical authority
that it is not good for man to be alone.
At any rate, women will bear cheerful
and veracious testimony that nine
tenths OF all the proposals are made on
Sunday. Nor is this hard to explain.
Man has never been able to distinguish
between religion and love. The work.
ings of grace in him he has always
mistaken for the fluttering of his heart.
When he is pious he wants to propose,
and when he is uplifted by the Sabbath
calm and peace he feels that he can
love his neighbor as himself, especially
if she is young and pretty, and he
forthwith asks her to marry him.
Moreover, there is in Sunday evenings
a certain homesick quality that every
man has felt, but no one can account
for, that makes club cooking suddenly
turn to dust and ashes in his teeth, and
mems society, no matter how brilliant,
pail upon him, and that sends him forth
in search of some nice, quiet, sympath
etic girl, to whom he can explain his
beautiful emotions, and who, in the
process of time, he finds himself escort
ing to the altar.
Women are perfectly aware of this.
They know that Sunday is the psyche
logical moment when a man will pro-
pose if ne is going to propose at all,
and so when man, who has been cas-
ually calling upon a girl at any old
time during the week, moves up and
begins to make Sunday night dates, she
realizes that things are getting serious,
and that it is time for to decide whether
she will be a sister to him, or be mar
ried in church, with flower girls and
a choral service.
OF course, men call upon other nights
than Sunday, and girls joyfully receive
their visits, for just as one swallow does
not make spring, so one swallow-tail
lowering around in her vicinity doesn't
make girl the belle she desires to be.
She doesn't enjoy the less the atten-
tions from men that are without inten-
tion, but she knows them for what they
are. They may, or may not, mean
business, but the Sunday night beau is
a sure thing.
fortunately, men are not cognizant of
this occult connection between the days
of the week and their sentiments. In
deed, they may even go so far as to
deny that such a connection exists at
all, but women, who know a lot about
men that men don't know about them
selves, know it.. Any fairly popular girl
can make out a calendar of her beaux
from the nights they come a-visiting,
and tell you with almost exact certain
ty what they will do. And there you
digs up the unexplainable.
For instance, the Monday night beau
is almost invariably the old family
friend. He's somebody you went to
dancing school with, and made mud
pies with, and he calls you Mamie,
or Sadie" and criticises the way you
do your hair, and wonders why you let
that young fool Snigsby dance with
you six times at Gargoyle's the other
day. He comes to see you for a va
riety of reaSons-force of habit; be-
cause he was tired and wanted some
body to talk to him; because he was
hungry and wanted some home cook
ing, or because he has quarrelled with
his best girl and wants somebody to
sympathize with him and tell him how
to square himself. The Monday nightp
beau regards his Monday night girl as
sister, without a sisters fatal cam
dor, and is so little sentimental that
the family never think of getting out
OF his way and giving him a. chance.
Occasionally he does propose, but when
he does, it is more from a. dread of
having the present pleasant relation
ship disturbed than from ardent pas
sion. If the girl says YES" she goes
through life with a husband who is
like nice, companionable, indulgent
brother, but If she says no" he sinks,
without reproaches, back into his old
POolllOu, ana IL the girl IndrTleS anu
he doesn't he may keep up the Monday
night calling habit through life. The
Frenchman, who refused to marry his
fiancee because if he did so he would
have no pleasant place to spend his
evenings, was Individually a. Monday
nighter.
The Tuesday night beau is the duty
beau. He calls upon you because he
must, because he owes you a dinner
visit, or an opera box call, or because
he doesn't want his name scratched
when you make out your invitation
lists for the winter or the weeks end
In the summer. His visit is absolutely
impersonal. He would just as soon
talk to your mother, or your school
girl sister, or store dummy, and the
conversation is nice and unexciting,
and what they call elegant" in female
seminaries. You discuss the weather,
whether it has been a gay season or
oull one, were you at the Blank re-
ception, the sensational engagement OF
your dearest enemy, the last new ball,
and the last new play, and then he
tears himself away and goes on his
heroic round of duty Sometimes you
may fancy for a moment that he is