The Bridgeport evening farmer. [volume] (Bridgeport, Conn.) 1866-1917, 1913-02-14
Sentiment On Wane
In 1918 Valentines
LATEST MODELS OF CUPID'S MIS-
SIVES ARE EQUIPPED WITH
MUELLER FOR THE
TENDER TALK.


press1ons of esteem among friends.
| Genevieve caresl nothing for a sixty
thousand-volt passion if it is not ac-
companied by the latest cut motor
car, and all the bon nlots of society
now come from the head, not the
heart.
Yet, in spite of it all, st. Valentines
Day has decided to arrive as usual on
February IA. The saint still serves
puree of hearts to those who have
time for sentin entail dining. and Co.
pids, dressed sweetIy IN darts, are pre-
pared to hurry through the parcel
post.
In fact, the whole gay welter Of
cards and tenth-rate verse that strew
acres of shop counter to-day bear wit
ness to the dear old saints complete
unsophistication. He cannot be con-
WINGED that hearts beat different
/ tune from the days when cIasped
i received with palpitations. He new
er remembers that the incest hearse
for blighted affections, from the mod
| ern viewpoint, is a tufted bon-bon box.
He rings the stellar attractions
| OF yeSteryear with naive delight, and
just to keep the old chaps feelings
from being hurt, the makers pretend
/ to use the same amount of lacy stuff
and fri1ls. But these only attract the
| children now and must be dug up
from the bottom dusty layer of boxes
| in the stock room.
| Moreover, all that burning protest
| of despair and vivid verse of genera
ton ago has steadily declined in pop
u1arity since the breach-of-p promise
! court reaches such long hands into
| the pocketbook when affection coo1s. i
Surely the most cautious swain
can't feel compromised now when he
selects a paste1-tinted Dutch boy and
| a sentiment in a deIicatessen accent
which explains that ct 1of you ex-
| tremely''
Even the mercantile spirit of the
| age rings out in a desperate bit of
verse, which reads:
Love, love, love.
Love is such a dizziness,
That no man
Can tend his business"
Hurrying along for a more reassur-
| ing sentiment one meets, the state
ment printed above two figures with
round bone faces that you are all
right, but you're buttin' in too much
| (The modern unwi1lingness to merss
| the ego even among buttonsD
Another tab1eau in which ging-
| ham clad maiden plays football with a
| heart, bears the wall that you gotta
| quit kickin' my love aroun.
In fact, the present mode of address
between Galahad and his Ie dy is any
thing but the gallant repartee of the
golden age. Does he swear to WOO
and win her by sheer dfnt of courteous
deeds? Not much.
Under the picture of a cross-eyed
lad run the lines:
"Our eyes have met,
Our lips not yet,
But oh you kid,
I'll get you yet
Or else he sends her hammer with
the remark that I'm going to knock
away at your heart until I break it
If he wishes to convey the sensation
of distress he sends a trunk full of
pine needles, sayin Tnat 81 pine for
you and balsam, too
Oh, yes, there are all sorts of ways
to wrap your passion IN an epigram
or emba1m it in pun.
my favorite hymn is the title of
a book which when opened shows a
Iooking-glass and the reflection of
the reader. Alas, for the old-time |
hearts skewered together oozing sp1od |
gy drops of gore and the clasped |
hands with blue ribbons in the back |
ground. What chance have they
against these connections tinged
throughout with modern spirit.
ga valentine right out of my own
head explains the cardboard on
pins. There's my hand on it, is the
sentiment of a g1oved arm. "Cupid's
diary proves to be a long record of I
sweets, and those VINO really wish to |
take the "Great Adventure propose
by sending a lady a marriage license |
and q ring.
Dainty favors, such as ce1luloid |
cockatoos with weighted tails which |
fit on the edge of a glass, are always
revived around Valentines Day, and a
lot of pretty girl heads and interest
ing tots come out in hordes as though |
some Pied Piper were calling them.
Comics? There are none the shop
keepers tell you. Love itself is get
ting anonymous, in spite of all that old
St Valentine could do, and mockery |
long ago lost it's sting. The worst |
thing that Cupid gets off nowadays is |
to hover around a pictured beehive
and gets ''stung.'
There are no abusive Valentines
now-and the worst thing that one
hater can inf1ict upon another is
dressed up cloth espin with the remark
that t'you are a stick
To all these significant changes,
however, the gentle old spirit of the
day seems quite ob1fvious and insists
upon all sorts of tender "reminiscences
of our youth They crop out here and
there, occasionally, when the pipes Of |
Pan sound the love theme family |
through the modern din, and the |
Muses. cease writing verse for soup |
advertisements and turn back again |
again to praise an eyebrow
ON THE BURIAL OF LINCOLN.
And so they buried Lincoln? Strange |
Has any creature thought of Lincoln i