Newspaper Page Text
An Illinois "Battle Betlveen Bachelors and Married Men
P in the productive State of Illinois,
the home of Douglas and Lincoln, a leg
islative fight seems pending that is ridic
ulous enough to be funny and funny
enough to be ridiculous. Some of the
dear women are determined to put the
“brand of Cain” or some other mark
of distinction on men who have been
persistent enough and successful enough
U
to be married, so they can tell them when they meet
them from those matrimonial cowards known as
bachelors. The proverbial “bald head” of the
married men is not enough—for some wives may
not have had time to get in their work. That “sub
dued look” will not suffice —for some men are sub
dued in “pursuit” while others are subdued in “pos
session.” So they must be marked by another title,
to be used on pain of the chain-gang, when the
initial introduction takes place, in order that Miss
Puritan may waste not one single winsome glance
on Mr. Cavalier.
The Shreveport Times gets “mighty” wrathy
over the proposition, and in an editorial long enough
to build the Panama Canal it quoth in ludicrous
railery as follows:
“Curbing the Married Man.
“Another one of those legislative freaks we so
often see bobbing up with schemes to govern every
thing in the world by rules and regulations, has
arisen in the State senate of Illinois. Senator Ettel
son, almost under the shadow of the Lincoln monu
ment, has been accused of considering seriously a
suggestion to press a bill the purpose of which is
to enable unsophisticated young women to detect a
married flirt from the unmarried article. It would
seem that certain young women in Illinois have
been much exercised in the endeavor to ascertain
whether the swains who have made suit for their
love are married men merely trifling with their
affections, or whether they are genuinely and legally
on the matrimonial market.
It is a tragic tragedy that this letter reveals. I
had just “tried myself” on the first chapter of my
“rambles” in Mississippi. I had touched on a flying
trip from Texas, on a gladsome return to “Georgia,
home and Mother,” and various and sundry other
things that filled five pages of “scratch pad” paper,
leading up to my recent visit to Blue Mountain Col
lege, and had sent it, or thought I sent it to the
office. Being on the wing in Texas again I failed to
bee the paper the week in which it appeared—or
rather, did not appear, and proceeded to. give the
next chapter on Pontotoc. Behold on my recent
return to the office to find about half of my
“rambles” snugly snoozing in a pigeonhole, begin
ning with a sentence broken off right in the middle,
with the office editor incapable of knowing what had
gone before, and no other mortal on earth equal to
the task —not even the man who wrote the article
himself.
I am reminded of a company of German students
who were studying the writings of Heine, the great
German poet. They came one day to a very obscure
passage —a passage whose meaning baffled students
and teacher.
“I wonder if Heine knows himself what he
meant?” said one, bolder than the rest.
“Suppose we find out,” said another.
And so a journey to the distant home of the poet
was planned as a part of their literary course, even
as some students go on botanical and biological
journeys and others on geological surveys.
All the way on the journey the merry band of
students indulged in speculation as to what the
famous writer would say. He received them most,
cordially and then the spokesman said:
HOW VERY RIDICULOUS!
EDITOR AL KA MB LINGS
A Lost Chapter Found — Visit to German Poet —'Romantic, Glorious "Blue Mountains.
The Golden Age for February 25, 1909.
“In the minds of these guileless Western maidens
the whole trouble lies in the fact that when a person
of the masculine persuasion is introduced as plain
‘Mister’ Jones, there is no way of determining
whether he be benedict or bachelor, the result being
that embarrassing mistakes and serious complica
tions are likely to occur. In the case of the op
posite sex, they point out, the title indicates the
condition or state of the lady introduced, and these
good ladies insist that the same rule should apply
to both sexes alike, thereby making what is sauce
for the gander become sauce for the goose also, as
it were. It is not difficult to appreciate the em
barrassment that must be experienced by the long
suffering Illinois damsels who, after having con
ducted protracted seiges against the citadels of
man’s affections and having succeeded in compelling
capitulation, have found their conquests to be men
with two or more wives and a dozen or so children
each, scattered over the Western Hemisphere.
“There ought to be some protection afforded to
young women who permit themselves to fall heads
and ears in love with impostors, but is there no voice
to be raised in behalf of the married man? If the
charms of those Illinois maidens are so potent that
they cause married men to forget wife, or we might
perhaps say, wives, left behind them in some dis
tant state, is the man alone to blame? Senator
Ettelson declares that it ought to be made a felony
for a married man to use the bachelor’s title. So
far as our investigation has extended we have been
unable to discover when or where the patent right
or title deed to the term ‘Mister’ was ever vested
exclusively in the bachelor. All married men will
protest vigorously against being discriminated
against in the bold manner proposed by this Western
law-maker who is himself, doubtless, a dyspeptic old
bachelor who has been unable to hold his own
against the multiple wife handicap of some more fas
cinating rival. Fair minded men will support the
theory that married men should be encouraged and
assisted by legislatures instead of being discrimin-
“Mr. Heine, we are literary disciples of yours.
We are devoted to your writings, as this visit will
testify. We want to explore, discover, and appro
priate all the wealth of your meaning in every thing
you have written; and we have come to one pas
sage here which we can’t quite make out. We
suppose it is just too deep for us to fathom, and
in coming to you we acknowledge our own stupidity.
But any way, we have made this journey and are
here before you to learn from your own lips just
what you meant in this passage.”
The famous poet stood before the expectant com
pany, first with a smile of appreciation, now with
brow all knit and clouded, as he read the obscure
passage over and again. Finally he said: “My
young friends, you greatly honor me by your pres
ence, and I highly commend your assiduous search
after knowledge. But —to save my life I can not
now remember just what I meant when I wrote that
passage. I do remember, however, that it was the
most brilliant thing I ever wrote, and you could not
do better than to spend the remainder of your lives
trying to find out what I meant.”
And so I remember that the lost pages were well
pleasing to the writer, and that my readers might
do well to try to fill out in their imagination the
pages that were lost. 1 only remember that a “wire
gram” called me to Blue Mountain (there’s magic
in the sound!) and to A. and M. College at Stark
ville (again there’s magic in the sound!) and caused
me to hasten some long-promised lecture dates; and
with a song in my heart I hurried away to one of
the most enchanted spots which my cruches have
ever touched. And there at the depot at Blue Moun
tain was the “Queen of the Story Tellers,” Mrs.
"Bald Heads and Subdued Locks ” Don’t Count.
a ted against in favor of listless, languid, non-pro
ductive bachelors. It must be insisted upon that if
it shall be found necessary to protect the maidens
of Illinois against the seductive charms of muchly
married men, the burden of that protection should
be placed upon the simpering bachelors and not upon
the irresistible benedicts whose seductive charms
seem to have appealed so powerfully to the fancy of
the susceptible rosebuds of the West.
“It is submitted that if the Western bachelor is
not able to hold his own against all comers he
does not deserve consideration at the hands of the
legislature. Indeed, it is most ungenerous and de
cidedly ungallant to call in the power of the legis
lature to interfere in a matter of that sort. It
is not giving the benedict a square deal, because the
pale-faced, spindle-shanked bachelors of Illinois are
not able to measure up in the matter of personal
pulchritude attained by their rivals to discriminate
against them so, and is taking a mean advantage
of them to call in the legislature to interfere. Mar
ried men are unwilling to give up the ancient and
honorable title of ‘Mister’ which they have worn
since the time when ‘the memory of man runneth
not back to the contrary.’ And especially are they
unwilling to relinquish it to a spineless set who,
despairing of winning it upon an honorable field,
have sought by guile to wrest it through the in
strumentality of the legislature.
“If the Illinois legislature is determined to make
such distinction let the bachelor for whose benefit
the measure is proposed be Ihe one upon whom the
distinguishing term shall be applied. ‘Molly Cod
dle’ has been suggested as a fitting prefix to the
names of men who need such legislative protection
or, if that be not acceptable, the act might require
the young swain to part his hair in the middle and
smoke cigarettes.”
Nay, verily Pauline, the distinction would better
remain forever undistinguished than that the hair be
parted in the middle or that his lips be parted with
a cigarette. Selah.
Jennie Hardy, and a winsome company of her charm
ing girls. (The “Story Tellers” constitute one of
the popular literary societies with the making and
felling of stories as their chief employment.) And
their welcome was enough to “turn the heart” and
addle the brain of any wandering bachelor. It made
me feel almost like I wanted to hie away to Utah
and take the whole company with me. All at once
before we got to the house they began to say:
“Brother Willie, you must give ‘Climbing Upward’
tonight ”
“No, no! I gave that three years ago,” I an
swered. “I am going to give my new lecture, ‘John
and His Hat.’ ”
“But Prof. ‘B. G. ’ announced in chapel yester
day morning that you would give ‘Climbing Up
ward.’ More students are here who have not heard
it than those who have, and those who heard it be
fore want to hear it again.”
So I just got behind the nearest door, so to speak,
and patted myself on the back, blushed a little with
becoming modesty over the compliment and finally
agreed to repeat “Climbing Upward” like the dear
girl sometimes sings—“by special request.” But
that night when I was presented in a “gemlet” of
eloquence to that magnificent audience by that gen
tleman of gentlemen, Prof. A. 11. Ellet, whose rich,
racy “Little Speeches for the Truth” were so
greatly enjoyed by the readers of The Golden Age,
—I just told those finest of fine folks that I yielded
to their request to repeat “Climbing Upward” with
the distinct understanding that in their acceptance
of that repetition they would confess that I was
capable of giving a brand new lecture if I wanted
(Continued on Page Eight.)
5
