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'BETTER BE AN OLDMANS DARLING, NI YNIG
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Mr. Alsop, Whose Wife,
50 Years Vw Than
He, Is Suing for a
Separation.
HAD always been brought up to be
lleve that there was golden truth in
the old maxim
“Better be an old man's darling
Than & young man's slave.”
1 know pow that this is not true. |
have been an old man’s dariing
When | was nineteen years old I mar
ried an aged multimillionstre who is on
his way toward his eightieth year
My marriage to old Mr. Alsop was
against my own judgment, my impulse,
my instinet and my best reasoning. But
] was carried off my feet by the false
logic of that wretched adage which |
have just guoted above
1 should never have married this aged
matrimonial partner if 1 had not been
fnfluenced by the false doctrine of that
wickedly misleading maxim. Iln the hours
and hours of repentance and awakening
from this false dream I have taken the
trouble to look into the origin of this
‘mischievous proverb And it seems 0
have had a Dutch origin. If I had known
as much of the maxims and proverbs and
Hterature of love three years ago, when
1 married Mr. Alsop, as | know now,
when 1 am suing him for a separation, 1
would never have married him
For instance, Shakespeare created the
adage: “Crabbed age and youth cannot
live together” And another similar one
is “Gray and green make the worst med
fley." And there are many others.
Why did I not know these truthful
maxims instead of the utterly false one
that has ruined my life!
Yes, rulned. For, although 1 am now
only twentythree years old, 1 have
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Mrs. Alsop Demonstrating the Maxixe Step
Which Made Mr. Alsop So Angry “He
Ordered My Partner from His
House, Never to Return.”
pru.t.hod so long the atmosphere of age,
aave dwelt so long among old people,
old houses, old stories and old-fashioned
eules of conduct that I am prematurely
e:d myself. I sacrificed on the marriage
altar the things that make life worth
\iving—things beautiful, {irrevocable—
my youth, my girlhood dreams. Like the
wings of bright butterflles imprisoned in
a tomb, they have withered to gray dust.
“yet we know that something sweet
Follows Youth with flying feet,
And will never come again.”
1 do not wish to emphasize my per
sonal experiences as the wife of Edward
B. Alsop, except as they are figurative
of one of the Great Impossibilities—the
gmrriase of a young girl to an old man.
ut I hold it a solemn duty to present
some of those remarkable experiences
as a warning to other potential “old
men’s darlings,” dazzled and deceived.
1 do not attempt to place blame for the
tragedy of my married life. Was it I?
Was it Mr. Alsop? Was it the plate he
smashed in the midst of a dinner party
because I danced with a young man?
was it my boredom with his antique
friends and my isolation from all friends
of my own age? I would not say. I
would brush, rather, out and away, all
the petty personalities and differences
and declare the thing to blame was sim
ply the barrier of the years—the intan
gible, yet insurmountable, wall which
divides the generations. Upon that wall
The Saddening Experiences of
Young Mrs. Alsop Who
Married A Multi-Millionaire
Four Times Her Age and Soon
Learned How Cruel, False
and lllogical The Old Maxim Is
fs written in letters of fire: “Let youth
choose youth in wedlock; age cleave to
age”
There were two or three “generstion
barriers” between Mr. Alsop and myself.
There is a speculative possibility that |
might have been able to endure the ex
clusive society of people of the genern
tion before mine. But the faded deni
gens of the dim past, from among whom
1 was called to choose my companions
and in whose cackled quips and anec.
dotss, venerable as themselves and as
often visited upon me, | was supposed
to find amusement, they were a bit too
far in the forest of time
As 1 breathe deep of this free alr of
California—though |am not yet free of
the legal bonds that hold me to my hus
band—l can scarcely keep from crying
aloud my joy of emancipation from the
society of crones and cronies.
Riches? You say that I was surround
ed with all the things of luxury and
beauty, of culture and comfort, that most
women crave? Why, lttle girl, you who
are being pampered and petted, beset’
with gifts and compliments by some
grayhalred courtier, 1 tell you that I
would rather be a free scrubwoman than
return to the moral slavery that went
with the luxuries.
As a matter of fact, Mr. Alsop was
parsimonious with me in the extreme—
after our marriage—but I admit the beau
tiful old mansion in Washington was
m:‘mmm So is an Egyptian
tom
Rather the sight from my window of
that graceful, slatternly cowboy riding
off to the herds below the biue mountains
—youth and strength and freedowm of the
w“mma-uh@ou_gm%
sop mansion, where old
men and chattering old
women pass through the
gllded halls to worship at
the shrine of obsolete so
cial sanctities.
That was the trouble It
wasn't his jealousy, al
though when he became
jealous of his own son It
dld seem a pity. It wasn’t
his belng stingy with me
about spending money, for
1 could usually coax him
to pay the bills. It wasn’t
lack of devotign, for my
husband was much, much
too foolishly affectionate.
It was the biind, cruel, im
possible idea that he could
mould tae into the spirit,
if not the likeness, of his
aged friends, and still keep
me happy.
He moulded me. I am
an old woman—at twenty
three. I catch myself look
ing in the mirror for gray
hairs. But as to bappiness
(and I belleve he wished to
make me happy. In his own
way) it simply couid not
exist for me in the atmos
phere of the early forties.
It was when we gave our
first dinner after the wed
ding that I was initiated.
Mr. Alsop made out a list
of people to ask. When I
saw that they were all
from the other half of the
last century I-was dis
mayed. 1 suggested that
we agk some of my young
friende. He would none of
it. This was to be a digni
fied and formal dinner, not
a children's party. If I
could not form myself to
the high position to which
I had been called I could
at least refrain from In
terfering with the cus
tomary tenor of the Alsop
regime. i
1 wept—and he won. They came.
I do not wish to make lght of the
{infirmities of age, but when that line of
the bald and the gray went bobbing past
me my heart went cold. I felt like Rip
Van Winkle after he woke up—the soul
still young in him, but to his eyes the
faces of all his human associates suddenly
seared with years. It wasn’t that I
trembled for the future. There didn't
geem to be much of any future in this
world of people on the verge of the grave.
1 felt only a clammy, a deadening finality.
I thought I had ons foot in the grave, too.
They talked. I learned that the White
House is not what it was in the days of
dear President Plerce. I learned that
Alice and Phoebe Cary were twin lights
of poesy and that Oliver Wendell Holmes
was the greatest humorist that ever lived.
1 heard stories of “befoh the wah”—
stories that I was to hear again and yet
again. I felt as if some unseen power had
whisked me out of myself and set me back
three-quarters of a century. The only
up-to-the-moment remarks of the evening
were the confided opronicles of the state
of this one’s rheumatism -and that oOne’s
gout.
I rebelled and managed to push up a
few frightened Spring-shots of Youth
through this human mola. I obtained per
mission to have a few young people at the
dinners. That only led to more bitter
troubles. That house was dedicated to
old age; my life was to be a sacrifice to
1. Whether the weapon was jealous rage
or silent disapproval, my trembling
friends were driven from my doors,
Laet me recall here a scene or two from
among the many “scenes” in the little
drama ealled “An Old Man's Darling:™
The Library—iils two young sons have
come home from college for the holldays,
They are manly, refreshing fellowa
Harold says: “look out, dad, or we'll
ran away with mamma™ A remark n
most shocking taste, but quite forgivabie
by any one with understanding of a 00l
lege boy's sense of humor. [ see the blow
coming before it falls lr.un‘lho
into fury. Quivering with rage, he de.
nounces the startied lad until he fees
from the room. Harold has since died
A Dinner Party at Our Houow';‘l few
oung have been asked, am
(. ..:n.::mfllal against senlle mo
nopoly of my social existence. 1 have
even managed to have a little music for
dancing. There is A young man sittirg
next me who discusses a new step. He
will show 1t to me after dinmer. | am
hored and nervous with the talk of the
aged majority, It is between courses and
the musicians are playing. “No; let's
dance It now,” 1 exclaimed on a
sudden impulse. And away we
whisk around the room.
There is & crash. The table Is
in confusion. My busband has
raised his plate aad smashed it to
bits in front of him upon the table,
He had risen red-faced and furious,
and the evening is ruilned.
A dance at our house several
weeks later-—I have moped at
home until Mr. Alsop has con
sented to the dance. He strides
upon the floor in the midst of &
maxixe and hotly orders my young
partner from his house, never to
return.
These cruel humiliations con
tinued and developed new phases.
My allowance of spending money
was so small that it amounted to
practieally nothing. But if I went
shopping to New York, my fond
but jealous husband let me know
that he would pay no bills. That
was to bring me home early.
My nerves broke under the
strain. In despair I fled to Europe.
He came after me and brought me
home. But I shuddered in the air
of the quiet house. [ ghrank from
his constant caresses. | fled for
the last time.
Had I‘ever been In love with
him? No. But 1 had honored and
respected the stately courtier who
began to dominate my life when I
was fourteen years old.
Fourteen! A little mald in a
sunbonnet on the lawn of a hote,
at Lake Toxoway, North Carolina,
My mother {8 with me. Friends
from Atlanta have a friend to in
troduce to us. It is Mr. Alsop.
Instantly he has singled me out
from among the others. He bends
above me as deferentially as to a
queen. He pays me playful com
pliments., And I sit and look up,
blushing with embarrassment,
into the eyves of the man who is to
be for years to come the con- ¢
trolling figyre in my life.
At Toxoway they called him
my “big Newfoundland dog,”
because he followed me about
so falthfully. They are skilled
and persistent wooers—these Romeos
of seventy. Every day after the first
meeting he sent me flowers; every other
day, a box of candy. He flattered me into
silly self-esteem by confiding to me busi
ness “secrets” which he knew I did not
understand. I was proud of the trust.
When he returned to Washington he
continued to send gifts—perfectly proper
ones, candy and books and flowers, but
ten pounds of candy at a time, crates
of flowers and whole sets of authors’
works, y
The filve years of his courtship were
Why Doctors Endorse Military Training for American Boys
ATIONAL defense {8 perhaps the
N leading question to-day, and no
profession is more vitally interested
than the medical, for none must contrib
ute more of its personnel to the military
forces, writes the editor of American Medi
cine. There are no differences of opinion
as to the necessity for us to be prepared
to repel invasion, but the kind and amount
of preparedness are the points in dispute.
Even the extreme pacificists who argue
that armaments ought to disappear and
will disappear in time, seem to be unani
mously of opinion that for the present we
must be able to defend ourselves. All
natione depend upon a citizenry trained
and accustomed to arms, and that fact is
gecepted In this country. We must now
determine, how many citizens should be
trained and how long?
The English speaking nations have never
made any efforts in this direction in times
of peace, and have trained only the few
“. Copyright, 1815, by the Star Company. Great Britaln Rights Reserved.
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Young Mrs. Alsop, Who Tells Here Why Life as “An Oid Man’s Darling” Must End in Failure.
happy Yyears, although, unconsciously,
surely, subtly, I was belng severed from
my youth., About me, even then, were
being forged the shackles of which only
an “old man’s darling” can know the ul
timate pain. With young companionship
as a background for his love, all was well.
But even the young friends spoke the
lying adage in a cynlc chorus that 1
then thought sincere.
1 had come to rely upon Mr. Alloy in
all things. He wrote me pages of love
mingled with pages of business confl
dences. So it went on for flve years. Of
who volunteer for service in the small army
and navy. The Swiss go to the opposite
extreme and train every one a certaln
number of hours or days each year but per
mit them to go about their civil employ
ments in the meantime. The rest of the
Continental nations adopted a half way
measure.
They train only those needed to keep
the regulan army up to a certain strength
which varies according to the supposed
need of having a force for instant use—
about 1 per cent of the population more
or less being kept under arms. It takes a
long time to recruit an army and equip it.
The Russians required eighteen months
to get ready to flght the Japanese, who
won out by preparedness. The war ended
‘because of domestic disturbances in Eu
rope just when the Manchurian army was
ready to fight.
Whether or not we should be furnished
with a large army for instant use need
course, then it was settled. The shackles
were beyond breaking. He had formed
all sorts of combinations in restraint of
my doubting heart. The love of an aged
millionaire is as monopolistic as one of
great industries, At the age of nineteen
the two A’s won--Alsop and the Adage.
1 married him.
1 did not marry for money. I do not
think that, after five years of courtship,
] could be said to have married blindly.
I married for happiness. I liked, honored
and respected him.
Honored and respected! Dangerous
not be discussed, because the people think
they do not need it, and they will not have
it, though they all confess that we might
have a bigger one than at present. The
only thing left is an extensive training of
eivilians to constitute a reserve from
which to recruit an army needing little
training. Arms and ammunition must be
made in advance, but no one seems to
know to what amount.
The wear and tear on clothing is so
great in war as to necessitate a new out
fit every month or two, so that the means
of making it must be improvised anyhow
and the lack of the initial supply is not so
serious as the lack of trained men and
arms. The whole matter boils down to a
question of training, and nothing can be
done until public opinion demands it.
A large percentage of our population is
forelgn born, and so glad to escape the
necessity for training that they will not
consent to it until dire need forces them.
words, little lass, on the dizzy, dazzling
verge of becoming an ‘“old man's dar
ling.” Beware of them. Look forward to
the time when you are a prisoner fin
your palace of dreams, when spectral
genility besets your doors, when youth 1s
banished from your life
But there. I have told you my story.
After all, Shakespeare said it all, bluntly
and truthfully, centuries ago:
“Crabbed Age and Youth
Cannot live together.”
The problem before us then, .s rar mors
complicated than usually admitted. For
the present we must depend upon patriotic
volunteers, but there is’ no objection tc
making military drill a part of the public
gchool curriculum.
As a calisthenic and hygienic measure 1
will serve an excellent purpose. Tarz«!
shooting would be hailea with loy by evers
normal boy and would add zest for scliool
As a public health measure the professior
can safely advocate the innovation with
out treading on the toes of the extremist:
who want peace at any price—even the
price of liberty. Germans and®French
men have repeatedly asserted that thei
armies had given back to the soldier ia:
more than he had contributed to national
defense. As hygienists we should rejoice
at the prospect of developing our youth
morally, mentally and physically by mili
tary training. '
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