There is no joy but calm, say the Buddhists; it’s better to be woxy than excited with rapture. (See Jujasm.)
The author is in a wox; his story has been accepted. Woxy is the actor in a good hotel at last, after three weeks of one-night stands; when he pushes the bell, something delightful is sure to happen. There can be no wox, alas, without a previous annoyance. (See Fud.) But is not all the maddening bustle and trouble of moving worth—when you are finally settled and at ease, with every carpet down and every picture hung—the homelike, comfortable wox that follows?
I ploughed my way through wind and storm
To call on Fanny White;
And in her parlor I was warm
And woxy with delight.
’Twas not because I loved her though—
For I was fairly foxy;
I’d sold her Life Insurance, so
That’s why I felt so woxy!
Wum´gush, n. 1. An insincere affectation of cordiality; hypocritical compliments. 2. Women’s flattery of women; pretended friendship. 3. A feminine fib.
Do women criticise each other to their faces? Do they find fault with their chocolates, their looks, their clothes, their jests? No, not until the front door is closed; till then, they slobber wumgush. (See Varm.)
And yet, if one man offers another a cigarette, the tobacco may be called “rotten!” without peril or anger.
Men have small use for wumgush; their compliments are profane ridicule and simulated enmity.
A man calls his best friend a “damned fool”; a woman calls her worst enemy, “My dear!” (See Alibosh.)
How women must fear each other! They smooth their rival’s hair; lovingly, they readjust her jabot and pat her hands lingeringly.