That, though the hairs of my head be numbered, they are still sufficient to cover my bald spot.
That, though my forehead gradually becometh more intellectual, it is not yet bare.
That I have never yet written a letter which could be held against me in a breach-of-promise suit, but have confined all my tender messages unto telegrams and postcards.
That all my words have been discreet and mine actions cautious and self-restrained.
That, although maidens may bestow upon me purple neckties, spotted scarfs, plaid mufflers and orange-colored gloves at Christmastide, I shall not be required to wear them.
That I am still regarded as eligible among maidens and matrons. That they have not found me out!
That, day by day, my heart is acquiring a coat of cement and my conscience a coat of mail.
That I have carefully preserved all my emotions in alcohol!
That there is no marrying nor giving in marriage in Heaven!
Yea, for good cigars, bachelor flats, vaudeville, briar pipes, clubs, apartment hotels, stenographers, comic operas, taxicabs and widows, Good Lord I thank Thee!