But not too good, for the good die young,
And we want no dead ones.
And here's to the good old ladies,
But not too old, for we want no dyed ones.
When a woman repulses, beware. When a woman beckons, bewarer.—Henriette Corkland.
The young woman had spent a busy day.
She had browbeaten fourteen salespeople, bullyragged a floor-walker, argued victoriously with a milliner, laid down the law to a modiste, nipped in the bud a taxi chauffeur's attempt to overcharge her, made a street car conductor stop the car in the middle of a block for her, discharged her maid and engaged another, and otherwise refused to allow herself to be imposed upon.
Yet she did not smile that evening when a young man begged: