THE PARADISE OF FOOLS
PART XII
I saw a poor old bachelor live all the days of his life in sight of paradise, too cowardly to put his arm around it and press it to his bosom. He shaved and primped and resolved to marry every day in the year for forty years. But when the hour for love’s duel arrived, when he stood trembling in the presence of rosy cheeks and glancing eyes, and beauty shook her curls and gave the challenge, his courage always oozed away, and he fled ingloriously from the field of honor.
Far happier than the bachelor is old Uncle Rastus in his cabin, when he holds Aunt Dinah’s hand in his and asks: “Who’s sweet?” And Dinah drops her head over on his shoulder and answers, “Bofe uv us.”
A thousand times happier is the frisky old widower with his pink bald head, his wrinkles and his rheumatism, who
Wires in and wires out,
And leaves the ladies all in doubt.
As to what is his age and what he is worth,
And whether or not he owns the earth.
He “toils not, neither does he spin,” yet Solomon in all his glory was not more popular with the ladies. He is as light-hearted as “Mary’s little lamb.” He is acquainted with every hog path in the matrimonial paradise and knows all the nearest cuts to the sanctum sanctorum of woman’s heart. But his jealousy is as cruel as the grave. Woe unto the bachelor who dares to cross his path!