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business of writing me down says the last one I wrote is very
melancholy reading； and that if it was only a little better perhaps
some bereaved person might pick out a line or two that would do to
put on a gravestone。
Well； that is hard； I must confess。 Do let me see those lines
which excite such sad emotions。
Will you read them very good…naturedly？ If you will； I will get
the paper that has 〃Aunt Tabitha。〃 That is the one the fault…finder
said produced such deep depression of feeling。 It was written for
the 〃Comic Department。〃 Perhaps it will make you cry； but it was n't
meant to。
I will finish my report this time with our Scheherezade's poem；
hoping thatany critic who deals with it will treat it with the
courtesy due to all a young lady's literary efforts。
AUNT TABITHA。
Whatever I do； and whatever I say；
Aunt Tabitha tells me that isn't the way；
When she was a girl （forty summers ago）
Aunt Tabitha tells me they never did so。
Dear aunt！ If I only would take her advice！
But I like my own way； and I find it so nice！
And besides； I forget half the things I am told；
But they all will come back to mewhen I am old。
If a youth passes by； it may happen； no doubt；
He may chance to look in as I chance to look out；
She would never endure an impertinent stare；
It is horrid； she says； and I mustn't sit there。
A walk in the moonlight has pleasures； I own；
But it is n't quite safe to be walking alone；
So I take a lad's arm；just for safety； you know；
But Aunt Tabitha tells me they didn't do so。
How wicked we are； and how good they were then！
They kept at arm's length those detestable men；
What an era of virtue she lived in！But stay
Were the men all such rogues in Aunt Tabitha's day？
If the men were so wicked； I'll ask my papa
How he dared to propose to my darling mamma；
Was he like the rest of them？ Goodness！ Who knows
And what shall I say if a wretch should propose ？
I am thinking if aunt knew so little of sin；
What a wonder Aunt Tabitha's aunt must have been！
And her grand…auntit scares mehow shockingly sad。
That we girls of to…day are so frightfully bad！
A martyr will save us； and nothing else can；
Let me perishto rescue some wretched young man！
Though when to the altar a victim I go；
Aunt Tabitha'll tell me she never did so！
IV
The old Master has developed one quality of late for which I am
afraid I hardly gave him credit。 He has turned out to be an
excellent listener。
I love to talk；he said；as a goose loves to swim。 Sometimes I
think it is because I am a goose。 For I never talked much at any one
time in my life without saying something or other I was sorry for。
You too！said INow that is very odd； for it is an experience I
have habitually。 I thought you were rather too much of a philosopher
to trouble yourself about such small matters as to whether you had
said just what you meant to or not； especially as you know that the
person you talk to does not remember a word of what you said the next
morning； but is thinking； it is much more likely； of what she said；
or how her new dress looked； or some other body's new dress which
madehers look as if it had been patched together from the leaves of
last November。 That's what she's probably thinking about。
She！said the Master； with a look which it would take at least
half a page to explain to the entire satisfaction of thoughtful
readers of both sexes。
I paid the respect due to that most significant monosyllable；
which； as the old Rabbi spoke it； with its targum of tone and
expression； was not to be answered flippantly； but soberly；
advisedly； and after a pause long enough for it to unfold its meaning
in the listener's mind。 For there are short single words （all the
world remembers Rachel's Helas！） which are like those Japanese toys
that look like nothing of any significance as you throw them on the
water； but which after a little time open out into various strange
and unexpected figures； and then you find that each little shred had
a complicated story to tell of itself。
…Yes；said I； at the close of this silent interval； during which the
monosyllable had been opening out its meanings；She。 When I think
of talking； it is of course with a woman。 For talking at its best
being an inspiration； it wants a corresponding divine quality of
receptiveness； and where will you find this but in woman？
The Master laughed a pleasant little laugh；not a harsh； sarcastic
one； but playful； and tempered by so kind a look that it seemed as if
every wrinkled line about his old eyes repeated； 〃God bless you；〃 as
the tracings on the walls of the Alhambra repeat a sentence of the
Koran。
I said nothing； but looked the question； What are you laughing at？
Why； I laughed because I couldn't help saying to myself that a
woman whose mind was taken up with thinking how she looked； and how
her pretty neighbor looked； wouldn't have a great deal of thought to
spare for all your fine discourse。
Come； now；said I；a man who contradicts himself in the course of
two minutes must have a screw loose in his mental machinery。 I never
feel afraid that such a thing can happen to me； though it happens
often enough when I turn a thought over suddenly； as you did that
five…cent piece the other day； that it reads differently on its two
sides。 What I meant to say is something like this。 A woman；
notwithstanding she is the best of listeners； knows her business； and
it is a woman's business to please。 I don't say that it is not her
business to vote； but I do say that a woman who does not please is a
false note in the harmonies of nature。 She may not have youth； or
beauty； or even manner； but she must have something in her voice or
expression； or both； which it makes you feel better disposed towards
your race to look at or listen to。 She knows that as well as we do；
and her first question after you have been talking your soul into her
consciousness is； Did I please？ A woman never forgets her sex。 She
would rather talk with a man than an angel； any day。
This frightful speech of mine reached the ear of our Scheherezade；
who said that it was perfectly shocking and that I deserved to be
shown up as the outlaw in one of her bandit stories。
Hush； my dear；said the Lady；you will have to bring John Milton
into your story with our friend there； if you punish everybody who
says naughty things like that。 Send the little boy up to my chamber
for Paradise Lost； if you please。 He will find it lying on my table。
The little old volume；he can't mistake it。
So the girl called That Boy round and gave him the message； I don't
know why she should give it； but she did； and the Lady helped her out
with a word or two。
The little volumeits cover protected with soft white leather from a
long kid glove； evidently suggesting the brilliant assemblies of the
days when friends and fortune smiled…came presently and the Lady
opened it。…You may read that； if you like； she said；it may show
you that our friend is to be pilloried in good company。
The Young Girl ran her eye along the passage the Lady pointed out；
blushed； laughed； and slapped the book down as though she would