Things I Should Like to See — 525
A fashionable bootmaker who was not “from Paris.”
A gentleman who was not a self-constituted inspector of ladies’ bonnet-linings.
A male pedestrian divorced from his cane who knew what to do with his hands.
A man who could hold an umbrella properly over a lady’s bonnet; or put on her cloak, or shawl, without crushing her bonnet, or hair; or diet himself when he was ailing; or take physic that did not “taste good;” or be good-natured when he was sick, or had cut his chin in shaving, or had to wait ten minutes for his dinner or breakfast; or who was ever “refused” by a lady.
A bachelor whose carpet did not wear out first in front of the looking-glass.
A male author who could successfully counterfeit a feminine letter.
An editor, or author, who did not feel nervous at the idea of examining trunk-linings and parcel wrappers.
A handsome child who did not grow up to be homely.
A woman who was not at heart inimical to her own sex.
A married man who could give the right hand of fellowship to a wife’s old lover; or take a hint from the toe of her slipper, under the table, before company.
A milliner who could be bribed to make a bonnet to cover the head.
A dressmaker who did not consider a “perfect fit” to consist in an armour of whalebone and a breathless squeeze.
A husband’s relatives who could speak well of his wife.
A doctor who had not more patients than he could attend to.
A washerwoman who ever lost an article of clothing.
A public speaker who did not search for the lost thread of his discourse in the convenient tumbler of water at his elbow.
A woman who would not feign to be “so fond of cigar-smoke,” rather than exile the smoker.
An old maid who was not so from choice.
Fanny Fern.