Idle Ideas in 1905 | Page 9

and size of his favourite wife, hinting

that if another can be found of the same proportions, there is room for
her. Fathers walk round among their daughters, choose the most likely
specimen, and have her fattened up. That is their brutal Eastern way.
Out West we shall be more delicate. Match-making mothers will
probably revive the old confession book. Eligible bachelors will be
invited to fill in a page: "Your favourite height in women," "Your
favourite measurement round the waist," "Do you like brunettes or
blondes?"
The choice will be left to the girls.
"I do think Henry William just too sweet for words," the maiden of the
future will murmur to herself. Gently, coyly, she will draw from him
his ideal of what a woman should be. In from six months to a year she
will burst upon him, the perfect She; height, size, weight, right to a T.
He will clasp her in his arms.
"At last," he will cry, "I have found her, the woman of my dreams."
And if he does not change his mind, and the bottles do not begin to lose
their effect, there will be every chance that they will be happy ever
afterwards.
Might not Science go even further? Why rest satisfied with making a
world of merely beautiful women? Cannot Science, while she is about
it, make them all good at the same time. I do not apologise for the
suggestion. I used to think all women beautiful and good. It is their
own papers that have disillusioned me. I used to look at this lady or at
that--shyly, when nobody seemed to be noticing me--and think how fair
she was, how stately. Now I only wonder who is her chemist.
They used to tell me, when I was a little boy, that girls were made of
sugar and spice. I know better now. I have read the recipes in the
Answers to Correspondents.
When I was quite a young man I used to sit in dark corners and listen,
with swelling heart, while people at the piano told me where little girl
babies got their wonderful eyes from, of the things they did to them in
heaven that gave them dimples. Ah me! I wish now I had never come
across those ladies' papers. I know the stuff that causes those
bewitching eyes. I know the shop where they make those dimples; I
have passed it and looked in. I thought they were produced by angels'
kisses, but there was not an angel about the place, that I could see.
Perhaps I have also been deceived as regards their goodness. Maybe all

women are not so perfect as in the popular short story they appear to be.
That is why I suggest that Science should proceed still further, and
make them all as beautiful in mind as she is now able to make them in
body. May we not live to see in the advertisement columns of the
ladies' paper of the future the portrait of a young girl sulking in a
corner--"Before taking the lotion!" The same girl dancing among her
little brothers and sisters, shedding sunlight through the home--"After
the three first bottles!" May we not have the Caudle Mixture: One
tablespoonful at bed-time guaranteed to make the lady murmur,
"Good-night, dear; hope you'll sleep well," and at once to fall asleep,
her lips parted in a smile? Maybe some specialist of the future will
advertise Mind Massage: "Warranted to remove from the most
obstinate subject all traces of hatred, envy, and malice."
And, when Science has done everything possible for women, there
might be no harm in her turning her attention to us men. Her idea at
present seems to be that we men are too beautiful, physically and
morally, to need improvement. Personally, there are one or two points
about which I should like to consult her.

WHEN IS THE BEST TIME TO BE MERRY?

There is so much I could do to improve things generally in and about
Europe, if only I had a free hand. I should not propose any great
fundamental changes. These poor people have got used to their own
ways; it would be unwise to reform them all at once. But there are
many little odds and ends that I could do for them, so many of their
mistakes I could correct for them. They do not know this. If they only
knew there was a man living in their midst willing to take them in hand
and arrange things for them, how glad they would be. But the story is
always the same. One reads it in the advertisements of the matrimonial
column:
"A lady, young, said to be good-looking"--she herself is not sure on the
point; she feels