the face of
Pharaoh, and dwelt in the land of Midian, and he sat down by a well."

Now when we read about the young men of the Bible hanging around a
"well" we know what is going to happen. There is romance in the air
and a love affair soon develops, for that seems to have been love's
trysting place. And I suppose he neglected no artifice of the toilet
that might enchance his personal charms, that he donned the most
costly and elegant of his Egyptian costumes, flung himself in courtly
indolence upon the sand, and waited and watched eagerly for the rich
girls to come down to the well to water their father's flocks, just as
one watches in the twilight for the first star to sparkle in the azure
overhead, for the first sunbeam of the morning or the first rose of
June.

"Now the priest of Midian had seven daughters, and they came and drew
water and filled the troughs to water their father's flock. And the
shepherds came and drove them away, but Moses stood up and helped
them, and watered their flock."

And who can blame Moses if he happened to wear his best raiment?
Everything and everybody knows, and always has known, that love loves
the beautiful; and each one according to his light takes advantage of
the fact. So the wild maiden, when love with magic finger touches her
quivering heart, stains her teeth a blacker black, hangs more beads
and shells about her dirty neck and ankles, and practices all her rude
arts of coquetry. And her savage lover, charmed with her charms,
sticks the gayest feathers in his hair, rubs a more liberal supply of
grease upon his polished, shiny skin, and makes himself brave with all
his weapons of war. So the birds only seek love's trysting place in
the springtime when their plumage is the most brilliant and their
songs the sweetest, and the fishes when their colors are the
brightest. And the woman of our day and generation, when love's arrow
"tipped with a jewel and shot from a golden string" pierces her vital
organ, wears her dress a little more decollete, bangs her hair more
bangy, clasps more diamonds round her throat, dispenses with sleeves
altogether, smiles her sweetest smile and laughs her gayest laugh. And
he, the modern man, caught in the snare, buys the shiniest stovepipe
hat and nobbiest cane, dons his gaudiest neck-tie and widest
trousers--and after all, beasts and birds and fishes, savage and
civilized, we are all alike and ruled by the same instinct and
passion, and "why should