ried from time to time
you can always be perfectly sure that there has been a blonde in his
life.

A woman with dark hair and eyes may make men admire her, but in order to
make one of them _propose_ she must blondine her temperament down to the
roots.

The dusky Cleopatra may have succeeded in making fools of a few men, but
it took a dizzy little blonde like Helen of Troy to make a lot of men
make fools of _themselves_.

In order to be popular with men, in these days, a brunette must be
either brilliant, interesting, rich or beautiful; but a blonde doesn't
have to be anything but a _blonde_.

You may fight a brunette, dearie, as woman to woman, but when you fight
a blonde you fight a cherished masculine tradition.

Why is it that in all the novels and motion picture plays the vampires
and adventuresses have dark hair and black eyes, while the innocent,
persecuted angels are all blondes--whereas in real life it is always the
other way 'round.

Generally speaking, there are two kinds of blondes: blondes by birth and
blondes by preference. These are subdivided into golden blondes, diamond
blondes, strawberry blondes--and undecided blondes; that is, those who
have not yet decided on their favorite shade.

Sometimes illness turns a woman's hair gray, and sometimes it merely
turns it dark at the roots. A little peroxide is a treacherous thing!

All this talk about the "yellow peril" is nonsense. There is no more
danger in permitting your husband to employ a pretty blonde stenographer
than there is in throwing a lighted match into the wastebasket.

When love flies out of the window the tame cat and the sympathetic
blonde tip-toe in by opposite doors.

CYMBALS AND KETTLE-DRUMS

THIS is the great masculine question: Whether it is better to marry and
live in the constant fear of one woman's frown or to stay single and
live in deadly fear of every woman's smile.

"Conscience doth make cowards of us all"--but not until we've emptied
the bottle, tired of the flirtation and gotten our money's worth out of
the game.

Marriage--A souvenir of love.

Wanted: A wife who can broil a steak with one hand, powder her nose with
the other, rock the cradle with her foot and accompany herself on the
harp. (_Signed_) EVERYMAN.

When the girls admire him a young man takes it as a matter of course;
but when a widow selects him for her attention he thrills with the
knowledge that he is being stamped with the approval of a