Life — August 25, 1910 — page 16: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

304 “(lane The Woman's Candidate HAT kind of men would women vote for? They claim with fine scorn that they would not be influenced by their husbands. Would they choose “women’s men'’? Is there a chance that some November morning in the near fu- qure we shall wake to find ourselves with a President who is just too sweet for anything? Women have never rallied as a sex for great or good men. They marry such men merely because, despite the Shaw theory of feminine pursuit, they are wooed and won by those who select them. Girls are helpless in the actual denouements of love and courtship. Beautiful, rich and clever, they are still gathered in by the men who pick them out as wives. Lucky for the race that marriages are made in this way rather than through woman's own choice. Their taste in men is as similar as their fashions in hats. When they think the fall in love they invariably succumb to the spell of just one type of man. He is never a marrying man, although often a too-much married man, because women insist on throwing themselves at his head. Such men always travel under a spiritual banner. One of the most malignant bigamists declared on his recent way to jail that he was constancy itself! His frequent weddings had been incidental to his unswerving search for the ideal woman! COUTZZDHIS quaint defense exemplifies that abnormal ai { wiude which is the chief asset of the pretenders and cffieminate wrap-holders who have what women, if 2) questioned, would describe as cination. They have remained true to this type for ages. It 1s one of the queer psychic paradoxes; the thing that every woman knows, although she may not admit it cheerfully. Queens’ favorites of history have always been the ignoble adventurers; some of them rarely picturesque with hand on sword and rein. Among men these car- pet knights rank lower than shadows. The right sort of men are always snobs in some things. This keeps the woman's man where he belongs. Never does he by any chance approach political preferment. We have rogues in office, sometimes, and a Greek god occasionally in the President's chair, but the “tame robbins"? rarely do more than make addresses to suffragettes as to the glory there will be by land and sea when the she-eagle screams from the White House terrace. Will such men get the woman vote? Will they not choose the hen-minded Johnnies whom they now crowd around at the crun.pet crushes and bun scrambles that are held for the Cause? May that day come when we shall have a Bunthorne on the bench, and will a slap on the wrist become a substi- tute for ibs ten-dollars-or-ten-days of the modern court? Who do women admire this braceleted new-man that real men despise? Women’s love for uniforms and titles we can understand. It has some meaning. It is inspiring to think of a man dedicated to the defense of his country, bound, sworn, trained to it from boyhood, so that when a shell or a sub- marine takes him up to his eternal reward he looks on it as part of the day's work—pure shop. Even the operatic idol—the velvet-throated Bing-Binger— has that marvelous possession, a voice, and the power to use it. The actor prancing in the spotlight in velvet trappings conveys an idea of glamor and chivalry that feeds the ro- mance hungry maids and matrons of the matinee. These men in their off-stage life are terribly human. You may see Bing-Binger encompassing chops and spaghetti af the performance and Romco inhaling cigarettes at the Acto Club. Their brains as well as their bodies are masculine. If you want to see them smile, call them brutes! Not so the type of Narcissus that has crept into the ‘suf- frage movement. You come across them at the mectings lurking coyly in the shadow of a petticoat with a cup of tea in one hand and a maccaroon in the other. And in tht garb of the fat and turbaned Hindoo you also find the same old woman's man with a new label. Every day is Ladies’ Day to him, Some of the Swamis and Babas and Gooroos are undoubt- edly handsome in a big globby way, moving heavily like land seals, talking always of the High Think and the non-existence of the physical. HE amount of money these woman-charm- ers gather in as tribute from confiding females “past the first flush of youth, as a chivalrous journalist calls it, would drive some of the ordinary social frisk- ers wild with envy. And they know bow to side-step cleverly when danger threatens. T! call it “Passing into the Infinite.” Isn't it gra-a-a-acnd, Ma-a-ggie! One of these Orientals met his Waterloo at Newport a few seasons ago when he was at the top wave of his success. He gave exclusive audiences in drawing-rooms, his presence se- cured weeks in advance by a big fee. His head swathed in white, his silken robes sweeping the carpet, his dark, magnetic cyes under stained brows, and lashes doing deadly work, ke was an imposing and surely an interesting figure. His dreadful predictions made neurotic women shudder delightfully. He would hint at scandals that hit the very hearthstone on which he stood. But the day came when 3 certain unconventional lady, famed for her flirtations and slightly profane wit on occasions, got back at him in a manner that made his name a joke and cost him many dollars in can- ccled engagements. No one had warned the Baba, and he took her cool hand in his own while the silence fairly throbbed through the group of listeners. Then he had a remarkable vision I see six lovers and four corpses!” he intoned, while aa audible tremor tinkled the crystals of the chandeliers “Dear me!’ ejaculated the lively lady, “and ice £0 high!’ The smile that followed this retort forever \illed the Hindoo’s vogue in this profitable field. Nowadays, under an- other name, he lurks in some side street, telling cheap for- tunes and incidentally enchanting the dressmakers snd board ing-house keepers, who regard him as a prophet. ~ “Another of these magnetic palmists came to this country a dozen years ago with unquestionable social introductions. After a successful tour here he went to Paris and sct up