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Mrs. A. And Mrs. B.; or, What She Thinks About It
by [?]

In the same manner Mrs. A., B., and C., and the good matrons through the alphabet generally, with doleful lamentations, each one consents to the thing that she allows not, and the affair proceeds swimmingly to the great satisfaction of the juveniles.

Now and then, it is true, some individual sort of body, who might be designated by the angular and decided letters K or L, says to her son or daughter, “No. I don’t approve of the thing,” and is deaf to the oft-urged, “Mrs. A., B., and C. do so.”

“I have nothing to do with Mrs. A., B., and C.’s arrangements,” says this impracticable Mrs. K. or L. “I only know what is best for my children, and they shall not go.”

Again: Mrs. G. is going to give a party; and, now, shall she give wine, or not? Mrs. G. has heard an abundance of temperance speeches and appeals, heard the duties of ladies in the matter of sanctioning temperance movements aptly set forth, but “none of these things move her half so much as another consideration.” She has heard that Mrs. D. introduced wine into her last soiree. Mrs. D’s husband has been a leading orator of the temperance society, and Mrs. D. is no less a leading member in the circles of fashion. Now, Mrs. G.’s soul is in great perplexity. If she only could be sure that the report about Mrs. D. is authentic, why, then, of course the thing is settled; regret it as much as she may, she cannot get through her party without the wine; and so at last come the party and the wine. Mrs. D., who was incorrectly stated to have had the article at her last soiree, has it at her next one, and quotes discreet Mrs. G. as her precedent. Mrs. P. is greatly scandalized at this, because Mrs. G. is a member of the church, and Mr. D. a leading temperance orator; but since they will do it, it is not for her to be nice, and so she follows the fashion.

Mrs. N. comes home from church on Sunday, rolling up her eyes with various appearances of horror and surprise.

“Well! I am going to give up trying to restrain my girls from dressing extravagantly; it’s of no use trying!–no use in the world.”

“Why, mother, what’s the matter?” exclaimed the girls aforesaid, delighted to hear such encouraging declarations.

“Why, didn’t you see Mrs. K.’s daughters sitting in the pew before us with feathers in their bonnets? If Mrs. K. is coming out in this way, I shall give up. I shan’t try any longer. I am going to get just what I want, and dress as much as I’ve a mind to. Girls, you may get those visites that you were looking at at Mr. B.’s store last week!”

The next Sunday, Mrs. K.’s girls in turn begin:–

“There, mamma, you are always lecturing us about economy, and all that, and wanting us to wear our old mantillas another winter, and there are Mrs. N.’s girls shining out in new visites.”

Mamma looks sensible and judicious, and tells the girls they ought not to see what people are wearing in church on Sundays; but it becomes evident, before the week is through, that she has not forgotten the observation. She is anxiously pricing visites, and looking thoughtful as one on the eve of an important determination; and the next Sunday the girls appear in full splendor, with new visites, to the increasing horror of Mrs. N.

So goes the shuttlecock back and forward, kept up on both sides by most judicious hands.

In like manner, at a modern party, a circle of matrons sit in edifying conclave, and lament the degeneracy of the age.

“These parties that begin at nine o’clock and end at two or three in the morning are shameful things,” says fat Mrs. Q., complacently fanning herself. (N. B. Mrs. Q. is plotting to have one the very next week, and has come just to see the fashions.)