My affections have been trifled with several times, "because," as they
said, "when they had drawn me to the proposing point, I was too handsome
to be good for anything as a husband--I did very well for a beau."
Goodness! is it only ugly men that can marry? I want to marry and settle
down; for I am so slighted in society that I look with envy upon homely
or mis-shapen men.
But who will have me? I put it to you, my friend, if it isn't a hard
case. I want an intelligent and agreeable wife, and one that comes of a
respectable family. I don't think I am asking too much, but it seems
fate has determined such a one I can never have! I have either to remain
single, or take one that is "ignorant and vulgar." That, of course,
would be as much remarked upon as my appearance, so it cannot be thought
of.
I want to escape observation and criticism. I think strongly of
emigrating to the Rocky Mountains, donning a rough garb, and digging for
gold, in the hope of getting round-shouldered; or hiring myself out as a
wood-chopper, in anticipation of a chip flying up and taking off part of
my obnoxious nose.
If there were no women around, I might escape notice out there. But if
one happened to come along, I should be obliged to leave, for her eyes
would ferret out my unfortunate peculiarities, and all my wounds would
be opened afresh.
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