Autobiography of a Pocket-HandkerchiefCooper, James Fenimore
General
Autobiography of a Pocket-Handkerchief
Cooper, James Fenimore
Fables; Handkerchiefs -- Fiction
"I do really wish one could see a little advance in the way of real
refinement and true elegance among all the vast improvements we are
making in frippery and follies," cried Mr. Monson, throwing down an
evening paper in a pettish manner, that sufficiently denoted
discontent. "We are always puffing our own progress in America, without
exactly knowing whether a good deal of the road is not to be traveled
over again, by way of undoing much that we have done. Here, now, is a
specimen of our march in folly, in an advertisement of Bobbinett's, who
has pocket-handkerchiefs at $75."
"By the dozen, or by the gross, sir?" demanded Betts Shoreham, quickly.
"Oh, singly--seventy-five dollars each."
"Nay, that MUST be a mistake, sir! who, even in this extravagant and
reckless country, could be found to pay such a price? One can fancy
such a thing in a princess, with hundreds of thousands of income, but
scarcely of any one else. How could such a thing be USED, for instance?"
"Oh," cried John Monson, "to hide the blushes of the simpleton who had
thrown away her money on it. I heard a story this very afternoon, of
some person of the name of Halfacre's having failed yesterday, and
whose daughter purchased even a higher priced handkerchief than that
the very same day."
"His failure is not surprising, then," put in Betts Shoreham. "For
myself, I do not think that I----"
"Well, WHAT do you think, Mr. Shoreham?" asked Mrs. Monson, smiling,
for she saw that Julia was too much mortified to speak, and who assumed
more than half the blame of her own daughter's extravagance. "You were
about to favor us with some magnificent resolution."
"I was about to utter an impertinence, I confess, ma'am, but
recollected in time, that young men's protestations of what THEY would
do by way of reforming the world, is not of half the importance to
others that they so often fancy; so I shall spare you the infliction.
Seventy-five dollars, Mademoiselle Hennequin, would be a high price for
such a thing, even in Paris, I fancy."
The answer was given in imperfect English, a circumstance that rendered
the sweet round tones of the speaker very agreeable to the ear, and
lent the charm of piquancy to what she said. I could not distinguish
countenances from the drawer, but I fancied young Shoreham to be a
handsome youth, the governess to be pale and slightly ugly, though very
agreeable in manner, and Julia excessively embarrassed, but determined
to defend her purchase, should it become necessary.
"Seventy-five dollars sound like a high price, monsieur," answered
Mademoiselle Hennequin; "but the ladies of Paris do not grudge their
gold for ornaments to decorate their persons."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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