Tell me where a man goes, and I will tell you what he is. If he is fast, he will cultivate fast habits, live a rapid life, and earn that character very early. If these are the traits you are looking for, “inquire within” and you will find them. It may be a woman you are asking about, a girl for a wife, a life-long companion. Which are you seeking for? A dashy, fly-away dancer, or a domestic home-lover, and one whom you can trust with your keys, your secrets, your conscience? Look to her character. In either case, the man or woman has lived somewhere. Find out about it,--how long, how well, how faithfully. A well-to-do widow, was crazy to marry a man that she fancied, and who actually refused to give more than his name and hotel, and no references. On careful inquiry such a person was known by no less than two to four names,--changed to suit circumstances. The spell was broken, the match ended. Men and women often rush into matrimony as game is run into a trap, for the little tempting bait set to catch them (a catch-as-catch-can race). They marry and risk a life-long happiness on less actual information of each other’s real nature than a good horseman would exact of his carriage horse’s pedigree. This may do in the country, but never will answer in a city. Sense and reason dictate that men and women, to enjoy each other’s society, should see well to the match beforehand. A fine hand, a small foot, a becoming hat, a twist of the head, a simper, or a half-witty saying will do well in their places; but colors must _wash_ and _wear_ to stand a lifetime. _Don’t marry a clown._ A silly fellow that jokes on every subject never did amount to anything, and never will. All he says may be very funny, very; but how many times can he be funny? Fun will grow stale and threadbare; one cannot live by it. Life is a trip that costs car fare, wash bills, board bills, trinkets, notions, and actual outlays. Real providers are never clowns; the clownish fellow is a favorite in school-days. He is so cute, just as cute as a cotton hat, so cunning, so witty, so nice. Is he? Wait a few years, until his nice nonsense turns to active business! _Don’t marry a dude._ Of all milk-and-water specimens, a dude is the lowest,--a little removed from nothing; a dressed-up model for a tailor-shop (sometimes it’s in woman form); a street flirt, a hotel-step gazer, an eye-glass ogler, a street strut; one who finds his enjoyment in the looking-glass--a masher. Very many are called, but few are chosen. The many that are called are ridiculed. The time will come when a tailor’s suit and a fancy outfit will no more make one respectable than it would make a gentleman of a wooden Indian in front of a cigar-stand.