I wooed and won Josephine in those early, transitory days when the
influence of the past was still upon us, though we foresaw and caught
glimpses of the new. We were simple souls. I believe that Josephine's
wagon was hitched to a star; else I could not have loved her. And she
believed the same of mine. She wandered in the panoply of her maiden
independence to far-off rookeries attended by me only (or some other
swain only). Though we were fain to discuss De Musset and Herbert
Spencer, Darwin and Dobson, George Eliot and Philip Gilbert
Hamerton--strange names to the elder generation--our scheme of life was
still essentially grave and plain for all Josephine's Japanese sunshade
and tendency to make the most of her willowy figure. Little did we
dream of the later development which, like a huge wave, was to sweep
over the land of the free and the home of the brave, overwhelming its
native simplicity with the virtues, tastes, and vices of the other
nations against which our forefathers barred the door. Palaces in all
but the name stand where the buffalo was wont to disport himself, and
where the American eagle in human form once flapped his wings and
screamed most viciously in contempt of the effete civilization of the
older world. Sons and daughters of the pioneers who bolted their
dinners on the stroke of twelve find seven too early for elegant
convenience. Among the reddest and palest of hot-house roses, which
deck their tables, glisten glass of Venetian pattern and china from the
bankrupt stock of kings. According to their intellectualities their
talk is of labor and capital, of working-girls' clubs and model
tenement-houses, of Buddha and Zola, of foreign titles, and
transplanted fox-hunting. To-day a hundred thousand dollars is barely
a competency, and a building less than a dozen stories high dwarfs the
highway of trade. The vestibule limited, the ocean grey-hound, the
Atlantic cable, and the voice-bearing telephone have made all nations
kin, and bid fair to amalgamate society. Even the newly created
species condescends to swap her birthright for a coronet.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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