I know, too, that a diplomatic feminine contingency will raise a howl of protest, and will read this aloud to men under thirty-five for the express purpose of disclaiming all complicity with such heterodox views, and doubtless will be able to make the men believe them.  Tactful girls are a necessity, and I approve of them.  I do not in the least mind their disclaiming my views to specific men, especially if I can catch their eye for one subtle moment when the men are not looking.  On this subject there is a certain delicately veiled, comprehending, soul-satisfying, mental wink going the rounds of the girls, indicating our comradeship and unanimity of thought quite as understandingly as the fraternal grip stands for fellowship among masons.  We girls have been thinking these things for a long time, and, with this declaration of independence, the shackles will fall from many a girl’s soul, because another girl has dared to speak out in meeting.

Of course, I know, too, that girls with nice brothers and cousins and husbands under thirty-five will also offer violent protest.  I am perfectly willing.  Doubtless their feminine influence has circumvented nature to such an extent that no one would suspect that their men were under thirty-five.  I only beg of them to remember that I am not discussing girl-trained men or widowers.  Both of these types are as near perfection as a man can become.

A man whom girls have trained is really modest.  Even at twenty he does not think that he knows it all.  He is willing to admit that his father and mother have brains, and that thirty years’ experience entitles them to a hearing.  He also is willing to give the girls a show, to humor them, to find them interesting as studies, but never to claim to understand them.  In short, he has many of the charming qualities of the man over thirty-five and the widower.  That is the man who is girl-trained.  But Heaven help the man who is girl-spoiled.

Far be it from me to say that the untrained man under thirty-five, at his worst, is of no use in this world.  He is excellent for a two-step.  I have used a number of them very successfully in this way.  But I know the awful thought has already pierced some people’s brains—­what if the man under thirty-five does not dance?

Sometimes an untrained man under thirty-five will actually have the audacity to say to me that he takes small pleasure in society because the girls he meets are so silly, and he must use small-talk in order to meet them on their own ground.  I am aghast at his temerity, as he, too, will be when he has heard our side of the subject.  We girls never have allowed ourselves the luxury of vindicating ourselves, or refuting this charge.  It is the clever girl who suffers most of all—­not the brilliant, meteoric girl—­but just the ordinarily clever girl, as other girls know her.  It is this sort of a girl who drags upon my sympathies, because she occupies an anomalous position.