A SPINSTER'S LAMENT.

Observer, Volume 7, Issue 163, 3 November 1883, Page 11

A SPINSTER'S LAMENT.

I'm a spinster lorn and lonely, Forty odd, if I'm a day ; Might have had a husband — only I neglected to make hay. In the years of youth and beauty, I was heedless, blithe, and gay ; But I forgot my bounclen duty, While the sun shone to make hay. When fond lovers raved, I rallied ; Breaking hearts to me was play ; When the sun shone, thus I dallied, So I never made my hay. Now my heyday's past and over, I am forty, fat, and grey ; But I might have lived in clover, Had I duly made mj hay. Tho women folk are bent upon making the world believe that hair is no longer worn. A short while ago, when maidens took t<a waistcoats and the other garments of men, they had their hair cut liko jockeys Now it is the fashion to stow their locks away into a high-crowned hat. No coiffure is now to be seen, and the back view of women of iashion is now peculiarly odd. Tho smarter of the French visitors in town just now all havo their hair hidden in this fashion. The crushed strawberry hues, which at the beginning of tho season met one's eye at every turn, vanished about tho time of Ascot. It seemed gone for ever, but, lo ! they are with us again. The provincial girl, who, with brothers and mothers, have taken possession of tho town, sport them on all occasions. They wear hats and frocks, and even velvet jackets in these colours, while they gape in the streets. They' wear them to go to restaurants in search of dinner boforo ono has had ono's breakfast. They wear them at the thoatre, with glovos of the same hue up to the shoulders. Yet people wonder why tho unfortunate mortals loft behind in town should feel oppressed. Of course you've heard all about the Viscoxint Garmoyle, who is going to marry Miss Finnoy, the actress (writes a London correspondent). The noble lord, who is not yet twenty-two, has developed such a strong taste for the drama that I am quite surprised to hoar that ho has consented to his future wife leaving tho stage of the Savoy Thoatre. I believe it ia not considered fairy-like to wear jewellery at tho Savoy, so that Celia Finny has been obliged to wear her betrothal ring on a piece of ribbon round her nock. I wouldn't do it. A great many people pretend to bo very much shocked at what they call the mesalliance. They don't mention a word about blue blood, for it appears tho noble lord's grandfather followed the not very dignified calling of a butler. If what I hear ia true, and I have no cause to doubt it, socioty will soon havo something moro to gossip about when it goo 3to th© moora, than tho marriage between the house of Cairns and la belle Fortescuo, for another young scion of an old house, Scotch to the backbone and royally allied, too, is about to sook a separation from his young and boautiful wife.