Democratic Sentinel, Volume 6, Number 20, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 16 June 1882 — Defending the Sex. [ARTICLE]

Defending the Sex.

Clara Belle, in her last letter to the Cincinnati Enquirer, says “there seems to be a vast difference, to men’s eyes, between the tweedle-dee of an out?r dress and the tweedle-dum of underclothing. I can’t understand why, but it is so. Nine men out of ten will rush wildly to a window to see a woman in flowing white across the way and turn away disappointed when they find that the snowy garment is a wrapper instead of a chemise.” We rally to the defense of our sex. We scorn Clara Belle or anyone who believes the above statement. An equally false and wicked notion prevails relative to bald-headed men who go to the ballet and sit next to the musicians, within seven feet of the stage. The cruel charge that bajd-headed men sit on the front row of seats at this class of literary exercises from any wrong motive, has done an incalculable amount of harm. It has hurt our own feelings many times and caused the ready tear to unbidden. start. It has cast a gloom over our whole lives and embittered the cup of our joy many times.

Bald-headed men are dealt with unjustly in this matter. So far as we are concerned we are free to say that we sit on the front row so that we can hear the soft low notes of the bass viol. We are madly, passionately fond of the musical throbs of the large fiddle, and shall we be hooted and jeered on the public streets for this cause? Shall we be named mockingly by the mob because we yearn for the glad snort of the bass tuba and the mellow notes of the triangle? We hope not Clara Belle is a'little too harsh and too anterior. She writes sarcastically and does not regard the feelings of those she thus cruelly stabs. We should never speak disrespectfully of the bald-headed. We do not know how soon we may be bald-headed ourselves. There is a case in history somewhere, although we have not the leisure at {iresent to turn to it, where some hoodurns had a whole menagerie turned loose on them for speaking lightly of a bald-headed gentleman. Wo should learn from this never to attack the man who parts his hair with a towel, for in an unguarded moment he may climb us with a lawn mower and knock us beyond the purple hills.— Nye'e Boomerang. “Fbulow citizens,” said a Western murderer to the crowd around the gallows, ** this is the saddest moment of my life. It isn’t that I mind being jerked out of Dakota at the end of a rope, but I am sorry to think I shall never see any of you again. I feel I’ve got a through ticket straight up into Abraham’s bosom. "—Brooklyn Eagle.