my noble husband has just delivered himself of the following speech:
“there you are! up again at midnight! another dream, i suppose! well, this is becoming quite a serious matter! you will forget your dreams if you don’t write them down at once! indeed! these are woman’s rights times with a vengeance, and no mistake, when i cannot rest in my bed at night without being disturbed by my wife in this manner!
“now i will give you a little of my mind: you are a dreamer, and nothing but a dreamer, and henceforth you may rise fifty times in the night, or you may sit up all night to write your dreams if you choose; but you shall not do it at my cost. i believe in individual sovereignty. you shall go to some other room.”
“all right, all right, my dear, amiable husband,” i replied, with a good-natured laugh, at the same time taking up my paper, pen and ink, putting out the gas and quietly making my way to the sitting-room. so here i am, all alone. henceforth if i should have any more need to write in the night here i will come at once; my dear, good, abused husband rest in peace!
but i must relate my dream in which i again found myself in the before-mentioned city, and in a gentleman’s dressing-room. before a large mirror, which appeared to be let into the walls, and which reached from the top of the room to the floor, stood a little gentleman in his long night-dress, his hair full of curl-papers, for the quantity of paper greatly exceeded that of the hair. as i was noting the beautiful needlework that profusely trimmed his night-dress, and which, i perceived, had been done by his own delicate fingers, like the strange incongruity of dreams, there began to move into the room, one after another, a great number of gentlemen in their long night-dresses and abundant curl-papers. as i stood on one side, i found that they were entering a large assembly dressing-room, as large as the reception-room of the white house. i observed, too, that on every side and down the centre of this room were arranged, side by side, all necessary articles for a gentlemen’s dressing-room, as if the contents of a few score of small ones such as i had just seen had been consolidated and rearranged with reference to the maximum of convenience and minimum of labor. what elegant nightdresses, i said to myself as they passed! and yet, though i admired them in the abstract, i felt something, i am sorry to say, akin to contempt for these gentlemen whose forms they covered.
one fat gentleman so loaded down with avoirdupoise as to suggest by his breathing a little steam engine, the wonder of my childhood days, named, “puffing billy,” came waddling along in a night-gown having four ruffles round the lower portion and tucks innumerable. he had very little hair. i then confidently believe that in half an hour every hair on his little head could have been counted!
each gentleman as he passed me, and seemed to be in his accustomed place, carried in his hand a pair of corsets and a long, black something that looked to me very like a horsetail. the corsets i could comprehend; but what were they going to do with these horses’ tails? then another puzzling feature of this strange scene was that where they did not carry these appendages they carried an armful of tow, or sheep’s wool, or what looked to me very like these substances.
by-and-by all seemed to have entered; for the doors were closed and those night-gowned gentlemen, attended by young men whom they called their servant boys, or dressing boys, prepared to dress.
there was something in the countenances of these gentlemen that impressed me very disagreeably. almost invariably their skin was spotted with yellow, and, as a whole, looked dark, dried and unnaturally shrivelled. two exceptions to this rule were so grateful to my love of the beautiful that i lingered round about these two gentlemen some time. these two i had observed on entering the room, as they carried no corsets in their hands; and the diameter of their waists suggested the idea that they would form models for the men of that world as excellent as the venus de medici does for the women of this world.
but what a scene that dressing-room! what a medley! what confusion of odors as the dressing progressed – of perfumes, grease, pomatum, powders, rouge, hair dye, and i know not what other substances for cleanliness and hygiene!
a servant boy whom i had seen standing at the head of the room with a something in his hand – i had not observed what – here sounded a gong, and in an instant the hair dressing commenced. then i perceived for what were designed the supposed horses’ tails, also the tow, sheep’s wool and several other strange, dark masses which had seemed wholly inappropriate, for anything connected with the toilet; for lo, all these were mounted on the tops and backs of their little heads, making them look as if they had exchanged their own heads for those of horses, minus the dignity usually appertaining to those animals. oh, sad sight! said i to myself; oh, terrible result of man’s degradation!
this gear on the head and its adjustment consumed considerable time, and as it progressed i felt a strange, stilled sensation, caused, i presume, by the numerous odors of that assembly dressing-room.
then twelve men entered the room carrying before them on waiters a number of small white cups, some containing white, others red or pink powder; also, several small, broad silvered knives and sundry tiny brushes. “ah, here comes the porcelainists! here are the porcelainists!” i heard several voices exclaim with a pleased flutter, as with small brushes they were painting their eyebrows.
simultaneously as they entered twelve gentlemen took seats together in the centre of the room – twelve blotched, wrinkled, yellow faces! i looked at them, then at the twelve porcelainists, and then at the cups, into which was being poured some liquid from a bottle. what can be the meaning of all this? i asked myself in astonishment; but the mystery was soon explained: for like magic the small knives in the hands of the porcelainists transferred the contents of the cups to the faces of the twelve gentlemen sitting in a row. over the forehead and cheeks, over and round about the nose and close to the corner of the mouth went the knives, covering up ugliness instanter. in ten minutes the twelve faces reminded me of the little porcelain dolls sold in our stores.
“you must not laugh, or romp, dear gentlemen,” said one of the operators; “you will mar your faces; guard against all emotions, as well, as against any other agency causing sudden and extreme movements of the features; for by allowing such movements or emotions you would cause the porcelain to crack and spoil it completely. don’t move, please, for a few minutes; it takes a little time for the porcelain, after being laid on the face, to dry thoroughly.” very obediently the twelve faces kept exactly in one position. during the operation quite a circle of half-dressed gentlemen had gathered round.
“beautiful! beautiful!” i heard them exclaim; “sweet! pretty!” said one; “delightful!” said another; but i thought contemptuously: “i would like to suspend you twelve between heaven and earth as a spectacle to gods, to angels and to men!”
one of these beautiful (!) twelve, who evidently was suffering from a bad cold, here began to sneeze. dear, dear! how he did sneeze! and as he sneezed the porcelain began to crack in several places, and small pieces fell to the floor. oh, hideous sight!
but hark! the gong sounds again. (how i do hate a gong), and then a hundred corsets, embracing as many gentlemen’s bodies (including the elect twelve, who were prudently conserving their new faces) were subjected to superlative pressure. tight, tighter and yet tighter were they compressed until not only the faces of the attendant servant boys, but those of the gentlemen being laced were red with the effort. as the lacing progressed the respiration became more difficult.
but what next? the gong sounds again! “dressing the feet!” why, the man calls out this as he might the figures of a dance! [what absurdity there is in dream!]
then i thought i was greatly puzzled while i wondered i had not previously observed that some of these gentlemen wore on their feet what (for want of a better name) i shall call a foot-vice. this was a curious apparatus, with straps and buckles, worn on the feet during the night for the purpose of moulding the foot into a rounded form. this result had, in a few instances, been so completely obtained that the sides of the foot were rounded over and almost met on the under part of the foot. of course those who had servant boys required them when dressing their feet; and when the foot-vice had been used two servant boys were brought into requisition, one of whom kept the foot in its rolled condition while the other commenced to introduce the foot into the gaiter. this was a difficult feat, for it required a long time and several trials before completion.
but i am weary: perhaps sleepy; so i shall not attempt to describe the numerous divisions of the toilet indicated by that terrible gong; the putting on of “grecian bends” was one. may i never see such a sight again! no wonder that when dressed their coat tails projected at an angle of forty-five degrees!
never shall i forget when the gong sounded for the false teeth to be introduced into the mouth; for it seemed in my dream that there came to me at the same moment the power to see and examine the internal organs of every gentleman present. in all who wore corsets (and there were only two gentlemen who did not), i saw that the five lower ribs were contracted, and in some cases overlapped; that the air-cells in the lower part of the lungs were rendered inactive by compression, and that in consequence of the sympathy existing between all organs of the body, there was very observable either positive indications of disease or great weakness. one young gentleman, who had been originally healthy, i perceived was paralyzed in his right arm, and very shortly would be paralyzed on one side of the body from the use of the foot-vice; and that the waist, though originally of proper circumference, was gradually approaching that of the wasp.
then, as previously in a former dream, i looked into the spirit, saw the links connecting the body with the spirit, and as by a glance was enabled to go back in time by means of these links through several generations of ancestors. carefully and accurately past ancestral endowment – physical, moral and mental – were compared with those before me, especially were the co-relations of parts observed, and i perceived that it had come to be a fact, indeed, that those gentlemen, at least, were inferior to woman.
oh, saddening realization! oh, poor, silly butterfly men! verily in this land man is inferior to woman!
thus was i sadly meditating when the scene changed and i found myself in the home of mrs. christiana thistlewaite, with mr. johnny smith and mr. sammy smiley as her guests.
“dear friend,” she said, taking my hand, “i am very glad to see you; do you know that i am a convert to man’s rights?”
“you!” i exclaimed, with great astonishment.
“yes, i am convinced that the demands of the man’s rights society are founded in nature.”
“but how has this come to pass?” i inquired.
“i will tell you, dear friend,” she replied, as she took a chair near me, still retaining my hand in her own. “you remember the sheepman yellow-green protest; also the delirium protest?”
“certainly.”
“very well; i read them over carefully, and was dissatisfied. i saw that they would not bear the light of day for an instant, then i tried to find better reasons for denying to men their claimed rights. i gave my best thoughts and attention to the subject, and to make a long story short, as the result of that thought, here i am a thorough believer in man’s rights. so you see the sheepman yellow-green protest and delirium protest have done more good, in one case, at least, than the silly men who penned it ever conceived.”
i commenced to express my delight at the change in her sentiments, when she remarked: “but you are very sad, my friend; you show it in every lineament of your face.” then i thought in my dream that i related all i had witnessed in the assembly dressing room, dwelling very minutely on the peculiar and diversified ancestral endowments handed down from generation to generation, and the culture of expression these had received in each, and finally the conclusions forced upon me of the real inferiority of man to woman.
“don’t be cast down, dear friend,” replied christiana thistlewaite; “you have only chanced to meet some of the worst specimens of our men. this class of men does not represent more than one-fiftieth of the male sex. you must know that this is a large country, composed of many races, some inferior, but many superior. these you have visited are only one race, and a very small race – the fashionable race; and i am glad, truly glad, of their foot-vices, their waist-vices, their cosmetics, paints, powders and porcelain, for they all form such powerful brain-vices and life-annihiliators that in less than a century every one of their descendants will be swept from the face of our planet. inferior races must give place to superior; and i thank our father for this beautiful law.” as she finished, she led me into a large, handsome room in which were gathered probably two hundred persons of both sexes. “now use your ‘soul-gift,’ dear friend,” she said, “and tell me of this race of men and women.” i did so. i comprehended the capacities of each brain, of each spirit, and then walked down the aisles of time for many generations of ancestors; divined the physical, mental and spiritual heritage that had passed from generation to generation with the added culture or repression of such heritage, and contrasted these results in the male sex with the results obtained by the same means in the female sex; and as i followed from cause to effect, from added growth to added growth, there came to my own spirit a blessed peace. here was no inferiority, no retrogression; but in characters ineffaceable were written, for both man and woman, possibilities and capabilities as far transcending the present as those of the present transcended those of the long ago, even a million of ages.
