Titmouse, in his famous attempt at the reverse and more common operation.

But these wayward freaks of fashion never last long. So soon as the belle, whose beauty in spite of red hair cheated people into the belief that she was beautiful because of it, becomes passé, or out of fashion, and some sable-tressed rival succeeds to her triumphs, the old prejudice revives. The pretty names of auburn, golden, sunny are dropped, and red hair falls into such disrepute that any charity schoolboy will fly to arms if the odious epithet is applied to his pate. Men and women are unconscious of the power there is in a pretty face; they are influenced by it involuntarily. Many an ugly fashion gains ground just because pretty women will look so pretty in spite of it, that others are deluded into the belief that the fashion is itself graceful and becoming. Thus it is with red hair; some of the reigning belles of Europe having been supplied with it by nature, and making a virtue of necessity, have brought it in fashion. Let the rest of us make the most of the triumph they have won, and pray that a dark-haired empress may not ascend the throne of France till we are too gray to care what our hair was in the beginning. The ascendency we enjoy at present cannot endure forever, that is certain; for though the world may submit to the dictates of fashion for a season, she has a spite against red hair at the bottom, and will make war on it to the end of time. When eternity begins, as it seems pretty generally conceded that angels have—well, I won't offend the reader by saying red hair, but certainly something very like it, if poets and painters are to be credited - it is to be hoped that our triumph may then prove more lasting.


"Ward's patent reversible, perspiration-proof paper collar, warranted, by the chemicals used in its composition, to equal in polish the finest linen finish, and to rival in durability the best," etc., etc.

What a commentary on the age in which we live! What a catalogue of shams and vulgarities! "Fine linen finish," a sham upon raw material; "reversible," a slander on personal neatness; "perspiration-proof," an insult to friendly soap and water, the only honest means that nature has provided for making a man thoroughly "perspiration-proof." The present has often been called an age of shams, and who can question the justice of the accusation, when we see a "patent, reversible," many-sided sham, boldly asserting itself as such, and obtaining public favor through the very hollowness of its pretensions ?

Considered merely in themselves, without reference to their usual accompaniments, paper collars are comparatively small affairs, scarcely worth singling

out for special reprehension, from among the greater shams to which the age is addicted, but they are significant of much beyond themselves. They are the outward and visible signs of an inward and by no means spirituelle state of things, which is not chic, as the Parisians say. They are suggestive of a small shopkeeper, second-rate boarding-house state of society, where frowsy young ladies in pink ribbons sing sickly ballads to amorous dry-goods clerks, and ogle, at the sentimental parts, some slender swain in shining paper collar and soiled kid-gloves. They are suggestive of plated forks and printed cards of invitation; of bad cigars and cheap perfumery; of suspiciously large and showy brooches, stuck into not always the most immaculate of shirt-bosoms; and worse than all, they are suggestive of a mind to save washing-bills; of a desire to keep up the "outward and visible signs" of decency without the "inward and spiritual grace;" of a whited-sepulchre style of toilet, content to be all rottenness and corruption within, if it is beautiful enough without; of a class of men who can stay three weeks from home on a box of paper collars. Think of a man's going to spend Christmas at a country house, with his baggage in his pocket; think of his deliberately turning the soiled side of a "patent reversible perspiration-proof" in toward his skin; what liberties may we not suspect him of taking with the invisible and unmentionable parts of his toilet? Imagination shrinks from exploring farther the recesses of such a whited sepulchre.

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Paper collars are typical of a class of men, as well as a state of society. A cast-off "patent reversible perspiration-proof" gives as clear an insight into the habits and manners of the wearer, as the comparative anatomist can obtain from a tooth or a bone of any other animal. The individual distinguished by the "Professor at the Breakfast Table" as the Kohinoor is a perfect specimen of the paper-collar class, and I am as well satisfied that he wore a "patent reversible perspiration-proof," enamelled and embossed on both sides, as if the "Professor" had taken special care to inform us of the fact. The man of thorough paper-collar breeding is essentially one of the "fellers." He always has very sleek, greasy hair, carefully curled, and perfumed with cinnamon or bergamot, and is much addicted to light kid-gloves, always a little soiled. He wears a huge seal ring on his little finger, (his nails are never clean,) and a miraculous brooch, with perhaps studs to match, in his shirt-bosom. From his vest-pocket dangles a bulky chain, with a quantity of big seals, secret-society badges, etc., at one end, and possibly, a watch at the other. His coat and pants are in the latest fashion, his boots are glossy as a mirror, but who shall dare to say what is under them?

His habits vary slightly in different localities, but not enough to destroy the unity of the species. North of the Potomac, he talks through his nose, and says, "I calc'late;" farther South, he drawls his vowels, puts his knife into his mouth when he eats, and tries to talk literary on magazine stories and Miss Evans's novels. As to business pursuits, the Northern type of the genus paper-collaris is usually a merchant's clerk, or a small tradesman in

the dry-goods line; the Southern, a country beau, who puts on a clean shirt every Sunday, to go "sparking" among the girls. The species is chiefly indigenous to large commercial towns, and always flourishes best where laundresses' fees are highest. It is very widely diffused, however, and exists, with slight variations, under all vicissitudes of civilization and nationality, and individuals may readily be detected, even when the most prominent mark of the species is wanting. Circumstances may have placed certain individuals beyond the reach of paper-collar influences, but they have papercollar souls, all the same as though they carried the outward badge of the species round their necks.

There is a class below, as well as one above, paper collars—an honest, humble, hard-working class, in homespun shirts, without collars-a class perfectly free from vulgarity because perfectly free from pretension. The two extremes of society are, perhaps, the only classes entirely free from vulgarity, in the proper acceptation of the word. The one, because it pretends to nothing which it is not; the other, because it pretends to nothing at all. In Europe the peasantry are treated with more familiarity by the aristocracy than the bourgeoisie; and of all the lower strata of American society, the least vulgar, because the least assuming, are, or rather were, the negroes of the South. The ignorance and simplicity of these people kept them below pretension, and therefore above vulgarity. The idea of a respectable old "Uncle," as old "Uncles" were once, in a paper collar, is as preposterous as the thought of General Lee or Wade Hampton in the same guise. Extremes often meet, and in many respects the lowest stratum of society is less removed from the highest than are the intermediate, or paper-collar classes. The only difference between the homespun-shirt man and the paper-collar man is the difference between a good piece of stout brown wrapping-paper and the bill of a broken bank. The one is good for all it pretends to; the other is good for nothing at all.


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