F. Colburn (Francis Colburn) Adams
Chapter 18
your bulwark against which the wave of vice is powerless; but unless
you make it something more than a magnificent theory-unless you seek
practical means, and go down into the haunts of vice, there to drag
up the neglected child, to whom the word early education is a
mystery, you leave untouched the festering volcano that vomits its
deadly embers upon the community.
Your homilies preached to pew-holders of fashion, who live
sumptuously, ride sumptuously to church of a Sunday, and meekly
enjoy a sumptuous sermon for appearance sake, will, so long as you
pass unheeded the haunts of vice, fall as chaff before the wind. You
must make "early education" more than the mere motto of future
happiness; you must go undaunted into the avenues of want and
misery, seek out the fallen child, forbear with her, and kindly
teach her how much good there is in its principles, its truths.
Pardon, generous reader, this digression, and keep our arm while we
see of what metal are the votaries at the shrine of Madame Flamingo.
"I am-that is, they say I am-something of an aristocrat, you see,
gentlemen," says the old woman, flaunting her embroidered apron, and
fussily doddling round the great centre-table, every few minutes
changing backward and forward two massive decanters and four
cut-glass goblets. We bow approvingly. Then with an air of
exultation she turns on her centre, giving a scrutinizing look at
the rich decorations of her palace, and again at us, as if anxious
to draw from us one word of approval. "Gentlemen are no way
sensitive here," pursues Madame Flamingo, moving again the great
decanters, "it's a commonwealth of gentlemen, you see. In New York-I
dash out there, you know-my house is a perfect palace. I keep a
footman and coachman there, have the most exact liveries, and keep
up an establishment equal to my Fifth Avenue neighbors, whose trade
of rope and fish is now lost in their terrible love of plush. I am a
woman of taste, you see; but, my honor for it, gentlemen, I know of
no people so given to plush and great buttons as our Fifth Avenue