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Updated: May 13, 2025
The company sat in listening expectancy; and the big-waisted man, whose eyes had long ago sought refuge in the fire, lifted them and said, satirically, "Go on," at the same time trying to buy his way out with a smile. "It's your turn," quickly responded the jewel's owner, with something droll in his manner that made the company laugh at the other's expense.
Having shown another and equally unbecoming costume, selected from a recent issue by an Oxford Street firm, the lecturer asked, Why did women think small waists beautiful? Was it because big-waisted women were so frequently fat and forty, old and ugly? A young girl had no waist, and did not need stays. As the figure matured the hips developed, and it was this development which formed the waist.
The big-waisted man had retired for the night, and half an eye could see that the story-teller had captivated the whole remaining audience. He was just at the end as Marguerite re-appeared at the door. The laugh suddenly ceased, and then all rose; it was high bedtime. "And did they get married?" asked one. Three or four gathered close to hear the answer. "Who? Sidonie and Bonnyventure? Yes.
Tarbox turned about once more with his back to the fire, gave the figure a quick glance of scrutiny, then a second and longer one, and then dropped his eyes to the floor. The big-waisted man shifted his chair, tipped it back, and said: "He smiles gratefully, you say?" "Yes." "And subscribes?" "If he's got any sense," Mr. Tarbox replied in a pre-occupied tone.
'Fold, little trembler, thy fluttering wing, Freely partake of love's fathomless spring; So hallowed thy presence, the spirit within Hath whispered, "The angels protect thee from sin."" The speaker ceased, with his glance hovering caressingly over the little trembler with fluttering wing, that is, the big-waisted man.
Go back and git your shoes blacked, put on collars, button up your coats, and come up here lookin' like soldiers, not teamsters on the Tullyhomy mud march." "No," very decisively, to a big-waisted, dark-bearded man; "you can't git no permit here to open no shebang in camp or anywheres near. Too many like you out there now. We're goin' to root 'em all out soon.
"I like a diamond, myself," said the new on-looker, dropped back in his chair, and met the eyes of the pearl's owner with a heavy glance. "Tastes differ," kindly responded the wearer of the pearl. "Are you acquainted with the language of gems?" The big-waisted man gave a negative grunt, and spat bravely into the fire. "Didn't know gems could talk," he said.
The big-waisted man kindled, then smiled again, and said: "Was that emblem of modest loveliness give' to you symbolically, or did you present it to yourself?" "I took it for a debt," replied the wearer, bowing joyously. "Ah!" said the other. "Well, I s'pose it was either that or her furniture?" "Thanks, yes." There was a pause, and then the pearl's owner spoke on. "Strange fact.
A Frenchman, despite his unusual intellectual power, he was not wholly emancipated from the la petite femme tradition, which will never be outmoded in Paris while Paris hums with life, and, therefore, when he was informed that he was to take in to dinner the tall, solidly built, big-waisted, rugged-faced woman, whom he had been observing from a distance ever since he came into the drawing-room, he felt that he was being badly treated by his hostess.
"They do not talk, they speak," responded their serene interpreter. The company in general noticed that, with all his amiability of tone and manner, his mild eyes held the big-waisted man with an uncomfortable steadiness.
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