MCGORRY—"I'll buy yez no new hat, d' yez moind thot? Ye are vain enough ahlriddy."
MRS. MCGORRY—"Me vain? Oi'm not! Shure, Oi don't t'ink mesilf half as good lookin' as Oi am."
"Of course," said a suffragette lecturer, "I admit that women are vain and men are not. There are a thousand proofs that this is so. Why, the necktie of the handsomest man in the room is even now up the back of his collar." There were six men present and each of them put his hand gently behind his neck.
A New York woman of great beauty called one day upon a friend, bringing with her her eleven-year-old daughter, who gives promise of becoming as great a beauty as her mother.
It chanced that the callers were shown into a room where the friend had been receiving a milliner, and there were several beautiful hats lying about. During the conversation the little girl amused herself by examining the milliner's creations. Of the number that she tried on, she seemed particularly pleased with a large black affair which set off her light hair charmingly.
Turning to her mother, the little girl said:
"I look just like you now, Mother, don't I?"
"Sh!" cautioned the mother, with uplifted finger. "Don't be vain, dear."
That which makes the vanity of others unbearable to us is that which wounds our own.—La Rochefoucauld.
The fair penitent explained to the confessor how greatly she was grieved by an accusing conscience. She bewailed the fact that she was sadly given over to personal vanity. She added that on this very morning she had gazed into her mirror and had yielded to the temptation of thinking herself beautiful.
"Is that all, my daughter?" the priest demanded.
"Then, my daughter," the confessor bade her, "go in peace, for to be mistaken is not to sin."