The Seattle Post Intelligencer

PICKING A HUSBAND.

Advantages and Disadvantages of Various Professions.

Noted men's wives' opinions.

Interview: With Mrs. Jim Corbett, Mrs. Gilroy, Mrs. Henry Clews.

"It is certainly time to think of settling down in life, and I suppose I ought to decide about my husband's profession."

Such is the reflection of the summer girl who is about to flutter into winter society. "What a nuisance! But I must decide. Let me see—a banker—bound to be rich when I marry him, but not sure enough to escape those awful crashes. A lawyer? He has to keep things from his clients, and he'd learn to fib to me. That will never do. A doctor? Knows a lot, but he would have too many pretty patients, and I'd never be sure why he stayed out so late. No, indeed. A minister? Well, he could never grow sporty, but then I couldn't have fun either. I shan't be a minister's wife. A broker? More money than the others, but I don't enjoy bulls and bears vamping around. A politician—oh dear! I can never decide in the world. I'll be an old maid before I make up my mind."

The summer girl will find an answer to her questions here. And she may rely upon the advice, as it is given from the actual experience of wives whose husbands are at the top of their professions.

THE PRIZEFIGHTER'S WIFE.

Mrs. Corbett, flushed with the triumph of her husband's new supremacy, was charmingly acquiescent when I asked her to tell me what it means to be the wife of the world's champion heavyweight. "I will tell you anything you wish, but it is all so new to me that I scarcely know what to say. Perhaps you think I ought to be frightfully nervous after the tension of the big fight, but I'm not. Of course I'm awful glad he won, too. I'm not much surprised. You see I was so confident all along; and I felt it in my bones that science must win in the end."

The public was not with you there?

"Oh, I know that Sullivan had been the champion for so long. I believed in my husband, though. At first when he decided to enter the profession I couldn't bear the thought. It isn't a bit respectable, I suppose, but today " and here Mrs. Corbett looked at me with a determined seriousness, "Jim wouldn't change places with the president. That means I wouldn't change places with the president's wife."

And Mrs. Corbett's seriousness vanished as she lifted her blonde head and opened her blue eyes with a laughing challenge.

Surely, I was receiving more convincing than words of the advantage that might lie in being the wife of a pugilist, and yet, in a moment of yielding confidence Mrs. Corbett gave to me another argument.

"Here," she said, "is a telegram from my husband. I've only had forty or fifty today, but isn't this one just too lovely?"

This is what I read upon the yellow sheet:

"I shall never forget you, darling. I love you with all my heart.

Jim."

"That makes me want to see him so I can scarcely wait. But aren't you afraid to be loved and kissed by such a great, strong man?" I asked, impertinently, but smilingly.

Mrs. Corbett, it is evident, cannot see the ludicrous side of a serious matter, for she responded without a single amusement.

"Oh, no; I am not afraid of Jim, he is so good natured. I never met a better tempered man. Going on the stage will be pleasant, don't you think."

"If you like that best. Why don't you make him give up " Here I paused helplessly, for "slugging" was the only word in the vocabulary of the gentleman of gloves which was at my command just then, and that I wouldn't use in my conversation with the triumphant wife beside me.

"Give up engaging in matches," was Mrs. Corbett's euphonious completion of my suspended question. "It would be too cruel. Say, Jim is a born boxer, and now that he beat the head of his profession he can beat anybody in the world. I shan't worry a bit about him. And he looks so handsome, and he makes such an imposing figure as he walks down the street, that I don't care much what he does. Maybe I am glad that he is going to act now because actors are received in better society than boxers." This reflectively and with due consideration.

"Mrs. Corbett, the disadvantages of being the wife of a man who engages in matches won't form a very satisfactory article. Can't you mention something distinctively and concrete that the public will remember?" "No, I can't do it. Jim is as good as gold, and a wonderful success. Anything else doesn't matter to me. Have I told you all you want to know?"

THE POLITICIAN'S WIFE.

The wife of a leader whose word is weighty in the secret conclaves of New York's municipal government must be, first of all, discreet. Therefore, it would not be strange if her requirements should be at variance with her nature, nor unnatural if her instincts sometimes topped her training. But Mrs. Gilroy, whose husband is a commissioner of public works, and (what is much more) an influential member of Tammany Hall, met me with cordial contentment in her manner and a hint of discreet reserve beneath it.

She had weighed the matter and had long since reached conclusions concerning the lot of a politician's wife; yet she would not consider pros and cons without a definite understanding as to detriment resulting or benefit accruing thereto.

"Well, I scarcely know what I had best tell you. Of course there are advantages and disadvantages in being the wife of a politician. For one thing, his calls take him away from home a great deal. And his worry with the blame he receives from all sorts of unreasonable people makes it necessary that home should be bright, cheerful and unbusinesslike. Perhaps some politicians are irritable, but Mr. Gilroy is a great home lover, and his annoyances disappear when he greets us all at night. I remember once, though, that he asked me to pray that it would rain. He said he was tired of being blamed when the water supply was deficient. I don't interfere with my husband's business of a politician. The wife must be identical with him. If not, the two will carry on one continual campaign at home. Now I find the wear and tear of the ordinary canvass quite enough. It's too hard to be long protracted. The life of a business man is much easier, and, perhaps, brains and brilliancy receive a greater reward in business than they do in politics. Often in the latter something unexpected and very fortunate happens, but it isn't steady dependence, you may be sure, but I know all his secrets." and Mrs. Gilroy looked Sphinx-like. "Do you consider it an advantage or otherwise to be forced to keep them?"

"It is really not so difficult, because my husband and I are very intimate friends. I am biased, too, when he goes into anything heart and soul. The only course is for me to follow. Then you don't meet the danger of growing apart in your interests and ambitions."

"Do you think a woman should possess convictions which she may poll at election time?"

"No, I don't; that is, the convictions. It is uncertain, exciting, interesting from one point of view: it is disappointing, wearing, monotonous from a different standpoint." Now a lay woman cannot find a balance between such close antitheses, so I will imitate the politicians and leave the discussion to a wavering issue.

THE BANKER'S WIFE.

Mrs. Henry Clews says: "A banker has numerous disadvantages and some advantages. He loves his business too deeply. He would rather supervise a great financial transaction than go to a reception or a concert or an opera or ball. He would rather be on the right side of the market than eat a good dinner or travel in Europe. He would rather make a successful investment than spend a summer at Saratoga or a winter at St. Augustine. Now, you can see how the tastes of a banker's wife differ from those of her husband. My experience has been vast and varied.

When the market is excited you can expect your banker or broker husband to be irritable. When it is dull and too steady you can expect the same thing. When things are lively and booming the right way then the household thermometer is generally at a most comfortable point. I do not know as I would care to have my husband in any other business. When a man has his heart and soul in a profession or calling it is the duty of the wife to aid and encourage her husband, and as a rule she becomes as much interested in the tedious and at times long-drawn-out details of a financial attraction as her husband. She hopes with him and she advises, she urges and she holds in check. In fact, she is happy when her husband confers with her and happiest when her advice proves successful.

Take it all in all, and a banker's wife is a good deal of a banker herself, and why should she not think the advantages far surpass the disadvantages?'"