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Show Kathleen Norris Says: Why Don't Bachelors Marry? Bell Syndicate. WTTU Feature. "My present man not only dodges any serious tnlk of matrimony, but he openly exults in his skill in maintaining his independence." By KATHLEEN NORRIS ONE of the worst menaces to the happiness of women is the contented bachelor. He infuriates them and they don't seem to know what to do about him. His age range Is from about 30 to anywhere in the 60s. He is prosperous, prosper-ous, pleased with himself and just a little simple. He thinks the women wom-en who entertain him cook the food he likes and brighten into sympathy sympa-thy when he talks, the women who light cosy little fires for him and set chummy little supper tables for him are just as pleased with the situation as he is. On my desk is a letter from Mary Innes of Boston, .38 years old, a successful business woman, widowed wid-owed and the mother of a grown daughter just entering college. "I'm good-looking, well-dressed, healthy, affectionate," says Mary's most amusing letter. "I like life, I like men. And what do I get? Bachelors with mothers or sisters clinging to them, who have to telephone tele-phone home whenever they miss a meal there. Or widowers who never will forget dear Helen. But how they love the meals I manage to cook in my two-room-and-kitchen-ette apartment, how they praise the cosiness of my fireside! After a hard office day I might like a downtown down-town meal, lights and, music, a movie or show. Not Mister Widower! Wid-ower! He wants to settle into the big chair, relax and talk about himself. him-self. Knows Bachelors Well. "In my seven years of widowhood," widow-hood," the letter goes on, "I've come to know them as an absolute type. They bring occasional boxes of candy or perhaps a book. They regard this, as great thoughtfulness. 'Get your candy? Like that book?' fiey chuckle complacently. "The one I'm working on now," says Mary, apparently taking another deep breath, "is an awfully nice fellow of 44. I'd marry him tomorrow and make a comfortable home for ' him. But why should he marry, when he can have just as much of my companionship as he likes, enjoy home-cooked meals, confide to me all his plans and be sure of a good listener whenever when-ever he wants to talk? "He has two daughters, both married. mar-ried. I have one who lives in a distant dis-tant city. There is no question of further children. So all he has to do is go on this way Indefinitely, with a minimum of expense, no responsibility, re-sponsibility, no domestic quarrels or problems. "What makes me bitter," the letter let-ter ends, "is that this man, like many of them, makes it a habit to dine out with other independent women, perhaps four or five times a week. Perhaps they all have equal hopes of marriage in the future. If so, we're a pitiful lot. We have no money to take expensive vacations or join exclusive clubs and when, by chance, we do meet a fine man, he evades us in this way. My present pres-ent man not only dodges any serious seri-ous talk of matrimony, but he openly open-ly exults In his skill In maintaining his Independence. Is there any way to handle this situation a little more fairly?" Poor Mary, living in the third largest city of the eastern coast, and watching thousands of eligible men stream by her, without a single ... this Hme he had a ring. BACHELOR TROUBLE Is an eligible bachelor justified justi-fied in accepting the hospitality, hospital-ity, comfort and coziness of an unmarried woman's home without assuming some serious measure of obligation for her thoughtful graciousness? Are most bachelors so naive that they presume that a woman cooks for them, entertains them, listens attentively to them and praises them because of the inherent satisfaction she receives from each individual act? Don't men understand that companionship alone means nothing to a woman? These are some of the questions ques-tions posed to Miss Norris by Mary, a disappointed widow who is thoroughly baffled by the illogical logic which she claims most bachelors use. Mary informs Miss Norris that her current heart interest is a widower of 44. He wines and dines with other women font or five times each week and crows about his ability to avoid entering a marriage. How, Mary asks, can this situation situ-ation be handled more fairly? Miss Norris answers Mary by citing a parallel situation in which another woman was involved. She solved her problem prob-lem by simply giving notice to her emotion-less swain that she could see him no longer. It wasn't long before he was knocking at the door with a ring in his hand. real bite! But after all, she has had her day. She did have 12 happy hap-py years with a devoted husband and she has a child whose better fortunes in the matrimonial market she can watch. Men Are nard to Catch. For the hard truth is that men, after the early 30s become harder and harder to catch. They may be bold as lions in taking business chances, in tennis, poker and baseball base-ball games. In hunting or exploring. But they grow increasingly timid and shy about' getting married. The deep unknown seas of wedlock terrify ter-rify them. The young passions of the late teens and early twenties are behind them. Those years of enthusiasms en-thusiasms over the girl, the new home, the nursery and the better bet-ter job are long past. Marriage, to be sure, does offer certain attractions, but they are more than offset by Its dangers and uncertainties. If a woman has independent means and always can be perfumed and free, with an aproned maid serving dinner and a European trip in prospect, then a man may well begin to desire what he suspects he can't reach. One woman I know solved it and has been the happy possessor of a new mate for many years. She was 36 when she said to one of these honey sipping social bees, "I'm not going to see you again, John. I mean it. Don't telephone and don't come. I like you too much. I've got to I've got to get over it" Sympathetic, shocked, he consented. consent-ed. He went away. But just 19 days later he called. And this time he had a ring. |