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Show The Sorrows of the Stout Lady. When they want you to feel uncommonly uncom-monly amiable, your acquaintances look you up and down, then beam on you. and declare, "You're getting fleshier every day." Why Is this? Why should a fact of which the stout are already sorrowfully aware be continually pressed on their attention? What would be thought of the breeding of a stout person who constantly con-stantly flung their emaciation In the face of the thin? who made facetious remarks about skeletons In their presence? pres-ence? or ran his fingers over their sparsely covered ribs as small boys Jolt a stick along the pickets of a fence? The magazines of the day also permit per-mit no forgetfulness to the stout. In the advertising pages of periodicals of almost every sort, In big black letters you are exhorted, "Don't Be Fat." As If you wanted to be fat, as If anyone sat down and deliberately got fat! You see yourself I am talking to the stout caricatured in that ponderous lady wearing an extremely decollete gown who comes wobbling toward you like the car of Juggernaut (I see she has taken to sitting down lately, and It's no wonder),' or you are reflected In that misguided female who affects a plaid skirt, cut on the bias, of all things! Nina R. Allen In the Reader Magazine. |