I once knew of a young man who had a methodical mind and a large acquaintance among young women.
He used to keep their names in a book, with memoranda of their accomplishments — noting carefully which could dance well, which could embroider prettily, which make sponge-cake, which drive a horse; so that, should there be a social demand for either of these gifts, it could be supplied.
A similar variety of attainments is found in the nursery ballad about the three ships that came sailing by with a pretty maid in each
And one could whistle, and one could sing,
And one could play on the violin.
But, after all, it is often asked, What is to become of the pretty maids on some day when their fathers' ships do not come in, and they are left in poverty?
What good will their accomplishments do them?
It is pleasant to be able to answer that all these resources may, if well handled, do a great deal for them in just that emergency.