Adviseress

AMANDA THE ADVISERESS. Now, Amanda was the sweetest, smartest, briskest little creature alive. […] “You are so sensible, dearest Amanda,” said her kind aunt, as they gazed from the Finchley Road window, “that you really might set up an office for giving good advice.” “An excellent idea, my dear aunt and protector,” said Amanda, who was economically sewing on half a silver clock. So dear Amanda advertised, “Good advice given. One shilling for five minutes of the finest that can be had in the town.” Amanda opened an office.

A woman’s business and professional directory is shortly to be published in Boston, and for the first time will be clearly shown what progress has been made by the fair sex in encroaching in the industrial domain, which formerly was monopolized by men. Among the articles that women in Boston are engaged in making are galvanized cutlery, artificial flowers, false teeth, bungs and cotton gins. Women are also druggists, dentists, harness-makers, insurance agents, decorators, sculptors, and, of course, lawyers and physicians. One woman in Boston is a “supervisor of funerals,” another is a business “adviseress,” another is a printer and publisher, and still another an optician.

Mrs. Lidia Hunt, the district superintendent of the cradle roll department, visited the Hyde Park A. M. E. Sunday school and organized a missionary and a cradle roll club or society. Mrs. Stella Davidson was made chief adviseress of the cradle roll department, and Mrs. Robert Hendrickson chief adviseress of the missionary society.

Weakly Advice. / The adviseress found the following letter in the contribution box this week: “Dear Misadviser:—Ples cant you spare a minit of your preshus time? I kneed som advice so bad. […] “Please advise me soon bee-cause I am in a awful suspense. One of yours as well as one of Wilsun’s / “ADMIRERS.” / (Reply.) My Dear Admirer:— […] Kindly follow these directions and you will find that you have not applied in vain to / THE MISADVISERESS.

Set Speeches at Durham High / I. Nancy wants the support of every member of the student body. The faculty will be here, I am sure. (Mr. Warren, in auditorium.) II. You know, I feel just like a mother to our basketball boys. (Taken from one of Miss Nancy Roberson’s numerous speeches.) III. Je ne sais pas. (The usual answer to a French question.) IV. Folks, all I want to do is to get your top-pieces to working. (Mr. Holton, adviser.) V. You girls just don’t know how much I appreciate this. (Mrs. Spence, “adviseress.”)

DEAR CHIEF: Will you kindly give me some much-needed advice? It is a matter of business and etiquette combined. It concerns the Hon. Dooker Pooker, whom I recently nominated vice president, candidate of the Woman’s party. In his letter to The Bin—you remember the one you requested him to write in Sanskrit?—he states that Epi Gas Tric and School Butter have failed to thank him for his services, and he adds this postscript: “Wouldn’t it be nice if the Duchess of Grandmommer de Battered would be willing to become adviseress to the inexperienced?” […] Do you not agree with me that a note of thanks is absolutely required? If so, what do you think of the following: Dear Dook: I sure thank you. It sounds grand to be called Duchess of Grandmommer after being plain Battered Grandmaw so long. I’ll sure be pleased, too, to accept the office of adviseress if you will kindly advise me where to get the advice. Yours very respectfully—Duchess of Grandmommer de Battered.

The best comes the last, remember that. And while remembering, look upward toward the chosen six who have guided our Sophomore steamboat through the reefs and shoals. While they are looking at the cameraman’s birdie so earnestly, I’ll whisper their names—Adviser, Mr. Rollo Mosher, Marilyn Whiteley, Bob Cowan, Adviseress Miss Katharine Rothenberger; Shirley Field and Johnny Walker. A fine bunch, aren’t we?

It transfers its audience to Arabia in the year 950 A.D. The Oriental ruler, Emir Ackbar, has had his power weakened by his nagging Queen and her shrewish adviseress, Tifeyah.