The third of veils again,— / So telleth Little Love,— / Is private in its skein, / For her exactest fane, / And for her special dove. / … / ’Tis made of wax of bees, / Of fairy wax, fay bees, / And in its charmful frieze, / Letteth no public breeze / Canvass the wifelet’s glees.

Beware, as these achievements can feel “grindy” unless there is a worthwhile reward attached.

Hurry up and get in the car!

What think you of Flattery, Fondneſs, and Tears? Thoſe are Hood-winks that Wives have ready upon every Occaſion.