What do you think of this newspaper article?

The Quest

I am looking for a wife, sir.

Can you find me one today,

With a sort of homey set-up

And a bit of wifey way?

For whereever I am roaming

And I see a girl I know,

I have in mind a picture

of a women mixing dough!

The girls today are witty,

And I like their frank appeal,

But somehow I always wonder

Could they make a descent meal?

And back my fancy wanders

To a kitchen long ago,

And a picture of my mother

As she stood there, mixing dough.

Then I see alittle cottage

With curtains blowing white,

And my magazines and papers,

And a room by evening light;

And a little fellow coming

With unsteady steps and slow,

And my wife says, “Take the baby,

For my hands are in the dough.”

Will the flapper fit my picture,

And when I come home at night,

Will I find this homey mixture

In the soft and yellow light?

Or will auto, movie, dance hall,

Be the way I have to go?

With no baby but to dance it

While the bakers mix the dough?

I am just a working fellow,

But somehow I hate to spare

This picture that for many years

I've looked for one to share;

And I think I'll keep on looking,

For I sort o' think I know

I'd never be quite happy,

If wife couldnt mix the dough.