The article “Whistling Women” was of particular interest to me. Perhaps you will be interested to learn of a rebuttal to all those dire predictions. When I was a little girl, in the early days of this century, I learned to whistle and was very proud of my accomplishment and practiced diligently. My paternal grandmother, who was tone deaf, repeated the opening bit of doggerel in your article. This naturally stopped my whistling until my maternal grandmother removed the curse. She sang, whistled, played the piano, and loved music. The magic cure? It went like this:

Whistling girls and bleating sheep Are the very best property a man can keep. I’ve been whistling ever since.