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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 37660 ***
+
+OF ALL THINGS
+
+BY
+
+ROBERT C. BENCHLEY
+
+
+NEW YORK
+HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY
+1921
+
+
+
+
+     TO
+     HENRY BESSEMER
+
+     Without whose tireless patience, unswerving industry and
+     inexhaustible zeal the Bessemer steel converter would never
+     have become a reality, this book is affectionately dedicated
+     by
+
+     THE AUTHOR.
+
+
+
+
+These sketches appeared originally in _Vanity Fair_, _The New York
+Tribune Sunday Magazine_, _Collier's Weekly_, _Life_, and _Motor
+Print_, all but two of these magazines immediately afterward having
+either discontinued publication or changed hands. To those which are
+old enough to remember, and to the new managements of the others, the
+author offers grateful acknowledgment for permission to reprint the
+material in this book. (As a matter of fact, permission was never
+asked, but they probably won't mind anyway.)
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE
+
+
+When, in the Course of human events, it becomes necessary for one
+people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with
+another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and
+equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle
+them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they
+should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.
+
+We hold these truths to be self-evident,--that all men are created
+equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable
+Rights; that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of
+Happiness. That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted
+among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the
+governed,--That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of
+these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it,
+and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such
+principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall
+seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence,
+indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be
+changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience
+hath shewn, that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are
+sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which
+they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations,
+pursuing invariably the same Object, evinces a design to reduce them
+under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to
+throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their own
+future security. Such has been the patient sufferance of these
+Colonies; and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter
+their former Systems of Government. The history of the present King of
+Great Britain is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all
+having in direct object the establishment of an absolute Tyranny over
+these States. To prove this, let Facts be submitted to a candid world.
+
+                                                    R.C.B.
+
+"The Rookery"
+Breeming Downs
+Wippet-cum-Twyne
+New York City
+August 24, 1921
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+      I THE SOCIAL LIFE OF THE NEWT
+     II "COFFEE, MEGG AND ILK, PLEASE"
+    III WHEN GENIUS REMAINED YOUR HUMBLE SERVANT
+     IV THE TORTURES OF WEEK-END VISITING
+      V GARDENING NOTES
+     VI LESSON NUMBER ONE
+    VII THOUGHTS ON FUEL SAVING
+   VIII NOT ACCORDING TO HOYLE
+     IX FROM NINE TO FIVE
+      X TURNING OVER A NEW LEDGER LEAF
+     XI A PIECE OF ROAST BEEF
+    XII THE COMMUNITY MASQUE AS A SUBSTITUTE FOR WAR
+   XIII CALL FOR MR. KENWORTHY!
+    XIV FOOTBALL; COURTESY OF MR. MORSE
+     XV A LITTLE DEBIT IN YOUR TONNEAU
+    XVI A ROMANCE IN ENCYCLOPÆDIA LAND
+   XVII THE PASSING OF THE ORTHODOX PARADOX
+  XVIII SHAKESPEARE EXPLAINED
+    XIX THE SCIENTIFIC SCENARIO
+     XX THE MOST POPULAR BOOK OF THE MONTH
+    XXI CHRISTMAS AFTERNOON
+   XXII HAIL, VERNAL EQUINOX!
+
+
+            TABLOID EDITIONS
+
+        THE AMERICAN MAGAZINE
+        HARPER'S MAGAZINE
+        THE SATURDAY EVENING POST
+
+
+
+
+OF ALL THINGS!
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+THE SOCIAL LIFE OF THE NEWT
+
+
+It is not generally known that the newt, although one of the smallest
+of our North American animals, has an extremely happy home-life. It is
+just one of those facts which never get bruited about.
+
+[Illustration: "Since that time I have practically lived among the
+newts."]
+
+I first became interested in the social phenomena of newt life early
+in the spring of 1913, shortly after I had finished my researches in
+sexual differentiation among amœba. Since that time I have practically
+lived among newts, jotting down observations, making lantern-slides,
+watching them in their work and in their play (and you may rest
+assured that the little rogues have their play--as who does not?)
+until, from much lying in a research posture on my stomach, over the
+inclosure in which they were confined, I found myself developing what
+I feared might be rudimentary creepers. And so, late this autumn, I
+stood erect and walked into my house, where I immediately set about
+the compilation of the notes I had made.
+
+So much for the non-technical introduction. The remainder of this
+article bids fair to be fairly scientific.
+
+In studying the more intimate phases of newt life, one is chiefly
+impressed with the methods by means of which the males force their
+attentions upon the females, with matrimony as an object. For the newt
+is, after all, only a newt, and has his weaknesses just as any of the
+rest of us. And I, for one, would not have it different. There is
+little enough fun in the world as it is.
+
+The peculiar thing about a newt's courtship is its restraint. It is
+carried on, at all times, with a minimum distance of fifty paces (newt
+measure) between the male and the female. Some of the bolder males may
+now and then attempt to overstep the bounds of good sportsmanship and
+crowd in to forty-five paces, but such tactics are frowned upon by the
+Rules Committee. To the eye of an uninitiated observer, the pair might
+be dancing a few of the more open figures of the minuet.
+
+The means employed by the males to draw the attention and win the
+affection of those of the opposite sex (females) are varied and
+extremely strategic. Until the valuable researches by Strudlehoff in
+1887 (in his "_Entwickelungsmechanik_") no one had been able to
+ascertain just what it was that the male newt did to make the female
+see anything in him worth throwing herself away on. It had been
+observed that the most personally unattractive newt could advance to
+within fifty paces of a female of his acquaintance and, by some _coup
+d'Å“il_, bring her to a point where she would, in no uncertain terms,
+indicate her willingness to go through with the marriage ceremony at
+an early date.
+
+It was Strudlehoff who discovered, after watching several thousand
+courting newts under a magnifying lens (questionable taste on his
+part, without doubt, but all is fair in pathological love) that the
+male, during the courting season (the season opens on the tenth of
+March and extends through the following February, leaving about ten
+days for general overhauling and redecorating) gives forth a strange,
+phosphorescent glow from the center of his highly colored dorsal
+crest, somewhat similar in effect to the flash of a diamond scarfpin
+in a red necktie. This glow, according to Strudlehoff, so fascinates
+the female with its air of elegance and indication of wealth, that she
+immediately falls a victim to its lure.
+
+But the little creature, true to her sex-instinct, does not at once
+give evidence that her morale has been shattered. She affects a
+coyness and lack of interest, by hitching herself sideways along the
+bottom of the aquarium, with her head turned over her right shoulder
+away from the swain. A trained ear might even detect her whistling in
+an indifferent manner.
+
+The male, in the meantime, is flashing his gleamer frantically two
+blocks away and is performing all sorts of attractive feats,
+calculated to bring the lady newt to terms. I have seen a male, in the
+stress of his handicap courtship, stand on his fore-feet,
+gesticulating in amorous fashion with his hind feet in the air. Franz
+Ingehalt, in his "Ãœber Weltschmerz des Newt," recounts having observed
+a distinct and deliberate undulation of the body, beginning with the
+shoulders and ending at the filament of the tail, which might well
+have been the origin of what is known to-day in scientific circles as
+"the shimmy." The object seems to be the same, except that in the case
+of the newt, it is the male who is the active agent.
+
+In order to test the power of observation in the male during these
+manœuvers, I carefully removed the female, for whose benefit he was
+undulating, and put in her place, in slow succession, another (but
+less charming) female, a paper-weight of bronze shaped like a newt,
+and, finally, a common rubber eraser. From the distance at which the
+courtship was being carried on, the male (who was, it must be
+admitted, a bit near-sighted congenitally) was unable to detect the
+change in personnel, and continued, even in the presence of the rubber
+eraser, to gyrate and undulate in a most conscientious manner, still
+under the impression that he was making a conquest.
+
+At last, worn out by his exertions, and disgusted at the meagerness of
+the reaction on the eraser, he gave a low cry of rage and despair and
+staggered to a nearby pan containing barley-water, from which he
+proceeded to drink himself into a gross stupor.
+
+Thus, little creature, did your romance end, and who shall say that
+its ending was one whit less tragic than that of Camille? Not I, for
+one.... In fact, the two cases are not at all analogous.
+
+And now that we have seen how wonderfully Nature works in the
+fulfilment of her laws, even among her tiniest creatures, let us study
+for a minute a cross-section of the community-life of the newt. It is
+a life full of all kinds of exciting adventure, from weaving nests to
+crawling about in the sun and catching insect larvæ and crustaceans.
+The newt's day is practically never done, largely because the insect
+larvæ multiply three million times as fast as the newt can possibly
+catch and eat them. And it takes the closest kind of community
+team-work in the newt colony to get things anywhere near cleaned up by
+nightfall.
+
+It is early morning, and the workers are just appearing, hurrying to
+the old log which is to be the scene of their labors. What a
+scampering! What a bustle! Ah, little scamperers! Ah, little bustlers!
+How lucky you are, and how wise! You work long hours, without pay, for
+the sheer love of working. An ideal existence, I'll tell the
+scientific world.
+
+Over here on the right of the log are the Master Draggers. Of all the
+newt workers, they are the most futile, which is high praise indeed.
+Come, let us look closer and see what it is that they are doing.
+
+The one in the lead is dragging a bit of gurry out from the water and
+up over the edge into the sunlight. Following him, in single file,
+come the rest of the Master Draggers. They are not dragging anything,
+but are sort of helping the leader by crowding against him and eating
+little pieces out of the filament of his tail.
+
+And now they have reached the top. The leader, by dint of much
+leg-work, has succeeded in dragging his prize to the ridge of the log.
+
+The little workers, reaching the goal with their precious freight, are
+now giving it over to the Master Pushers, who have been waiting for
+them in the sun all this while. The Master Pushers' work is soon
+accomplished, for it consists simply in pushing the piece of gurry
+over the other side of the log until it falls with a splash into the
+water, where it is lost.
+
+This part of their day's task finished, the tiny toilers rest,
+clustered together in a group, waving their heads about from side to
+side, as who should say: "There--that's done!" And so it _is_ done, my
+little Master Draggers and my little Master Pushers, and _well_ done,
+too. Would that my own work were as clean-cut and as satisfying.
+
+And so it goes. Day in and day out, the busy army of newts go on
+making the world a better place in which to live. They have their
+little trials and tragedies, it is true, but they also have their fun,
+as any one can tell by looking at a logful of sleeping newts on a hot
+summer day.
+
+And, after all, what more has life to offer?
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+"COFFEE, MEGG AND ILK, PLEASE"
+
+
+Give me any topic in current sociology, such as "The Working Classes
+_vs._ the Working Classes," or "Various Aspects of the Minimum Wage,"
+and I can talk on it with considerable confidence. I have no
+hesitation in putting the Workingman, as such, in his place among the
+hewers of wood and drawers of water--a necessary adjunct to our modern
+life, if you will, but of little real consequence in the big events of
+the world.
+
+But when I am confronted, in the flesh, by the "close up" of a
+workingman with any vestige of authority, however small, I immediately
+lose my perspective--and also my poise. I become servile, almost
+cringing. I feel that my modest demands on his time may, unless
+tactfully presented, be offensive to him and result in something, I
+haven't been able to analyze just what, perhaps public humiliation.
+
+For instance, whenever I enter an elevator in a public building I am
+usually repeating to myself the number of the floor at which I wish to
+alight. The elevator man gives the impression of being a social
+worker, filling the job just for that day to help out the regular
+elevator man, and I feel that the least I can do is to show him that I
+know what's what. So I don't tell him my floor number as soon as I get
+in. Only elderly ladies do that. I keep whispering it over to myself,
+thinking to tell it to the world when the proper time comes. But then
+the big question arises--what is the proper time? If I want to get out
+at the eighteenth floor, should I tell him at the sixteenth or the
+seventeenth? I decide on the sixteenth and frame my lips to say,
+"Eighteen out, please." (Just why one should have to add the word
+"out" to the number of the floor is not clear. When you say "eighteen"
+the obvious construction of the phrase is that you want to get _out_
+at the eighteenth floor, not that you want to get in there or be let
+down through the flooring of the car at that point. However, you'll
+find the most sophisticated elevator riders, namely, messenger boys,
+always adding the word "out," and it is well to follow what the
+messenger boys do in such matters if you don't want to go wrong.)
+
+So there I am, mouthing the phrase, "Eighteen out, please," as we
+shoot past the tenth--eleventh--twelfth--thirteenth floors. Then I
+begin to get panicky. Supposing that I should forget my lines! Or that
+I should say them too soon! Or too late! We are now at the fifteenth
+floor. I clear my throat. Sixteen! Hoarsely I murmur, "Eighteen out."
+But at the same instant a man with a cigar in his mouth bawls,
+"Seventeen out!" and I am not heard.
+
+[Illustration: "At the same instant a man with a cigar in his mouth
+bawls, 'Seventeen out!'"]
+
+The car stops at seventeen, and I step confidentially up to the
+elevator man and repeat, with an attempt at nonchalance, "Eighteen
+out, please." But just as I say the words the door clangs, drowning
+out my request, and we shoot up again. I make another attempt, but
+have become inarticulate and succeed only in making a noise like a man
+strangling. And by this time we are at the twenty-first floor with no
+relief in sight. Shattered, I retire to the back of the car and ride
+up to the roof and down again, trying to look as if I worked in the
+building and had to do it, however boresome it might be. On the return
+trip I don't care what the elevator man thinks of me, and tell him at
+every floor that I, personally, am going to get off at the eighteenth,
+no matter what any one else in the car does. I am dictatorial enough
+when I am riled. It is only in the opening rounds that I hug the
+ropes.
+
+My timidity when dealing with minor officials strikes me first in my
+voice. I have any number of witnesses who will sign statements to the
+effect that my voice changed about twelve years ago, and that in
+ordinary conversation my tone, if not especially virile, is at least
+consistent and even. But when, for instance, I give an order at a soda
+fountain, if the clerk overawes me at all, my voice breaks into a
+yodel that makes the phrase "Coffee, egg and milk" a pretty snatch of
+song, but practically worthless as an order.
+
+If the soda counter is lined with customers and the clerks so busy
+tearing up checks and dropping them into the toy banks that they seem
+to resent any call on their drink-mixing abilities, I might just as
+well save time and go home and shake up an egg and milk for myself,
+for I shall not be waited on until every one else has left the counter
+and they are putting the nets over the caramels for the night. I know
+that. I've gone through it too many times to be deceived.
+
+For there is something about the realization that I must shout out my
+order ahead of some one else that absolutely inhibits my shouting
+powers. I will stand against the counter, fingering my ten-cent check
+and waiting for the clerk to come near enough for me to tell him what
+I want, while, in the meantime, ten or a dozen people have edged up
+next to me and given their orders, received their drinks and gone
+away. Every once in a while I catch a clerk's eye and lean forward
+murmuring, "Coffee"--but that is as far as I get. Some one else has
+shoved his way in and shouted, "Coca-Cola," and I draw back to get out
+of the way of the vichy spray. (Incidentally, the men who push their
+way in and footfault on their orders always ask for "Coca-Cola."
+Somehow it seems like painting the lily for them to order a nerve
+tonic.)
+
+I then decide that the thing for me to do is to speak up loud and act
+brazenly. So I clear my throat, and, placing both hands on the
+counter, emit what promises to be a perfect bellow: "COFFEE, MEGG
+AND ILK." This makes just about the impression you'd think it would,
+both on my neighbors and the clerk, especially as it is delivered in a
+tone which ranges from a rich barytone to a rather rasping tenor. At
+this I withdraw and go to the other end of the counter, where I can
+begin life over again with a clean slate.
+
+[Illustration: "Placing both hands on the counter, I emit what
+promises to be a perfect bellow."]
+
+Here, perhaps, I am suddenly confronted by an impatient clerk who is
+in a perfect frenzy to grab my check and tear it into bits to drop in
+his box. "What's yours?" he flings at me. I immediately lose my memory
+and forget what it was that I wanted. But here is a man who has a lot
+of people to wait on and who doubtless gets paid according to the
+volume of business he brings in. I have no right to interfere with his
+work. There is a big man edging his way beside me who is undoubtedly
+going to shout "Coca-Cola" in half a second. So I beat him to it and
+say, "Coca-Cola," which is probably the last drink in the store that I
+want to buy. But it is the only thing that I can remember at the
+moment, in spite of the fact that I have been thinking all morning how
+good a coffee, egg and milk would taste. I suppose that one of the
+psychological principles of advertising is to so hammer the name of
+your product into the mind of the timid buyer that when he is
+confronted by a brusk demand for an order be can't think of anything
+else to say, whether he wants it or not.
+
+This dread of offending the minor official or appearing to a
+disadvantage before a clerk extends even to my taking nourishment. I
+don't think that I have ever yet gone into a restaurant and ordered
+exactly what I wanted. If only the waiter would give me the card and
+let me alone for, say, fifteen minutes, as he does when I want to get
+him to bring me my check, I could work out a meal along the lines of
+what I like. But when he stands over me, with disgust clearly
+registered on his face, I order the thing I like least and consider
+myself lucky to get out of it with so little disgrace.
+
+And yet I have no doubt that if one could see him in his family life
+the Workingman is just an ordinary person like the rest of us. He is
+probably not at all as we think of him in our dealings with him--a
+harsh, dictatorial, intolerant autocrat, but rather a kindly soul who
+likes nothing better than to sit by the fire with his children and
+read.
+
+And he would probably be the first person to scoff at the idea that he
+could frighten me.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+WHEN GENIUS REMAINED YOUR HUMBLE SERVANT
+
+
+Of course, I really know nothing about it, but I would be willing to
+wager that the last words of Penelope, as Odysseus bounced down the
+front steps, bag in hand, were: "Now, don't forget to write, Odie.
+You'll find some papyrus rolled up in your clean peplum, and just drop
+me a line on it whenever you get a chance."
+
+And ever since that time people have been promising to write, and then
+explaining why they haven't written. Most personal correspondence of
+to-day consists of letters the first half of which are given over to
+an indexed statement of reasons why the writer hasn't written before,
+followed by one paragraph of small talk, with the remainder devoted to
+reasons why it is imperative that the letter be brought to a close. So
+many people begin their letters by saying that they have been rushed
+to death during the last month, and therefore haven't found time to
+write, that one wonders where all the grown persons come from who
+attend movies at eleven in the morning. There has been a
+misunderstanding of the word "busy" somewhere.
+
+So explanatory has the method of letter writing become that it is
+probable that if Odysseus were a modern traveler his letters home to
+Penelope would average something like this:
+
+
+    _Calypso,_
+_Friday afternoon._
+
+DEAR PEN:--I have been so tied up with work during the last week that
+I haven't had a chance to get near a desk to write to you. I have been
+trying to every day, but something would come up just at the last
+minute that would prevent me. Last Monday I got the papyrus all
+unrolled, and then I had to tend to Scylla and Charybdis (I may have
+written you about them before), and by the time I got through with
+them it was bedtime, and, believe me, I am snatching every bit of
+sleep I can get these days. And so it went, first the Læstrygones, and
+then something else, and here it is Friday. Well, there isn't much
+news to write about. Things are going along here about as usual. There
+is a young nymph here who seems to own the place, but I haven't had
+any chance to meet her socially. Well, there goes the ship's bell. I
+guess I had better be bringing this to a close. I have got a lot of
+work to do before I get dressed to go to a dinner of that nymph I was
+telling you about. I have met her brother, and he and I are interested
+in the same line of goods. He was at Troy with me. Well, I guess I
+must be closing. Will try to get off a longer letter in a day or two.
+
+Your loving husband,
+    ODIE.
+
+P.S.--You haven't got that bunch of sports hanging round the palace
+still, have you? Tell Telemachus I'll take him out of school if I hear
+of his playing around with any of them.
+
+
+But there was a time when letter writing was such a fad, especially
+among the young girls, that if they had had to choose between eating
+three meals a day and writing a letter they wouldn't have given the
+meals even a consideration. In fact, they couldn't do both, for the
+length of maidenly letters in those days precluded any time out for
+meals. They may have knocked off for a few minutes during the heat of
+the day for a whiff at a bottle of salts, but to nibble at anything
+heartier than lettuce would have cramped their style.
+
+Take Miss Clarissa Harlowe, for instance. In Richardson's book (which,
+in spite of my personal aversion to it, has been hailed by every great
+writer, from Pope to Stevenson, as being perfectly bully) she is
+given the opportunity of telling 2,400 closely printed pages full of
+story by means of letters to her female friend, Miss Howe (who plays a
+part similar to the orchestra leader in Frank Tinney's act). And 2,400
+pages is nothing to her. When the book closes she is just beginning to
+get her stride. As soon as she got through with that she probably sat
+down and wrote a series of letters to the London papers about the need
+for conscription to fight the Indians in America.
+
+To a girl like Clarissa, in the middle of the eighteenth century, no
+day was too full of horrors, no hour was too crowded with terrific
+happenings to prevent her from seating herself at a desk (she must
+have carried the desk about with her, strapped over her shoulder) and
+tearing off twenty or thirty pages to Friend Anna, telling her all
+about it. The only way that I can see in which she could accomplish
+this so efficiently would be to have a copy boy standing at her elbow,
+who took the letter, sheet by sheet, as she wrote it, and dashed with
+it to the printer.
+
+It is hard to tell just which a girl of that period considered more
+important, the experiences she was writing of or the letter itself.
+She certainly never slighted the letter. If the experience wanted to
+overtake her, and jump up on the desk beside her, all right, but,
+experience or no experience, she was going to get that letter in the
+next post or die in the attempt. Unfortunately, she never died in the
+attempt.
+
+Thus, an attack on a young lady's house by a band of cutthroats,
+resulting in the burning of the structure and her abduction, might
+have been told of in the eighteenth century letter system as follows:
+
+
+_Monday night._
+
+SWEET ANNA:--At this writing I find myself in the most horrible
+circumstance imaginable. Picture to yourself, if you can, my dear
+Anna, a party of villainous brigands, veritable cutthroats, all of
+them, led by a surly fellow in green alpaca with white insertion,
+breaking their way, by very force, through the side of your domicile,
+like so many ugly intruders, and threatening you with vile
+imprecations to make you disclose the hiding place of the family
+jewels. If the mere thought of such a contingency is painful to you,
+my beloved Anna, consider what it means to me, your delicate friend,
+to whom it is actually happening at this very minute! For such is in
+very truth the situation which is disclosing itself in my room as I
+write. Not three feet away from me is the odious person before
+described. Now he is threatening me with renewed vigor! Now he has
+placed his coarse hands on my throat, completely hiding the pearl
+necklace which papa brought me from Epsom last summer, and which you,
+and also young Pindleson (whose very name I mention with a blush),
+have so often admired. But more of this later, and until then, believe
+me, my dear Anna, to be
+
+Your ever distressed and affectionate
+    CL. HARLOWE.
+
+
+
+_Monday night. Later._
+
+DEAREST ANNA:--Now, indeed, it is evident, my best, my only friend,
+that I am face to face with the bitterest of fates. You will remember
+that in my last letter I spoke to you of a party of unprincipled
+knaves who were invading my apartment. And now do I find that they
+have, in furtherance of their inexcusable plans, set fire to that
+portion of the house which lies directly behind this, so that as I put
+my pen to paper the flames are creeping, like hungry creatures of some
+sort, through the partitions and into this very room, so that did I
+esteem my safety more than my correspondence with you, my precious
+companion, I should at once be making preparation for immediate
+departure. O my dear! To be thus seized, as I am at this very
+instant, by the unscrupulous leader of the band and carried, by
+brute force, down the stairway through the butler's pantry and into
+the servants' hall, writing as I go, resting my poor paper on the
+shoulder of my detested abductor, is truly, you will agree, my sweet
+Anna, a pitiable episode.
+
+[Illustration: "To be thus seized ... is truly, you will agree, my
+sweet Anna, a pitiable episode."]
+
+Adieu, my intimate friend.
+
+Your obt. s'v't,
+    CL. HARLOWE.
+
+
+One wonders (or, at least, _I_ wonder, and that is sufficient for the
+purposes of this article) what the letter writing young lady of that
+period would have done had she lived in this day of postcards showing
+the rocks at Scipawisset or the Free Public Library in East Tarvia.
+She might have used them for some of her shorter messages, but I
+rather doubt it. The foregoing scene could hardly have been done
+justice to on a card bearing the picture of the Main Street of the
+town, looking north from the Soldiers' Monument, with the following
+legend:
+
+     "Our house is the third on the left with the lilac bush.
+     Cross marks window where gang of rough-necks have just broken
+     in and are robbing and burning the house. Looks like a bad
+     night. Wish you were here. C.H."
+
+No; that would never have done, but it would have been a big relief
+for the postilion, or whoever it was that had to carry Miss Clarissa's
+effusions to their destination. The mail on Monday morning, after a
+springlike Sunday, must have been something in the nature of a wagon
+load of rolls of news print that used to be seen standing in front of
+newspaper offices in the good old days when newspapers were printed on
+paper stock. Of course, the postilion had the opportunity of whiling
+away the time between stations by reading some of the spicier bits in
+the assortment, but even a postilion must have had his feelings, and a
+man can't read that kind of stuff _all_ of the time, and still keep
+his health.
+
+Of course, there are a great many people now who write letters because
+they like to. Also, there are some who do it because they feel that
+they owe it to posterity and to their publishers to do so. As soon as
+a man begins to sniff a chance that he may become moderately famous he
+is apt to brush up on his letter writing and never send anything out
+that has not been polished and proof-read, with the idea in mind that
+some day some one is going to get all of his letters together and make
+a book of them. Apparently, most great men whose letters have been
+published have had premonition of their greatness when quite young,
+as their childish letters bear the marks of careful and studied
+attention to publicity values. One can almost imagine the budding
+genius, aged eight, sitting at his desk and saying to himself:
+
+[Illustration: "I must not forget that I am now going through the
+'_Sturm und Drang_' period."]
+
+"In this spontaneous letter to my father I must not forget that I am
+now going through the _Sturm und Drang_ (storm and stress) period of
+my youth and that this letter will have to be grouped by the compiler
+under the _Sturm und Drang_ (storm and stress) section in my collected
+letters. I must therefore keep in the key and quote only such of my
+favorite authors as will contribute to the effect. I think I will use
+Werther to-day.... My dear Father"--etc.
+
+I have not known many geniuses in their youth, but I have had several
+youths pointed out to me by their parents as geniuses, and I must
+confess that I have never seen a letter from any one of them that
+differed greatly from the letters of a normal boy, unless perhaps they
+were spelled less accurately. Given certain uninteresting conditions,
+let us say, at boarding school, and I believe that the average bright
+boy's letter home would read something in this fashion:
+
+
+_Exeter, N.H.,_
+  _Wed., April 25._
+
+MY DEAR FATHER AND MOTHER:
+
+I have been working pretty hard this week, studying for a history
+examination, and so haven't had much of a chance to write to you.
+Everything is about the same as usual here, and there doesn't seem to
+be much news to write to you about. The box came all right, and thank
+you very much. All the fellows liked it, especially the little apple
+pies. Thank you very much for sending it. There hasn't much been
+happening here since I wrote you last week. I had to buy a new pair of
+running drawers, which cost me fifty cents. Does that come out of my
+allowance? Or will you pay for it? There doesn't seem to be any other
+news. Well, there goes the bell, so I guess I will be closing.
+
+Your loving son,
+    BUXTON.
+
+
+Given the same, even less interesting conditions, and a boy such as
+Stevenson must have been (judging from his letters) could probably
+have delivered himself of this, and more, too:
+
+
+_Wyckham-Wyckham,_
+    _The Tenth._
+
+DEAR PATER:--To-day has been unbelievably exquisite! Great, undulating
+clouds, rolling in serried formation across a sky of pure _lapis
+lazuli_. I feel like what Updike calls a "myrmidon of unhesitating
+amplitude." And a perfect gem of a letter from Toto completed the
+felicitous experience. You would hardly believe, and yet you must, in
+your _cœur des cœurs_, know, that the brown, esoteric hills of this
+Oriental retreat affect me like the red wine of Russilon, and,
+indigent as I am in these matters, I cannot but feel that you have, as
+Herbert says:
+
+    _"Carve or discourse; do not a famine fear._
+     _Who carves is kind to two, who talks to all."_
+
+Yesterday I saw a little native boy, a veritable boy of the streets,
+playing at a game at once so naïve and so resplendent that I was
+irresistibly drawn to its contemplation. You will doubtless jeer when
+I tell you. He was tossing a small _blatch_, such as grow in great
+profusion here, to and fro between himself and the wall of the
+_limple_. I was stunned for the moment, and then I realized that I was
+looking into the very soul of the peasantry, the open stigma of the
+nation. How queer it all seemed! Did it not?
+
+You doubtless think me an ungrateful fellow for not mentioning the
+delicious assortment of goodies which came, like melons to Artemis, to
+this benighted _gesellschaft_ on Thursday last. They were devoured to
+the last crumb, and I was reminded as we ate, like so many _wurras_,
+of those lines of that gorgeous Herbert, of whom I am so fond:
+
+    _"Must all be veiled, while he that reads divines,_
+     _Catching the sense at two removes?"_
+
+The breeze is springing up, and it brings to me messages of the open
+meadows of Litzel, deep festooned with the riot of gloriannas. How
+quiet they seem to me as I think of them now! How emblematic! Do you
+know, my dear Parent, that I sometimes wonder if, after all, it were
+not better to dream, and dream ... and dream.
+
+Your affectionate son,
+    BERGQUIST.
+
+
+So don't worry about your boy if he writes home like that. He may
+simply have an eye for fame and future compilation.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+THE TORTURES OF WEEK-END VISITING
+
+
+The present labor situation shows to what a pretty pass things may
+come because of a lack of understanding between the parties involved.
+I bring in the present labor situation just to give a touch of
+timeliness to this thing. Had I been writing for the Christmas number,
+I should have begun as follows: "The indiscriminate giving of
+Christmas presents shows to what a pretty pass things may come because
+of a lack of understanding between the parties involved."
+
+The idea to be driven home is that things may come to a pretty pass by
+the parties involved in an affair of any kind if they do not come to
+an understanding before commencing operations.
+
+I hope I have made my point clear. Especially is this true, (watch out
+carefully now, as the whole nub of the article will be coming along in
+just a minute), especially is this true in the relations between host
+and guest on week-end visits. (There, you have it! In fact, the title
+to this whole thing might very well be, "The Need for a Clearer
+Definition of Relations between Host and Guest on Week-end Visits,"
+and not be at all overstating it, at that.)
+
+The logic of this will be apparent to any one who has ever been a host
+or a guest at a week-end party, a classification embracing practically
+all Caucasians over eleven years of age who can put powder on the nose
+or tie a bow-tie. Who has not wished that his host would come out
+frankly at the beginning of the visit and state, in no uncertain
+terms, the rules and preferences of the household in such matters as
+the breakfast hour? And who has not sounded his guest to find out what
+he likes in the regulation of his diet and _modus vivendi_ (mode of
+living)? Collective bargaining on the part of labor unions and capital
+makes it possible for employers to know just what the workers think on
+matters of common interest. Is collective bargaining between host and
+guest so impossible, then?
+
+Take, for example, the matter of arising in the morning. Of course,
+where there is a large house-party the problem is a simple one, for
+you can always hear the others pattering about and brushing their
+teeth. You can regulate your own arising by the number of people who
+seem to be astir. But if you are the only guest there is apt to be a
+frightful misunderstanding.
+
+"At what time is breakfast?" you ask.
+
+"Oh, any old time on Sundays," replies the hostess with a generous
+gesture. "Sleep as late as you like. This is 'Liberty Hall.'"
+
+The sentiment in this attitude is perfectly bully, but there is
+nothing that you can really take hold of in it. It satisfies at the
+time, but in the morning there is a vagueness about it that is simply
+terrifying.
+
+Let us say that you awake at eight. You listen and hear no one
+stirring. Then, over on the cool pillow again until eight-twenty.
+Again up on the elbow, with head cocked on one side. There is a creak
+in the direction of the stairs. They may all be up and going down to
+breakfast! It is but the work of a moment, to bound out of bed and
+listen at the door. Perhaps open it modestly and peer out. Deathlike
+silence, broken only, as the phrase goes, by the ticking of the hall
+clock, and not a soul in sight. Probably they are late sleepers. Maybe
+eleven o'clock is their Sunday rising hour. Some people _are_ like
+that.
+
+Shut the door and sit on the edge of the bed. More sleep is out of the
+question. Let's take a look at the pictures in the guest-room, just to
+pass the time. Here's one of Lorna Doone. How d'e do, Lorna? Here's a
+group--taken in 1902--showing your host in evening clothes, holding a
+mandolin. Probably a member of his college musical-club. Rather
+unkempt looking bunch, you _must_ say. Well, how about this one? An
+etching, showing suspicious-looking barges on what is probably the
+Thames. Fair enough, at that.
+
+Back to the door and listen again. Tick-tock-tick-tock. Probably, if
+you started your tub, you'd wake the whole house. Let's sit down on
+the edge of the bed again.
+
+Hello, here are some books on the table. "Fifty Famous Sonnets,"
+illustrated by Maxfield Parrish. Never touch a sonnet before
+breakfast. "My experiences in the Alps," by a woman mountain-climber
+who has written on the fly-leaf, "To my good friends the Elbridges, in
+memory of many happy days together at Chamounix. October, 1907." That
+settles _that_. "Essay on Compensation" in limp leather, by R.W.
+Emerson, published by Houghton, Mifflin & Co. Oh, very well! You
+suppose they thought that would be over your head, did they? Well,
+we'll just show them! We'll read it just for spite. Opening, to the
+red ribbon:
+
+"Of the like nature is that expectation of change which instantly
+follows the suspension of our voluntary activity. The terror of
+cloudless noon--"
+
+By the way, it must be nearly noon now! Ten minutes past nine, only!
+Well, the only thing to do is get dressed and go out and walk about
+the grounds. Eliminate the tub as too noisy. And so, very cautiously,
+almost clandestinely, you proceed to dress.
+
+And now, just to reverse the process. Suppose you are the host. You
+have arisen at eight and listened at the guest's door. No sound.
+Tip-toe back and get dressed, talking in whispers to your wife (the
+hostess) and cramming flannel bears into the infant's mouth to keep
+him from disturbing the sleeper.
+
+"Bill looked tired last night. Better let him sleep a little longer,"
+you suggest. And so, downstairs on your hands and knees, and look over
+the Sunday papers. Then a bracing walk on the porch, resulting in a
+terrific appetite.
+
+A glance at the watch shows nine o'clock. Sunday breakfast is usually
+at eight-thirty. The warm aroma of coffee creeps in from the kitchen
+and, somewhere, _some one_ is baking muffins. This is awful! You
+suppose it feels something like this to be caught on an ice-floe
+without any food and so starve to death. Only there you can't smell
+coffee and muffins. You sneak into the dining-room and steal one of
+the property oranges from the side-board, but little Edgar sees you
+and sets up such a howl that you have to give it to him. The hostess
+suggests that your friend may have the sleeping-sickness. Weakened by
+hunger, you hotly resent this, and one word leads to another.
+
+"Oh, very well, I'll go up and rout him out," you snarl.
+
+[Illustration: "'Hello. Bill,' you say flatly."]
+
+Upstairs again, and poise, in listening attitude, just in front of the
+guest's door. Slowly the door opens, inch by inch, and, finally his
+head is edged cautiously out toward yours.
+
+"Hello, Bill," you say flatly, "what are you getting up this time of
+the morning for? Thought I told you to sleep late."
+
+"Morning, Ed," he says, equally flatly, "hope I haven't kept you all
+waiting." Then you both lie and eat breakfast.
+
+Such a misunderstanding is apt to go to almost any length. I once knew
+of a man on a week-end visit who spent an entire Sunday in his room,
+listening at his door to see if the family were astir, while, in the
+meantime, the family were, one by one, tip-toeing to his door to see
+if they could detect any signs of life from him.
+
+Each thought the other needed rest.
+
+Along about three in the afternoon the family threw all hospitality
+aside and ate breakfast, deadening the sound of the cutlery as much as
+possible, little dreaming that their guest was looking through the "A
+Prayer for Each Day" calendar for the ninth time and seriously
+considering letting himself down from the window on a sheet and making
+for the next train. Shortly after dark persistent rumors got abroad
+that he had done away with himself, and every one went up and sniffed
+for gas. It was only when the maid, who was not in on the secret,
+bolted into the room to turn down his bed for the night, that she
+found him tip-toeing about, packing and unpacking his bag and
+listening eagerly at the wall. (Now don't ask how it happened that the
+maid didn't know that his bed hadn't been made that morning. What
+difference does it make, anyway? It is such questions as _that_, that
+blight any attempt at individual writing in this country.)
+
+Don't think, just because I have taken all this space to deal with the
+rising-hour problem that there are no other points to be made. Oh, not
+at all. There is, for instance, the question of exercise. After dinner
+the host says to himself: "Something must be done. I wonder if he
+likes to walk." Aloud, he says: "Well, Bill, how about a little hike
+in the country?"
+
+A hike in the country being the last thing in the world that Bill
+wants, he says, "Right-o! Anything you say." And so, although walking
+is a tremendous trial to the host, who has weak ankles, he bundles up
+with a great show of heartiness and grabs his stick as if this were
+the one thing he lived for.
+
+After about a mile of hobbling along the country-road the host says,
+hopefully: "Don't let me tire you out, old man. Any time you want to
+turn back, just say the word."
+
+The guest, thinking longingly of the fireside, scoffs at the idea of
+turning back, insisting that if there is one thing in all the world
+that he likes better than walking it is running. So on they jog,
+hippity-hop, hippity-hop, each wishing that it would rain so that they
+could turn about and go home.
+
+Here again the thing may go to almost tragic lengths. Suppose neither
+has the courage to suggest the return move. They might walk on into
+Canada, or they might become exhausted and have to be taken into a
+roadhouse and eat a "$2 old-fashioned Southern dinner of fried chicken
+and waffles." The imagination revolts at a further contemplation of
+the possibilities of this lack of coöperation between guest and host.
+
+[Illustration: "So on they jog.... Each wishing that it would rain."]
+
+I once visited a man who had an outdoor swimming-pool on his estate.
+(Consider that as very casually said.) It was in April, long before
+Spring had really understood what was expected of her. My first night
+there my host said:
+
+"Are you a morning plunger?"
+
+Thinking that he referred to a tub plunge in a warm bathroom, I glowed
+and said: "You bet."
+
+"I'll call for you at seven in the morning, then," he said, "and we'll
+go out to the pool."
+
+It was evidently his morning custom and I wasn't going to have it said
+of me that a middle-aged man could outdo me in virility. So, at seven
+in the morning, in a dense fog (with now and then a slash of cold
+rain), we picked our way out to the pool and staged a vivid Siberian
+moving picture scene, showing naked peasants bathing in the Nevsky. My
+visit lasted five days, and I afterward learned, from one to whom my
+host had confided, that it was the worst five days he had ever gone
+through, and that he has chronic joint-trouble as a result of those
+plunges. "But I couldn't be outdone by a mere stripling," he said,
+"and the boy certainly enjoyed it."
+
+All of this might have been avoided by the posting of a sign in a
+conspicuous place in my bedroom, reading as follows: "Personally, I
+dislike swimming in the pool at this time of the year. Guests wishing
+to do so may obtain towels at the desk." How very simple and
+practical!
+
+The sign system is the only solution I can offer. It is crude and
+brutal, but it admits of no misunderstanding. A sign in each
+guest-room, giving the hours of meals, political and religious
+preferences of the family, general views on exercise, etc., etc., with
+a blank for the guest to fill out, stating his own views on these
+subjects, would make it possible to visit (or entertain) with a sense
+of security thus far unknown upon our planet.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+GARDENING NOTES
+
+
+During the past month almost every paper, with the exception of the
+agricultural journals, has installed an agricultural department,
+containing short articles by Lord Northcliffe, or some one else in the
+office who had an unoccupied typewriter, telling the American citizen
+how to start and hold the interest of a small garden. The seed
+catalogue has become the catechism of the patriot, and, if you don't
+like to read the brusk, prosy directions on planting as given there,
+you may find the same thing done in verse in your favorite poetry
+magazine, or a special department in _The Plumbing Age_ under the
+heading "The Plumber's Garden: How and When to Plant."
+
+But all of these editorial suggestions appear to be conducted by
+professionals for the benefit of the layman, which seems to me to be a
+rather one-sided way of going about the thing. Obviously the
+suggestions should come from a layman himself, in the nature of
+warnings to others.
+
+I am qualified to put forth such an article because of two weeks'
+service in my own back yard, doing my bit for Peter Henderson and
+planting all sorts of things in the ground without the slightest
+expectation of ever seeing anything of any of them again. If, by any
+chance, a sprout should show itself, unmistakably the result of one of
+my plantings, I would be willing to be quoted as saying that Nature
+_is_ wonderful. In fact, I would take it as a personal favor, and
+would feel that anything that I might do in the future for Nature
+would be little enough in return for the special work she went to all
+the trouble of doing for me. But all of this is on condition that
+something of mine grows into manhood. Otherwise, Nature can go her way
+and I go mine, just as we have gone up till now.
+
+However, although I am an amateur, I shall have to adopt, in my
+writing, the tone of a professional, or I shall never get any one to
+believe what I say. If, therefore, from now on I sound a bit cold and
+unfriendly, you will realize that a professional agricultural writer
+has to have _some_ dignity about his stuff, and that beneath my rough
+exterior I am a pleasant enough sort of person to meet socially.
+
+
+_Preparing the Ground for the Garden_
+
+This is one of the most important things that the young gardener is
+called upon to do. In fact, a great many young gardeners never do
+anything further. Some inherited weakness, something they never
+realized they had before, may crop out during this process: weak back,
+tendency of shoulder-blades to ossification, misplacement of several
+important vertebræ, all are apt to be discovered for the first time
+during the course of one day's digging. If, on the morning following
+the first attempt to prepare the ground for planting, you are able to
+walk in a semi-erect position as far as the bathtub (and, without
+outside assistance, lift one foot into the water), you may flatter
+yourself that you are, joint for joint, in as perfect condition as
+the man in the rubber-heels advertisements.
+
+[Illustration: "If you are able to walk as far as the bathtub..."]
+
+Authorities differ as to the best way of digging. All agree that
+it is impossible to avoid walking about during the following week as
+if you were impersonating an old colored waiter with the lumbago; but
+there are two schools, each with its own theory, as to the less
+painful method. One advocates bending over, without once raising up,
+until the whole row is dug. The others, of whom I must confess that I
+am one, feel that it is better to draw the body to a more or less
+erect position after each shovelful. In support of this contention,
+Greitz, the well-known authority on the muscles of the back, says on
+page 233 of his "Untersuchungen über Sittlichkeitsdelikte und
+Gesellschaftsbiologie":
+
+"The constant tightening and relaxing of the _latissimus dorsi_
+effected in raising the body as the earth is tossed aside, has a
+tendency to relieve the strain by distributing it equally among the
+_serratus posticus inferior_ and the corner of Thirty-fourth Street."
+He then goes on to say practically what I have said above.
+
+The necessity for work of such a strenuous nature in the mere
+preliminaries of the process of planting a garden is due to the fact
+that the average back-yard has, up till the present time, been
+behaving less like a garden than anything else in the world. You might
+think that a back-yard, possessed of an ordinary amount of decency and
+civic-pride would, at some time during its career, have said to
+itself:
+
+"Now look here! I may some day be called upon to be a garden, and the
+least I can do is to get myself into some sort of shape, so that, when
+the time comes, I will be fairly ready to receive a seed or two."
+
+But no! Year in and year out they have been drifting along in a fools'
+paradise, accumulating stones and queer, indistinguishable cans and
+things, until they were prepared to become anything, quarries,
+iron-mines, notion-counters,--anything but gardens.
+
+I have saved in a box all the things that I have dug from my
+back-yard, and, when I have them assembled, all I will need will
+be a good engine to make them into a pretty fairly decent
+runabout,--nothing elaborate, mind you, but good enough to run the
+family out in on Sunday afternoons.
+
+And then there are lots of other things that wouldn't even fit into
+the runabout. Queer-looking objects, they are; things that perhaps in
+their hey-dey were rather stunning, but which have now assumed an air
+of indifference, as if to say, "Oh, call me anything, old fellow,
+Ice-pick, Mainspring, Cigar-lighter, anything, I don't care." I tell
+you, it's enough to make a man stop and think. But there, I mustn't
+get sentimental.
+
+In preparing the soil for planting, you will need several tools.
+Dynamite would be a beautiful thing to use, but it would have a
+tendency to get the dirt into the front-hall and track up the stairs.
+This not being practicable, there is no other way but for you to get
+at it with a fork (oh, don' be silly), a spade, and a rake. If you
+have an empty and detached furnace boiler, you might bring that along
+to fill with the stones you will dig up. If it is a small garden, you
+ought not to have to empty the boiler more than three or four times.
+Any neighbor who is building a stone house will be glad to contract
+with you for the stones, and those that are left over after he has got
+his house built can be sold to another neighbor who is building
+another stone house. Your market is limited only by the number of
+neighbors who are building stone houses.
+
+On the first day, when you find yourself confronted by a stretch of
+untouched ground which is to be turned over (technical phrase, meaning
+to "turn over"), you may be somewhat at a loss to know where to begin.
+Such indecision is only natural, and should cause no worry on the
+part of the young gardener. It is something we all have to go through
+with. You may feel that it would be futile and unsystematic to go
+about digging up a forkful here and a shovelful there, tossing the
+earth at random, in the hope that in due time you will get the place
+dug up. And so it would.
+
+The thing to do is to decide just where you want your garden, and what
+its dimensions are to be. This will have necessitated a previous
+drawing up of a chart, showing just what is to be planted and where.
+As this chart will be the cause of considerable hard feeling in the
+family circle, usually precipitating a fist-fight over the number of
+rows of onions to be set out, I will not touch on that in this
+article. There are some things too intimate for even a professional
+agriculturist to write of. I will say, however, that those in the
+family who are standing out for onions might much better save their
+time and feelings by pretending to give in, and then, later in the
+day, sneaking out and slipping the sprouts in by themselves in some
+spot where they will know where to find them again.
+
+Having decided on the general plan and dimensions of the plot, gather
+the family about as if for a corner-stone dedication, and then make a
+rather impressive ceremony of driving in the first stake by getting
+your little boy to sing the first twelve words of some patriotic air.
+(If he doesn't know the first twelve, any twelve will do. The idea is
+to keep the music going during the driving of the stake.)
+
+[Illustration: "Make a rather impressive ceremony of driving the first
+stake."]
+
+The stake is to be driven at an imaginary corner of what is to be your
+garden, and a string stretched to another stake at another imaginary
+corner, and there you have a line along which to dig. This will be a
+big comfort. You will feel that at last you have something tangible.
+Now all that remains is to turn the ground over, harrow it, smooth it
+up nice and neat, plant your seeds, cultivate them, thin out your
+plants and pick the crops.
+
+It may seem that I have spent most of my time in advice on preparing
+the ground for planting. Such may well be the case, as that was as far
+as I got. I then found a man who likes to do those things and whose
+doctor has told him that he ought to be out of doors all the time. He
+is an Italian, and charges really very little when you consider what
+he accomplishes. Any further advice on starting and keeping up a
+garden, I shall have to get him to write for you.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+LESSON NUMBER ONE
+
+
+Frankly, I am not much of a hand at machinery of any sort. I have no
+prejudice against it as such, for some of my best friends are of a
+mechanical turn of mind, and very nice fellows they are too. But the
+pencil sharpener in our office is about as far as I, personally, have
+ever got in the line of operating a complicated piece of mechanism
+with any degree of success.
+
+So, when George suggested that he teach me to run his car, it seemed a
+reasonable proposition. Obviously, _some one_ had to teach me. I
+couldn't be expected to go out and pick the thing up by myself, like
+learning to eat olives. No matter how well-intentioned I might be, or
+how long I stuck at it, the chances are that I never could learn to
+drive a car simply by sitting in the seat alone and fooling around
+among the gadgets until I found the right ones. Something would be
+sure to happen to spoil the whole thing long before I got the hang of
+it.
+
+The car was, therefore, brought out into the driveway at the side of
+the house, like a bull being led into the ring for a humid afternoon
+with the matador. It was right here that George began to show his true
+colors, for he stopped the engine, which was running very nicely as it
+was, and said that I might as well begin by learning to crank it, as I
+probably would spend seven-eighths of my driving time cranking in the
+future.
+
+I didn't like this in George. It showed that he wasn't going about it
+in the right spirit. He was beginning with the assumption that I would
+make a dub of myself, and, as I was already beginning to assume the
+same thing, it looked rather black for the lesson, with both parties
+to it holding the same pessimistic thought.
+
+So, right off the bat, I said:
+
+"No, George. It seems to me that you ought to crank it yourself.
+To-day I am learning to _drive_ the car. 'One thing at a time' is my
+motto. That is what has brought our modern industrial system to its
+present state of efficiency: the Division of Labor--one man who does
+nothing but make holes in washers, another who does nothing but slip
+the washers over the dinguses over which they belong; one man who
+devotes his whole time to running a car, another who specializes in
+cranking it. Now, in the early days of industry, when the guild was
+the unit of organization among the workers--"
+
+George, having cranked the engine, motioned me into the driver's seat,
+and took his position beside me. It struck me that the thing was very
+poorly arranged, in that the place which was to be occupied by the
+driver, obviously the most important person in the car (except, of
+course, the lady member of the party in the tonneau, who holds the
+bluebook and gives wrong directions as to turnings), was all cluttered
+up with a lot of apparatus and pedals and things, so much so that I
+had to inhale and contract in order to squeeze past the wheel into my
+seat. And even then I was forced to stretch one leg out so far that I
+kicked a little gadget on a box arrangement on the dashboard, which
+apparently stopped the engine. As he cranked it again, George said,
+among other things, that it couldn't possibly have been done except on
+purpose, and that he could take a joke as well as the next man, but
+that, good night, what was the use of being an ass?
+
+As if I, with no mechanical instinct whatever, knew what was in that
+box! I don't know even now, and I have got my driver's license.
+
+George finally got things stirring again and climbed in, leaving the
+door partly open no doubt in order that, in case of emergency, he
+could walk, not run, to the street via the nearest exit.
+
+"The gear set of this car is of the planetary type," he said, by way
+of opening the seminar, while the motor behaved as if it were trying
+to jiggle its way out from under the cushions and bite me. "This
+planetary system gives two forward speeds and a reverse motion."
+
+[Illustration: "George said that he could take a joke, but that, good
+night! what was the use of being an ass?"]
+
+"Nothing could be fairer than that. It sounds like an almost perfect
+arrangement to me," I said, to show that I was listening. And then, to
+show that I was thinking about the thing as well, I asked: "But surely
+you don't have to pedal the thing along yourself by foot power! All
+those pedals down there would seem to leave very little for the
+gasoline power to do."
+
+"Those three pedals are what do the trick," explained George. And then
+he added ominously: "If you should step on that left-hand one now, you
+would throw in your clutch."
+
+"Please, George, don't get morbid," I protested. "I'm nervous enough
+as it is, without having to worry about my own bodily safety."
+
+"The middle pedal, marked 'R,' is the reverse, and the one at the
+right, marked 'B,' is the foot brake. Now, when you want to start--"
+
+"Just a minute, please," I said sternly. "You skip over those as if
+there were something about them you were a little ashamed of, George.
+Are you keeping something from me about the reverse and the foot
+brake?"
+
+"I didn't know but that somewhere in your valuable college course they
+taught you what 'reverse' meant, and I was sure that your little son
+had told you all about the foot brake on his express wagon," said
+George, waxing sarcastic in the manner of the technical man that he
+is.
+
+"I don't want you to take anything for granted in teaching me to run
+this thing," I replied. "It is those little things that count, you
+know, and I would feel just as badly as you would if I were to run
+your car over a cliff into a rocky gorge because of some detail that I
+was uninformed about. You know that, George."
+
+"Very well," he said, "I'll get down to fundamentals. When you push
+the reverse pedal, you drive the car in the opposite direction from
+that in which it is headed. This is done by tightening the external
+contracting clutch bands which are between the gearing and the disk
+clutch."
+
+Somehow this struck me as funny. The idea of reversing by tightening
+_any_ bands at all, much less external contracting ones, was the one
+thing needed to send me off into roars of laughter. The whole thing
+seemed so flat, after the excitement of the war, and everything.
+
+Naturally George didn't get it. It was 'way over his head, and I knew
+that there would be no use trying to explain it to him. So I just
+continued to chuckle and murmur: "External contracting clutch bands!
+You'll be the death of me yet, George!"
+
+But I felt that, as the minutes went by, the situation was getting
+strained. My instructor and I were growing farther and farther apart
+in spirit, and, after all, it was his car and he was going to
+considerable trouble to teach me to run it, and the least that I could
+do would be to take him seriously, whether the thing struck me as
+being sensible or not.
+
+So I calmed myself with some effort, and tried to bring the
+conversation around to an opening for him to begin with further
+explanations.
+
+"But, all joking aside, George, how can you be so sure about these
+things? You say that when you push the reverse pedal you tighten the
+external contracting clutch bands. Did you ever see them tighten? Or
+were you taking some one's word for it? Remember how the German people
+were deceived for years by their rulers! Now supposing--just
+supposing--that it had been to some unscrupulous person's advantage to
+make you think that the--"
+
+"Now, listen, Bob," said George (my name _is_ Bob, and I see no reason
+why, simply because I am writing a piece about myself, I should make
+believe that my name is Stuart or Will, especially as it is right
+there in black and white at the head of the story. This assuming new
+names on the part of authors is a literary affectation which ought to
+be done away with once and for all). "Now, listen, Bob," said George,
+very quietly and very distinctly, "the only thing for you to do if you
+are going to learn to run this thing, is to get right down to brass
+tacks and _run_ it, and the sooner you try it, the better."
+
+"Oh, you practical guys!" I said. "Nothing will do but you must
+always be getting down to brass tacks. It's men like you who are
+driving all the poetry out of the world."
+
+"You flatter me," said George, reaching bruskly across me as if he
+were after the salt and pepper, and adjusting a couple of dingbats on
+the steering wheel. "This here is the spark, and this is the throttle.
+The throttle governs the gas supply, and the spark regulates the--eh,
+well, it regulates the spark."
+
+"What won't these scientists think up next?" I marveled. "It's
+uncanny, that's what it is--uncanny."
+
+"_Now_, then: hold your foot on the clutch pedal and keep her in
+neutral, while you shove your hand lever forward as far as it will go.
+_That's_ right!... That's fine ... 'way forward ... now ... _that's_
+right ... that's fine!"
+
+I was so encouraged by the way things seemed to be going that I took
+all my feet away from all the things they were stepping on, and
+sighed:
+
+"Let's rest a minute, old man. I'm all of a tremble. It's much easier
+than I thought, but I'd rather take it stage by stage than to dash
+right off the first thing."
+
+The trouble seemed to be that, in lifting my feet, I had discouraged
+the motor, which sighed and stopped functioning, giving the car a
+playful shake, like an Erie local stopping at Babbitt (N.J.) on
+signal. So George said that, in the future, no matter how well things
+seemed to be going, never to give in to my emotions again, but keep
+right on working, even though it looked as if I were in danger of
+becoming an expert driver in three minutes. There is always something
+to learn, he said. Then he got out and cranked the engine.
+
+We went through the same process again, only I kept my foot on the vox
+humana pedal until I had crammed it 'way into fortissimo. Then
+suddenly a wonderful thing happened. The whole thing--car, engine,
+George, and I--began to move, all together. It was a big moment in my
+life. I could see the headlines in the evening papers:
+
+    YOUNG SCRIBE OVERCOMES NATURAL LAWS
+      Causes Auto to Move by Pushing Pedal
+
+But this elation was for only a moment. For, while we had been
+arguing, some one had sneaked up in front of us and transplanted the
+hydrangea bush from the lawn at our side to the very middle of the
+driveway, a silly place for a hydrangea bush at best, but an
+absolutely fatal one at the moment when an automobile was being driven
+through the yard.
+
+It was but the work of a second for me to sense the danger. It was but
+the work of half a second, however, for us to be rustling our way
+slowly and lumberingly into the luxuriant foliage of the bush. So I
+was just about half a second late, which I do not consider bad for a
+beginner.
+
+"Put on your brake!" shouted George.
+
+Quick as a wink (one of those long sensuous winks) I figured out which
+the brake was, by finding the symbolical "B" on the pedal. Like a
+trained mechanician I stepped on it.
+
+"Release your clutch first, you poor fish!" screamed George, above the
+horrible grinding noise. "Release your clutch!"
+
+This was more than flesh and blood could bear. Again I relieved my
+feet from any responsibility in the affair, and turned to my
+instructor.
+
+"Don't _shout_ so!" I yelled back at him. "And don't keep calling it
+_my_ clutch! It may be because I was brought up in a Puritan family,
+but the whole subject of clutches is a closed book to me. If it is
+something I should know about, you can tell me when we get in the
+house. But, for the present, let's drop the matter. At any rate, I
+stopped your darn car, clutch, or no clutch."
+
+And so I had. There we were, in the middle of the hydrangea bush, very
+quiet and peaceful, like a couple of birds in a bird house atop of
+rustling oak (or maple, for that matter). Even the engine had stopped.
+
+I reached out and plucked a blossom that was peeking over the
+dashboard where the whip socket should have been. After all, there is
+no place like the country. I said so to George, and he tacitly agreed.
+At least, I took it to be agreement. It was certainly tacit. I was
+afraid that he was a little hurt over what I had said about the
+clutch, and so I decided that it might be best not to mention the
+subject again. In fact, it seemed wiser to get away from the topic of
+automobiles entirely. So I said softly:
+
+"George, did it ever occur to you how the war has changed our daily
+life? Not only have we had to alter our methods of provisioning our
+tables and feeding our families, but we have acquired a certain
+detachment of mind, a certain new sufficiency of spirit."
+
+(We had both alighted from the car and had placed ourselves, one on
+each side, to roll it out of the embraces of the hydrangea bush.)
+
+"I have been reading a book during the past week on Problems of
+Reconstruction," I continued, "and I have been impressed by the
+thought which is being given to the development of the waste lands in
+the West."
+
+[Illustration: "After all, there is no place like the country. I said
+so to George, and he tacilty agreed."]
+
+(We had, by this time, got the car rolled out into the driveway
+again.)
+
+"The problem of the children, too, is an absorbing one for the years
+which lie ahead of us. We cannot go back to the old methods of child
+training, any more than we can go back to the old methods of
+diplomacy. The war has created a hiatus. That which follows will
+depend on the zeal with which America applies herself to her task of
+rehabilitation."
+
+(The machine was now moored in her parking space by the porte-cochère,
+and the brakes applied.)
+
+"It seems to me that we are living in a great period of transition;
+doesn't it look that way to you, George?"
+
+"Yes," said George.
+
+And so we went into the house.
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+THOUGHTS ON FUEL SAVING
+
+
+Considerable space has been given in the magazines and newspapers this
+winter to official and expert directions on How to Run Your Furnace
+and Save Coal--as if the two things were compatible. Some had
+accompanying diagrams of a furnace in its normal state, showing the
+exact position of the arteries and vitals, with arrows pointing in
+interesting directions, indicating the theoretical course of the heat.
+
+I have given some time to studying these charts, and have come to the
+conclusion that when the authors of such articles and I speak the word
+"furnace," we mean entirely different things. They are referring to
+some idealized, sublimated creation; perhaps the "furnace" which
+existed originally in the mind of Horace W. Furnace, the inventor;
+while, on the other hand, I am referring to the thing that is in my
+cellar. No wonder that I can't understand their diagrams.
+
+For my own satisfaction, therefore, I have drawn up a few regulations
+which I can understand, and have thrown them together most informally
+for whatever they may be worth. Any one else who has checked up the
+official furnace instructions with Life as it really is and has found
+something wrong somewhere may go as far as he likes with the results
+of my researches. I give them to the world.
+
+Saving coal is, just now, the chief concern of most householders, for
+we are now entering that portion of the solstice when it is beginning
+to be necessary to walk some distance into the bin after the coal.
+When first the list of official admonitions were issued, early in the
+season, it was hard to believe that they ever would be needed. The bin
+was so full that it resembled a drug-store window piled high with
+salted peanuts. (As a matter of actual fact, there is probably nothing
+that coal looks _less_ like than salted peanuts, but the effect of
+tremendous quantity was the same.) Adventurous pieces were fairly
+popping out of confinement and rolling over the cellar. It seemed as
+if there were enough coal there to give the _Leviathan_ a good run for
+her money and perhaps take her out as far as Bedloe Island. A fig for
+coal-saving devices!
+
+But now the season is well on, and the bad news is only too apparent.
+The householder, as he finds himself walking farther and farther into
+the bin after the next shovelful, realizes that soon will come the
+time when it will be necessary to scrape the leavings into a corner,
+up against the side of the bin, and to coal his fire, piece by piece,
+between his finger and thumb, while waiting for the dealer to deliver
+that next load, "right away, probably to-day, to-morrow at the
+latest."
+
+It is therefore essential that we turn constructive thought to the
+subject of coal conservation. I would suggest, in the first place, an
+exact aim in shoveling coal into the fire box.
+
+By this I mean the cultivation of an exact aim in shoveling coal into
+the fire box. In my own case (if I may be permitted to inject the
+personal element into this article for one second), I know that it
+often happens that, when I have a large shovelful of coal in readiness
+for the fire, and the door to the fire box open as wide as it will go,
+there may be, nevertheless, the variation of perhaps an eighth of an
+inch between the point where the shovel should have ended the arc in
+its forward swing and the point at which it actually stops. In less
+technical phraseology, I sometimes tick the edge of the shovel against
+the threshold of the fire box, instead of shooting it over as should
+be done. Now, as I usually take a rather long, low swing, with
+considerable power behind it (if I do say so), the sudden contact of
+the shovel with the threshold results in a forceful projection of the
+many pieces of coal (and whatever else it is that comes with the coal
+for good measure) into all corners of the cellar. I have seen coal fly
+from my shovel under such circumstances with such velocity as to land
+among the preserves at the other end of the cellar and in the opposite
+direction from which I was facing.
+
+[Illustration: "In less technical language, I sometimes tick the edge
+of the shovel against the threshold of the fire box."]
+
+Now, this is obviously a waste of coal. It would be impossible to
+stoop all about the cellar picking up the vagrant pieces that had
+flown away, even if the blow of the shovel against the furnace had
+not temporarily paralyzed your hand and caused you to devote your
+entire attention to the coining of new and descriptive word pictures.
+
+I would suggest, for this trouble, the taking of a "stance" in front
+of the fire box, with perhaps chalk markings for guidance of the feet
+at just the right distance away. Then a series of preparatory swings,
+as in driving off in golf, first with the empty shovel, then with a
+gradually increasing amount of coal. The only danger in this would be
+that you might bring the handle of the shovel back against an ash can
+or something behind you and thus spill about as much coal as before.
+But there, there--if you are going to borrow trouble like that, you
+might as well give up right now.
+
+Another mishap of a somewhat similar nature occurs when a shovelful of
+ashes from under the grate is hit against the projecting shaker,
+causing the ashes to scatter over the floor and the shoes. This is a
+very discouraging thing to have happen, for, as the ashes are quite
+apt to contain at least three or four pieces of unburnt coal, it means
+that those pieces are as good as lost unless you have time to hunt
+them up. It also means shining the shoes again.
+
+I find that an efficacious preventive for this is to take the shaker
+off when it is not in use and stand it in the corner. There the worst
+thing that it can do is to fall over against your shins when you are
+rummaging around for the furnace-bath-brush among the rest of the
+truck that hangs on the wall.
+
+And, by the way, there are at least two pieces of long-handled
+equipment hanging on my cellar wall (items in the estate of the former
+tenant, who must have been a fancier of some sort) whose use I have
+never been able to figure out. I have tried them on various parts of
+the furnace at one time or another, but, as there is not much of
+anything that one on the outside of a furnace can do but _poke_, it
+seems rather silly to have half a dozen niblick-pokers and
+midiron-pokers with which to do it. One of these, resembling in shape
+a bridge, such as is used on all occasions by novices at pool, I
+experimented with one night and got it so tightly caught in back of
+the grate somewhere that I had to let the fire go out and take the
+dead coals out, piece by piece, through the door in order to get at
+the captive instrument and release it. And, of course, all this
+experimenting wasted coal.
+
+The shaker is, however, an important factor in keeping the furnace
+going, for it is practically the only recourse in dislodging clinkers
+which have become stuck in the grate--that is, unless you can kick
+the furnace hard enough to shake them down. I have, in moments when, I
+am afraid, I was not quite myself, kicked the furnace with
+considerable force, but I never could see that it had any effect on
+the clinker. This, however, is no sign that it can't be done. I would
+be the first one to wish a man well who did it.
+
+But, ordinarily, the shaker is the accepted agent for teaching the
+clinker its place. And, in the fancy assorted coal in vogue this
+season (one-third coal, one-third slate, and one-third rock candy)
+clinkers are running the combustible matter a slightly better than
+even race. This problem is, therefore, one which must be faced.
+
+I find that a great deal of satisfaction, if not tangible results, can
+be derived from personifying the furnace and the recalcitrant clinker,
+and endowing them with human attributes, such as fear, chagrin, and
+susceptibility to physical and mental pain. In this fanciful manner
+the thing can be talked to as if it were a person, in this way lending
+a zest to the proceedings which would be entirely lacking in a contest
+with an inanimate object.
+
+Thus, when it is discovered that the grate is stuck, you can say,
+_sotto voce_:
+
+"Ho, ho! you *********! So that's your game, is it?"
+
+(I would not attempt to dictate the particular epithets. Each man
+knows so much better than any one else just what gives him the most
+comfort in this respect that it would be presumptuous to lay down any
+formula. Personally, I have a wonderful set of remarks and proper
+names which I picked up one summer from a lobster man in Maine, which
+for soul-satisfying blasphemy are absolutely unbeatable. I will be
+glad to furnish this set to any one sending a stamped, self-addressed
+envelope.)
+
+You then seize the shaker with both hands and give it a vicious yank,
+muttering between your teeth:
+
+"We'll see, my fine fellow! We'll see!"
+
+This is usually very effective in weakening the morale of the clinker,
+for it then realizes right at the start that it is pitted against a
+man who is not to be trifled with.
+
+This should be followed by several short and powerful yanks,
+punctuated on the catch of each stroke with a muttered: "You
+*********!"
+
+If you are short of wind, the force of this ejaculation may diminish
+as the yanks increase in number, in which case it will be well to rest
+for a few seconds.
+
+At this point a little strategy may be brought to bear. You can turn
+away, as if you were defeated, perhaps saying loudly, so that the
+clinker can hear: "Ho-hum! Well, I guess I'll call it a day," and
+pretend to start upstairs.
+
+Then, quick as a wink, you should turn and leap back at the shaker,
+and, before the thing can recover from its surprise, give it a yank
+which will either rip it from its moorings or cause your own vertebræ
+to change places with a sharp click. It is a fifty-fifty chance.
+
+[Illustration: "Quick as a wink you should turn and leap back at the
+shaker."]
+
+But great caution should be observed before trying these heroic
+measures to make sure that the pins which hold the shaker in place are
+secure. A loosened pin will stand just so much shaking, and then it
+will unostentatiously work its way out and look around for something
+else to do. This always causes an awkward situation, for the yank next
+following the walkout of the pin, far from accomplishing its purpose
+of dispossessing the clinker, will precipitate you over backward among
+the ash cans with a viciousness in which it is impossible not to
+detect something personal.
+
+Immediately following such a little upset to one's plans, it is
+perhaps the natural impulse to arise in somewhat of a pet and to set
+about exacting punitive indemnities. This does not pay in the end. If
+you hit any exposed portion of the furnace with the shaker the chances
+are that you will break it, which, while undoubtedly very painful to
+the furnace at the time, would eventually necessitate costly repairs.
+And, if you throw coal at it, you waste coal. This, if you remember,
+is an article on how to save coal.
+
+Another helpful point is to prevent the fire from going out. This may
+be accomplished in one way that I am sure of. That is, by taking a
+book, or a ouija board, or some other indoor entertainment downstairs
+and sitting two feet away from the furnace all day, being relieved by
+your wife at night (or, needless to say, vice versa). I have never
+known this method of keeping the fire alive to fail, except when the
+watcher dropped off to sleep for ten or fifteen minutes. This is
+plenty of time for a raging fire to pass quietly away, and I can prove
+it.
+
+Of course this treatment cuts in on your social life, but I know of
+nothing else that is infallible. I know of nothing else that can
+render impossible that depressing foreboding given expression by your
+wife when she says: "Have you looked at the fire lately? It's getting
+chilly here," followed by the apprehensive trip downstairs, eagerly
+listening for some signs of caloric life from within the
+asbestos-covered tomb; the fearful pause before opening the door,
+hoping against hope that the next move will disclose a ruddy glow
+which can easily be nursed back to health, but feeling, in the
+intuitive depths of your soul, that you might just as well begin
+crumpling up last Sunday's paper to ignite, for the Grim Reaper has
+passed this way.
+
+And then the cautious pull at the door, opening it inch by inch, until
+the bitter truth is disclosed--a yawning cavern of blackness with the
+dull, gray outlines of consumed coals in the foreground, a dismal
+double-play: ashes to ashes.
+
+These little thoughts on furnace tending and coal conservation are not
+meant to be taken as in any sense final. Some one else may have found
+the exact converse to be true; in which case he would do well to make
+a scientific account of it as I have done. It helps to buy coal.
+
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+NOT ACCORDING TO HOYLE
+
+
+I have just finished reading an article by an expert in auction
+bridge, and it has left me in a cold sweat. As near as I can make out,
+it presupposes that every one who plays bridge knows what he is doing
+before he does it, which simply means that I have been going along all
+this time working on exactly the wrong theory. It may incidentally
+explain why I have never been voted the most popular bridge player in
+Wimblehurst or presented with a loving cup by admiring members of the
+Neighborhood Club.
+
+Diametrically opposed to the system of "think-before-you-play,"
+advocated by this expert, my game has been built up purely on
+intuition. I rely almost entirely on the inner promptings of the
+moment in playing a card. I don't claim that there is anything
+spiritualistic about it, for it does not work out with consistent
+enough success to be in any way uncanny. As a matter of fact, it
+causes me a lot of trouble. When one relies on instinct to remind one
+of what the trumps are, or how many of them have been played, there
+is bound to be a slip-up every so often.
+
+But what chagrins me, after reading the expert's article, is the
+thought that all this while I may have been playing with people who
+were actually thinking the thing out beforehand in a sordid sort of
+way, counting the trumps played and figuring on who had the queen or
+where the ten-spot lay. I didn't think there were such people in the
+world.
+
+Here I have been going ahead, in an honest, hail-fellow-well-met mood,
+sometimes following suit, sometimes trumping my partner's trick,
+always taking it for granted that the idea was to get the hand played
+as quickly as possible in order to talk it over and tell each other
+how it might have been done differently.
+
+It is true that, now and again, I have noticed sharp looks directed at
+me by my various partners, but I have usually attributed them to a
+little mannerism I have of humming softly while playing, and I have
+always stopped humming whenever my partner showed signs of
+displeasure, being perfectly willing to meet any one halfway in an
+effort to make the evening a pleasant one for all concerned. But now I
+am afraid that perhaps the humming was only a minor offense. I am
+appalled at the thought of what really was the trouble.
+
+I should never have allowed myself to be dragged into it at all. My
+first big mistake was made when, in a moment of weakness, I consented
+to learn the game; for a man who can frankly say "I do not play
+bridge" is allowed to go over in the corner and run the pianola by
+himself, while the poor neophyte, no matter how much he may protest
+that he isn't "at all a good player, in fact, I'm perfectly rotten,"
+is never believed, but dragged into a game where it is discovered, too
+late, that he spoke the truth.
+
+[Illustration: "Attributed them to a little mannerism I have of
+humming softly while playing."]
+
+But it was a family affair at first. Dora belonged to a whist club
+which met every Friday afternoon on strictly partizan lines, except
+for once a year, when they asked the men in. My experience with this
+organization had been necessarily limited, as it held its sessions
+during my working hours. Once in a while, however, I would get home in
+time to meet in the front hall the stragglers who were just leaving,
+amid a general searching for furs and over-shoes, and for some
+unaccountable reason I usually felt very foolish on such occasions.
+Certainly I had a right, under the Common Law, to be coming in my own
+front door, but I always had a sneaking feeling, there in the midst of
+the departing guests, that the laugh was on me.
+
+One Friday, when I was confined to my room with a touch of neuralgia
+(it was in my face, if you are interested, and the whole right side
+swelled up until it was twice its normal size--I'd like to tell you
+more about it some time), I could hear the sounds of carnival going on
+downstairs. The noises made by women playing bridge are distinctive.
+At first the listener is aware of a sort of preliminary conversational
+murmur, with a running accompaniment of shuffling pasteboards. Then
+follows an unnatural quiet, punctuated by the thud of jeweled knuckles
+or the clank of bracelets as the cards are played against the baize,
+with now and then little squeals of dismay or delight from some of the
+more demonstrative and an occasional "Good for you, partner!" from an
+appreciative dummy. Gradually, as the hand draws toward its close,
+there begins a low sound, like the murmurings of the stage mob in the
+wings, which rapidly increases, until the room is filled with a shrill
+chatter, resembling that in the Bird House in Central Park, from which
+there is distinguishable merely a wild medley:
+
+"If you had led me your queen--was so afraid she might trump in
+with--my dear, I didn't have a face card in my--threw away just the
+wrong--had the jack, 10, 9, and 7--thought Alice had the king--ace and
+three little ones--how about honors?--my dear, _simply_ frightful--if
+you had returned my lead--my _dear_!"
+
+This listening in at bridge, however, was the nearest I had ever been
+to the front, until it came time for the Friday Afternoon Club to let
+down the bars and have a Men's Night. I had no illusions about this
+"Men's Night," but it was a case of my learning to play bridge and
+accompanying Dora, or of her getting some man in from off the sidewalk
+to take my place, and I figured that it would cause less talk if I
+were there to play myself. As I think it over now, I feel that the
+strange-man scheme might have worked out with less comment being made
+than my playing drew down.
+
+But it was for this purpose that I allowed myself to be instructed in
+the rudiments of bridge. I had nothing permanent in mind in absorbing
+these principles, fully expecting to forget them again the day after
+the party. I miscalculated by about one day, it now seems.
+
+The expert, whose article has been such an inspiration to me, had some
+neat little diagrams drawn for him, showing just where the cards lay
+in the four hands, and with the players indicated as A, B, Y, and Z;
+apparently the same people, come up in the world, who, in our algebras
+some years ago, used to buy and sell apples to each other with
+feverish commercialism and to run races with all sorts of unfair
+handicaps. What a small world it is, after all!
+
+It seems to me, therefore, that, since this is a pretty fairly
+technical article, it might be well if I were to utilize the same
+diagrammatic device and terse method of description, to show the exact
+course of the first hand in which I participated at the party.
+
+A and B are our opponents, X my partner, and I (oddly enough) myself.
+A is Ralph Thibbets, one of those cool devils who think they know all
+about a game, and usually do. He has an irritating way of laying down
+his cards, when the hand is about half played, and saying: "Well, the
+rest are mine," and the most irritating part of it all is that, when
+you have insisted on figuring it out for yourself, he is found to be
+right. I disliked him from the first.
+
+B is Mrs. Lucas, who breathes hard and says nothing, but clanks her
+cards down with finality, seeming to say: "That for you!" She got me
+nervous.
+
+X, my partner, used to be a good friend of mine. And, so far as I am
+concerned, I would be perfectly willing to let bygones be bygones and
+be on friendly terms again.
+
+In utilizing the expert's method of description, I shall improve on it
+slightly by also indicating the conversation accompanying each play, a
+feature which is of considerable importance in a game.
+
+B deals, and finally makes it three diamonds, after X has tried to bid
+hearts without encouragement from me. I pass as a matter of principle,
+not being at all sure of this bidding proposition.
+
+I lead, with a clear field and no particular object in view, the 8 of
+diamonds. It looks as uncompromising as any card in my hand. "Leading
+_trumps_," says X with a raising of the eyebrows. "What do you know
+about that!" I exclaim. "I had forgotten that they were trumps. I must
+be asleep. Like the old Irishman when St. Peter asked him where he
+came from, and he said: 'Begorra--'" A cuts this story short by
+playing the 3 of diamonds; X, with some asperity, discards the 3 of
+spades, and B takes the trick with the 10-spot. Silence.
+
+"That story of the Irishman and St. Peter," I continue, "was told to
+me by a fellow in Buffalo last week who had just come from France. He
+said that while he was in a place called 'Mousong,' or 'Mousang,' he
+actually saw--"
+
+"Your play," says X. "Oh, I beg your pardon," I say, "whose jack of
+spades is that?" "Mine," says B, drumming on the table with her finger
+nails and looking about the room at the pictures. Having more poor
+diamonds than anything else in my hand, and aiming to get them out of
+the way as soon as possible to give the good cards a chance, I play
+the 5 of diamonds.
+
+"What, trumping it? Have you no spades?" shouts A. I can see that I
+have him rattled; so, although, as a matter of fact, I have got plenty
+of spades, I smile knowingly and sit tight. These smart Alecs make me
+sick, telling me what I should play and what I should not play. A
+accepts the inevitable and plays his 2-spot. X, considerably cheered
+up, plays the 4 and says: "Our trick, partner." I pick up the cards
+and mix them with those already in my hand, reverting, for the time,
+to poker tactics. This error, alone among all that I make during the
+game, is unobserved.
+
+"Well, I suppose that you people are all excited over that new baby up
+at your house," I say pleasantly to A, just to show him that I can be
+gracious in victory as well as in defeat. "Let's see, is it a boy or a
+girl?"
+
+"It's _your lead_!" he replies shortly.
+
+"I beg your pardon," I say; "I certainly must be asleep to-night."
+And, as my thumb is on the 5 of diamonds, I lead it.
+
+"Here, here!" says A, "wasn't it the 5 of diamonds that you trumped in
+with just a minute ago?" That man has second-sight. As a matter of
+fact, I suspect that there is something crooked about him. "Yes, it
+is," corroborates B in her longest speech of the evening. X says:
+"Where _is_ that trick that we took?" And then it is discovered that
+it has found its way into my hand, from which it is disentangled with
+considerable trouble and segregated. As for me, I pass the whole thing
+off as a joke.
+
+"I saw in the paper this morning," I began when the situation has
+become a little less complicated, "where a woman in Perth Amboy found
+a hundred dollars in the lining of an old lounge in--"
+
+[Illustration: "'Here, here!' says A, 'wasn't it the 5 of diamonds
+that you trumped in with just a minute ago?'"]
+
+"It's your lead, if you don't mind," says A very distinctly. "You have
+made only one false start out of a possible three. Try again." I
+pretend not to hear this sarcasm, and, just to show him that there is
+life in the old dog yet, I lead my ace of spades.
+
+"Look here, my dear sir!" says A, quite upset by now. "Only one hand
+ago you refused spades and trumped them. That revoking on your part
+gives us three tricks and we throw up the hand."
+
+"Fair enough," I retort cheerfully, "three is just what you bid, isn't
+it? Quite a coincidence, I call it," and with that I throw my cards on
+the table with considerable relief. Nothing good could have come of
+this hand, even if we had played until midnight.
+
+From all sides now arose the familiar sounds of the post-mortem: "I
+had the jack, 10, 9, and 7, all good, but I just couldn't get in with
+them.... If you had only led me your king, we could have set them at
+least two.... I knew that Grace had the queen, but I didn't dare try
+to finesse.... We had simple honors.... As soon as I saw you leading
+spades, I knew that there was nothing in it," etc., etc.
+
+But at our table there was no post-mortem. Not because there had been
+no death, but there seemed to be nothing to say about it. So we sat,
+marking down our scores, until Dora came up behind me and said: "Well,
+dear, how is your game coming on?"
+
+As no one else seemed about to speak, I said: "Oh, finely, I'm getting
+the hang of it in no time."
+
+My partner muttered something about hanging being too good, which
+seemed a bit uncalled for.
+
+And so I went through the evening, meeting new people and making new
+friends. And, owing to Dora's having neglected to teach me the details
+of score keeping, I had to make a system up for myself, with the
+result that I finished the evening with a total of 15,000 points on my
+card and won the first prize.
+
+"Beginner's luck," I called it with modest good nature.
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+FROM NINE TO FIVE
+
+
+One of the necessary qualifications of an efficient business man in
+these days of industrial literature seems to be the ability to write,
+in clear and idiomatic English, a 1,000-word story on how efficient he
+is and how he got that way. A glance through any one of our more racy
+commercial magazines will serve nicely to illustrate my point, for it
+was after glancing through one of them only five minutes ago that the
+point suggested itself to me.
+
+"What Is Making Our Business Grow;" "My $10,000 System of Carbon-Copy
+Hunting;" "Making the Turn-Over Turn In;" "If I Can Make My Pencil
+Sharpenings Work, Why Can't You?" "Getting Sales Out of Sahara," etc.,
+are some of the intriguing titles which catch the eye of the student
+of world affairs as he thumbs over the business magazines on the
+news-stands before buying his newspaper. It seems as if the entire
+business world were devoting its working hours to the creation of a
+school of introspective literature.
+
+But the trouble with these writers is that they are all successful.
+There is too much sameness to their stuff. They have their little
+troubles at first, it is true, such as lack of coördination in the
+central typing department, or congestion of office boys in the room
+where the water cooler is situated; but sooner or later you may be
+perfectly sure that Right will triumph and that the young salesman
+will bring in the order that puts the firm back on its feet again.
+They seem to have no imagination, these writers of business
+confessions. What the art needs is some Strindberg of Commerce to put
+down on paper the sordid facts of Life as they really are, and to
+show, in bitter words of cynical realism, that ink erasers are not
+always segregated or vouchers always all that they should be, and
+that, behind the happy exterior of many a mahogany railing, all is not
+so gosh-darned right with the world after all.
+
+Now, without setting myself up as a Strindberg, I would like to start
+the ball rolling toward a more realistic school of business literature
+by setting down in my rough, impulsive way a few of the items in the
+account of "How We Make Our Business Lose $100,000 a Year."
+
+All that I ask in the way of equipment is an illustration showing a
+square-jawed, clean-cut American business man sitting at a desk and
+shaking his finger at another man, very obviously the head of the
+sales department because it says so under the picture, who is standing
+with his thumbs in the arm-holes of his waistcoat, gnawing at a big,
+black cigar, and looking out through the window at the smoke-stacks of
+the works. With this picture as a starter, and a chart or two, I can
+build up a very decent business story around them.
+
+[Illustration: "A square-jawed American business man, etc., shaking
+his finger at another."]
+
+In the first place let me say that what we have done in our business
+any firm can do in theirs. It is not that we have any extraordinary
+talents along organization lines. We simply have taken the lessons
+learned in everyday trading, have tabulated and filed them in
+triplicate. Then we have forgotten them.
+
+I can best give an idea of the secret of our mediocrity as a business
+organization by outlining a typical day in our offices. I do this in
+no spirit of boasting, but simply to show these thousands of
+systematized business men who are devoting themselves to literature
+that somewhere in all this miasma of success there shines a ray of
+inefficiency, giving promise of the day that is to come.
+
+The first part of the morning in our establishment is devoted to the
+mail. This starts the day off right, for it gives every one something
+to do, which is, I have found, a big factor in keeping the place
+looking busy.
+
+Personally I am not what is known as a "snappy" dictator. It makes me
+nervous to have a stenographer sitting there waiting for me to say
+something so that she can pounce on it and tear it into hieroglyphics.
+I feel that, mentally, she is checking me up with other men who have
+dictated to her, and that I am being placed in Class 5a, along with
+the licensed pilots and mental defectives, and the more I think of it
+the more incoherent I become. If exact and detailed notes were to be
+preserved of one of my dictated letters, mental processes, and all,
+they might read something like this:
+
+"Good morning, Miss Kettle.... Take a letter, please ... to the Nipco
+Drop Forge and Tool Company, Schenectady ... S-c-h-e-c--er--well,
+Schenectady; you know how to spell that, I guess, Miss Kettle, ha!
+ha!... Nipco Drop Forge and Tool Company, Schenectady, New York....
+Gentlemen--er (business of touching finger tips and looking at the
+ceiling meditatively)--Your favor of the 17th inst. at hand, and in
+reply would state that--er (I should have thought this letter out
+before beginning to dictate and decided just what it _is_ that we
+desire to state in reply)--and in reply would state that--er ... our
+Mr. Mellish reports that--er ... where is that letter from Mr.
+Mellish, Miss Kettle?... The one about the castings.... Oh, never
+mind, I guess I can remember what he said.... Let's see, where were
+we?... Oh, yes, that our Mr. Mellish reports that he shaw the
+sipment--I mean _saw_ the _shipment_--what's the matter with me? (this
+girl must think that I'm a perfect fool) ... that he shaw the sipment
+in question on the platform of the station at Miller's Falls, and that
+it--er ... ah ... ooom ... (I'll have this girl asleep in her chair in
+a minute. I'll bet that she goes and tells the other girls that she
+has just taken a letter from a man with the mind of an eight-year-old
+boy).... We could, therefore, comma,... what's the matter?... Oh, I
+didn't finish that other sentence, I guess.... Let's see, how did it
+go?... Oh, yes ... and that I, or rather _it_, was in good shape ...
+er, cross that out, please (this girl is simply wasting her time here.
+I could spell this out with alphabet blocks quicker and let her copy
+it) ... and that it was in excellent shape at that shape--er ... or
+rather, at that _time_ ... er ... period. New paragraph.
+
+"We are, comma, therefore, comma, unable to ... hello, Mr. Watterly,
+be right with you in half a second.... I'll finish this later, Miss
+Kettle ... thank you."
+
+When the mail is disposed of we have what is known as Memorandum Hour.
+During this period every one sends memoranda to every one else. If you
+happen to have nothing in particular about which to dictate a
+memorandum, you dictate a memorandum to some one, saying that you have
+nothing to suggest or report. This gives a stimulating exchange of
+ideas, and also helps to use up the blue memorandum blanks which have
+been printed at some expense for just that purpose.
+
+As an example of how this system works, I will give a typical instance
+of its procedure. My partner, let us say, comes in and sits down at
+the desk opposite me. I observe that his scarfpin is working its way
+out from his tie. I call a stenographer and say: "Take a memo to Mr.
+MacFurdle, please. _In re_ Loosened Scarfpin. You are losing your
+scarfpin."
+
+As soon as she has typed this it is given to Mr. MacFurdle's
+secretary, and a carbon copy is put in the files. Mr. MacFurdle, on
+receiving my memo, adjusts his scarfpin and calls his secretary.
+
+"A memo to Mr. Benchley, please. _In re_ Tightened Scarfpin. Thank
+you. I have given the matter my attention."
+
+As soon as I have received a copy of this typewritten reply to my
+memorandum we nod pleasantly to each other and go on with our work. In
+all, not more than half an hour has been consumed, and we have a
+complete record of the negotiations in our files in case any question
+should ever arise concerning them. In case _no_ question should ever
+arise, we still have the complete record. So we can't lose--unless you
+want to call that half hour a loss.
+
+It is then almost lunch time. A quick glance at a pile of carbons of
+mill reports which have but little significance to me owing to the
+fact that the figures are illegible (it being a fifth-string carbon);
+a rapid survey of the matter submitted for my O.K., most of which I
+dislike to take the responsibility for and therefore pass on to Mr.
+Houghtelling for his O.K.; a short tussle in the washroom with the
+liquid-soap container which contains no liquid soap and a thorough
+drying of the hands on my handkerchief, the paper towels having given
+out early in the morning, and I am ready to go to lunch with a man
+from the Eureka Novelty Company who wants to sell us a central
+paste-supply system (whereby all the office paste is kept in one large
+vat in the storeroom, individual brushfuls being taken out only on
+requisitions O.K.'d by the head of the department).
+
+Both being practical business men, we spend only two hours at lunch.
+And, both being practical business men, we know all the subtleties of
+selling. It is a well-known fact that personality plays a big rôle in
+the so-called "selling game" (one of a series of American games, among
+which are "the newspaper game," "the advertising game," "the
+cloak-and-suit game," "the ladies' mackintosh and over-shoe game,"
+"the seedless-raisin and dried-fruit game," etc.), and so Mr. Ganz of
+the Eureka Novelty Company spends the first hour and three-quarters
+developing his "personality appeal." All through the tomato bisque aux
+croutons and the roast prime ribs of beef, dish gravy, he puts into
+practice the principles enunciated in books on Selling, by means of
+which the subject at hand is deferred in a subtle manner until the
+salesman has had a chance to impress his prospect with his geniality
+and his smile (an attractive smile has been known to sell a carload of
+1897 style derbies, according to authorities on The Smile in Selling),
+his knowledge of baseball, his rich fund of stories, and his general
+aversion to getting down to the disagreeable reason for his call.
+
+The only trouble with this system is that I have done the same thing
+myself so many times that I know just what his next line is going to
+be, and can figure out pretty accurately at each stage of his
+conversation just when he is going to shift to one position nearer the
+thing he has to sell. I know that he has not the slightest interest in
+my entertainment other than the sale of a Eureka Central Paste Supply
+System, and he knows that I know it, and so we spend an hour and
+three-quarters fooling the waiter into thinking that we are engaged in
+disinterested camaraderie.
+
+For fifteen minutes we talk business, and I agree to take the matter
+up with the directors at the next meeting, holding the mental
+reservation that a central paste supply system will be installed in
+our plant only over my dead body.
+
+This takes us until two-thirty, and I have to hurry back to a
+conference. We have two kinds of "conference." One is that to which
+the office boy refers when he tells the applicant for a job that Mr.
+Blevitch is "in conference." This means that Mr. Blevitch is in good
+health and reading the paper, but otherwise unoccupied. The other kind
+of "conference" is bona fide in so far as it implies that three or
+four men are talking together in one room, and don't want to be
+disturbed.
+
+This conference is on, let us say, the subject of Window Cards for
+display advertising: shall they be triangular or diamond-shaped?
+
+There are four of us present, and we all begin by biting off the ends
+of four cigars. Watterly has a pile of samples of window cards of
+various shapes, which he hangs, with a great deal of trouble, on the
+wall, and which are not referred to again. He also has a few ideas on
+Window Card Psychology.
+
+"It seems to me," he leads off, "that we have here a very important
+question. On it may depend the success of our Middle Western sales.
+The problem as I see it is this: what will be the reaction on the
+retina of the eye of a prospective customer made by the sight of a
+diamond-shaped card hanging in a window? It is a well-known fact in
+applied psychology that when you take the average man into a darkened
+room, loosen his collar, and shout "Diamonds!" at him suddenly, his
+mental reaction is one in which the ideas of Wealth, Value, Richness,
+etc., predominate. Now, it stands to reason that the visual reaction
+from seeing a diamond-shaped card in the window will...."
+
+[Illustration: "The problem as I see it is this."]
+
+"Excuse me a moment, George," says MacFurdle, who has absorbed some
+pointers on Distribution from a book entitled "The World Salesman," "I
+don't think that it is so important to get after the psychology of the
+thing first as it is to outline thoroughly the Theory of Zone
+Apportionment on which we are going to work. If we could make up a
+chart, showing in red ink the types of retail-stores and in green ink
+the types of jobber establishments, in this district, then we could
+get at the window display from that angle and tackle the psychology
+later, if at all. Now, on such a chart I would try to show the zones
+of Purchasing Power, and from these could be deduced...."
+
+"Just a minute, Harry," Inglesby interrupts, "let me butt in for half
+a second. That chart system is all very well when you are selling
+goods with which the public is already familiar through association
+with other brands, but with ours it is different. We have got to
+estimate the Consumer Demand first in terms of dollar-and-a-quarter
+units, and build our selling organization up around that. Now, if I
+know anything about human nature at all--and I think I do, after being
+in the malleable-iron game for fifteen years--the people in this
+section of the country represent an entirely different trade current
+than...."
+
+At this point I offer a few remarks on one of my pet hobbies, the
+influence of the Gulf Stream on Regional Commerce, and then we all say
+again the same things that we said before, after which we say them
+again, the pitch of the conversation growing higher at each repetition
+of views and the room becoming more and more filled with cigar smoke,
+Our final decision is to have a conference to-morrow afternoon, before
+which each one is to "think the matter over and report his reactions."
+
+This brings the day to a close. There has been nothing remarkable in
+it, as the reader will be the first one to admit. And yet it shows the
+secret of whatever we have not accomplished in the past year in our
+business.
+
+And it also shows why we practical business men have so little
+sympathy with a visionary, impractical arrangement like this League of
+Nations. President Wilson was all right in his way, but he was too
+academic. What we practical men in America want is deeds, not words.
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+TURNING OVER A NEW LEDGER LEAF
+
+
+New Year's morning approximately ninety-two million people in these
+United States will make another stab at keeping personal and household
+accounts for the coming year.
+
+One month from New Year's there will be approximately seventy-three of
+these accountants still in the race (all started). Of these, sixty
+will be groggy but still game and willing to lump the difference
+between the actual balance in their pockets and the theoretical
+balance in the books under the elastic heading "General Expenses" or
+"Incidentals," and start again for February. The remaining thirteen,
+who came out even, will be either professors of accounting in business
+schools or out and out unreliable.
+
+This high mortality rate among amateur accountants is one of the big
+problems of modern household efficiency, and is exceeded in magnitude
+only by the number of schemes devised to simplify household
+accounting. Every domestic magazine, in the midst of its
+autobiographical accounts of unhappy marriages, must needs run a
+chart showing how far a family with an income of $1,500 a year can go
+without getting caught and still put something aside for a canary.
+Every insurance company has had prepared by experts a table of figures
+explaining how, by lumping everything except Rent and Incidentals
+under Luxuries and doing without them, you can save enough from the
+wreckage of $1,200 a year to get in on their special Forty-Year
+Adjournment Policy.
+
+Those publications which cannot get an expert to figure out how much
+you ought to spend per day will publish letters from young housewives
+showing how they made out a budget which in the end brought them in
+more money than they earned and had the grocer and electric light
+company owing them money.
+
+The trouble with all these vicarious budgets is that they presuppose,
+on the part of the user, an ability to add and subtract. They take it
+for granted that you are going to do the thing right. Now, with all
+due respect to our primary and secondary school system, this is
+absurd. Here and there you may find some one who can take a page of
+figures and maul them over so that they will come out right at the
+bottom, but who wants to be a man like that? What fun does he get out
+of life, always sure of what the result is going to be?
+
+As for me, give me the regular method of addition by logic; that is,
+if the result obtained is twelve removed from the result that should
+have been obtained, then, ergo, twelve is the amount by which you have
+miscalculated and it should, therefore, be added or subtracted, as the
+case may be, to or from the actual result somewhere up in the middle
+of the column, so that in the end the thing will balance. And there
+you are, with just the same result as if you had worked for hours over
+the page and quibbled over every little point and figure. There is no
+sense in becoming a slave to numerical signs which in themselves are
+not worth the paper they are written on. It is the imagination that
+one puts into accounting that makes it fascinating. If free verse, why
+not free arithmetic?
+
+It is for the honest ones, who admit that they can't work one of the
+budget systems for the mentally alert, that the accompanying one has
+been devised.
+
+Let us take, for instance, a family whose income is $750,000 a year,
+exclusive of tips. In the family are a father, mother and fox terrier.
+The expenses for such a family come under the head of Liabilities and
+are distributed among six accounts: Food, Lodging, Extras, Extras,
+Incidentals and Extras. For this couple I would advise the following
+system:
+
+Take the contents of the weekly pay envelope, $14,423.08 (if any one
+is mean enough to go and divide $750,000 into fifty-two parts to see
+if I have got it right, he will find that it doesn't quite come to
+eight cents, but you certainly wouldn't have me carry it out to any
+more places. It took me from three yesterday afternoon until after
+dinner to do what I did). Take the contents of the envelope and lay
+them on the kitchen table in little piles, so much for meat, so much
+for eggs, so much for adhesive plaster, etc., until the kitchen table
+is covered. Then sweep it all into a bag and balance your books.
+
+Balancing the books is another point in the ideal system which often
+makes for trouble. Sticklers for form insist that the two sides of the
+page shall come out alike, even at the expense of your self-respect.
+It is the artificiality of this that hurts. No matter how much you
+spend, no matter how much you receive, at the bottom of the page they
+must add up to the same thing, with a double red line underneath them
+to show that the polls are closed.
+
+But since this is the accepted way of doing the thing, we might just
+as well concede the point and lay our plans accordingly. First take
+the sum that you have left over in the household exchequer at the end
+of the mouth. Put it, or its equivalent in check form, on the table in
+front of you. Then, working backward, find out how much you have spent
+since the first of the month. This sum is the crux of the whole
+system. Divide it into as many equal parts as you have accounts. For
+instance, Food, Rent, Clothes, Insurance and Savings, Operating
+Expenses, Higher Life. If you can't divide it so that it comes out
+even, tuck a little bit on the Higher Life account. And, as the
+student of French says," _Voilà_" (there it is)!
+
+Perhaps you have wondered what I meant by "Higher Life." I have. It
+might be well to state it here so that we can all get it clear in our
+minds. Under the "Higher Life" account you can charge everything that
+you want to do, but feel that you can't afford. If you want to take in
+an inconsequential theatrical performance and can't quite square it
+with your conscience, figure it out this way: By going to that show
+you will become so disgusted with the futility of such things that you
+will come out of the theater all aglow with a resolve to do a man's
+work in the world just as soon as you have caught up with your sleep.
+Surely that comes under "Advancement" or "Higher Life."
+
+Insurance budget helps always include under "Advancement" money spent
+for lectures. Now, it may be that I have drifted away from the big
+things in life since I moved out into the country, but somehow I can't
+just at this moment recollect standing in line at a box office for a
+lecture. But then, my home life is very pleasant.
+
+Lectures would be a very convenient heading, nevertheless, to have in
+your budget. Then, any little items that slip your attention during
+the month you can group under lectures and mark off ten paces in your
+advancement chart.
+
+By way of outlining beforehand just what you can spend on this and
+that (and it is usually on "that") it might be well to take another
+family with a representative income. Let us say that there are four in
+the family and that the income is about $1,000 per year too small. If
+such a family would sit down some evening and draw a chart showing
+father's earning capacity with one red line and the family spending
+capacity with one black line, they would not only have a pleasant
+evening, but they would have a nice, neat chart all drawn and suitable
+for framing.
+
+There is one little technical point that the amateur accountant will
+do well to remember. It gives a distinction to the page and shows that
+you are acquainted with bookkeeping lore. It is this: Label your
+debit column "credits" and your credit column "debits." You might
+think that what you receive into the exchequer would be credited and
+your expenses debited, but that is where you miss the whole theory of
+practical accounting. That would be too simple to be efficient. You
+must wax transcendental, and say, "I, as an individuated entity, am
+nothing. Everything is all; all is everything." There is a
+transcendent Account, to which all other accounts are responsible, and
+hence money turned over to the Cinnamon Account is not credited to
+that account, but rather debited to it, for Cinnamon hereby assumes
+the responsibility for the sum. As money is spent for Cinnamon, its
+account is credited, for it is relieved of that responsibility. Don't
+start wondering where the responsibility finally settles or you will
+throw something out of its stride in your brain.
+
+[Illustration: "They would have a nice, neat chart suitable for
+framing."]
+
+Some people profess to scoff at the introduction of bookkeeping into
+the running of the household. It is simply because they never tasted
+the fascination of the thing.
+
+The advantage of keeping family accounts is clear. If you do not keep
+them you are uneasily aware of the fact that you are spending more
+than you are earning. If you do keep them, you know it.
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+A PIECE OF ROAST BEEF
+
+
+Personally, I class roast beef with watercress and vanilla cornstarch
+pudding as tasty articles of diet. It undoubtedly has more than the
+required number of calories; it leans over backward in its eagerness
+to stand high among our best proteins, and, according to a vivid chart
+in the back of the cookbook, it is equal in food value to three dried
+raisins piled one on the other plus peanut-butter the size of an egg.
+
+But for all that I can't seem to feel that I am having a good time
+while I am eating it. It stimulates the same nerve centers in me that
+a lantern-slide lecture on "Palestine--the Old and the New," does.
+
+However, I have noticed that there are people who are not bored by it;
+in fact, I have seen them deliberately order it in a restaurant when
+they had the choice of something else; so I thought that the only fair
+thing I could do would be to look into the matter and see if, in this
+great city, there weren't some different ways of serving roast beef
+to vary its monotony.
+
+Roast beef is not the same price in all eating-places. What makes the
+difference? What does a diner at the Ritz get in his "roast prime ribs
+of beef au jus" that makes it distinctive from the "Special
+to-day--roast beef and mashed potatoes" of the Bowery restaurant?
+
+To answer these questions I started out on a tour of the
+representative eating-places of some of our best known strata of
+society, and, whatever my conclusions are, you may be sure that they
+are thoroughly inexpert.
+
+First, I tried out what is known as the Bay State Lunch, so called
+because on Thursdays they have a fishcake special. It is one of the
+hundreds of "self-serving" lunchrooms, where you approach the marble
+counter and give your order in a low tone to a man in a barber's coat,
+and then repeat it at intervals of one minute, each time louder and
+each time to a different man, until you are forced to point to a tub
+of salmon salad and say, "Some of that," for which your ticket is
+punched and you are allowed to take your portion and nurse it on the
+over-developed arm of a chair.
+
+Here the roast beef shot through the Punch and Judy arrangement in the
+wall, a piece of meat about as large around as a man's-size mitten,
+steeping in its own gravy and of a pale reddish hue. The price was
+twenty cents, which included a dab of mashed potato dished out in an
+ice-cream scoop, a generous allowance of tender peas, two hot
+tea-biscuits and butter to match.
+
+[Illustration: "Considering the basic ingredient, it was a perfectly
+satisfactory meal."]
+
+Considering the basic ingredient, it was a perfectly satisfactory
+meal, and I felt that twenty cents was little enough to pay for it,
+especially since it was going in on my expense account.
+
+For the next experiment I went to a restaurant where business men are
+wont to gather for luncheon, men who pride themselves on their acumen
+and adherence to the principles of efficiency. The place has a French
+name and its menus are printed on a card the size of a life insurance
+company's complimentary calendar, always an ominous sign. The roast
+beef here was served cold, with a plate of escarole salad (when I was
+a boy I used to have to dig escarole out of the front lawn with a
+trowel so that the grass could have a chance) for seventy-five cents.
+
+The meat bulked a little larger than at the Bay State Lunch, but when
+the fat had been cut away and trimmed off the salvage was about the
+size of a boy's mitten. As for the taste, the only difference that I
+could detect was that one had been hot and the other cold.
+
+And, incidentally, the waiter had some bosom friends in the next room
+who fascinated him so that it was all I could do to make him see that
+if he didn't come around to me once in a while, just as a matter of
+form, there would be no way for me to tip him. Beef and salad, plus
+tip, ninety cents.
+
+That evening I ambled up the Bowery until I came to the Busy Home
+Restaurant. On a black-board in front was written, "Roast Beef, Mashed
+Potatoes and Coffee, 10 Cents." My old hunger again seized me. I said
+to myself: "Look here! Be a man! This thing is getting the best of
+you." But before I knew it I was inside and seated at an
+oilcloth-covered table, saying, in a hoarse voice, "Roast beef!"
+
+The waiter was dressed in an informal costume, with his shirt-sleeves
+rolled up and a mulatto apron about his waist, but he smiled genially
+when he took my order and was back with it in two minutes. The article
+itself was of the regulation size, cut somewhat thinner, perhaps, and
+bordering on the gray in hue, but undoubtedly roast beef. It, too, had
+an affinity for its own gravy and hid itself modestly under an
+avalanche of mashed potatoes. A cup of coffee was also included in the
+ten cents' initial expense, but I somehow wasn't coffee-thirsty that
+night, and so didn't sample it. But I did help myself to the plate
+piled high with fresh bread which was left in front of me. All in all,
+it was what I should call a representative roast beef dinner. And I
+got more than ten cents' worth of calories, I know.
+
+But so far I had kept below the Fourteenth Street belt in my
+investigations. Roast beef is a cosmopolitan habit, and knows no
+arbitrary boundaries; so I went uptown. Into one of the larger of our
+largest hotels, one which is not so near the Grand Central Station as
+to be in the train-shed, and yet not so far removed from it as to be
+represented by a different Assemblyman. Here, I felt, would be the
+test. Could roast beef come back? Surrounded by glittering
+chandeliers and rich tapestries, snowy table linen and silver service,
+here was the chance for the ordinary roast beef to become a veritable
+dainty, with some character, some distinctive touch that should lift
+it above all that roast beef has ever meant before. I entered the
+dining-room, in high hopes.
+
+Clad in a walking suit of virile tweed, I considered myself
+respectably dressed. Not ostentatiously respectable, mind you, but,
+since most of the other diners were in evening dress, rather
+_distingué_, I thought.
+
+But apparently the hotel retainers weren't trained to look through a
+rough exterior and find the sterling qualities beneath. They looked
+through my rough exterior all right, but they didn't stop at my
+sterling qualities. They looked right through to the man behind me,
+and gave him the signal that there was a seat for him.
+
+Not to be outdone, however, I got my place in the sun by cleverly
+tripping my rival as he passed me, so that he fell into the fountain
+arrangement, while I sat down in the seat pulled out for him by the
+head waiter. And, once I was in, there was nothing for them to do but
+let me stay.
+
+After I had been there a few minutes a waiter came and put on a fresh
+table cloth. Five minutes later another man placed a knife and spoon
+at my plate. Later in the evening a boy with a basket of rolls
+wandered by and deposited one on my table with a pair of pincers.
+Personally, I was rather glad that it was working out this way, for it
+would make my story all the better, but I might have really been in a
+hurry for my dinner.
+
+It wasn't long, as the crow flies, before one of the third assistant
+waiters unloosened enough to drop round and see if there was anything
+else I wanted besides one roll and a knife and spoon. I looked over
+the menu as if I were in a pretty captious mood, and then, with the
+air of an epicure who has tasted to the dregs all the condiments of
+Arabia and whose jaded palate refuses to thrill any longer, I ordered
+"roast beef."
+
+It was billed as "90 (.80)," which didn't strike me as being very
+steep, considering the overhead expense there must be in keeping
+little knots of waiters and 'bus-boys standing round doing nothing in
+the further corner of the room.
+
+The waiter wasn't very enthusiastic over my order, and something saved
+me from asking him if they threw in "a side" of mashed potatoes with
+the meat. He seemed to expect something more, even after I had ordered
+potatoes, so I suggested an artichoke. That cheered him up more than
+anything I had done that evening, and he really got quite fratty and
+said: "A little salad, sir?" Again I imitated a man who has had more
+experience with salads than any other three men put together and who
+has found them a miserable sham.
+
+[Illustration: "The waiter wasn't very enthusiastic over my order."]
+
+"No; that will be all for now," I said, and turned wearily away. I
+wanted to tell him that I had a dinner coat at home that looked enough
+sight better than his, but there is no use in making a scene when it
+can be avoided.
+
+During the next twenty minutes the orchestra played once and I ate my
+roll. Then the roast beef came.
+
+On a silver platter, with a silver cover, it was placed before me
+under the best possible scenic conditions. But the thing that met my
+gaze when the cover was lifted might just as well have been the same
+property piece of roast beef that was keeping company with a dab of
+mashed potato in the Bay State Lunch. It had a trifle more fat, was
+just a shade pinker, and perhaps a micrometer could have detected a
+bit more bulk; but, so far as I was concerned or so far as the
+calories were concerned, it was the same. I won't say that it was the
+same as the Roast Beef Special of the Bowery Restaurant, because the
+service in the Bowery Restaurant was infinitely better.
+
+As a fitting garniture to such a dish, there was a corsage of
+watercress draped on the corner of the salver. At any rate, it could
+be said for it that it was not intoxicating, and so could never cause
+any real misery in this world.
+
+I nibbled at my roast beef, but my spirit was broken. I had gone
+through a week of self-denial, ordering roast beef when I craved
+edibles, eating at restaurants while my family waited for me at home,
+and here was the result of my researches: Roast beef is roast beef,
+and nothing can prevent it. From the ten-cent order of the Busy Home
+Restaurant, up through to the piece I was then eating, it was the same
+grim reality, the only justification for a difference in price being a
+silver salver or a waiter in a tuxedo.
+
+"But," I said to myself, "eighty cents isn't so much, at that.
+Besides, I have heard the orchestra play one tune every half-hour, and
+have had a kind word from one of the _chargés d'affaires_ of the
+waiter's staff."
+
+This quite reconciled me, until my check was brought. There, added to
+the initial expense of eighty cents, was the upkeep, such as "Cover,
+25c." "Potatoes, 30c." And to this must be added the modest fee of
+twenty cents to the waiter and ten cents to the hat-boy who gave me
+the wrong hat. Total expense for one piece of roast beef, $1.70.
+
+These investigations may not prove to be much of a contribution to
+modern science or economics. I doubt if they are ever incorporated in
+any textbook, even if it should be a textbook on this very subject.
+But I must take credit to myself for one thing: Not once throughout
+the whole report have I alluded to the Tenderloin District.
+
+
+
+
+XII
+
+THE COMMUNITY MASQUE AS A SUBSTITUTE FOR WAR
+
+
+With War and Licker removed from the list of "What's Going on This
+Week," how will mankind spend the long summer evenings? Some advocate
+another war. Others recommend a piece of yeast in a glass of
+grape-juice. The effect is said to be equally devastating.
+
+But there is a new school, led by Percy Mackaye, which brings forward
+a scheme for occupying the spare time of the world which has, at
+least, the savor of novelty. It presents the community masque as a
+substitute for war. Whenever a neighborhood, or county, feels the old
+craving for blood-letting and gas-bombing coming on, a town meeting is
+to be called and plans drawn up for the presentation of a masque
+entitled "Democracy" or "From Chrysalis to Butterfly." In this simple
+way, one and all will be kept out in the open air and will get to know
+each other better, thus relieving their bellicose cravings right there
+on the village green among themselves, without dragging a foreign
+nation into the mess at all. The slogan is "Fight Your Neighbors
+First. Why Go Abroad for War?"
+
+The community masque idea is all right in itself. There certainly can
+be no harm in dressing up to represent the Three Platoon System, or
+the Spirit of Machinery, and reciting free verse to the effect that:
+
+    "I am the Three Platoon System. Firemen I represent,
+     And the clash and clang of the Hook and Ladder Company."
+
+No one could find fault with that, provided that those taking part in
+the thing do so of their own free will and understand what they are
+doing.
+
+The trouble with the community masque is not so much with the masque
+as with the community. For while the masque may be a five star
+sporting extra hot from the presses of Percy Mackaye, the community is
+the same old community that has been getting together for inter-Sunday
+School track-meets and Wig and Footlight Club Amateur Theatricals for
+years and years, and the result has always been the same.
+
+Let us say, for instance, that the community of Wimblehurst begins to
+feel the lack of a good, rousing war to keep the Ladies' Guild and
+the men over thirty-five busy. What could be more natural than to call
+in Mr. Mackaye, and say: "What have you got in the way of a nice
+masque for a suburban district containing many socially possible
+people and others who might do very well in ensemble work?"
+
+Something entitled "The March of Civilization" is selected, because it
+calls for Boy Scout uniforms and a Goddess of Liberty costume, all of
+which are on hand, together with lots of Red Cross regalia, left over
+from the war drives. The plot of the thing concerns the adventures of
+the young girl _Civilization_ who leaves her home in the _Neolithic
+Period_ accompanied only by her faithful old nurse _Language_ and
+_Language's_ little children the _Vowels_ and the _Consonants_. She is
+followed all the way from the Neolithic Age to the Present Time by the
+evil spirit, _Indigestion_, but, thanks to the helpful offices of the
+_Spirits of Capillary Attraction_, and _Indestructibility of Matter_,
+she overcomes all obstacles and reaches her goal, _The League of
+Nations_, at last.
+
+But during the course of her wanderings, there have been all kinds of
+sub-plots which bring the element of suspense into the thing. For
+instance, it seems that this person _Indigestion_ has found out
+something about _Civilization's_ father which gives him the upper
+hand over the girl, and he, together with the two gunmen, _Heat_
+and _Humidity_, arrange all kinds of traps for the poor thing to
+fall into. But she takes counsel with the kind old lady,
+_Self-Determination of Peoples_, and is considerably helped by the low
+comedy character, _Obesity_, who always appears at just the right
+moment. So in the end, there is a big ensemble, involving Boy Scouts,
+representatives of those Allies who happen to be in good standing in
+that particular month, seven boys and girls personifying the twelve
+months of the year, Red Cross workers, the Mayor's Committee of
+Welcome, a selection of Major Prophets, children typifying the ten
+different ways of cooking an egg, and the all-pervading _Spirit of the
+Post-Office Department_, seated on a daïs in the rear and watching
+over the assemblage with kindly eyes and an armful of bricks.
+
+This, then, is in brief outline, "The March of Civilization," selected
+for presentation by the Community Council of Wimblehurst. It is to be
+done on the edge of the woods which line the golf-course, and on
+paper, the thing shapes up rather well.
+
+Considerable hard feeling arises, however, over the choice of the
+children to play the parts of the _Vowels_ and the _Consonants_. It
+is, of course, not possible to have all the vowels and consonants
+represented, as they would clutter up the stage and might prove
+unwieldy in the allegretto passages. A compromise is therefore
+effected by personifying only the more graceful ones, like _S_ and the
+lower-case _f_, and this means that a certain discrimination must be
+used in selecting the actors. It also means that a great many little
+girls are going to be disappointed and their mothers' feelings
+outraged.
+
+Little Alice Withstanley is chosen to play the part of the _Craft
+Guild Movement in Industry_, showing the rise of coöperation and unity
+among the working-classes. She is chosen because she has blonde hair
+which can be arranged in braids down her back, obviously essential to
+a proper representation of industrial team-work as a moving force in
+the world's progress. It so happens, however, that the daughter of the
+man who is cast for _Humidity_ has had her eyes on this ingénue part
+ever since the printed text was circulated and had virtually been
+promised it by the Head of the House Committee of the Country Club,
+through whose kindness the grounds were to be used for the
+performance. There is a heated discussion over the merits of the two
+contestants between Mrs. Withstanley and the mother of the betrayed
+girl, which results in the withdrawal of the latter's offer to
+furnish Turkish rugs for the Oriental Decadence scene.
+
+[Illustration: "There is a heated discussion between Mrs. Withstanley
+and the mother of the betrayed girl."]
+
+Following this, the rougher element of the community--enlisted to take
+part in the scenes showing the building of the Pyramids and the first
+Battle of Bull Run--appear at one of the early rehearsals in a state
+of bolshevik upheaval, protesting against the unjust ruling which
+makes them attend all rehearsals and wait around on the side hill
+until their scenes are on, keeping them inactive sometimes from two to
+three hours, according to the finish with which the principals get
+through the prologue and opening scenes showing the Creation. The
+proletariat present an ultimatum, saying that the Committee in charge
+can either shorten their waiting hours or remove the restrictions on
+crap-shooting on the side-hill during their periods of inaction.
+
+There is a meeting of the Director and his assistants who elect a
+delegation to confer with the striking legionaries, with the result
+that no compromise is reached, the soviet withdraws from the masque in
+a body, threatening to set fire to the grass on the first night of the
+performance.
+
+During the rehearsals the husband of the woman who is portraying
+_Winter Wheat_ is found wandering along the brookside with her sister
+cereal _Spring Wheat_, which, of course, makes further polite
+coöperation between these two staples impossible, and the Dance of the
+Food Stuffs has to be abandoned at the last moment. This adds to the
+general tension.
+
+Three nights before the first performance the Director calls every one
+to a meeting in the trophy room of the Club-house and says that, so
+far as he is concerned, the show is off. He has given up his time to
+come out here, night after night, in an attempt to put on a masque
+that will be a credit to the community and a significant event in the
+world of art, and what has he found? Indifference, irresponsibility,
+lack of coöperation, non-attendance at rehearsals, and a spirit of
+_laissez-faire_ in the face of which it is impossible to produce a
+successful masque. Consideration for his own reputation, as well as
+that of the township, makes it necessary for him to throw the whole
+thing over, here and now.
+
+[Illustration: "The audience is composed chiefly of the aged and the
+infirm."]
+
+The Chairman of the Committee then gets up and cries a little, and
+says that he is sure that if every one agrees to pull together during
+these last three days and to attend rehearsals faithfully and to try
+to get plenty of sleep, Mr. Parsleigh, the coach, will consent to help
+them through with the performance, and he asks every one who is
+willing to coöperate to say "Aye." Every one says "Aye" and Mr.
+Parsleigh is won over.
+
+As for the masque itself, it is given, of course; and as most of the
+able-bodied people of the community are taking part, the audience is
+composed chiefly of the aged and the infirm, who catch muscular
+rheumatism from sitting out-of-doors and are greatly bored, except
+during those scenes when their relatives are taking part. The masque
+is hailed as a great success, however, in spite of the fact that the
+community has been disrupted and social life made impossible until the
+next generation grows up and agrees to let bygones be bygones.
+
+But as a substitute for war, it has no equal.
+
+
+
+
+XIII
+
+CALL FOR MR. KENWORTHY!
+
+
+A great many people have wondered to themselves, in print, just where
+the little black laundry-studs go after they have been yanked from the
+shirt. Others pass this by as inconsequential, but are concerned over
+the ultimate disposition of all the pencil stubs that are thrown away.
+Such futile rumination is all well enough for those who like it. As
+for me, give me a big, throbbing question like this: "Who are the
+people that one hears being paged in hotels? Are they real people or
+are they decoys? And if they are real people, what are they being
+paged for?"
+
+Now, there's something vital to figure out. And the best of it is that
+it _can_ be figured out by the simple process of following the page to
+see whether he ever finds any one.
+
+In order that no expense should be spared, I picked out a hotel with
+poor service, which means that it was an expensive hotel. It was so
+expensive that all you could hear was the page's voice as he walked
+by you; his footfalls made no noise in the extra heavy Bokhara. It was
+just a mingling of floating voices, calling for "Mr. Bla-bla, Mr.
+Schwer-a-a, Mr. Twa-a-a."
+
+Out of this wealth of experimental material I picked a boy with a
+discouraged voice like Wallace Eddinger's, who seemed to be saying
+"I'm calling these names--because that's my job--if I wasn't calling
+these--I'd be calling out cash totals in an honor system lunchery--but
+if any one should ever answer to one of these names--I'd have a poor
+spell."
+
+Allowing about fifteen feet distance between us for appearance's sake,
+I followed him through the lobby. He had a bunch of slips in his hand
+and from these he read the names of the pagees.
+
+"Call for Mr. Kenworthy--Mr. Shriner--Mr. Bodkin--Mr. Blevitch--Mr.
+Kenworthy--Mr. Bodkin--Mr. Kenworthy--Mr. Shriner--call for Mr.
+Kenworthy--Mr. Blevitch--Mr. Kenworthy."
+
+Mr. Kenworthy seemed to be standing about a 20 per cent better chance
+of being located than any of the other contestants. Probably the boy
+was of a romantic temperament and liked the name. Sometimes that was
+the only name he would call for mile upon mile. It occurred to me that
+perhaps Mr. Kenworthy was the only one wanted, and that the other
+names were just put in to make it harder, or to give body to the
+thing.
+
+[Illustration: "Sometimes that was the only name he would call for
+mile upon mile."]
+
+But when we entered the bar the youth shifted his attack. The name of
+Kenworthy evidently had begun to cloy. He was fed up on romance and
+wanted something substantial, homely, perhaps, but substantial.
+
+So he dropped Kenworthy and called: "Mr. Blevitch. Call for Mr.
+Blevitch--Mr. Shriner--Mr. Bodkin--Mr. Blevitch--"
+
+But even this subtle change of tactics failed to net him a customer.
+We had gone through the main lobby, along the narrow passage lined
+with young men waiting on sofas for young women who would be forty
+minutes late, through the grill, and now had crossed the bar, and no
+one had raised even an eyebrow. No wonder the boy's voice sounded
+discouraged.
+
+As we went through one of the lesser dining-rooms, the dining-room
+that seats a lot of heavy men in business suits holding cigarettes,
+who lean over their plates the more confidentially to converse with
+their blond partners, in this dining-room the plaintive call drew
+fire. One of the men in business suits, who was at a table with
+another man and two women, lifted his head when he heard the sound of
+names being called.
+
+"Boy!" he said, and waved like a traffic officer signaling, "Come!"
+
+Eagerly the page darted forward. Perhaps this was Mr. Kenworthy! Or
+better yet, Mr. Blevitch.
+
+[Illustration: "Anything here for Studz?"]
+
+"Anything here for Studz?" said the man in the business suit, when he
+was sure that enough people were listening.
+
+"No, sir," sighed the boy. "Mr. Blevitch, Mr. Kenworthy, Mr. Shriner,
+Mr. Bodkin?" he suggested, hopefully.
+
+"Naw," replied the man, and turned to his associates with an air of
+saying: "Rotten service here--just think of it, no call for me!"
+
+On we went again. The boy was plainly skeptical. He read his lines
+without feeling. The management had led him into this; all he could do
+was to take it with as good grace as possible.
+
+He slid past the coat-room girl at the exit (no small accomplishment
+in itself) and down a corridor, disappearing through a swinging door
+at the end. I was in no mood to lose out on the finish after following
+so far, and I dashed after him.
+
+The door led into a little alcove and another palpitating door at the
+opposite end showed me where he had gone. Setting my jaw for no
+particular reason, I pushed my way through.
+
+At first, like the poor olive merchant in the Arabian Nights I was
+blinded by the glare of lights and the glitter of glass and silver.
+Oh, yes, and by the snowy whiteness of the napery, too. "By the napery
+of the neck" wouldn't be a bad line to get off a little later in the
+story. I'll try it.
+
+At any rate, it was but the work of a minute for me to realize that I
+had entered by a service entrance into the grand dining-room of the
+establishment, where, if you are not in evening dress, you are left to
+munch bread and butter until you starve to death and are carried out
+with your heels dragging, like the uncouth lout that you are. It was,
+if I may be allowed the phrase, a galaxy of beauty, with every one
+dressed up like the pictures. And I had entered 'way up front, by the
+orchestra.
+
+Now, mind you, I am not ashamed of my gray suit. I like it, and my
+wife says that I haven't had anything so becoming for a long time. But
+in it I didn't check up very strong against the rest of the boys in
+the dining-room. As a gray suit it is above reproach. As a garment in
+which to appear single-handed through a trapdoor before a dining-room
+of well dressed Middle Westerners it was a fizzle from start to
+finish. Add to this the items that I had to snatch a brown soft hat
+from my head when I found out where I was, which caused me to drop the
+three evening papers I had tucked under my arm, and you will see why
+my up-stage entrance was the signal for the impressive raising of
+several dozen eyebrows, and why the captain approached me just exactly
+as one man approaches another when he is going to throw him out.
+
+(Blank space for insertion of "napery of neck" line, if desired.
+Choice optional with reader.)
+
+I saw that anything that I might say would be used against me, and
+left him to read the papers I had dropped. One only lowers one's self
+by having words with a servitor.
+
+Gradually I worked my way back through the swinging doors to the main
+corridor and rushed down to the regular entrance of the grand
+dining-salon, to wait there until my quarry should emerge. Suppose he
+should find all of his consignees in this dining-room! I could not be
+in at the death then, and would have to falsify my story to make any
+kind of ending at all. And that would never do.
+
+Once in a while I would catch the scent, when, from the humming depths
+of the dining-room, I could hear a faint "Call for Mr. Kenworthy"
+rising above the click of the oyster shells and the soft crackling of
+the "potatoes Julienne" one against another. So I knew that he had not
+failed me, and that if I had faith and waited long enough he would
+come back.
+
+And, sure enough, come back he did, and without a name lost from his
+list. I felt like cheering when I saw his head bobbing through the
+mêlée of waiters and 'bus-boys who were busy putting clean plates on
+the tables and then taking them off again in eight seconds to make
+room for more clean plates. Of all discouraging existences I can
+imagine none worse than that of an eternally clean plate. There can be
+no sense of accomplishment, no glow of duty done, in simply being
+placed before a man and then taken away again. It must be almost as
+bad as paging a man who you are sure is not in the hotel.
+
+The futility of the thing had already got on the page's nerves, and in
+a savage attempt to wring a little pleasure out of the task he took to
+welding the names, grafting a syllable of one to a syllable of
+another, such as "Call for Mr. Kenbodkin--Mr. Shrineworthy--Mr.
+Blevitcher."
+
+This gave us both amusement for a little while, but your combinations
+are limited in a thing like that, and by the time the grill was
+reached he was saying the names correctly and with a little more
+assurance.
+
+It was in the grill that the happy event took place. Mr. Shriner, the
+one of whom we expected least, suddenly turned up at a table alone. He
+was a quiet man and not at all worked up over his unexpected honor. He
+signaled the boy with one hand and went on taking soup with the other,
+and learned, without emotion, that he was wanted on the telephone. He
+even made no move to leave his meal to answer the call, and when last
+seen he was adding pepper with one hand and taking soup with the
+other. I suspect that he was a "plant," or a plain-clothes house
+detective, placed there on purpose to deceive me.
+
+We had been to every nook of the hotel by this time, except the
+writing-room, and, of course, no one would ever look there for patrons
+of the hotel. Seeing that the boy was about to totter, I went up and
+spoke to him. He continued to totter, thinking, perhaps, that I was
+Mr. Kenworthy, his long-lost beau-ideal. But I spoke kindly to him and
+offered him a piece of chocolate almond-bar, and soon, in true
+reporter fashion, had wormed his secret from him before he knew what I
+was really after.
+
+The thing I wanted to find out was, of course, just what the average
+is of replies to one paging trip. So I got around it in this manner:
+offering him another piece of chocolate almond-bar, I said, slyly:
+"Just what is the average number of replies to one paging trip?"
+
+I think that he had suspected something at first, but this question
+completely disarmed him, and, leaning against an elderly lady patron,
+he told me everything.
+
+"Well," he said, "it's this way: sometimes I find a man, and sometimes
+I can go the rounds without a bite. To-night, for instance, here I've
+got four names and one came across. That's about the average--perhaps
+one in six."
+
+I asked him why he had given Mr. Kenworthy such a handicap at the
+start.
+
+A faint smile flickered across his face and then flickered back again.
+
+"I call the names I think will be apt to hang round in the part of the
+hotel I'm in. Mr. Kenworthy would have to be in the dressy dining-room
+or in the lobby where they wait for ladies. You'd never find him in
+the bar or the Turkish baths. On the other hand, you'll never find a
+man by the name of Blevitch anywhere except in the bar. Of course, I
+take a chance and call every name once in so often, no matter where I
+am, but, on the whole, I uses my own discretion."
+
+I gave him another piece of chocolate and the address of a good
+bootmaker and left him. What I had heard had sobered me, and the
+lights and music suddenly seemed garish. It is no weak emotion to feel
+that you have been face to face with a mere boy whose chances of
+success in his work are one to six.
+
+And I found that he had not painted the lily in too glowing terms. I
+followed other pages that night--some calling for "Mr. Strudel," some
+for "Mr. Carmickle," and one was broad-minded enough to page a "Mrs.
+Bemis." But they all came back with that wan look in their eyes and a
+break in their voices.
+
+And each one of them was stopped by the man in the business suit in
+the downstairs dining-room and each time he considered it a personal
+affront that there wasn't a call for "Studz."
+
+Some time I'm going to have him paged, and when he comes out I shall
+untie his necktie for him.
+
+
+
+
+XIV
+
+FOOTBALL; COURTESY OF MR. MORSE
+
+
+Sunday morning these fine fall days are taken up with reading about
+the "40,000 football enthusiasts" or the "gaily-bedecked crowd of
+60,000 that watched the game on Saturday." And so they probably did,
+unless there were enough men in big fur coats who jumped up at every
+play and yelled "Now we're off!" thus obstructing the view of an
+appreciable percentage.
+
+But why stop at the mention of the paltry 50,000 who sat in the Bowl
+or the Stadium? Why forget the twice 50,000 all over the country, in
+Chicago, St. Louis, San Francisco, Atlanta, who watched the same game
+over the ticker, or sat in a smoke-fogged room listening to
+telegraphic announcements, play by play, or who even stood on the
+curbing in front of a newspaper office and watched an impartial
+employee shove a little yellow ball along a black-board, usually
+indicating the direction in which the real football was _not_ going.
+Since it is so important to give the exact number of people who saw
+the game, why not do the thing up right and say: "Returns which are
+now coming in from the Middle West, with some of the rural districts
+still to be heard from, indicate that at least 145,566 people watched
+the Yale-Princeton football game yesterday. Secretary Dinwoodie of the
+San Francisco Yale Club telegraphed late last night that the final
+count in that city would probably swell the total to a round 150,395.
+This is, or will be, the largest crowd that ever assembled in one
+country to watch a football game."
+
+And watching the game in this vicarious manner isn't so bad as the
+fellow who has got tickets and carfare to the real game would like to
+have it. You are in a warm room, where you can stretch your legs and
+regulate your remarks to the intensity of your emotions rather than to
+the sex of your neighbors. And as for thrills! "Dramatic suspense" was
+probably first used as a term in connection with this indoor sport.
+
+The scene is usually some college club in the city--a big room full of
+smoke and graduates. At one end is a scoreboard and miniature
+gridiron, along which a colored counter is moved as the telegraph
+behind the board clicks off the plays hot from the real gridiron.
+There is also an announcer, who, by way of clarifying the message
+depicted on the board, reads the wrong telegram in a loud, clear
+tone.
+
+Just as the crowd in the football arena are crouching down in their
+fur coats the better to avoid watching the home team fumble the
+kick-off, the crowds two and ten hundred miles away are settling back
+in their chairs and lighting up the old pipes, while the
+German-silver-tongued announcer steps to the front of the platform and
+delivers the following:
+
+"Yale won the toss and chose to defend the south goal, Princeton
+taking the west."
+
+This mistake elicits much laughter, and a witty graduate who has just
+had lunch wants to know, as one man to the rest of the house, if it is
+puss-in-the-corner that is being played.
+
+The instrument behind the board goes "Tick-ity-tick-tick-tickity."
+
+There is a hush, broken only by the witty graduate, who, encouraged by
+his first success, wants to know again if it is puss-in-the-corner
+that is being played. This fails to gain.
+
+"Gilblick catches the kick-off and runs the ball back to his own
+3-yard line, where he is downed in his tracks," comes the
+announcement.
+
+There is a murmur of incredulity at this. The little ball on the board
+shoots to the middle of the field.
+
+"Hey, how about that?" shout several precincts.
+
+The announcer steps forward again.
+
+"That was the wrong announcement," he admits. "Tweedy caught the
+kick-off and ran the ball back twenty-five yards to midfield, where he
+is thrown for a loss. On the next play there was a forward pass, Klung
+to Breakwater, which--"
+
+Here the message stops. Intense excitement.
+
+"Tickity-tickity-tick-tickity."
+
+The man who has $5 on the game shuts his eyes and says to his
+neighbor: "I'll bet it was intercepted."
+
+A wait of two triple-space minutes while the announcer winds his
+watch. Then he steps forward. There is a noisy hush.
+
+"It is estimated that 50,000 people filed into the Palmer Stadium
+to-day to watch Yale and Princeton in their annual gridiron contest,"
+he reads. "Yale took the field at five minutes of 2, and was greeted
+by salvos and applause and cheering from the Yale section. A minute
+later the Princeton team appeared, and this was a signal for the
+Princeton cohorts to rise as one man and give vent to their famous
+'Undertaker's Song.'"
+
+"How about that forward pass?" This, as one man, from the audience.
+
+The ball quivers and starts to go down the field. A mighty shout goes
+up. Then something happens, and the ball stops, looks, listens and
+turns in the other direction. Loud groans. A wooden slide in the
+mechanism of the scoreboard rattles into place, upside down. Agile
+spectators figure out that it says "Pass failed."
+
+Every one then sinks back and says, "They ought not to have tried
+that." If the quarterback could hear the graduates' do-or-die backing
+of their team at this juncture he would trot into the locker building
+then and there.
+
+Again the clear voice from the platform:
+
+"Tweedy punts--" (noisy bond-salesman in back of room stands up on a
+chair and yells "Yea!" and is told to "Shut up" by three or four dozen
+neighbors) "to Gumble on his 15-yard line. Gumble fumbles."
+
+The noisy bond-salesman tries to lead a cheer but is prevented.
+
+Frightful tension follows. Who recovered? Whose ball is it? On what
+line? Wet palms are pressed against trouser legs. How about it?
+
+"Tick-tickity-tick-tickity-tickity-tickity."
+
+You can hear the announcer's boots squeak as he steps forward.
+
+"Mr. A.T. Blevitch is wanted on the telephone," he enunciates.
+
+Mr. A.T. Blevitch becomes the most unpopular man in that section of
+the country. Every one turns to see what a man of his stamp can look
+like. He is so embarrassed that he slinks down in his seat and refuses
+to answer the call.
+
+[Illustration: "Noisy bond-salesman in back of room stands up on chair
+and yells 'Yea!'"]
+
+"Klung goes around right end for a gain of two yards," is the next
+message from the front.
+
+The bond-salesman shouts "Yea!"
+
+"How about that fumble?" shouts every one else.
+
+The announcer goes behind the scenes to talk it over with the man who
+works the Punch-and-Judy, and emerges, smiling.
+
+"In the play preceding the one just announced," he says, "Gumble
+fumbled and the ball was recovered by Breakwater, who ran ten yards
+for a touchdown--"
+
+Pandemonium! The bond-salesman leads himself in a cheer. The witty man
+says, "Nothing to it."
+
+There is comparative quiet again, and every one lights up the old
+pipes that have gone out.
+
+The announcer steps forward with his hand raised as if to regulate
+traffic.
+
+"There was a mistake in the announcement just made," he says
+pleasantly. "In place of 'touchdown' read 'touchback.' The ball is now
+in play on the 20-yard line, and Kleenwell has just gone through
+center for three yards."
+
+By this time no one in the audience has any definite idea of where the
+ball is or who has it. On the board it is hovering between midfield
+and second base.
+
+"On the next play Legly punts--"
+
+"Block that punt! Block that punt!" warns the bond-salesman, as if it
+were the announcer who was opposing Legly.
+
+"Sit down, you poor fish!" is the consensus of opinion.
+
+"Legly punts to Klung on the latter's 25-yard line, where the first
+period ends."
+
+And so it goes throughout the game; the announcer calling out gains
+and the dummy football registering corresponding losses; Messrs. A.T.
+Blevitch and L.H. Yank being wanted on the telephone in the middle of
+forward passes; the noisy person in the back of the room yelling "Yea"
+on the slightest provocation and being hushed up at each outbreak; and
+every one wondering what the quarterback meant by calling for the
+plays he did.
+
+In smaller cities, where only a few are gathered together to hear the
+results, things are not done on such an elaborate scale. The dummy
+gridiron and the dummy announcer are done away with and the ten or a
+dozen rooters cluster about the news ticker, most of them with the
+intention of watching for just a few minutes and then going home or
+back to the office. And they always wait for just one more play,
+shifting from one foot to the other, until the game is over.
+
+About a ticker only the three or four lucky ones can see the tape. The
+rest have to stand on tip-toe and peer over the shoulders of the man
+in front. They don't care. Some one will always read the results
+aloud, just as a woman will read aloud the cut-ins at the movies. The
+one who is doing the reading usually throws in little advance
+predictions of his own when the news is slow in coming, with the
+result that those in the back get the impression that the team has at
+least a "varied attack," effecting at times a field goal and a forward
+pass in the same play.
+
+A critical period in the game, as it comes dribbling in over the
+ticker, looks something like this:
+
+    YALE.PRINCTON.GAME....CHEKFMKL.......KLUNG.GOES.
+    AROUND.LEFT.END.FOR.A.GAIN.OF.YDS.....A.FORWARD.
+    PASS.TWEEDY.TO.KLUNG.NETS.....
+    (Ticker stops ticking).
+
+Murmurs of "Come on, there, whasser matter?"
+
+Some one suggests that the pass was illegal and that the whole team
+has been arrested.
+
+The ticker clears its throat. Br-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r
+
+The ticker stabs off a line of dots and begins:
+
+    "BOWIE.FIRST.RACE..MEASLES. FIRST..13.60..AND..
+     6.00.WHORTLEBERRY.SCND.PLACE.3.80..EMMA GOLDMAN,
+     THIRD..TIME.1.09.4.5.NON.START.PROCRASTINATION.
+     UNCLE TOM'S CABIN"
+
+A few choice remarks are passed in the privacy of the little circle,
+to just the effect that you would suspect.
+
+A newcomer elbows his way in and says: "What's the good word? Any
+score yet?" and some one replies: "Yes. The score now stands 206 to 0
+in favor of Notre Dame." This grim pleasantry is expressive of the
+sentiment of the group toward newcomers. It is each man for himself
+now.
+
+Br-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r!
+
+"Here she comes, now!" whispers the man who is hanging over the glass
+news terminal, reading aloud: "Yale-Princeton-Game-Second Quarter
+(Good-night, what became of that forward pass in the first quarter?)
+Yale's-ball-in-mid-field-Hornung-takes-ball-around-left-end-making-it¯
+first-down-Tinfoil-drops-back-for-a-try-at-a-field-goal.
+(Oh, boy! Come on, now!)"
+
+"Why the deuce do they try a field goal on the first down?" asks a
+querulous graduate-strategist. "Now, what he ought to do is to keep
+a-plugging there at tackle, where he has been going--"
+
+Br-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r!
+
+"Bet he missed it!" offers some one with vague gambling instincts.
+
+    "..INS.NEEDLES..1-1/4..ZINC..CON..4-1/2..WASHN..
+     THE CENSUS.OFFICE.ESTIMATES.THE CONSUMPTION.OF
+     COTTON.WASTE.IN.THE.MFGR.OF.AUTOMBLE.HOODS.AS.
+     66.991.059 LBS..INCLUDING.LINTERS.AND.HULL FIBER.."
+
+And just then some one comes in from the outside, all fresh and
+disagreeably cheery, and wants to know what the score is and if there
+have been many forward passes tried and who is playing quarter for
+Yale, and if any one has got a cigarette.
+
+It is really just the same sort of program as obtains in the big
+college club, only on a small scale. They are all watching the same
+game and they are all wishing the same thing and before their
+respective minds' eyes is the picture of the same stadium, with the
+swarm of queen bees and drones clinging to its sides. And every time
+that you, who are one of the cold and lucky ones with a real ticket,
+see a back break loose for a long run and hear the explosion of hoarse
+shouts that follows, you may count sixty and then listen to hear the
+echo from every big city in the country where the old boys have just
+got the news.
+
+
+
+
+XV
+
+A LITTLE DEBIT IN YOUR TONNEAU
+
+
+Motorists, as a class, are not averse to public discussion of their
+troubles. In fact, one often wonders how some of them ever get time to
+operate their cars, so tied up do they seem to be with these little
+experience-meetings, at which one man tells, with appropriate
+gestures, how he ran out of gas between Springfield and Worcester,
+while another gives a perfect bit of character acting to show just how
+the policeman on the outskirts of Trenton behaved.
+
+But there seems to be one phase of the motorist's trials which he
+never bares to the public. He will confide to you just how bad the
+gasoline was that he bought at the country garage; he will make it an
+open secret that he had four blow-outs on the way home from the
+country-club; but of one of his most poignant sorrows he never speaks.
+I refer to the guests who snuggle in his tonneau.
+
+Probably more irritations have arisen from the tonneau than from the
+tires, day in and day out, and yet you never hear a man say, "Well, I
+certainly had an unholy crew of camp-followers out with me
+to-day--friends of my wife." Say what you will, there is an innate
+delicacy in the average motorist, or such repression could not be.
+
+Consider the types of tonneau guests. They are as generic and
+fundamental as the spectrum and you will find them in Maine and New
+Mexico at the same time.
+
+There is the first, or major, classification, which may be designated
+as the Financially Paralyzed. Persons in this class, on stepping into
+your machine, automatically transfer all their money troubles to you.
+You become, for the duration of the ride, whether it be to the next
+corner or to Palm Beach, their financial guardian, and any little
+purchases which are incidental to the trip (such as three meals a day)
+belong to your list of running expenses. There seems to be something
+about the motion of the automobile that inhibits their ability to
+reach for their purses, and they become, if you want to be poetical
+about it, like clay in the hands of the potter. Whither thou goest
+they will go; thy check-book is their check-book. It is just like the
+one great, big, jolly family--of which you are the father and backer.
+
+Such people always make a great to-do about starting off on a trip.
+You call for them and they appear at the window and wave, to signify
+that they see you, and go through motions to show that just as soon as
+Clara has put on her leggings they will be down. Soon they appear,
+swathed in a tremendous quantity of motor wraps and veils (you can
+usually tell the guests in a car by the number of head-veils they
+wear) and get halfway down the walk, when Clara remembers her
+rain-coat and has to swish back upstairs, veils and all. Out again,
+and just as they get wedged into the tonneau, the elderly guest
+wonders if there is time for some one to run in again and tell Helma
+that if the Salvation Army man comes for the old magazines she is to
+tell him to come again to-morrow. By the time this message is relayed
+to Helma Garcia one solid half-hour has been dissipated from the cream
+of the morning. This does not prevent the guests from remarking, as
+the motor starts, that it certainly is a heavenly day and that it
+couldn't have been better if it had been ordered. Knowing the type,
+you can say to yourself that if the day _had_ been ordered you know
+who would have had to give the order and pay the check.
+
+From that time on, you are the moneyed interest behind the venture.
+Meals at road-houses, toll charges, evening papers, hot chocolates at
+the country drug store, hair net for Clara, and, of course, a liberal
+injection of gasoline on the way home, all of these items and about
+fourteen others come in your bailiwick. The guests have been asked out
+for a ride, and "findings is keepings." If you have money enough to
+run a car, you probably have money enough to support them for a day or
+so. That's only fair, isn't it?
+
+[Illustration: "He always has a quip to snap at you to keep you
+cheered up."]
+
+Under a sub-head (a), in this same category, come the guests who are
+stricken with _rigor mortis_ when there are any repairs to be made
+about the machine. Male offenders in this line are, of course, the
+only ones that can be dealt with here; putting on a tire is no job for
+women and children. But the man who is the life of the party in the
+tonneau throughout the trip, who thinks nothing of climbing all over
+the back of the car in imitation of a Roman charioteer, will suddenly
+become an advocate of the basic eight-hour working day which began
+just eight hours before, whenever there is a man's work to be done on
+one of the tires. He will watch you while you work, and always has a
+good word to say or a quip to snap at you to keep you cheered up, but
+when it comes to taking off his coat and lending a hand at the jack he
+is an Oriental incense-holder on the guest-room mantel. He admits in
+no uncertain tones, that he is a perfect dub when it comes to handling
+machinery and that he is more apt to be in the way at a time like this
+than not. And maybe he is right, after all.
+
+We next come to the class of tonneau-freight who are great believers
+in what Professor Muensterberg called "Auto-Suggestion." These people,
+although not seated in the driver's seat, have their own ideas on
+driving and spare no pains to put their theories in the form of
+suggestions. In justice to the Great Army of the Unemployed known as
+"guests" it must be admitted that a large percentage of these
+suggestions emanate from some member of the owner's family and not
+from outsiders. It is very often Mrs. Wife who is off-side in this
+play, but as she is usually in the tonneau, she comes under the same
+classification.
+
+There are various ways of framing suggestions to the driver from the
+back seat. They are all equally annoying. Among the best are:
+
+"For heaven's sake, George, turn in a little. There is a car behind
+that wants to pass us."
+
+"Look out where you're going, Stan."
+
+"Henry, if you don't slow down I'm going to get out and take the train
+back home."
+
+[Illustration: "If this is accompanied with a clutching gesture at the
+driver's arm, it is sure to throw him into a good humor."]
+
+If this is accompanied by a clutching gesture at the driver's arm it
+is sure to throw him into a good humor for the rest of the trip, so
+that a good time will be had by all present.
+
+Although guests are not so prone to make suggestions on the running of
+the car as are those who, through the safety of family connection, may
+do so without fear of bodily assault from the driver, nevertheless, a
+guest may, according to the code, lean over the back of the seat and
+slip little hints as to the route. Especially if one of them be
+entrusted with a Blue Book does this form of auto-suggestion become
+chronic.
+
+"It says here that we should have taken that road to the right back
+there by the Soldiers' Monument," informs the reader over your
+shoulder. Or--
+
+"Somehow this doesn't seem like the right road. Personally, I think
+that we ought to turn around and go back to the cross-roads."
+
+If it is Mrs. Wife in the tonneau who has her own ideas on the route,
+you might as well give in at her first suggestion, for the risk that
+she is right is too great to run. If she says that she would advise
+taking the lane that runs around behind that school-house, take it.
+Then, if it turns out to be a blind alley, you have the satisfaction
+of saying nothing, very eloquently and effectively. But if you refuse
+to take her suggestion, and your road turns out to be even halfway
+wrong, you might as well turn the wheel over to your little son and go
+South for the winter, for you will never hear the ultimate cry of
+triumph. Your season will practically be ruined. I can quote verbatim
+from the last affair of this kind:
+
+(Voice from the tonneau): "Albert, I think we ought to have taken the
+road at the left."
+
+"No, we hadn't."
+
+"I'm sure of it. I saw a sign which said: 'Paxton' on it."
+
+"No, you didn't."
+
+"Well, you wait and see."
+
+"I'm waiting."
+
+There is a silence for ten minutes, while the car jounces along a road
+which gets narrower and rockier.
+
+(Voice from the tonneau): "I suppose you think this is the way to
+Paxton?"
+
+"I certainly _do_."
+
+"Oh, you make me sick!"
+
+Silence and jounces.
+
+Sudden stop as the road ends at a silo.
+
+"I beg your pardon [addressed to a rustic], which is the road to
+Paxton?"
+
+"Paxton?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"The road to Paxton?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, you go back over the rud you just come over, about three mile,
+till you come to a rud turnin' off to the right with a sign which says
+'Paxton.'"
+
+(Voice from the tonneau, beginning at this point and continuing all of
+the way back, all the rest of the day and night, and until snow
+falls): "_There!_ what did I tell you? But, oh no, you know it all.
+Didn't I tell you"--etc., etc.
+
+On the whole, it would seem that the artists who draw the automobile
+advertisements make a mistake in drawing the tonneau so roomy and so
+full of people. There should be no tonneau.
+
+
+
+
+XVI
+
+A ROMANCE IN ENCYCLOPÆDIA LAND
+
+_Written After Three Hours' Browsing in a New Britannica Set_
+
+
+Picture to yourself an early spring afternoon along the banks of the
+river Aa, which, rising in the Teutoburger Wald, joins the Werre at
+Herford and is navigable as far as St. Omer.
+
+Branching _bryophytu_ spread their flat, dorsi-ventral bodies, closely
+applied to the sub-stratum on which they grew, and leafy carophyllaceæ
+twined their sepals in prodigal profusion, lending a touch of color to
+the scene. It was clear that nature was in preparation for her
+estivation.
+
+[Illustration: "Was playing softly to himself on a double curtail or
+converted bass-pommer."]
+
+But it was not this which attracted the eye of the young man who,
+walking along the phonolithic formation of the river-bank, was playing
+softly to himself on a double curtail, or converted bass-pommer, an
+octave below the single curtail and therefore identical in pitch and
+construction with the early _fagotto_ in C.
+
+His mind was on other things.
+
+He was evidently of Melanochronic extraction, with the pentagonal
+facial angle and strong obital ridges, but he combined with this the
+fine lines of a full-blooded native of Coll, where, indeed, he was
+born, seven miles west of Caliach Point, in Mull, and in full view of
+the rugged gneiss.
+
+As he swung along, there throbbed again and again through his brain
+the beautiful opening paragraph of Frantisek Palacky's (1798-1876)
+"_Zur böhmischen Geschichtschreibung_" (Prague, 1871), written just
+after the author had refused a portfolio in the Pillersdorf Cabinet
+and had also declined to take part in the preliminary diet at
+Kromerice.
+
+"If _he_ could believe such things, why can not I?" murmured the young
+man, and crushed a ginkgo beneath his feet. Young men are often so. It
+is due to the elaterium of spring.
+
+"By Ereshkigal," he swore softly to himself, "I'll do it."
+
+No sooner had he spoken than he came suddenly out of the tangle of
+gymnosperms through whose leaves, needle-like and destitute of
+oil-glands as they were, he had been making his way, and emerged to a
+full view of the broad sweep of the Lake of Zug, just where the Lorze
+enters at its northern extremity and one and a quarter miles east of
+where it issues again to pursue its course toward the Reuss. Zug, at
+this point, is 1,368 feet above sea-level, and boasted its first
+steamer in 1852.
+
+"Well," he sighed, as he gazed upon the broad area of subsidence, "if
+I were now an exarch, whose dignity was, at one time, intermediate
+between the Patriarchal and the Metropolitan and from whose name has
+come that of the politico-religious party, the Exarchists, I should
+not be here day-dreaming. I should be far away in Footscray, a city of
+Bourke County, Victoria, Australia, pop. (1901) 18,301."
+
+[Illustration: "He came suddenly out of the tangle of gymnosperms."]
+
+And as he said this his eyes filled with tears, and under his skin,
+brown as fustic, there spread a faint flush, such as is often formed
+by citrocyde, or by pyrochloric acid when acting on uncured leather.
+
+Far down in the valley the natives were celebrating the birthday of
+Gambrinus, a mythical Flemish king who is credited with the first
+brewing of beer. The sound of their voices set in motion longitudinal
+sound waves, and these, traveling through the surrounding medium, met
+the surface separating two media and were in part reflected, traveling
+back from the surface into the first medium again with the velocity
+with which they approached it, as depicted in Fig. 10. This caused the
+echo for which the Lake of Zug is justly famous.
+
+The twilight began to deepen and from far above came the twinkling
+signals of, first, Böotes, then Coma Berenices, followed, awhile
+later, by Ursa Major and her little brother, Ursa Minor.
+
+"The stars are clear to-night," he sighed. "I wonder if they are
+visible from the dacite elevation on which SHE lives."
+
+His was an untrained mind. His only school had been the Eleatic
+School, the contention of which was that the true explanation of
+things lies in the conception of a universal unity of being, or the
+All-ness of One.
+
+But he knew what he liked.
+
+In the calm light of the stars he felt as if a uban had been lifted
+from his heart, 5 ubans being equal to 1 quat, 6 quats to 1 ammat and
+120 ammats to 1 sos.
+
+He was free again.
+
+Turning, he walked swiftly down into the valley, passing returning
+peasants with their baa-poots, and soon came in sight of the shining
+lamps of the small but carefully built pooroos which lined the road.
+
+[Illustration: "She turned like a frightened aardvark." (Male, greatly
+reduced.)]
+
+Reaching the corner he saw the village epi peering over the tree-tops,
+and swarms of cicada, with the toothed famoras of their anterior legs
+mingling in a sleepy drone, like many cichlids. It was all very
+home-like to the wanderer.
+
+Suddenly there appeared on a neighboring eminence a party of guisards,
+such as, during the Saturnalia, and from the Nativity till the
+Epiphany were accustomed to disport themselves in odd costumes; all
+clad in clouting, and evidently returning from taking part in the
+celebration.
+
+[Illustration: "Barnaby Bernard Weenix." (1777-1829.)]
+
+As they drew nearer, our hero noticed a young woman in the front rank
+who was playing folk-songs on a cromorne with a double-reed
+mouth-piece enclosed in an air-reservoir.
+
+In spite of the detritus wrought by the festival, there was something
+familiar about the buccinator of her face and her little mannerism of
+elevating her second phalanx. It struck him like the flash of a cloud
+highly charged by the coalescence of drops of vapor. He approached
+her, tenderly, reverently.
+
+[Illustration: "Why not to Wem?" (From a contemporaneous print.)]
+
+"Lange, Anne Françoise Elizabeth," he said, "I know you. You are a
+French actress, born in Genoa on the seventeenth of September, 1772,
+and you made your first appearance on the stage in _L'Ecossaise_ in
+1788. Your talent and your beauty gave you an enormous success in
+_Pamela_. It has taken me years to find you, but now we are united at
+last."
+
+The girl turned like a frightened aardvark, still holding the
+cromorne in her hand. Then she smiled.
+
+"Weenix, Barnaby Bernard (1777-1829)," she said very slowly, "you
+started business as a publisher in London about 1797."
+
+They looked at each other for a moment in silence. He was the first to
+speak.
+
+"Miss Lange, Anne," he said, "let us go together to Lar--and be happy
+there--happy as two ais, or three-toed South American sloths."
+
+She lowered her eyes.
+
+"I will go with you Mr. Weenix-Barney," she said, "to the ends of the
+earth. But why to Lar? Why not to Wem?"
+
+"Because," said the young man, "Lar is the capital of Laristan, in 27
+degrees, 30 minutes N., 180 miles from Shiraz, and contains an old
+bazaar consisting of four arcades each 180 feet long."
+
+Their eyes met, and she placed her hands in his.
+
+And, from the woods, came the mellow whinnying of a herd of vip, the
+wool of which is highly valued for weaving.
+
+
+
+
+XVII
+
+THE PASSING OF THE ORTHODOX PARADOX
+
+
+Whatever irreparable harm may have been done to Society by the recent
+epidemic of crook, sex and other dialect plays, one great alleviation
+has resulted. They have driven up-stage, for the time being, the
+characters who exist on tea and repartee in "The drawing-room of Sir
+Arthur Peaversham's town house, Grosvenor Square. Time: late Autumn."
+
+A person in a crook play may have talked underworld patois which no
+self-respecting criminal would have allowed himself to utter, but he
+did not sit on a divan and evolve abnormal _bons mots_ with each and
+every breath. The misguided and misinformed daughter in the Self and
+Sex Play may have lisped words which only an interne should hear, but
+she did not offer a succession of brilliant but meaningless paradoxes
+as a substitute for real conversation.
+
+Continuously snappy back-talk is now encountered chiefly in such acts
+as those of "Cooney & LeBlanc, the Eccentric Comedy Dancing Team."
+
+And even _they_ manage to scrape along without the paradoxes.
+
+But there was a time, beginning with the Oscar Wilde era, when no
+unprotected thought was safe.
+
+[Illustration: "Snappy back-talk is now encountered chiefly in such
+acts as 'Cooney & LeBlanc, the Eccentric Comedy Dancing Team.'"]
+
+It might be seized at any moment by an English Duke or a Lady Agatha
+and strangled to death. Even the butlers in the late 'eighties were
+wits, and served epigrams with cucumber sandwiches; and a person
+entering one of these drawing-rooms and talking in connected
+sentences--easily understood by everybody--each with one subject,
+predicate and meaning, would have been looked upon as a high class
+moron. One might as well have gone to a dinner at Lady Coventry's
+without one's collar, as without one's kit of trained paradoxes.
+
+[Illustration: "The butlers served epigrams with the cucumber
+sandwiches."]
+
+A late Autumn afternoon in one of these semi-Oscar Wilde plays, for
+instance, would run something like this:
+
+
+SCENE--_The Octagon Room in Lord Raymond Eaveston's Manor House in
+Stropshire._
+
+LADY EAVESTON and SIR THOMAS WAFFLETON _are discovered, arranging red
+flowers in a vase_.
+
+SIR T.: I detest red flowers; they are so yellow.
+
+LADY E.: What a cynic you are, Sir Thomas. I really must not listen to
+you or I shall hear something that you say.
+
+SIR T.: Not at all, my dear Lady Eaveston. I detest people who listen
+closely; they are so inattentive.
+
+LADY E.: Pray do not be analytical, my dear Sir Thomas. When people
+are extremely analytical with me I am sure that they are superficial,
+and, to me, nothing is more abominable than superficiality, unless
+perhaps it is an intolerable degree of thoroughness.
+
+(_Enter Meadows, the Butler_)
+
+MEADOWS (_announcing_): Sir Mortimer Longley and Mrs. Wrennington,--a
+most remarkable couple,--I may say in announcing them,--in that there
+is nothing at all remarkable about them.
+
+(_Enter Sir Mortimer and Mrs. Wrennington_)
+
+MRS. W.: So sorry to be late, dear Lady Eaveston. But it is so easy to
+be on time that I always make it a point to be late. It lends poise,
+and poise is a charming quality for any woman to have, am I not right,
+Sir Thomas?
+
+SIR T.: You are always right, my dear Mrs. Wrennington, and never more
+so than now, for I know of no more attractive attribute than poise,
+unless perhaps it be embarrassment.
+
+LADY E.: What horrid cynics you men are! Really, Sir Thomas, one might
+think, from your sophisticated remarks that you had been brought up in
+the country and had seen nothing of life.
+
+SIR T.: And so I _have_ been, my dear Lady Eaveston. To my mind,
+London is nothing but the country, and certainly Stropshire is nothing
+but a metropolis. The difference is, that when one is in town, one
+lives with others, and when one is in the country, others live with
+one. And both plans are abominable.
+
+MRS. W.: What a horrid combination! I hate horrid combinations; they
+always turn out to be so extremely pleasant.
+
+(_Enter Meadows_)
+
+MEADOWS (_announcing_): Sir Roland Pinshamton; Viscount Lemingham;
+Countess Trotski and Mr. Peters. In announcing these parties I cannot
+refrain from remarking that it has always been my opinion that a man
+who intends to get married should either know something or nothing,
+preferably both.
+
+(_Exit Meadows_)
+
+COUNTESS T.: So sorry to be late, my dear Lady Eaveston. It was
+charmingly tolerant of you to have us.
+
+LADY E.: Invitations are never tolerant, my dear Countess; acceptances
+always are. But do tell me, how is your husband, the Count,--or
+perhaps he is no longer your husband. One never knows these days
+whether a man is his wife's husband or whether she is simply his wife.
+
+COUNTESS T. (_lighting a cigarette_): Really, Lady Eaveston, you grow
+more and more interesting. I detest interesting people; they are so
+hopelessly uninteresting. It is like beautiful people--who are usually
+so singularly unbeautiful. Has not that been your experience, Sir
+Mortimer?
+
+SIR M.: May I have the pleasure of escorting you to the music-room,
+Mrs. Wrennington?
+
+(_Exeunt omnes to music-room for dinner_)
+
+Curtain.
+
+
+It is from this that we have, in a measure, been delivered by the
+court-room scenes, and all the medical dramas. But the paradox still
+remains intrenched in English writing behind Mr. G.K. Chesterton, and
+he may be considered, by literary tacticians, as considerable
+stronghold.
+
+Here again we find our commonplaces shaken up until they emerge in
+what looks like a new and tremendously imposing shape, and all of them
+ostensibly proving the opposite of what we have always understood. If
+we do not quite catch the precise meaning at first reading, we lay it
+to our imperfect perception and try to do better on the next one. It
+seldom occurs to us that it really may have no meaning at all and
+never was intended to have any, any more than the act of hanging by
+your feet from parallel bars has any further significance than that
+you can manage to do it.
+
+So, before retiring to the privacy of our personal couches, let us
+thank an all wise Providence, that the drama-paradox has passed away.
+
+
+
+
+XVIII
+
+SHAKESPEARE EXPLAINED
+
+_Carrying on the System of Footnotes to a Silly Extreme_
+
+
+PERICLES
+
+ACT II. SCENE 3
+
+_Enter first Lady-in-Waiting_ (_Flourish_,^1 _Hautboys_^2 _and_^3
+_torches_^4).
+
+_First Lady-in-Waiting_--What^5 ho!^6 Where^7 is^8 the^9 music?^10
+
+
+NOTES
+
+1. _Flourish_: The stage direction here is obscure. Clarke claims it
+should read "flarish," thus changing the meaning of the passage to
+"flarish" (that is, the King's), but most authorities have agreed that
+it should remain "flourish," supplying the predicate which is to be
+flourished. There was at this time a custom in the countryside of
+England to flourish a mop as a signal to the passing vender of
+berries, signifying that in that particular household there was a
+consumer-demand for berries, and this may have been meant in this
+instance. That Shakespeare was cognizant of this custom of flourishing
+the mop for berries is shown in a similar passage in the second part
+of King Henry IV, where he has the Third Page enter and say,
+"Flourish." Cf. also Hamlet, IV, 7:4.
+
+[Illustration: "Might be one of the hautboys bearing a box of
+"trognies" for the actors to suck."]
+
+2. _Hautboys_, from the French _haut_, meaning "high" and the Eng.
+_boys_, meaning "boys." The word here is doubtless used in the sense
+of "high boys," indicating either that Shakespeare intended to convey
+the idea of spiritual distress on the part of the First
+Lady-in-Waiting or that he did not. Of this Rolfe says: "Here we have
+one of the chief indications of Shakespeare's knowledge of human
+nature, his remarkable insight into the petty foibles of this
+work-a-day world." Cf. T.N. 4:6, "Mine eye hath play'd the painter,
+and hath stell'd thy beauty's form in table of my heart."
+
+3. _and_. A favorite conjunctive of Shakespeare's in referring to the
+need for a more adequate navy for England. Tauchnitz claims that it
+should be pronounced "und," stressing the anti-penult. This
+interpretation, however, has found disfavor among most commentators
+because of its limited significance. We find the same conjunctive in
+A.W.T.E.W. 6:7, "Steel-boned, unyielding _and_ uncomplying virtue,"
+and here there can be no doubt that Shakespeare meant that if the King
+should consent to the marriage of his daughter the excuse of Stephano,
+offered in Act 2, would carry no weight.
+
+4. _Torches_. The interpolation of some foolish player and never the
+work of Shakespeare (Warb.). The critics of the last century have
+disputed whether or not this has been misspelled in the original, and
+should read "trochies" or "troches." This might well be since the
+introduction of tobacco into England at this time had wrought havoc
+with the speaking voices of the players, and we might well imagine
+that at the entrance of the First Lady-in-Waiting there might be
+perhaps one of the hautboys mentioned in the preceding passage bearing
+a box of troches or "trognies" for the actors to suck. Of this
+entrance Clarke remarks: "The noble mixture of spirited firmness and
+womanly modesty, fine sense and true humility, clear sagacity and
+absence of conceit, passionate warmth and sensitive delicacy, generous
+love and self-diffidence with which Shakespeare has endowed this First
+Lady-in-Waiting renders her in our eyes one of the most admirable of
+his female characters." Cf. M.S.N.D. 8:9, "That solder'st close
+impossibilities and mak'st them kiss."
+
+5. _What_--What.
+
+6._Ho!_. In conjunction with the preceding word doubtless means "What
+ho!" changed by Clarke to "What hoo!" In the original MS. it reads
+"What hi!" but this has been accredited to the tendency of the time to
+write "What hi" when "what ho" was meant. Techner alone maintains that
+it should read "What humpf!" Cf. Ham. 5:0, "High-ho!"
+
+7. _Where_. The reading of the folio, retained by Johnson, the
+Cambridge editors and others, but it is not impossible that
+Shakespeare wrote "why," as Pope and others give it. This would make
+the passage read "Why the music?" instead of "Where is the music?"
+and would be a much more probable interpretation in view of the music
+of that time. Cf. George Ade. Fable No. 15, "Why the gunny-sack?"
+
+8. _is_--is not. That is, would not be.
+
+9. _the_. Cf. Ham.4:6. M.S.N.D. 3:5. A.W.T.E.W. 2:6. T.N. 1:3 and
+Macbeth 3:1, "that knits up _the_ raveled sleeves of care."
+
+10. _music_. Explained by Malone as "the art of making music" or
+"music that is made." If it has but one of these meanings we are
+inclined to think it is the first; and this seems to be favored by
+what precedes, "_the_ music!" Cf. M. of V. 4:2, "The man that hath no
+music in himself."
+
+The meaning of the whole passage seems to be that the First
+Lady-in-Waiting has entered, concomitant with a flourish, hautboys and
+torches and says, "What ho! Where is the music?"
+
+
+
+
+XIX
+
+THE SCIENTIFIC SCENARIO
+
+
+Sooner or later some one is going to come out and say that the movies
+are too low-brow. I can just see it coming. Maybe some one has said it
+already, without its having been brought to my attention, as I have
+been very busy for the past two weeks on my yearly accounts (my
+accounts for the year 1920, I mean. What with one thing and another, I
+am a bit behind in my budget system).
+
+And whenever this denouncement of the movies takes place, the first
+thing that is going to be specifically criticized is the type of story
+which is now utilized for scenarios. How can a nation hope to inject
+any culture in the minds of its people if it feeds them with
+moving-picture stories dealing with elemental emotions like love,
+hate, and a passion for evening-dress? Scenarios to-day have no
+cultural background. That's the trouble with them. They have no
+cultural background.
+
+Now, if we are to make the movies count for anything in the mental
+development of our people, we must build them of sterner stuff. We
+must make them from stories and books which are of the mind rather
+than of the body. The action should be cerebral, rather than physical,
+and instead of thrilling at the sight of two horsemen galloping along
+a cliff, we should be given the opportunity of seeing two opposing
+minds doing a rough-and-tumble on the edge of a nice problem in
+Dialectics or Metaphysics.
+
+I would suggest as a book, from which a pretty little scenario might
+be made, "The Education of Henry Adams." This volume has had a
+remarkable success during the past year among the highly educated
+classes. Public library records show that more people have lied about
+having read it than any other book in a decade. It contains five
+hundred pages of mental masochism, in which the author tortures
+himself for not getting anywhere in his brain processes. He just
+simply can't seem to get any further than the evolution of an
+elementary Dynamic Theory of History or a dilettante dabbling with a
+Law of Acceleration. And he came of a bright family, too.
+
+I don't go in much for scenario writing myself, but I am willing to
+help along the cause of better moving-pictures by offering herewith an
+outline for a six-reel feature entitled "THE EDUCATION OF HENRY ADAMS;
+or WHY MINDS GO WRONG."
+
+
+_CAST OF CHARACTERS_
+
+_Henry Adams._
+
+_Left Frontal Brain Lobe._
+
+_Right Frontal Brain Lobe._
+
+_Manservant._
+
+_Crowd of Villagers, Reflexes, Complexes, and Mental Processes._
+
+
+The first scene is, according to the decorated caption: "IN THE
+HARVARD COLLEGE STUDY OF HENRY ADAMS, SCION OF AN OLD NEW ENGLAND
+FAMILY, THE NIGHT BEFORE THE BIG CEREBRAL FUNCTION OF HIS YOUNG
+MANHOOD."
+
+Henry Adams, a Junior, is discovered sitting at his desk in his room
+in Holworthy Hall. He has a notebook on the Glacial Period and
+Palæontology open in front of him. He is thinking of his Education.
+(_Flash-back showing courses taken since Freshman year. Pianist plays
+"Carry Me Back to Old Virginie."_) He bites his under lip and turns a
+page of his notes.
+
+Caption: "DOES TRANSCENDENTALISM HOLD THE KEY?... I WONDER...."
+
+(_Fade-out showing him biting his upper lip, still thinking_.)
+
+The second scene is laid in Rome.
+
+Caption: "HERE, AFTER A YEAR'S WANDERING THROUGH THE HAPPY, SMILING
+LANDS OF EUROPE, COMES YOUNG HENRY ADAMS IN HIS SEARCH FOR EDUCATION.
+AND NOW, IN THE SHADOW OF ANCIENT ROME, HE FINDS PEACE, BUT NOT THAT
+PEACE FOR WHICH HE SOUGHT."
+
+[Illustration: "Thrilling moment in 'The Education of Henry Adams.'"]
+
+He is discovered sitting on a rock among the ruins of the Capitol,
+thinking. He tosses a pebble from one hand to another and scowls. The
+shadows deepen, and he rises, passing his hand across his brow.
+(_Flash-back showing the Latin verbs which govern the dative case.
+Pianist plays: "The March of the Jolly Grenadiers."_)
+
+He walks slowly to the _Museo Nazionale_, where he stands pondering
+before a statue of Venus, thinking about Roman art and history--and
+about his Education.
+
+Caption: "CAN ALL THIS BE FITTED INTO A TIME-SEQUENCE? CAN RIENZI,
+GARIBALDI. TIBERIUS GRACCHUS, AURELIAN, ANY OF THESE FAMOUS NAMES OF
+ROME, BE ADAPTED TO A SYSTEMATIC SCHEME OF EVOLUTION? NO, NO ... A
+THOUSAND TIMES, NO!"
+
+He sinks down on a rock and weeps bitterly.
+
+The next scene is in England and our hero is found sitting at a desk
+in his study in London. He is gazing into space--thinking.
+
+Caption: "AND SO, ALL THROUGH THE LONG, WEARY SUMMER, HENRY ADAMS SAT,
+HEAD IN HAND, WONDERING IF DARWIN WAS RIGHT. TO HIM THE GLACIAL EPOCH
+SEEMED LIKE A YAWNING CHASM BETWEEN A UNIFORMITARIAN WORLD AND
+HIMSELF. IF THE GLACIAL PERIOD WERE UNIFORMITY, WHAT WAS
+CATASTROPHE?... AND TO THIS QUESTION, THE COOL OF THE SUMMER'S EVENING
+IN SHROPSHIRE BROUGHT NO RELIEF."
+
+He rises slowly and goes to the book-shelves, from which he draws a
+copy of "The Origin of Species." Placing it before him on the desk he
+turns the pages slowly until he comes to one which holds his
+attention.
+
+_Close-up of page 126, on which is read_: "It is notorious that
+specific characters are more variable than generic....
+
+                                       _Feet_
+
+    Palæzoic strata (not including     57,154
+      igneous beds)
+    Secondary strata                   13,190
+
+    Tertiary strata                     2,400"
+
+
+The book drops to the floor from his nerveless fingers and he buries
+his head in his arms, sobbing. (Music: _"When You and I Were Young,
+Maggie."_)
+
+"TWENTY YEARS AFTER ... HENRY ADAMS IS NO LONGER YOUNG, BUT IN HIS
+HEART LIES STILL THE HUNGER FOR EDUCATION. GOING FORWARD, EVER
+FORWARD, HE REALIZES AS NEVER BEFORE THAT WITHOUT THOUGHT IN THE UNIT,
+THERE CAN BE NO UNITY. THOUGHT ALONE IS FORM. MIND AND UNITY FLOURISH
+OR PERISH TOGETHER."
+
+(_Allegorical flash-back showing Mind and Unity perishing together._)
+
+The hero is now seen seated in a Morris chair in Washington, touching
+his finger-tips together in a ruminative manner. Arising slowly, he
+goes to the window and looks out over Lafayette Square. Then he lights
+a cigar and goes back to his chair. He is pondering and attempting to
+determine when, between 3000 B.C. and 1000 A.D. the momentum of Europe
+was greatest, as exemplified in mathematics by such masters as
+Archimedes, Aristarchus, Ptolemy and Euclid.
+
+(_Flash-back showing the mathematical theories of Archimedes,
+Aristarchus, Ptolemy and Euclid. Music: "Old Ireland Shall Be Free."_)
+
+Rising from his chair again, he paces the floor, clenching his hands
+behind his back in mute fury.
+
+Caption: "GOD HAVE MERCY ON ME! I CAN SEE IT ALL--I HAVE NEVER BEEN
+EDUCATED!"
+
+        NEXT WEEK: BERT LYTELL IN
+            "SARTOR RESARTUS"
+        A SMASHING SIX-REEL FEATURE
+              BY TOM CARLYLE
+
+
+
+
+XX
+
+THE MOST POPULAR BOOK OF THE MONTH
+
+NEW YORK CITY (including all Boroughs) TELEPHONE DIRECTORY--N.Y.
+Telephone Co., N.Y. 1920. 8vo. 1208 pp.
+
+
+In picking up this new edition of a popular favorite, the reviewer
+finds himself confronted by a nice problem in literary ethics. The
+reader must guess what it is.
+
+There may be said to be two classes of people in the world; those who
+constantly divide the people of the world into two classes, and those
+who do not. Both classes are extremely unpleasant to meet socially,
+leaving practically no one in the world whom one cares very much to
+know. This feeling is made poignant, to the point of becoming an
+obsession, by a careful reading of the present volume.
+
+We are herein presented to some five hundred thousand characters, each
+one deftly drawn in a line or two of agate type, each one standing out
+from the rest in bold relief. It is hard to tell which one is the most
+lovable. In one mood we should say _W.S. Custard_ of Minnieford Ave.
+In another, more susceptible frame of mind, we should stand by the
+character who opens the book and who first introduces us into this
+Kingdom of Make-Believe--_Mr. V. Aagaard_, the old "Impt. & Expt." How
+one seems to see him, impting and expting all the hot summer day
+through, year in and year out, always heading the list, but always
+modest and unassuming, always with a kindly word and a smile for
+passers-by on Broadway!
+
+[Illustration: "The most popular book on earth."]
+
+It is perhaps inaccurate to say that _V. Aagaard_ introduces us to the
+book. He is the first flesh-and-blood human being with whom the reader
+comes in contact, but the initial place in the line should
+technically go to the A. & A.A. Excelsior Co. Having given credit
+where credit is due, however, let us express our personal opinion that
+this name is a mere trick, designed to crowd out all other competitors
+in the field for the honor of being in the premiere position, for it
+must be obvious to any one with any perception at all that the name
+doesn't make sense. _No_ firm could be named the A. & A.A. Co., and
+the author of the telephone directory might better have saved his
+jokes until the body of the book. After all, Gelett Burgess does that
+sort of thing much better than any one else could hope to.
+
+But, beginning with _V. Aagaard_ and continuing through to _Mrs. L.
+Zyfers_ of Yettman Ave., the reader is constantly aware of the fact
+that here are real people, living in a real city, and that they
+represent a problem which must be faced.
+
+Sharp as we find the character etching in the book, the action,
+written and implied, is even more remarkable. Let us, for instance,
+take _Mr. Saml Dreyslinger_, whose business is "Furn Reprg," or _Peter
+Shalijian_, who does "pmphlt bindg." Into whose experience do these
+descriptions not fit? The author need only mention a man bindg pmphlts
+to bring back a flood of memories to each and every one of us--perhaps
+our old home town in New England where bindg pmphlts was almost a
+rite during the long winter months, as well as a social function of no
+mean proportions. It is the ability to suggest, to insinuate, these
+automatic memories on the part of the reader without the use of extra
+words that makes the author of this work so worthy of the name of
+craftsman in the literary annals of the day.
+
+Perhaps most deft of all is the little picture that is made of _Louise
+Winkler_, who is the village "sclp spclst." One does not have to know
+much medieval history to remember the position that the sclp spclst
+used to hold in the community during the Wars of the Roses. Or during
+Shay's Rebellion, for that matter. In those days, to be a sclp spclst
+was as important a post as that of "clb bdg stbls" (now done for New
+York City by Mr. Graham). People came from miles around to consult
+with the local sclp spclst on matters pertaining not only to sclps but
+to knt gds and wr whls, both of which departments of our daily life
+have now been delegated to separate agencies. Then gradually, with the
+growth of the trade guild movement, there came the Era of
+Specialization in Industry, and the high offices of the sclp spclst
+were dissipated among other trades, until only that coming strictly
+under the head of sclp speclzng remained. To this estate has _Miss
+Winkler_ come, and in that part of the book which deals with her and
+her work, we have, as it were, a little epic on the mutability of
+human endeavor. It is all too short, however, and we are soon
+thereafter plunged into the dreary round of expting and impting, this
+time through a character called _J. Wubbe_, who is interesting only in
+so far as he is associated with _M. Wrubel_ and _A.N. Wubbenhorst_,
+all of whom come together at the bottom of the column.
+
+The plot, in spite of whatever virtues may accrue to it from the acid
+delineation of the characters and the vivid action pictures, is the
+weakest part of the work. It lacks coherence. It lacks stability.
+
+Perhaps this is because of the nature of the book itself. Perhaps it
+is because the author knew too well his Dunsany. Or his Wells. Or his
+Bradstreet. But it is the opinion of the present reviewer that the
+weakness of plot is due to the great number of characters which
+clutter up the pages. The Russian school is responsible for this. We
+see here the logical result of a sedulous aping of those writers such
+as Tolstoi, Andreief, Turgenief, Dostoiefsky, or even Pushkin, whose
+_metier_ it was to fill the pages of their books with an inordinate
+number of characters, many of whom the reader was to encounter but
+once, let us say, on the Nevsky Prospekt or in the Smolny Institute,
+but all of whom added their peculiar names (we believe that we will
+not offend when we refer to Russian names as "peculiar") to the
+general confusion of the whole.
+
+In practice, the book is not flawless. There are five hundred thousand
+names, each with a corresponding telephone number. But, through some
+error in editing, the numbers are all wrong. Proof of this may be had
+by the simple expedient of calling up any one of the subscribers,
+using the number assigned by the author to that name. (Any name will
+do--let us say _Nicholas Wimpie_-Haxlem 2131.) If the call is put in
+bright and early in the morning, the report will come over the wire
+just as the lights are going on for evening of the same day that
+"Harlem 2131 does not answer." The other numbers are invariably
+equally unproductive of results. The conclusion is obvious.
+
+Aside from this point the book is a success.
+
+
+
+
+XXI
+
+CHRISTMAS AFTERNOON
+
+_Done in the Manner, if Not the Spirit, of Dickens_
+
+
+What an afternoon! Mr. Gummidge said that, in his estimation, there
+never had _been_ such an afternoon since the world began, a sentiment
+which was heartily endorsed by Mrs. Gummidge and all the little
+Gummidges, not to mention the relatives who had come over from Jersey
+for the day.
+
+In the first place, there was the _ennui_. And such _ennui_ as it was!
+A heavy, overpowering _ennui_, such as results from a participation in
+eight courses of steaming, gravied food, topping off with salted nuts
+which the little old spinster Gummidge from Oak Hill said she never
+knew when to stop eating--and true enough she didn't--a dragging,
+devitalizing _ennui_, which left its victims strewn about the
+living-room in various attitudes of prostration suggestive of those of
+the petrified occupants in a newly unearthed Pompeiian dwelling; an
+_ennui_ which carried with it a retinue of yawns, snarls and thinly
+veiled insults, and which ended in ruptures in the clan spirit serious
+enough to last throughout the glad new year.
+
+[Illustration: "What an afternoon!"]
+
+Then there were the toys! Three and a quarter dozen toys to be divided
+among seven children. Surely enough, you or I might say, to satisfy
+the little tots. But that would be because we didn't know the tots. In
+came Baby Lester Gummidge, Lillian's boy, dragging an electric
+grain-elevator which happened to be the only toy in the entire
+collection which appealed to little Norman, five-year-old son of
+Luther, who lived in Rahway. In came curly-headed Effie in frantic and
+throaty disputation with Arthur, Jr., over the possession of an
+articulated zebra. In came Everett, bearing a mechanical negro which
+would no longer dance, owing to a previous forcible feeding by the
+baby of a marshmallow into its only available aperture. In came
+Fonlansbee, teeth buried in the hand of little Ormond, which bore a
+popular but battered remnant of what had once been the proud
+false-bosom of a hussar's uniform. In they all came, one after
+another, some crying, some snapping, some pulling, some pushing--all
+appealing to their respective parents for aid in their intra-mural
+warfare.
+
+And the cigar smoke! Mrs. Gummidge said that she didn't mind the smoke
+from a good cigarette, but would they mind if she opened the windows
+for just a minute in order to clear the room of the heavy aroma of
+used cigars? Mr. Gummidge stoutly maintained that they were good
+cigars. His brother, George Gummidge, said that he, likewise, would
+say that they were. At which colloquial sally both the Gummidge
+brothers laughed testily, thereby breaking the laughter record for the
+afternoon.
+
+Aunt Libbie, who lived with George, remarked from the dark corner of
+the room that it seemed just like Sunday to her. An amendment was
+offered to this statement by the cousin, who was in the insurance
+business, stating that it was worse than Sunday. Murmurings indicative
+of as hearty agreement with this sentiment as their lethargy would
+allow came from the other members of the family circle, causing Mr.
+Gummidge to suggest a walk in the air to settle their dinner.
+
+And then arose such a chorus of protestations as has seldom been
+heard. It was too cloudy to walk. It was too raw. It looked like snow.
+It looked like rain. Luther Gummidge said that he must be starting
+along home soon, anyway, bringing forth the acid query from Mrs.
+Gummidge as to whether or not he was bored. Lillian said that she felt
+a cold coming on, and added that something they had had for dinner
+must have been undercooked. And so it went, back and forth, forth and
+back, up and down, and in and out, until Mr. Gummidge's suggestion of
+a walk in the air was reduced to a tattered impossibility and the
+entire company glowed with ill-feeling.
+
+In the meantime, we must not forget the children. No one else could.
+Aunt Libbie said that she didn't think there was anything like
+children to make a Christmas; to which Uncle Ray, the one with the
+Masonic fob, said, "No, thank God!" Although Christmas is supposed to
+be the season of good cheer, you (or I, for that matter) couldn't have
+told, from listening to the little ones, but what it was the
+children's Armageddon season, when Nature had decreed that only the
+fittest should survive, in order that the race might be carried on by
+the strongest, the most predatory and those posessing the best
+protective coloring. Although there were constant admonitions to
+Fonlansbee to "Let Ormond have that whistle now; it's his," and to
+Arthur, Jr., not to be selfish, but to "give the kiddie-car to Effie;
+she's smaller than you are," the net result was always that Fonlansbee
+kept the whistle and Arthur, Jr., rode in permanent, albeit disputed,
+possession of the kiddie-car. Oh, that we mortals should set ourselves
+up against the inscrutable workings of Nature!
+
+[Illustration: "Hallo! A great deal of commotion!"]
+
+Hallo! A great deal of commotion! That was Uncle George stumbling over
+the electric train, which had early in the afternoon ceased to
+function and which had been left directly across the threshold. A
+great deal of crying! That was Arthur, Jr., bewailing the destruction
+of his already useless train, about which he had forgotten until the
+present moment. A great deal of recrimination! That was Arthur, Sr.,
+and George fixing it up. And finally a great crashing! That was Baby
+Lester pulling over the tree on top of himself, necessitating the
+bringing to bear of all of Uncle Ray's knowledge of forestry to
+extricate him from the wreckage.
+
+And finally Mrs. Gummidge passed the Christmas candy around. Mr.
+Gummidge afterward admitted that this was a tactical error on the part
+of his spouse. I no more believe that Mrs. Gummidge thought they
+wanted that Christmas candy than I believe that she thought they
+wanted the cold turkey which she later suggested. My opinion is that
+she wanted to drive them home. At any rate, that is what she succeeded
+in doing. Such cries as there were of "Ugh! Don't let me see another
+thing to eat!" and "Take it away!" Then came hurried scramblings in
+the coat-closet for over-shoes. There were the rasping sounds made by
+cross parents when putting wraps on children. There were insincere
+exhortations to "come and see us soon" and to "get together for lunch
+some time." And, finally, there were slammings of doors and the
+silence of utter exhaustion, while Mrs. Gummidge went about picking up
+stray sheets of wrapping paper.
+
+And, as Tiny Tim might say in speaking of Christmas afternoon as an
+institution, "God help us, every one."
+
+
+
+
+XXII
+
+HAIL, VERNAL EQUINOX!
+
+
+If all that I hear is true, a great deal has been written, first and
+last, about that season which we slangily call "Spring"; but I don't
+remember ever having seen it done in really first-class form;--that
+is, in such a way that it left something with you to think over,
+something that you could put your finger on and say, "There, _there_
+is a Big, Vital Thought that I can carry away with me to my room."
+
+What Spring really needs is a regular press-agent sort of write-up,
+something with the Punch in it, an article that will make people sit
+up and say to themselves, "By George, there must be something in this
+Spring stuff, after all."
+
+What sort of popularity did Education have until correspondence
+schools and encyclopedias began to give publicity to it in their
+advertisements? Where would Music be to-day if it were not for the
+exhortations of the talking-machine and mechanical-piano companies
+telling, through their advertising-copy writers, of the spiritual
+exaltation that comes from a love of music? These things were all
+right in their way before the press-agent took hold of them, but they
+never could have hoped to reach their present position without him.
+
+Of course, all this has just been leading up to the point I want to
+make,--that something more ought to be written about Spring. When you
+consider that every one, including myself, agrees that _nothing_ more
+should be written about it, I think that I have done rather well to
+prove as much as I have so far. And, having got this deep into the
+thing, I can't very well draw back now.
+
+Well then, Spring is a great season. Nobody will gainsay me that.
+Without it, we should crash right from Winter into Summer with no
+chance to shift to light-weight underwear. I could write a whole piece
+about that phase of it alone, and, if I were pressed for things to
+say, I myself could enlarge on it now, making up imaginary
+conversation of people who have been caught in balbriggans by the
+first sweltering day of summer. But I have so many more things to say
+about Spring that I can't stop to bother with deadwood like that. Such
+literary fillerbusting should be left to those who are not so full of
+their subject as I am.
+
+In preparing for this article, I thought it best to look up a little
+on the technical side of Spring, about which so little is known, at
+least by me. And, would you believe it, the Encyclopedia Britannica,
+which claims in its advertisements not only to make its readers
+presidents of the Boards of Directors of any companies they may
+select, but also shows how easy it would be for Grandpa or Little Edna
+to carry the whole set about from room to room, if, by any possible
+chance they should ever want to, this same Encyclopedia Britannica
+makes no reference to Spring, except incidentally, along with Bed
+Springs and Bubbling Springs.
+
+This slight of one of our most popular seasons is probably due to the
+fact that Spring is not exclusively a British product and was not
+invented by a Briton. Had Spring been fortunate enough to have had the
+Second Earl of Stropshire-Stropshire-Stropshire as one of its
+founders, the Britannica could probably have seen its way clear to
+give it a five-page article, signed by the Curator of the Jade
+Department in the British Museum, and illustrated with colored plates,
+showing the effect of Spring on the vertical and transverse sections
+of the stamen of the South African Euphorbiceæ.
+
+I was what you might, but probably wouldn't, call stunned at not
+finding anything about the Season of Love in the encyclopedia, for
+without that assistance what sort of a scientific article could I do
+on the subject? I am not good at improvising as I go along, especially
+in astronomical matters. But we Americans are not so easily thwarted.
+Quick as a wink I looked up "Equinox."
+
+There is a renewed agitation of late to abolish Latin from our
+curricula. Had I not known my Latin I never could have figured out
+what "equinox" meant, and this article would never have been written.
+Take that, Mr. Flexner!
+
+While finding "equinox," however, I came across the word
+"equilibrium," which is the word before you come to "equinox," and I
+became quite absorbed in what it had to say on the matter. There were
+a great many things stated there that I had never dreamed before, even
+in my wildest vagaries on the subject of equilibrium. For instance,
+did you know that if you cover the head of a bird, "as in hooding a
+falcon" (do you remember the good old days when you used to run away
+from school to hood falcons?) the bird is deprived of the power of
+voluntary movement? Just think of that, deprived of the power of
+voluntary movement simply because its head is covered!
+
+And, as if this were not enough, it says that the same thing holds
+true of a fish! If you should ever, on account of a personal grudge,
+want to get the better of a fish, just sneak up to him on some
+pretext or other and suddenly cover its eyes with a cloth, and there
+you have it, helpless and unable to move. You may then insult it, and
+it can do nothing but tremble with rage.
+
+It is little practical things like this that you pick up in reading a
+good reference book, things that you would never get in ten years at
+college.
+
+For instance, take the word "equites," which follows "equinox" in the
+encyclopedia. What do you know about equites, Mr. Businessman? Of
+course, you remember in a vague way that they were Roman horsemen or
+something, but, in the broader sense of the word, could you have told
+that the term "equites" came, in the time of Gaius Gracchus, to mean
+any one who had four hundred thousand sesterces? No, I thought not.
+And yet that is a point which is apt to come up any day at the office.
+A customer from St. Paul might come in and, of course, you would take
+him out to lunch, hoping to land a big order. Where would you be if
+his hobby should happen to be "equites "? And if he should come out in
+the middle of the conversation with "By the way, do you remember how
+many sesterces it was necessary to have during the administration of
+Gaius Gracchus in order to belong to the Equites?" if you could snap
+right back at him with "Four hundred thousand, I believe," the order
+would be assured. And if, in addition, you could volunteer the
+information that an excellent account of the family life of the
+Equites could be found in Mommsen's "_Römisches Staatsrecht_," Vol. 3,
+your customer would probably not only sign up for a ten-year contract,
+but would insist on paying for the lunch.
+
+[Illustration: "If you could snap right back at him with 'Four hundred
+thousand, I believe,' the order would be assured."]
+
+But, of course, this has practically nothing to do with Spring, or, as
+the boys call it, the "vernal equinox." The vernal equinox is a
+serious matter. In fact, I think I may say without violating any
+confidence, that it is the initial point from which the right
+ascensions and the longitudes of the heavenly bodies are measured.
+This statement will probably bring down a storm of ridicule on my
+head, but look at how Fulton was ridiculed.
+
+In fact, I might go even further and say that the way to seek out
+Spring is not to trail along with the poets and essayists into the
+woods and fields and stand about in the mud until a half-clothed bird
+comes out and peeps. If you really want to be in on the official
+advent of Spring, you may sit in a nice warm observatory and, entirely
+free from head-colds, proceed with the following simple course:
+
+Take first the conception of a fictitious point which we shall call,
+for fun, the Mean Equinox. This Mean Equinox moves at a nearly uniform
+rate, slowly varying from century to century.
+
+Now here comes the trick of the thing. The Mean Equinox is merely a
+decoy, and, once you have determined it, you shift suddenly to the
+True Equinox which you can tell, according to Professor A.M. Clerk's
+treatise on the subject, because it moves around the Mean Equinox in a
+period equal to that of the moon's nodes. Now all you have to do is to
+find out what the moon's nodes are (isn't it funny that you can be as
+familiar with an object as you are with the moon and see it almost
+every night, and yet never know that it has even one node, not to
+mention nodes?) and then find out how fast they move. This done and
+you have discovered the Vernal Equinox, or Spring, and without
+spilling a dactyl.
+
+[Illustration: "On the subject of spring's arrival intuition may be
+led astray."]
+
+How much simpler this is than the old, romantic way of determining
+when Spring had come! A poet has to depend on his intuition for
+information, and, on the subject of Spring's arrival, intuition may be
+led astray by any number of things. You may be sitting over one of
+those radiators which are concealed under window-seats, for instance,
+and before you are aware of it feel what you take to be the first
+flush of Spring creeping over you. It would be obviously premature to
+go out and write a poem on Youth and Love and Young Onions on the
+strength of that.
+
+I once heard of a young man who in November discovered that he had an
+intellectual attachment for a certain young woman and felt that
+married life with her would be without doubt a success. But he could
+never work himself up into sufficient emotional enthusiasm to present
+the proposition to her in phrases that he knew she had been accustomed
+to receive from other suitors. He knew that she wouldn't respond to a
+proposal of marriage couched in terms of a real estate transaction.
+Yet such were the only ones that he felt himself capable of at the
+moment under the prevailing weather conditions. So, knowing something
+of biology, he packed his little bag and rented an alcove in a nearby
+green-house, where he basked in the intensified sun-warmth and odor of
+young tube roses, until with a cry, he smashed the glass which
+separated him from his heart's desire and tore around the corner to
+her house, dashing in the back door and flinging himself at her feet
+as she was whipping some cream, and there poured forth such a torrent
+of ardent sentiments that there was really nothing that the poor girl
+could do but marry him that afternoon.
+
+[Illustration: "Spring."]
+
+In fact, if you want to speak astronomically (some people do), you may
+define Spring even more definitely. Since we are all here together,
+and good friends, let us take the center of the earth as origin, and,
+once we have done this, the most natural fundamental axis is,
+obviously, the earth's rotation. The fundamental plane perpendicular
+to it is the plane of the equator. That goes without saying.
+
+Now, here we go! Coördinates referred to in this system are termed
+equatorial, and I think that you will agree with me that nothing could
+be fairer than that. Very well, then. Since this is so, we may define
+Spring by the following geometric representation in which the angle
+ZOP, made by the radius vector with the fundamental plane, shows a
+springlike tendency.
+
+This drawing we may truthfully entitle "Spring," and while it hasn't
+perhaps the color found in Botticelli's painting of the same name, yet
+it just as truthfully represents Spring in these parts as do the
+unstable sort of ladies in the more famous picture.
+
+I only wish that I had more space in which to tell what my heart is
+full of in connection with this subject. I really have only just
+begun.
+
+
+
+
+TABLOID EDITIONS
+
+
+
+
+THE AMERICAN MAGAZINE
+
+
+What I Have Made Myself Learn About You
+
+Being An Account of How One Business Man Made the
+       Little Things Count. Do You?
+
+
+My business (rubber goods) was in a bad way. Somehow I couldn't seem
+to make it return enough to pay my income tax with. My wife and I were
+frankly upset.
+
+At last one morning she came to me and said: "Fred, the baby will soon
+be seven months old and will have to have some sort of vocational
+training. What are we to do?"
+
+That night was the bluest night I have ever spent. I thought that the
+end had come. Then, suddenly, the thought struck me: "Why not try
+character-selling?"
+
+This may sound foolish to you. That is because it is foolish. But it
+did the trick.
+
+I began to sell my personality. Every man that came into my store I
+took aside and showed him different moods. First, I would tell him a
+funny story, to prove to him that I was more than a mere business
+automaton. Then I would relate a pathetic incident I had seen on the
+street a week or two ago. This disclosed my heart. Then I did a
+fragment of a bare-foot dance and sketched a caricature of Lloyd
+George, to let him see that I was a man of the world. After this, I
+was ready to sell him what he came in for, and he would go away
+carrying a very definite impression of my personal
+characteristics--and some of my goods, in a bundle.
+
+A week of selling rubber-goods in this manner, and I was on the
+vaudeville stage, earning $250 a week. How much do _you_ earn?
+
+
+Interesting People
+
+A Man Who Made Good With Newts
+
+
+Some day, if you ever happen to be in Little Falls, turn to your right
+and you will see a prosperous-looking establishment run by Ira S.
+Whip, known throughout Little Falls as the newt king. Starting in with
+practically nothing but two congenial newts, Mr. Whip has, in the past
+ten years, raised no less than 4,000 of these little lizard-like
+animals, all of which had to be thrown away, as there is practically
+no market for pet newts except for incidental rôles in gold-fish
+tanks. But Mr. Whip did what he set out to do, and that counts for a
+lot in this life. Can you say as much?
+
+
+The Man Who Made Good
+
+The story of a man who made good
+
+
+Lorrie Wetmore sat disconsolately in the fountain in Madison Square
+Park. He was lonely. He was a failure.... Yes, he was. Don't
+contradict me. He was a terrible failure. And, as I said before, early
+in this story, he was lonely.
+
+"I have fallen down on the job," he murmured to Admiral Farragut's
+statue. "I have not made good."
+
+Suddenly a kind hand rested on his shoulder. He turned to face the
+pansy-trainer, who keeps the flower-beds in the Park in touch with the
+seasons.
+
+"Don't give in, my boy," said the old man. "Remember the words of
+Henley, who instituted the famous Henley Regatta and so made a name
+for himself: 'I am the master of my Fate. I am the Captain of my
+Soul.'"
+
+"By George," murmured Lorrie to the statue of Salmon P. Chase, "I
+_can_ make good, and I _will_ make good!"
+
+And, with these words, he climbed out of the fountain and made his way
+resolutely across the square to the great store of Marshall Field and
+Co. (Advt.)
+
+In seven weeks he was a member of the firm.
+
+
+Are You Between the Ages of 7 and 94?
+
+If so, what this eminent growth specialist says here applies
+       directly to you and to your family
+
+
+Every man, woman and child between the ages of 7 and 94 is going
+through a process of growth or metamorphosis, whether they know it or
+not. Are you making the most of this opportunity which is coming to
+you (if your age falls within the magic circle given above) every day
+of your life? Do you realize that, during this crucial period, you
+have it in your power to make what you will of yourself, provided only
+that you know how to go about it and make no false steps?
+
+As you grow from day to day, either mentally, morally, or physically,
+you can say to yourself, on awakening in the morning:
+
+"To-day I will develop. I will grow bigger, either mentally, morally
+or physically. Maybe, if it is a nice, warm day, I will grow in all
+three ways at once."
+
+And, sure enough, when evening finds you returning home from the work
+of the day, it will also find you in some way changed from the person
+you were in the morning, either through the shedding of the dry
+epidermis from the backs of your hands (which, according to one of
+Nature's most wonderful processes, is replaced by new epidermis as
+soon as the old is gone), or through the addition of a fraction of an
+inch to your height or girth, or through some other of the inscrutable
+alchemies of Nature.
+
+Think this over as you go to work, to-day, and see if it doesn't tell
+_you_ something about _your_ problem.
+
+
+How I Put Myself on the Map
+
+It was seven o'clock at night when I first struck New York. I had come
+from a Middle Western town to make my fortune as a writer, and I was
+already discouraged. I knew no one in the Big City, and had been
+counting on my membership in the National Geographic Society to find
+me friends among my fellow-members in town. But I soon discovered that
+the fraternity spirit in the East was much less cordial than in my
+home district, and I realized, too late, that I was all alone.
+
+With a few coins that my father had slipped into my hand as I left
+home, I engaged a tiny suite at the St. Regis and there set about my
+writing.
+
+The first 10,000 manuscripts which I sent out, I now have. (I am at
+present working them over into a serial for the _Saturday Evening
+Post_ weekly, from which I expect to make $25,000). But that is
+beside the point. For the purposes of the present narrative, I was a
+failure. The manager of the hotel was pressing me for my rent, which
+was already several hours overdue. I had not tipped the chamber-maid
+since breakfast. I sat looking out at my window, staring at the
+squalid wall of the Hotel Ritz. I had met New York face to face--and I
+had lost.
+
+No, not lost! There was still one chance left I sat down and, with
+feverish haste, wrote out a glowing account of my failure. I spared no
+detail of my degradation, even to taking fruit from the hotel table to
+my room.
+
+Then I began to fabricate. I told how I had overcome all these
+handicaps and had made a success of myself. I lied. I said that I was
+now drawing down $200,000 a year, but that I had never forgotten my
+old friends. It was a good yarn, but it took me a long while to make
+it up. And when, at last, it was ready, I sent it to the _American
+Magazine_.
+
+This is it!
+
+
+How Insane Are You?
+
+Following is a test used in all State Hospitals to determine the
+fitness of the inmates for occasional shore leave. Try it on yourself
+and see where you get off.
+
+
+TEST NO. 1
+
+If you really are the reincarnation of Learning, write something here
+... but if you are being hounded by a lot of relatives whom you
+dislike, ring and walk in. Then, granting all this, how does it come
+about that you, a member of the Interstate Commerce Commission, wear
+no collar?... Ha, ha, we caught you there! But otherwise, write any
+letter beginning with _w_ in this space. Yes, there is the
+space,--what's the matter with you? Go back and look again.... You
+win. Now, in spite of what the neighbors say, give three reasons for
+not giving three reasons why this proves that you are sane, or, as the
+case may be.
+
+
+
+
+HARPER'S MAGAZINE
+
+
+Through the Dobrudja with Gun and Camera
+
+There was a heavy mist falling as we left Ilanlâc, rendering the
+_cozbars_ (native _doblacs_) doubly indistinguishable. This was
+unfortunate, as we had planned on taking many photographs, some of
+which are reproduced here.
+
+Our party consisted of seven members of the Society: Molwinch, young
+Houghbotham, Capt. Ramp, and myself, together with fourteen native
+_barbudos_ (_luksni_ who are under the draft age), a boat's crew, two
+helpers, and some potted tongue. Lieut. Furbearing, the Society's
+press-agent, had sailed earlier in the week, and was to join us at
+Curtea de Argesh.
+
+Before us, as we progressed, lay the Tecuci, shimmering in the
+reflected light of the _sun_ (sun). They were named by their
+discoverer, Joao Galatz, after his uncle, whose name was Wurgle, or,
+as he was known among the natives, "Wurgle." From that time (1808)
+until 1898, no automobile was ever seen on one of the Tecuci, although
+many of the inhabitants subsisted entirely on what we call
+"cottage-cheese."
+
+The weevils of this district (_Curculionidæ_) remarkable for their
+lack of poise. We saw several of them, just at sundown, when,
+according to an old native legend, the weevil comes out to defy the
+God of _Acor_, his ancient enemy, and never, not even in Castanheira,
+have I seen weevils more embarrassed than those upon whom we came
+suddenly at a bend in the Selch River.
+
+Early morning found us filing up the Buzeau Valley, with the
+gun-bearers and bus-boys in single-file behind us, and a picturesque
+lot they were, too, with their lisle socks and queer patch-pockets. In
+taking a picture of them, I walked backward into the Buzeau River,
+which delayed the party, as I had, in my bag, the key with which the
+potted tongue cans were to be opened.
+
+We were fortunate enough to catch several male puffins, which were so
+ingenuous as to eat the carpet-tacks we offered them. The puffin
+(_Thalassidroma buleverii_), is easily distinguishable from the more
+effete robin of America because the two birds are similar in no
+essential points. This makes it convenient for the naturalist, who
+might otherwise get them mixed. Puffins are hunted principally for
+their companionable qualities, a domesticated puffin being held the
+equal--if not quite--of the average Dobrudjan housewife in many
+respects, such as, for instance, self-respect.
+
+It was late in the afternoon of the third day, when we finally reached
+Dimbovitza, and the cool _llemla_ was indeed refreshing. It had been,
+we one and all agreed, a most interesting trip, and we vowed that we
+should not forget our Three Days in the Dobrudja.
+
+
+Dead Leaves
+
+"Ain't you got them dishes done up yet, Irma?"
+
+A petulant voice from what, in Central New England, is called the
+"sittin' room," penetrated the cool silence of the farm-house kitchen.
+Irma Hathaway passed her hand heavily before her eyes.
+
+"Yes, Ma," she replied wearily, as she threw a cup at the steel
+engraving of "The Return of the Mayflower" which hung on the kitchen
+wall. She wondered when she would die.
+
+A cold wind blew along the corridor which connected the kitchen with
+the wood-shed. Then, as if disgruntled, it blew back again, like a man
+returning to his room after a fresh handkerchief. Irma shuddered. It
+was all so inexplicably depressing.
+
+For eighteen years the sun had never been able to shine in Bemis
+Corners. God knows it had tried. But there had always been something
+imponderable, something monstrously bleak, which had thrown itself,
+like a great cloak, between the warm light of that body and the grim
+reality of Bemis Corners.
+
+"If Eben had only known," thought Irma, and buried her face in the
+soapy water.
+
+Some one entered the room from the wood-shed, stamping the snow from
+his boots. She knew, without looking up, that it was Ira.
+
+"Why hev you come?" she said softly, lifting her moist eyes to him. It
+was not Ira. It was the hired man. She sobbed pitifully and leaped
+upon the roller-towel which hung on the door, pulling it round and
+round like a captive squirrel in a revolving cage.
+
+"It ain't no use," she moaned.
+
+And, through the cadavers of the apple-trees in the orchard behind the
+house, there rattled a wind from the sea, the sea to which men go down
+in ships never to return, telling of sorrow and all that sort of
+thing.
+
+"Fate," some people call it.
+
+To Irma Hathaway it was all the same.
+
+
+June, July, August
+
+    _Tulips, crocuses and chard,_
+    _And the wax bean_
+    _In the back yard._
+    _And the open road to the land of dreams,_
+    _With the heavy swirl_
+    _Of the singing streams._
+    _Oh! boy!_
+
+
+Unpublished Letters of Mark Twain
+
+_With a foreword by Albert Bigelow Paine_[1]
+
+FOREWORD
+
+
+This letter from Mark Twain to Mr. Horace J. Borrow of Hartford has
+recently been called to my attention by a niece of Mr. Borrow's who
+now lives in Glastonbury. I have no reason to believe that the lady is
+a charlatan, in fact, I have often heard Mark Twain speak of Mr.
+Borrow in the highest terms.
+
+[Footnote 1: The complete works of Mark Twain, with complete forewords
+by Mr. Paine are, oddly enough, published by Harper and Bros. who,
+oddly enough, also publish this magazine. We celebrate this
+coincidence by offering the complete set to our readers on easy and
+friendly terms.]
+
+
+_Mr. Horace J. Borrow_
+_Hartford, Connecticut_
+
+Dear Mr. Borrow: Enclosed find check for ten dollars ($10) in payment
+of my annual dues for the year 1891-2.
+
+Yours truly,
+    (Signed) S.L. CLEMENS.
+
+
+Highways and By-Ways in Old Fall River
+
+The chance visitor to Fall River may be said, like the old fisherman
+in "Bartholomew Fair," to have "seen half the world, without tasting
+its savor." Wandering down the Main Street, with its clanging
+trolley-cars and noisy drays, one wonders (as, indeed, one may well
+wonder), if all this is a manifestation so much of Fall River as it is
+of that for which Fall River stands.
+
+Frankly, I do not know.
+
+But there is something in the air, something ineffable in the swirl of
+the smoke from the towering stacks, which sings, to the rhythm of the
+clashing shuttles and humming looms, of a day when old gentlemen in
+belted raglans and cloth-topped boots strolled through these streets,
+bearing with them the legend of mutability. Perhaps "mutability" is
+too strong a word. Fall Riverians would think so.
+
+And the old Fall River Line! What memories does that name not awaken
+in the minds of globe-trotters? Or, rather, what memories _does_ it
+awaken? William Lloyd Garrison is said to have remarked upon one
+occasion to Benjamin Butler that one of the most grateful features of
+Fall River was the night-boat for New York. To which Butler is
+reported to have replied: "But, my dear Lloyd, there is no night-boat
+to New York, and there won't be until along about 1875 or even later.
+So your funny crack, in its essential detail, falls flat."
+
+But, regardless of all this, the fact remains that Fall River is Fall
+River, and that it is within easy motoring distance of Newport, which
+offers our art department countless opportunities for charming
+illustrations.
+
+
+The Editor's Drawer
+
+Little Bobby, aged five, saying his prayers, had come to that most
+critical of diplomatic crises: the naming of relatives to be blessed.
+
+"Why don't I ask God to bless Aunt Mabel?" he queried, looking up with
+a roguish twinkle in his blue eyes.
+
+"But you do, Bobby," answered his mother.
+
+"So I do," was his prompt reply.
+
+Little Willy, aged seven, was asked by his teacher to define the word
+"confuse." "'Confuse' is what my daddy says when he looks at his
+watch," said Willy. The teacher never asked that question again. At
+least, not of Willy.
+
+Little Gertrude, aged three, was saying her prayers. "Is God
+everywhere?" she asked.
+
+"Yes, dear, everywhere," answered her mother.
+
+"_Everywhere?_" she persisted.
+
+"Yes, dear, _everywhere,_" repeated her mother, all unsuspecting.
+
+"Then He must be like Uncle Ned," said the little tot.
+
+"Why, Gertrude, what makes you say that?"
+
+"Because I heard Daddy say that Uncle Ned was everywhere," was the
+astounding reply.
+
+
+
+
+THE SATURDAY EVENING POST
+
+
+THE LAST MATCH
+
+By Roy Comfort Ashurst
+
+Slowly the girl in the green hat approached the swinging door of the
+hotel.
+
+She was thinking.
+
+A man more versed in the ways of womankind than Ned Pillsbury might,
+perhaps, have perceived that she was also glancing surreptitiously
+upwards through the dark fringe of lashes which veiled her brown gypsy
+eyes, but Ned was not a trained observer in such matters. To him, as
+he sat in the large, roomy leather chair in the lobby, the only
+reaction was
+
+(_Continued on page 49_)
+
+
+ARE YOU SURE OF YOUR CRANK-SHAFT?
+
+The answer to this question is the answer to the peace of mind with
+which you operate your motor. Whether you are the operator of an
+automobile, or one of those intrepid spirits to whom the world-war has
+given the vision of flying through the air at 175 miles an hour, you
+need to give pause and say to yourself:
+
+"Just how much faith can I put in my crank-shaft?"
+
+And if it is a Zimco crank-shaft, made in the factory of a thousand
+sky-lights, you may be sure that it will stand the test.
+
+Zimco crank-shafts have that indefinable quality which gives them
+personality among crank-shafts. You know a Zimco when you see one and
+you feel that it is an old friend. It does everything but speak. And
+that its host of friends do for it.
+
+Let us send you free our handsome little booklet on
+"After-the-War-Problems."
+
+
+(_Continued from page 8_)
+
+     one of amazement that there could be such a beautiful person
+     alive in this generation.
+
+     Ned was a young man of great possibilities, but few
+     probabilities. Born in the confusion of an up-state city, and
+     educated in the hub-bub of a large college, on whose football
+     team he had distinguished himself in the position of
+     left-halfback, he had never been so fortunate as to receive
+     that quiet instruction in dark brown eyelashes and their
+     potentialities which has been found to be so highly essential
+     to the equipment
+
+(_Continued on page 107_)
+
+
+INTRODUCING THE 7-TON GARGANTUA TRUCK
+
+This important announcement is made by the Gargantua Company with a
+full realization of its significance. We realize that we are creating
+a new thing in trucks.
+
+The Gargantua combines all the qualities of the truck with the
+conveniences of a Fall River boat. Its transmission system has been
+called "The Queen of Transmissions." The efficacy of its bull-pinions
+in the tractor attachment has been the subject of enthusiastic praise
+from bull-pinion experts on all continents.
+
+The Gargantua is the result of a dream. Henry L. McFern (now president
+of the Gargantua Co.), was the dreamer. Mr. McFern wanted something
+that would revolutionize the truck business, and yet still be a truck.
+He gave it the thought of all his waking hours. His friends called him
+a "dreamer," but Henry McFern only smiled. When first he brought out
+the model of the Gargantua it was called "McFern's Folly," but Henry
+McFern only smiled the more. And when the time came for the test, it
+was seen that the "dreamer" of South Bend had given the world a _new_
+Idea.
+
+(_Continued from page 49_)
+
+     of a man of the world to-day. He knew that women were strange
+     creatures, for this popular superstition reaches even to the
+     recesses of the most exclusive of male retreats, but further
+     than that he was uninformed. He had, it is true, like many
+     another young man, felt the influence of certain pairs of
+     blue eyes
+
+(_Continued on page 113_)
+
+
+I AM THE STRENGTH OF AGES
+
+¶I have sprung from the depths of the hills.
+
+¶Before the rivers were brought forth, or even before the green leaves
+in their softness made the landscape, I was your servant.
+
+¶From the bowels of the earth, where men toil in darknesss, I come,
+bringing a message of insuperable strength.
+
+¶From sun to sun I meet and overcome the forces of nature, brothers of
+mine, yet opponents; kindred, yet foes.
+
+¶I am silent, but my voice re-echoes beyond the ends of the earth.
+
+¶I am master, yet I am slave.
+
+¶I am Woonsocket Wrought Iron Pipe, "the Strongest in the Long Run."
+(Trademark.)
+
+Send for illustrated booklet entitled
+
+"_The Romance of Iron Pipe._"
+
+
+(_Continued from page 107_)
+
+     which had come into his life during the years when he was in
+     susceptible moods, but such occurrences were not the result
+     of any realization on his part of their significance. They
+     were in the same category of physical phenomena as includes
+     measles or chicken-pox, for example,--the direct result of a
+     certain
+
+(_Continued on page 125_)
+
+
+WHY WORRY OVER CHISEL TROUBLES?
+
+"You've got the right kind of chisel there. I see it's a Blimco. I've
+always found that Blimco chisels stand up longer under everyday usage,
+and I tell my foremen to see to it that the men always have their
+Blimcoes and no other. I have tried the others, but have always come
+back to the Blimco. I suppose it is because the Blimco is made by
+master-workmen, supervised by experts and sold only by dealers who
+know the best tools. When you see a Blimco in a dealer's window, you
+may know that that dealer is a man of discrimination. The
+discriminating workman always uses a Blimco. 'The Chisel of
+Distinction.' Clip this coupon and send it NOW for our instructive
+booklet 'Chiselling Prosperity'."
+
+
+(_Continued from page 113_)
+
+     temporary debility which renders the patient susceptible to
+     infection.
+
+     Ned Pillsbury was therefore somewhat overcome by the vision
+     of the girl with the green hat, and suffered from that
+     feeling of pioneering emotion which must have affected Mr.
+     Balboa who, according to the poet, stood "silent on a peak in
+     Darien" survey-
+
+(_Continued on page 140_)
+
+
+MAKE YOUR PISTON-RINGS WORK FOR YOU
+
+Why should you persist in being ashamed of your piston-rings?
+
+Why should you make your wife and daughter suffer the humiliation
+which comes from knowing that you are using an inferior make?
+
+"Emancipator" Piston-Rings cost more than ordinary piston-rings, but
+they are worth it. They are worth more even than we ask.
+
+What would it mean to you to know that you were not losing steam power
+because of a faulty piston-ring? Wouldn't it be worth a few extra
+dollars?
+
+Napoleon once said that an army marches on its stomach.
+
+If this has any relation to piston-rings, we fail to see it. But it
+has as much relation to piston-rings as a matter of price does when
+steam economy is at stake.
+
+"Emancipator" Piston-Rings bring twice the power with one-half the
+trouble. That's why we call them "Emancipator."
+
+Ask your grocer about "Emancipators." He will tell you to ask your
+garage-man. In the meantime, let us send you our catalog.
+
+
+(_Continued from page 125_)
+
+     ing the Pacific. He was aware of a strange exaltation
+     coursing through his veins, and before he knew it, he was on
+     his feet and pushing through the revolving door in the
+     compartment behind the green hat.
+
+(_Continued on page 156_)
+
+
+YOU, MR. LEATHER-BELTING-USER!
+
+What is your problem?
+
+Do you wake up in the morning with green spots before your eyes? Are
+you depressed? Does the thought of a day's work with an unsatisfactory
+belting weigh upon your mind, bringing on acidosis, hardening of the
+arteries, and a feeling of opposition to the League of Nations?
+
+If so, let us tackle your problem for you.
+
+We have built up a service department which stands alone in its field.
+For sixteen years we have been making it the perfect institution that
+it is to-day.
+
+Bring your belting troubles to Mr. Henry W. Wurlitz, who is at the
+head of our service department, and he will set you right. He will
+show you the way to a Bigger, Better, Belting outlook.
+
+
+(_Continued from page 140_)
+
+     "I beg your pardon," he said softly, as they emerged on the
+     street, "but did you drop this flask?"
+
+     She turned quickly and faced him. There was a twinkle in her
+     dark brown eyes as she answered him:
+
+(_To be continued_)
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Of All Things, by Robert C. Benchley
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 37660 ***
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+
+
+<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 37660 ***</div>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 533px;">
+<img src="images/img01_cover.jpg" width="533" alt="book cover" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<h1>OF ALL THINGS</h1>
+
+<h3>BY</h3>
+
+<h2>ROBERT C. BENCHLEY</h2>
+
+<h4>NEW YORK</h4>
+<h4>HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY</h4>
+
+<h4>1921</h4>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 95%;" />
+
+<p class="small"><a href="#CONTENTS">Table of contents</a></p>
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+
+<blockquote>
+<p class="cap_ctr">TO<br /> HENRY BESSEMER</p>
+
+<p>Without whose tireless patience, unswerving
+industry and inexhaustible zeal the Bessemer
+steel converter would never have become a
+reality, this book is affectionately dedicated by</p>
+
+<p class="cap_ctr">THE AUTHOR.</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p>These sketches appeared originally in <i>Vanity Fair</i>, <i>The
+New York Tribune Sunday Magazine</i>, <i>Collier's Weekly</i>,
+<i>Life</i>, and <i>Motor Print</i>, all but two of these magazines
+immediately afterward having either discontinued publication
+or changed hands. To those which are old
+enough to remember, and to the new managements of
+the others, the author offers grateful acknowledgment for
+permission to reprint the material in this book. (As a
+matter of fact, permission was never asked, but they
+probably won't mind anyway.)</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="PREFACE" id="PREFACE"></a>PREFACE</h3>
+
+
+<p>When, in the Course of human events, it becomes
+necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands
+which have connected them with another, and to assume
+among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal
+station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's
+God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of
+mankind requires that they should declare the causes
+which impel them to the separation.</p>
+
+<p>We hold these truths to be self-evident,&mdash;that all men
+are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator
+with certain unalienable Rights; that among these are
+Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. That to
+secure these rights, Governments are instituted among
+Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the
+governed,&mdash;That whenever any Form of Government becomes
+destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the
+People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new
+Government, laying its foundation on such principles
+and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall
+seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness.
+Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long
+established should not be changed for light and transient
+causes; and accordingly all experience hath shewn, that
+mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable,
+than to right themselves by abolishing the forms
+to which they are accustomed. But when a long train
+of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same
+Object, evinces a design to reduce them under absolute
+Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off
+such Government, and to provide new Guards for their
+own future security. Such has been the patient sufferance
+of these Colonies; and such is now the necessity
+which constrains them to alter their former Systems of
+Government. The history of the present King of Great
+Britain is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations,
+all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute
+Tyranny over these States. To prove this, let Facts
+be submitted to a candid world.</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 26em;">R.C.B.</span><br />
+<br />
+<br />
+"The Rookery"<br />
+Breeming Downs<br />
+Wippet-cum-Twyne<br />
+New York City<br />
+August 24, 1921<br />
+</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h3>
+
+<table cellpadding="1">
+<tr><td class="tdrb"></td><td class="tdlb"><a href="#PREFACE">PREFACE</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"></td><td class="tdlb"><a href="#OF_ALL_THINGS">OF ALL THINGS!</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"><a href="#I">I</a></td><td class="tdl"> THE SOCIAL LIFE OF THE NEWT</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"><a href="#II">II</a></td><td class="tdl"> "COFFEE, MEGG AND ILK, PLEASE"</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"><a href="#III">III</a></td><td class="tdl"> WHEN GENIUS REMAINED YOUR HUMBLE SERVANT</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"><a href="#IV">IV</a></td><td class="tdl"> THE TORTURES OF WEEKEND VISITING</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"><a href="#V">V</a></td><td class="tdl"> GARDENING NOTES</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"><a href="#VI">VI</a></td><td class="tdl"> LESSON NUMBER ONE</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"><a href="#VII">VII</a></td><td class="tdl"> THOUGHTS ON FUEL SAVING</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"><a href="#VIII">VIII</a></td><td class="tdl"> NOT ACCORDING TO HOYLE</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"><a href="#IX">IX</a></td><td class="tdl"> FROM NINE TO FIVE</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"><a href="#X">X</a></td><td class="tdl"> TURNING OVER A NEW LEDGER LEAF</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"><a href="#XI">XI</a></td><td class="tdl"> A PIECE OF ROAST BEEF</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"><a href="#XII">XII</a></td><td class="tdl"> THE COMMUNITY MASQUE AS A SUBSTITUTE FOR WAR</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"><a href="#XIII">XIII</a></td><td class="tdl"> CALL FOR MR. KENWORTHY!</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"><a href="#XIV">XIV</a></td><td class="tdl"> FOOTBALL; COURTESY OF MR. MORSE</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"><a href="#XV">XV</a></td><td class="tdl"> A LITTLE DEBIT IN YOUR TONNEAU</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"><a href="#XVI">XVI</a></td><td class="tdl"> A ROMANCE IN ENCYCLOPÆDIA LAND</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"><a href="#XVII">XVII</a></td><td class="tdl"> THE PASSING OF THE ORTHODOX PARADOX</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"><a href="#XVIII">XVIII</a></td><td class="tdl"> SHAKESPEARE EXPLAINED</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"><a href="#XIX">XIX</a></td><td class="tdl">THE SCIENTIFIC SCENARIO</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"></td><td class="tdlb"><a href="#CAST_OF_CHARACTERS">CAST OF CHARACTERS</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"><a href="#XX">XX</a></td><td class="tdl"> THE MOST POPULAR BOOK OF THE MONTH</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"><a href="#XXI">XXI</a></td><td class="tdl"> CHRISTMAS AFTERNOON</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"><a href="#XXII">XXII</a></td><td class="tdl"> HAIL, VERNAL EQUINOX!</td></tr>
+<tr><td><br /></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"></td><td class="tdlb"><a href="#TABLOID_EDITIONS">TABLOID EDITIONS</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"></td><td class="tdlb"><a href="#THE_AMERICAN_MAGAZINE">THE AMERICAN MAGAZINE</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"></td><td class="tdlb"><a href="#HARPERS_MAGAZINE">HARPER'S MAGAZINE</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"></td><td class="tdlb"><a href="#THE_SATURDAY_EVENING_POST">THE SATURDAY EVENING POST</a></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="OF_ALL_THINGS" id="OF_ALL_THINGS"></a>OF ALL THINGS!</h2>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="I" id="I"></a>I</h3>
+
+<h4>THE SOCIAL LIFE OF THE NEWT</h4>
+
+
+<p>It is not generally known that the newt, although
+one of the smallest of our North American animals,
+has an extremely happy home-life. It is just
+one of those facts which never get bruited about.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 333px;">
+<img src="images/img02_p003.jpg" width="333"
+alt="Since that time I have practically lived among the newts" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>I first became interested in the social phenomena
+of newt life early in the spring of 1913, shortly
+after I had finished my researches in sexual differentiation
+among amœba. Since that time I have
+practically lived among newts, jotting down observations,
+making lantern-slides, watching them in their
+work and in their play (and you may rest assured
+that the little rogues have their play&mdash;as who does
+not?) until, from much lying in a research posture
+on my stomach, over the inclosure in which they
+were confined, I found myself developing what I
+feared might be rudimentary creepers. And so, late
+this autumn, I stood erect and walked into my house,
+where I immediately set about the compilation of the
+notes I had made.</p>
+
+<p>So much for the non-technical introduction. The
+remainder of this article bids fair to be fairly scientific.</p>
+
+<p>In studying the more intimate phases of newt life,
+one is chiefly impressed with the methods by means
+of which the males force their attentions upon the
+females, with matrimony as an object. For the newt
+is, after all, only a newt, and has his weaknesses
+just as any of the rest of us. And I, for one, would
+not have it different. There is little enough fun in
+the world as it is.</p>
+
+<p>The peculiar thing about a newt's courtship is
+its restraint. It is carried on, at all times, with
+a minimum distance of fifty paces (newt measure)
+between the male and the female. Some of the
+bolder males may now and then attempt to overstep
+the bounds of good sportsmanship and crowd
+in to forty-five paces, but such tactics are frowned
+upon by the Rules Committee. To the eye of an
+uninitiated observer, the pair might be dancing a few
+of the more open figures of the minuet.</p>
+
+<p>The means employed by the males to draw the
+attention and win the affection of those of the opposite
+sex (females) are varied and extremely strategic.
+Until the valuable researches by Strudlehoff in
+1887 (in his "<i>Entwickelungsmechanik</i>") no one
+had been able to ascertain just what it was that the
+male newt did to make the female see anything
+in him worth throwing herself away on. It had been
+observed that the most personally unattractive newt
+could advance to within fifty paces of a female of
+his acquaintance and, by some <i>coup d'Å“il</i>, bring her
+to a point where she would, in no uncertain terms,
+indicate her willingness to go through with the marriage
+ceremony at an early date.</p>
+
+<p>It was Strudlehoff who discovered, after watching
+several thousand courting newts under a magnifying
+lens (questionable taste on his part, without
+doubt, but all is fair in pathological love) that
+the male, during the courting season (the season
+opens on the tenth of March and extends through
+the following February, leaving about ten days for
+general overhauling and redecorating) gives forth
+a strange, phosphorescent glow from the center of
+his highly colored dorsal crest, somewhat similar in
+effect to the flash of a diamond scarfpin in a red
+necktie. This glow, according to Strudlehoff, so
+fascinates the female with its air of elegance and
+indication of wealth, that she immediately falls a
+victim to its lure.</p>
+
+<p>But the little creature, true to her sex-instinct,
+does not at once give evidence that her morale has
+been shattered. She affects a coyness and lack of
+interest, by hitching herself sideways along the bottom
+of the aquarium, with her head turned over her
+right shoulder away from the swain. A trained ear
+might even detect her whistling in an indifferent
+manner.</p>
+
+<p>The male, in the meantime, is flashing his gleamer
+frantically two blocks away and is performing all
+sorts of attractive feats, calculated to bring the lady
+newt to terms. I have seen a male, in the stress
+of his handicap courtship, stand on his fore-feet,
+gesticulating in amorous fashion with his hind feet
+in the air. Franz Ingehalt, in his "Ãœber Weltschmerz
+des Newt," recounts having observed a distinct
+and deliberate undulation of the body, beginning
+with the shoulders and ending at the filament
+of the tail, which might well have been the origin
+of what is known to-day in scientific circles as "the
+shimmy." The object seems to be the same, except
+that in the case of the newt, it is the male who is
+the active agent.</p>
+
+<p>In order to test the power of observation in the
+male during these manœuvers, I carefully removed
+the female, for whose benefit he was undulating, and
+put in her place, in slow succession, another (but
+less charming) female, a paper-weight of bronze
+shaped like a newt, and, finally, a common rubber
+eraser. From the distance at which the courtship
+was being carried on, the male (who was, it must
+be admitted, a bit near-sighted congenitally) was
+unable to detect the change in personnel, and continued,
+even in the presence of the rubber eraser,
+to gyrate and undulate in a most conscientious manner,
+still under the impression that he was making
+a conquest.</p>
+
+<p>At last, worn out by his exertions, and disgusted
+at the meagerness of the reaction on the eraser,
+he gave a low cry of rage and despair and staggered
+to a nearby pan containing barley-water, from
+which he proceeded to drink himself into a gross
+stupor.</p>
+
+<p>Thus, little creature, did your romance end, and
+who shall say that its ending was one whit less tragic
+than that of Camille? Not I, for one.... In fact,
+the two cases are not at all analogous.</p>
+
+<p>And now that we have seen how wonderfully Nature
+works in the fulfilment of her laws, even among
+her tiniest creatures, let us study for a minute a
+cross-section of the community-life of the newt. It
+is a life full of all kinds of exciting adventure, from
+weaving nests to crawling about in the sun and
+catching insect larvæ and crustaceans. The newt's
+day is practically never done, largely because the
+insect larvæ multiply three million times as fast as
+the newt can possibly catch and eat them. And it
+takes the closest kind of community team-work in
+the newt colony to get things anywhere near cleaned
+up by nightfall.</p>
+
+<p>It is early morning, and the workers are just
+appearing, hurrying to the old log which is to be
+the scene of their labors. What a scampering!
+What a bustle! Ah, little scamperers! Ah, little
+bustlers! How lucky you are, and how wise! You
+work long hours, without pay, for the sheer love
+of working. An ideal existence, I'll tell the scientific
+world.</p>
+
+<p>Over here on the right of the log are the Master
+Draggers. Of all the newt workers, they are the
+most futile, which is high praise indeed. Come,
+let us look closer and see what it is that they are
+doing.</p>
+
+<p>The one in the lead is dragging a bit of gurry out
+from the water and up over the edge into the sunlight.
+Following him, in single file, come the rest
+of the Master Draggers. They are not dragging
+anything, but are sort of helping the leader by
+crowding against him and eating little pieces out
+of the filament of his tail.</p>
+
+<p>And now they have reached the top. The leader,
+by dint of much leg-work, has succeeded in dragging
+his prize to the ridge of the log.</p>
+
+<p>The little workers, reaching the goal with their
+precious freight, are now giving it over to the
+Master Pushers, who have been waiting for them in
+the sun all this while. The Master Pushers' work
+is soon accomplished, for it consists simply in pushing
+the piece of gurry over the other side of the
+log until it falls with a splash into the water, where
+it is lost.</p>
+
+<p>This part of their day's task finished, the tiny
+toilers rest, clustered together in a group, waving
+their heads about from side to side, as who should
+say: "There&mdash;that's done!" And so it <i>is</i> done,
+my little Master Draggers and my little Master
+Pushers, and <i>well</i> done, too. Would that my own
+work were as clean-cut and as satisfying.</p>
+
+<p>And so it goes. Day in and day out, the busy
+army of newts go on making the world a better
+place in which to live. They have their little trials
+and tragedies, it is true, but they also have their
+fun, as any one can tell by looking at a logful of
+sleeping newts on a hot summer day.</p>
+
+<p>And, after all, what more has life to offer?</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="II" id="II"></a>II</h3>
+
+<h4>"COFFEE, MEGG AND ILK, PLEASE"</h4>
+
+
+<p>Give me any topic in current sociology, such
+as "The Working Classes <i>vs.</i> the Working
+Classes," or "Various Aspects of the Minimum
+Wage," and I can talk on it with considerable confidence.
+I have no hesitation in putting the Workingman,
+as such, in his place among the hewers of
+wood and drawers of water&mdash;a necessary adjunct
+to our modern life, if you will, but of little real
+consequence in the big events of the world.</p>
+
+<p>But when I am confronted, in the flesh, by the
+"close up" of a workingman with any vestige of
+authority, however small, I immediately lose my
+perspective&mdash;and also my poise. I become servile,
+almost cringing. I feel that my modest demands on
+his time may, unless tactfully presented, be offensive
+to him and result in something, I haven't been able
+to analyze just what, perhaps public humiliation.</p>
+
+<p>For instance, whenever I enter an elevator in a
+public building I am usually repeating to myself the
+number of the floor at which I wish to alight. The
+elevator man gives the impression of being a social
+worker, filling the job just for that day to help
+out the regular elevator man, and I feel that the
+least I can do is to show him that I know what's
+what. So I don't tell him my floor number as soon
+as I get in. Only elderly ladies do that. I keep
+whispering it over to myself, thinking to tell it to
+the world when the proper time comes. But then
+the big question arises&mdash;what is the proper time?
+If I want to get out at the eighteenth floor, should
+I tell him at the sixteenth or the seventeenth? I
+decide on the sixteenth and frame my lips to say,
+"Eighteen out, please." (Just why one should
+have to add the word "out" to the number of the
+floor is not clear. When you say "eighteen" the
+obvious construction of the phrase is that you want
+to get <i>out</i> at the eighteenth floor, not that you
+want to get in there or be let down through the
+flooring of the car at that point. However, you'll
+find the most sophisticated elevator riders, namely,
+messenger boys, always adding the word "out," and
+it is well to follow what the messenger boys do in
+such matters if you don't want to go wrong.)</p>
+
+<p>So there I am, mouthing the phrase, "Eighteen
+out, please," as we shoot past the tenth&mdash;eleventh&mdash;twelfth&mdash;thirteenth
+floors. Then I begin to get
+panicky. Supposing that I should forget my lines!
+Or that I should say them too soon! Or too late!
+We are now at the fifteenth floor. I clear my throat.
+Sixteen! Hoarsely I murmur, "Eighteen out."
+But at the same instant a man with a cigar in his
+mouth bawls, "Seventeen out!" and I am not heard.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 439px;">
+<img src="images/img03_p012.jpg" width="439"
+alt="At the same instant a man with a cigar in his mouth bawls,
+'Seventeen out!'" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>The car stops at seventeen, and I step confidentially
+up to the elevator man and repeat, with an attempt
+at nonchalance, "Eighteen out, please." But just
+as I say the words the door clangs, drowning out
+my request, and we shoot up again. I make another
+attempt, but have become inarticulate and
+succeed only in making a noise like a man strangling.
+And by this time we are at the twenty-first
+floor with no relief in sight. Shattered, I retire to
+the back of the car and ride up to the roof and
+down again, trying to look as if I worked in the
+building and had to do it, however boresome it
+might be. On the return trip I don't care what
+the elevator man thinks of me, and tell him at
+every floor that I, personally, am going to get off
+at the eighteenth, no matter what any one else
+in the car does. I am dictatorial enough when I
+am riled. It is only in the opening rounds that I
+hug the ropes.</p>
+
+<p>My timidity when dealing with minor officials
+strikes me first in my voice. I have any number
+of witnesses who will sign statements to the effect
+that my voice changed about twelve years ago, and
+that in ordinary conversation my tone, if not especially
+virile, is at least consistent and even. But
+when, for instance, I give an order at a soda fountain,
+if the clerk overawes me at all, my voice breaks
+into a yodel that makes the phrase "Coffee, egg and
+milk" a pretty snatch of song, but practically worthless
+as an order.</p>
+
+<p>If the soda counter is lined with customers and
+the clerks so busy tearing up checks and dropping
+them into the toy banks that they seem to resent
+any call on their drink-mixing abilities, I might just
+as well save time and go home and shake up an egg
+and milk for myself, for I shall not be waited on
+until every one else has left the counter and they
+are putting the nets over the caramels for the night.
+I know that. I've gone through it too many times
+to be deceived.</p>
+
+<p>For there is something about the realization that
+I must shout out my order ahead of some one else
+that absolutely inhibits my shouting powers. I will
+stand against the counter, fingering my ten-cent
+check and waiting for the clerk to come near enough
+for me to tell him what I want, while, in the meantime,
+ten or a dozen people have edged up next to
+me and given their orders, received their drinks
+and gone away. Every once in a while I catch a
+clerk's eye and lean forward murmuring, "Coffee"&mdash;but
+that is as far as I get. Some one else has
+shoved his way in and shouted, "Coca-Cola," and
+I draw back to get out of the way of the vichy spray.
+(Incidentally, the men who push their way in and
+footfault on their orders always ask for "Coca-Cola."
+Somehow it seems like painting the lily for
+them to order a nerve tonic.)</p>
+
+<p>I then decide that the thing for me to do is to
+speak up loud and act brazenly. So I clear my
+throat, and, placing both hands on the counter, emit
+what promises to be a perfect bellow: "COFFEE,
+MEGG AND ILK." This makes just about the
+impression you'd think it would, both on my neighbors
+and the clerk, especially as it is delivered in
+a tone which ranges from a rich barytone to a rather
+rasping tenor. At this I withdraw and go to the
+other end of the counter, where I can begin life
+over again with a clean slate.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 455 px;">
+<img src="images/img04_p015.jpg" width="455"
+alt="Placing both hands on the counter, I emit what promises to be
+a perfect bellow." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Here, perhaps, I am suddenly confronted by an
+impatient clerk who is in a perfect frenzy to grab
+my check and tear it into bits to drop in his box.
+"What's yours?" he flings at me. I immediately
+lose my memory and forget what it was that I
+wanted. But here is a man who has a lot of people
+to wait on and who doubtless gets paid according
+to the volume of business he brings in. I have no
+right to interfere with his work. There is a big
+man edging his way beside me who is undoubtedly
+going to shout "Coca-Cola" in half a second. So
+I beat him to it and say, "Coca-Cola," which is
+probably the last drink in the store that I want to
+buy. But it is the only thing that I can remember
+at the moment, in spite of the fact that I have been
+thinking all morning how good a coffee, egg and milk
+would taste. I suppose that one of the psychological
+principles of advertising is to so hammer the name
+of your product into the mind of the timid buyer
+that when he is confronted by a brusk demand for
+an order be can't think of anything else to say,
+whether he wants it or not.</p>
+
+<p>This dread of offending the minor official or appearing
+to a disadvantage before a clerk extends
+even to my taking nourishment. I don't think that
+I have ever yet gone into a restaurant and ordered
+exactly what I wanted. If only the waiter would
+give me the card and let me alone for, say, fifteen
+minutes, as he does when I want to get him
+to bring me my check, I could work out a meal along
+the lines of what I like. But when he stands over
+me, with disgust clearly registered on his face, I
+order the thing I like least and consider myself
+lucky to get out of it with so little disgrace.</p>
+
+<p>And yet I have no doubt that if one could see
+him in his family life the Workingman is just an
+ordinary person like the rest of us. He is probably
+not at all as we think of him in our dealings with
+him&mdash;a harsh, dictatorial, intolerant autocrat, but
+rather a kindly soul who likes nothing better than
+to sit by the fire with his children and read.</p>
+
+<p>And he would probably be the first person to
+scoff at the idea that he could frighten me.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="III" id="III"></a>III</h3>
+
+<h4>WHEN GENIUS REMAINED YOUR HUMBLE SERVANT</h4>
+
+
+<p>Of course, I really know nothing about it, but
+I would be willing to wager that the last words
+of Penelope, as Odysseus bounced down the front
+steps, bag in hand, were: "Now, don't forget to
+write, Odie. You'll find some papyrus rolled up
+in your clean peplum, and just drop me a line on
+it whenever you get a chance."</p>
+
+<p>And ever since that time people have been promising
+to write, and then explaining why they haven't
+written. Most personal correspondence of to-day
+consists of letters the first half of which are given
+over to an indexed statement of reasons why the
+writer hasn't written before, followed by one paragraph
+of small talk, with the remainder devoted to
+reasons why it is imperative that the letter be
+brought to a close. So many people begin their
+letters by saying that they have been rushed to death
+during the last month, and therefore haven't found
+time to write, that one wonders where all the grown
+persons come from who attend movies at eleven in
+the morning. There has been a misunderstanding
+of the word "busy" somewhere.</p>
+
+<p>So explanatory has the method of letter writing
+become that it is probable that if Odysseus were a
+modern traveler his letters home to Penelope would
+average something like this:</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Calypso,</i></span><br />
+<i>Friday afternoon.</i><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>DEAR PEN:&mdash;I have been so tied up with work
+during the last week that I haven't had a chance
+to get near a desk to write to you. I have been
+trying to every day, but something would come
+up just at the last minute that would prevent me.
+Last Monday I got the papyrus all unrolled, and
+then I had to tend to Scylla and Charybdis (I may
+have written you about them before), and by the
+time I got through with them it was bedtime, and,
+believe me, I am snatching every bit of sleep I can
+get these days. And so it went, first the Læstrygones,
+and then something else, and here it is Friday.
+Well, there isn't much news to write about.
+Things are going along here about as usual. There
+is a young nymph here who seems to own the place,
+but I haven't had any chance to meet her socially.
+Well, there goes the ship's bell. I guess I had better
+be bringing this to a close. I have got a lot
+of work to do before I get dressed to go to a dinner
+of that nymph I was telling you about. I have met
+her brother, and he and I are interested in the same
+line of goods. He was at Troy with me. Well, I
+guess I must be closing. Will try to get off a longer
+letter in a day or two.</p>
+
+<p>
+Your loving husband,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">ODIE.</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>P.S.&mdash;You haven't got that bunch of sports hanging
+round the palace still, have you? Tell Telemachus
+I'll take him out of school if I hear of his playing
+around with any of them.</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p>But there was a time when letter writing was
+such a fad, especially among the young girls, that
+if they had had to choose between eating three meals
+a day and writing a letter they wouldn't have given
+the meals even a consideration. In fact, they
+couldn't do both, for the length of maidenly letters
+in those days precluded any time out for meals.
+They may have knocked off for a few minutes during
+the heat of the day for a whiff at a bottle of
+salts, but to nibble at anything heartier than lettuce
+would have cramped their style.</p>
+
+<p>Take Miss Clarissa Harlowe, for instance. In
+Richardson's book (which, in spite of my personal
+aversion to it, has been hailed by every great writer,
+from Pope to Stevenson, as being perfectly bully)
+she is given the opportunity of telling 2,400 closely
+printed pages full of story by means of letters to
+her female friend, Miss Howe (who plays a part
+similar to the orchestra leader in Frank Tinney's
+act). And 2,400 pages is nothing to her. When
+the book closes she is just beginning to get her
+stride. As soon as she got through with that she
+probably sat down and wrote a series of letters
+to the London papers about the need for conscription
+to fight the Indians in America.</p>
+
+<p>To a girl like Clarissa, in the middle of the eighteenth
+century, no day was too full of horrors, no
+hour was too crowded with terrific happenings to
+prevent her from seating herself at a desk (she must
+have carried the desk about with her, strapped over
+her shoulder) and tearing off twenty or thirty pages
+to Friend Anna, telling her all about it. The only
+way that I can see in which she could accomplish
+this so efficiently would be to have a copy boy standing
+at her elbow, who took the letter, sheet by sheet,
+as she wrote it, and dashed with it to the printer.</p>
+
+<p>It is hard to tell just which a girl of that period
+considered more important, the experiences she was
+writing of or the letter itself. She certainly never
+slighted the letter. If the experience wanted to overtake
+her, and jump up on the desk beside her, all
+right, but, experience or no experience, she was going
+to get that letter in the next post or die in the
+attempt. Unfortunately, she never died in the
+attempt.</p>
+
+<p>Thus, an attack on a young lady's house by a
+band of cutthroats, resulting in the burning of the
+structure and her abduction, might have been told
+of in the eighteenth century letter system as follows:</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p><i>Monday night.</i></p>
+
+<p>SWEET ANNA:&mdash;At this writing I find myself in
+the most horrible circumstance imaginable. Picture
+to yourself, if you can, my dear Anna, a party of
+villainous brigands, veritable cutthroats, all of them,
+led by a surly fellow in green alpaca with white
+insertion, breaking their way, by very force,
+through the side of your domicile, like so many ugly
+intruders, and threatening you with vile imprecations
+to make you disclose the hiding place of the
+family jewels. If the mere thought of such a contingency
+is painful to you, my beloved Anna, consider
+what it means to me, your delicate friend, to
+whom it is actually happening at this very minute!
+For such is in very truth the situation which is
+disclosing itself in my room as I write. Not three
+feet away from me is the odious person before described.
+Now he is threatening me with renewed
+vigor! Now he has placed his coarse hands on
+my throat, completely hiding the pearl necklace
+which papa brought me from Epsom last summer,
+and which you, and also young Pindleson (whose
+very name I mention with a blush), have so often
+admired. But more of this later, and until then,
+believe me, my dear Anna, to be</p>
+
+<p>
+Your ever distressed and affectionate<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">CL. HARLOWE.</span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p><i>Monday night. Later.</i></p>
+
+<p>DEAREST ANNA:&mdash;Now, indeed, it is evident, my
+best, my only friend, that I am face to face with
+the bitterest of fates. You will remember that in
+my last letter I spoke to you of a party of unprincipled
+knaves who were invading my apartment.
+And now do I find that they have, in furtherance
+of their inexcusable plans, set fire to that portion
+of the house which lies directly behind this, so
+that as I put my pen to paper the flames are creeping,
+like hungry creatures of some sort, through
+the partitions and into this very room, so that did
+I esteem my safety more than my correspondence
+with you, my precious companion, I should at once
+be making preparation for immediate departure. O
+my dear! To be thus seized, as I am at this very
+instant, by the unscrupulous leader of the band and
+carried, by brute force, down the stairway through
+the butler's pantry and into the servants' hall, writing
+as I go, resting my poor paper on the shoulder
+of my detested abductor, is truly, you will agree,
+my sweet Anna, a pitiable episode.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 453 px;">
+<img src="images/img05_p024.jpg" width="453"
+alt="To be thus seized ... is truly, you will agree, my sweet Anna,
+a pitiable episode." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Adieu, my intimate friend.</p>
+
+<p>
+Your obt. s'v't,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">CL. HARLOWE.</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p>One wonders (or, at least, <i>I</i> wonder, and that is
+sufficient for the purposes of this article) what the
+letter writing young lady of that period would have
+done had she lived in this day of postcards showing
+the rocks at Scipawisset or the Free Public Library
+in East Tarvia. She might have used them for
+some of her shorter messages, but I rather doubt it.
+The foregoing scene could hardly have been done
+justice to on a card bearing the picture of the
+Main Street of the town, looking north from the
+Soldiers' Monument, with the following legend:</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>"Our house is the third on the left with the lilac
+bush. Cross marks window where gang of rough-necks
+have just broken in and are robbing and
+burning the house. Looks like a bad night. Wish
+you were here. C.H."</p></blockquote>
+
+<p>No; that would never have done, but it would
+have been a big relief for the postilion, or whoever
+it was that had to carry Miss Clarissa's effusions to
+their destination. The mail on Monday morning,
+after a springlike Sunday, must have been something
+in the nature of a wagon load of rolls of
+news print that used to be seen standing in front
+of newspaper offices in the good old days when
+newspapers were printed on paper stock. Of course,
+the postilion had the opportunity of whiling away
+the time between stations by reading some of the
+spicier bits in the assortment, but even a postilion
+must have had his feelings, and a man can't read
+that kind of stuff <i>all</i> of the time, and still keep his
+health.</p>
+
+<p>Of course, there are a great many people now
+who write letters because they like to. Also, there
+are some who do it because they feel that they
+owe it to posterity and to their publishers to do
+so. As soon as a man begins to sniff a chance that
+he may become moderately famous he is apt to
+brush up on his letter writing and never send anything
+out that has not been polished and proof-read,
+with the idea in mind that some day some
+one is going to get all of his letters together and
+make a book of them. Apparently, most great men
+whose letters have been published have had premonition
+of their greatness when quite young, as their
+childish letters bear the marks of careful and studied
+attention to publicity values. One can almost
+imagine the budding genius, aged eight, sitting at
+his desk and saying to himself:</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 349px;">
+<img src="images/img06_p027.jpg" width="349"
+alt="I must not forget that I am now going
+through the 'Sturm und Drang' period." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>"In this spontaneous letter to my father I must
+not forget that I am now going through the <i>Sturm
+und Drang</i> (storm and stress) period of my youth
+and that this letter will have to be grouped by the
+compiler under the <i>Sturm und Drang</i> (storm and
+stress) section in my collected letters. I must therefore
+keep in the key and quote only such of my favorite
+authors as will contribute to the effect. I
+think I will use Werther to-day.... My dear Father"&mdash;etc.</p>
+
+<p>I have not known many geniuses in their youth,
+but I have had several youths pointed out to me
+by their parents as geniuses, and I must confess
+that I have never seen a letter from any one of them
+that differed greatly from the letters of a normal
+boy, unless perhaps they were spelled less accurately.
+Given certain uninteresting conditions, let us say,
+at boarding school, and I believe that the average
+bright boy's letter home would read something in
+this fashion:</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p>
+<i>Exeter, N.H.,</i><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Wed., April 25.</i></span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>MY DEAR FATHER AND MOTHER:</p>
+
+<p>I have been working pretty hard this week, studying
+for a history examination, and so haven't had
+much of a chance to write to you. Everything is
+about the same as usual here, and there doesn't
+seem to be much news to write to you about. The
+box came all right, and thank you very much. All
+the fellows liked it, especially the little apple pies.
+Thank you very much for sending it. There hasn't
+much been happening here since I wrote you last
+week. I had to buy a new pair of running drawers,
+which cost me fifty cents. Does that come out of
+my allowance? Or will you pay for it? There
+doesn't seem to be any other news. Well, there
+goes the bell, so I guess I will be closing.</p>
+
+<p>
+Your loving son,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">BUXTON.</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p>Given the same, even less interesting conditions,
+and a boy such as Stevenson must have been (judging
+from his letters) could probably have delivered
+himself of this, and more, too:</p>
+
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p>
+<i>Wyckham-Wyckham,</i><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>The Tenth.</i></span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>DEAR PATER:&mdash;To-day has been unbelievably exquisite!
+Great, undulating clouds, rolling in serried
+formation across a sky of pure <i>lapis lazuli</i>. I feel
+like what Updike calls a "myrmidon of unhesitating
+amplitude." And a perfect gem of a letter from
+Toto completed the felicitous experience. You
+would hardly believe, and yet you must, in your
+<i>cœur des cœurs</i>, know, that the brown, esoteric hills
+of this Oriental retreat affect me like the red wine
+of Russilon, and, indigent as I am in these matters,
+I cannot but feel that you have, as Herbert says:</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>"Carve or discourse; do not a famine fear.</i></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><i>Who carves is kind to two, who talks to all."</i></span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>Yesterday I saw a little native boy, a veritable
+boy of the streets, playing at a game at once so
+naïve and so resplendent that I was irresistibly
+drawn to its contemplation. You will doubtless jeer
+when I tell you. He was tossing a small <i>blatch</i>,
+such as grow in great profusion here, to and fro
+between himself and the wall of the <i>limple</i>. I was
+stunned for the moment, and then I realized that
+I was looking into the very soul of the peasantry,
+the open stigma of the nation. How queer it all
+seemed! Did it not?</p>
+
+<p>You doubtless think me an ungrateful fellow for
+not mentioning the delicious assortment of goodies
+which came, like melons to Artemis, to this benighted
+<i>gesellschaft</i> on Thursday last. They were
+devoured to the last crumb, and I was reminded as
+we ate, like so many <i>wurras</i>, of those lines of that
+gorgeous Herbert, of whom I am so fond:</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>"Must all be veiled, while he that reads divines,</i></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><i>Catching the sense at two removes?"</i></span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>The breeze is springing up, and it brings to me
+messages of the open meadows of Litzel, deep festooned
+with the riot of gloriannas. How quiet they
+seem to me as I think of them now! How emblematic!
+Do you know, my dear Parent, that I sometimes
+wonder if, after all, it were not better to
+dream, and dream ... and dream.</p>
+
+<p>
+Your affectionate son,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">BERGQUIST.</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p>So don't worry about your boy if he writes home
+like that. He may simply have an eye for fame and
+future compilation.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="IV" id="IV"></a>IV</h3>
+
+<h4>THE TORTURES OF WEEK-END VISITING</h4>
+
+
+<p>The present labor situation shows to what a
+pretty pass things may come because of a
+lack of understanding between the parties involved.
+I bring in the present labor situation just to give
+a touch of timeliness to this thing. Had I been
+writing for the Christmas number, I should have
+begun as follows: "The indiscriminate giving of
+Christmas presents shows to what a pretty pass
+things may come because of a lack of understanding
+between the parties involved."</p>
+
+<p>The idea to be driven home is that things may
+come to a pretty pass by the parties involved in
+an affair of any kind if they do not come to an
+understanding before commencing operations.</p>
+
+<p>I hope I have made my point clear. Especially
+is this true, (watch out carefully now, as the whole
+nub of the article will be coming along in just a minute),
+especially is this true in the relations between
+host and guest on week-end visits. (There, you have
+it! In fact, the title to this whole thing might very
+well be, "The Need for a Clearer Definition of Relations
+between Host and Guest on Week-end Visits,"
+and not be at all overstating it, at that.)</p>
+
+<p>The logic of this will be apparent to any one who
+has ever been a host or a guest at a week-end party,
+a classification embracing practically all Caucasians
+over eleven years of age who can put powder on
+the nose or tie a bow-tie. Who has not wished that
+his host would come out frankly at the beginning of
+the visit and state, in no uncertain terms, the rules
+and preferences of the household in such matters as
+the breakfast hour? And who has not sounded his
+guest to find out what he likes in the regulation of
+his diet and <i>modus vivendi</i> (mode of living)? Collective
+bargaining on the part of labor unions and
+capital makes it possible for employers to know just
+what the workers think on matters of common interest.
+Is collective bargaining between host and
+guest so impossible, then?</p>
+
+<p>Take, for example, the matter of arising in the
+morning. Of course, where there is a large house-party
+the problem is a simple one, for you can always
+hear the others pattering about and brushing
+their teeth. You can regulate your own arising by
+the number of people who seem to be astir. But
+if you are the only guest there is apt to be a frightful
+misunderstanding.</p>
+
+<p>"At what time is breakfast?" you ask.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, any old time on Sundays," replies the hostess
+with a generous gesture. "Sleep as late as you
+like. This is 'Liberty Hall.'"</p>
+
+<p>The sentiment in this attitude is perfectly bully,
+but there is nothing that you can really take hold
+of in it. It satisfies at the time, but in the morning
+there is a vagueness about it that is simply terrifying.</p>
+
+<p>Let us say that you awake at eight. You listen
+and hear no one stirring. Then, over on the cool
+pillow again until eight-twenty. Again up on the
+elbow, with head cocked on one side. There is a
+creak in the direction of the stairs. They may all
+be up and going down to breakfast! It is but the
+work of a moment, to bound out of bed and listen
+at the door. Perhaps open it modestly and peer out.
+Deathlike silence, broken only, as the phrase goes,
+by the ticking of the hall clock, and not a soul
+in sight. Probably they are late sleepers. Maybe
+eleven o'clock is their Sunday rising hour. Some
+people <i>are</i> like that.</p>
+
+<p>Shut the door and sit on the edge of the bed.
+More sleep is out of the question. Let's take a look
+at the pictures in the guest-room, just to pass the
+time. Here's one of Lorna Doone. How d'e do,
+Lorna? Here's a group&mdash;taken in 1902&mdash;showing
+your host in evening clothes, holding a mandolin.
+Probably a member of his college musical-club.
+Rather unkempt looking bunch, you <i>must</i> say. Well,
+how about this one? An etching, showing suspicious-looking
+barges on what is probably the
+Thames. Fair enough, at that.</p>
+
+<p>Back to the door and listen again. Tick-tock-tick-tock.
+Probably, if you started your tub, you'd wake
+the whole house. Let's sit down on the edge of the
+bed again.</p>
+
+<p>Hello, here are some books on the table. "Fifty
+Famous Sonnets," illustrated by Maxfield Parrish.
+Never touch a sonnet before breakfast. "My experiences
+in the Alps," by a woman mountain-climber
+who has written on the fly-leaf, "To my good friends
+the Elbridges, in memory of many happy days together
+at Chamounix. October, 1907." That settles
+<i>that</i>. "Essay on Compensation" in limp leather,
+by R.W. Emerson, published by Houghton, Mifflin
+&amp; Co. Oh, very well! You suppose they thought
+that would be over your head, did they? Well, we'll
+just show them! We'll read it just for spite. Opening,
+to the red ribbon:</p>
+
+<p>"Of the like nature is that expectation of change
+which instantly follows the suspension of our voluntary
+activity. The terror of cloudless noon&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>By the way, it must be nearly noon now! Ten
+minutes past nine, only! Well, the only thing to
+do is get dressed and go out and walk about the
+grounds. Eliminate the tub as too noisy. And so,
+very cautiously, almost clandestinely, you proceed
+to dress.</p>
+
+<p>And now, just to reverse the process. Suppose
+you are the host. You have arisen at eight and listened
+at the guest's door. No sound. Tip-toe back
+and get dressed, talking in whispers to your wife
+(the hostess) and cramming flannel bears into the
+infant's mouth to keep him from disturbing the
+sleeper.</p>
+
+<p>"Bill looked tired last night. Better let him sleep
+a little longer," you suggest. And so, downstairs on
+your hands and knees, and look over the Sunday
+papers. Then a bracing walk on the porch, resulting
+in a terrific appetite.</p>
+
+<p>A glance at the watch shows nine o'clock. Sunday
+breakfast is usually at eight-thirty. The warm
+aroma of coffee creeps in from the kitchen and,
+somewhere, <i>some one</i> is baking muffins. This is
+awful! You suppose it feels something like this to
+be caught on an ice-floe without any food and so
+starve to death. Only there you can't smell coffee
+and muffins. You sneak into the dining-room and
+steal one of the property oranges from the side-board,
+but little Edgar sees you and sets up such
+a howl that you have to give it to him. The hostess
+suggests that your friend may have the sleeping-sickness.
+Weakened by hunger, you hotly resent
+this, and one word leads to another.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, very well, I'll go up and rout him out,"
+you snarl.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 432px;">
+<img src="images/img07_p037.jpg" width="432"
+alt="'Hello. Bill,' you say flatly." title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Upstairs again, and poise, in listening attitude,
+just in front of the guest's door. Slowly the door
+opens, inch by inch, and, finally his head is edged
+cautiously out toward yours.</p>
+
+<p>"Hello, Bill," you say flatly, "what are you getting
+up this time of the morning for? Thought
+I told you to sleep late."</p>
+
+<p>"Morning, Ed," he says, equally flatly, "hope
+I haven't kept you all waiting." Then you both lie
+and eat breakfast.</p>
+
+<p>Such a misunderstanding is apt to go to almost
+any length. I once knew of a man on a week-end
+visit who spent an entire Sunday in his room, listening
+at his door to see if the family were astir, while,
+in the meantime, the family were, one by one, tip-toeing
+to his door to see if they could detect any
+signs of life from him.</p>
+
+<p>Each thought the other needed rest.</p>
+
+<p>Along about three in the afternoon the family
+threw all hospitality aside and ate breakfast, deadening
+the sound of the cutlery as much as possible,
+little dreaming that their guest was looking through
+the "A Prayer for Each Day" calendar for the
+ninth time and seriously considering letting himself
+down from the window on a sheet and making for
+the next train. Shortly after dark persistent rumors
+got abroad that he had done away with himself,
+and every one went up and sniffed for gas. It was
+only when the maid, who was not in on the secret,
+bolted into the room to turn down his bed for the
+night, that she found him tip-toeing about, packing
+and unpacking his bag and listening eagerly at the
+wall. (Now don't ask how it happened that the
+maid didn't know that his bed hadn't been made
+that morning. What difference does it make, anyway?
+It is such questions as <i>that</i>, that blight any
+attempt at individual writing in this country.)</p>
+
+<p>Don't think, just because I have taken all this
+space to deal with the rising-hour problem that there
+are no other points to be made. Oh, not at all.
+There is, for instance, the question of exercise.
+After dinner the host says to himself: "Something
+must be done. I wonder if he likes to walk." Aloud,
+he says: "Well, Bill, how about a little hike in the
+country?"</p>
+
+<p>A hike in the country being the last thing in the
+world that Bill wants, he says, "Right-o! Anything
+you say." And so, although walking is a tremendous
+trial to the host, who has weak ankles, he
+bundles up with a great show of heartiness and grabs
+his stick as if this were the one thing he lived for.</p>
+
+<p>After about a mile of hobbling along the country-road
+the host says, hopefully: "Don't let me
+tire you out, old man. Any time you want to turn
+back, just say the word."</p>
+
+<p>The guest, thinking longingly of the fireside, scoffs
+at the idea of turning back, insisting that if there is
+one thing in all the world that he likes better than
+walking it is running. So on they jog, hippity-hop,
+hippity-hop, each wishing that it would rain so that
+they could turn about and go home.</p>
+
+<p>Here again the thing may go to almost tragic
+lengths. Suppose neither has the courage to suggest
+the return move. They might walk on into
+Canada, or they might become exhausted and have
+to be taken into a roadhouse and eat a "$2 old-fashioned
+Southern dinner of fried chicken and waffles."
+The imagination revolts at a further contemplation
+of the possibilities of this lack of coöperation
+between guest and host.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 445px;">
+<img src="images/img08_p040.jpg" width="445"
+alt="So on they jog.... Each wishing that it would rain." title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>I once visited a man who had an outdoor swimming-pool
+on his estate. (Consider that as very
+casually said.) It was in April, long before Spring
+had really understood what was expected of her.
+My first night there my host said:</p>
+
+<p>"Are you a morning plunger?"</p>
+
+<p>Thinking that he referred to a tub plunge in a
+warm bathroom, I glowed and said: "You bet."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll call for you at seven in the morning, then,"
+he said, "and we'll go out to the pool."</p>
+
+<p>It was evidently his morning custom and I wasn't
+going to have it said of me that a middle-aged man
+could outdo me in virility. So, at seven in the morning,
+in a dense fog (with now and then a slash of
+cold rain), we picked our way out to the pool and
+staged a vivid Siberian moving picture scene, showing
+naked peasants bathing in the Nevsky. My visit
+lasted five days, and I afterward learned, from one
+to whom my host had confided, that it was the
+worst five days he had ever gone through, and that
+he has chronic joint-trouble as a result of those
+plunges. "But I couldn't be outdone by a mere
+stripling," he said, "and the boy certainly enjoyed
+it."</p>
+
+<p>All of this might have been avoided by the posting
+of a sign in a conspicuous place in my bedroom,
+reading as follows: "Personally, I dislike swimming
+in the pool at this time of the year. Guests
+wishing to do so may obtain towels at the desk."
+How very simple and practical!</p>
+
+<p>The sign system is the only solution I can offer.
+It is crude and brutal, but it admits of no misunderstanding.
+A sign in each guest-room, giving
+the hours of meals, political and religious preferences
+of the family, general views on exercise, etc., etc.,
+with a blank for the guest to fill out, stating his own
+views on these subjects, would make it possible to
+visit (or entertain) with a sense of security thus
+far unknown upon our planet.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="V" id="V"></a>V</h3>
+
+<h4>GARDENING NOTES</h4>
+
+
+<p>During the past month almost every paper,
+with the exception of the agricultural journals,
+has installed an agricultural department, containing
+short articles by Lord Northcliffe, or some
+one else in the office who had an unoccupied typewriter,
+telling the American citizen how to start
+and hold the interest of a small garden. The seed
+catalogue has become the catechism of the patriot,
+and, if you don't like to read the brusk, prosy directions
+on planting as given there, you may find the
+same thing done in verse in your favorite poetry
+magazine, or a special department in <i>The Plumbing
+Age</i> under the heading "The Plumber's Garden:
+How and When to Plant."</p>
+
+<p>But all of these editorial suggestions appear to be
+conducted by professionals for the benefit of the
+layman, which seems to me to be a rather one-sided
+way of going about the thing. Obviously the suggestions
+should come from a layman himself, in the
+nature of warnings to others.</p>
+
+<p>I am qualified to put forth such an article because
+of two weeks' service in my own back yard,
+doing my bit for Peter Henderson and planting
+all sorts of things in the ground without the slightest
+expectation of ever seeing anything of any of
+them again. If, by any chance, a sprout should
+show itself, unmistakably the result of one of my
+plantings, I would be willing to be quoted as saying
+that Nature <i>is</i> wonderful. In fact, I would take it
+as a personal favor, and would feel that anything
+that I might do in the future for Nature would be
+little enough in return for the special work she went
+to all the trouble of doing for me. But all of this
+is on condition that something of mine grows into
+manhood. Otherwise, Nature can go her way and
+I go mine, just as we have gone up till now.</p>
+
+<p>However, although I am an amateur, I shall have
+to adopt, in my writing, the tone of a professional,
+or I shall never get any one to believe what I say.
+If, therefore, from now on I sound a bit cold and
+unfriendly, you will realize that a professional agricultural
+writer has to have <i>some</i> dignity about his
+stuff, and that beneath my rough exterior I am a
+pleasant enough sort of person to meet socially.</p>
+
+
+<p class="cap_ctr"><i>Preparing the Ground for the Garden</i></p>
+
+<p>This is one of the most important things that
+the young gardener is called upon to do. In fact,
+a great many young gardeners never do anything
+further. Some inherited weakness, something they
+never realized they had before, may crop out during
+this process: weak back, tendency of shoulder-blades
+to ossification, misplacement of several important
+vertebræ, all are apt to be discovered for
+the first time during the course of one day's digging.
+If, on the morning following the first attempt
+to prepare the ground for planting, you are able to
+walk in a semi-erect position as far as the bathtub
+(and, without outside assistance, lift one foot into
+the water), you may flatter yourself that you are,
+joint for joint, in as perfect condition as the man
+in the rubber-heels advertisements.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 418px;">
+<img src="images/img09_p045.jpg" width="418"
+alt="If you are able to walk as far as the bathtub..." title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Authorities differ as to the best way of digging.
+All agree that it is impossible to avoid walking
+about during the following week as if you were
+impersonating an old colored waiter with the lumbago;
+but there are two schools, each with its own
+theory, as to the less painful method. One advocates
+bending over, without once raising up, until the
+whole row is dug. The others, of whom I must confess
+that I am one, feel that it is better to draw
+the body to a more or less erect position after each
+shovelful. In support of this contention, Greitz,
+the well-known authority on the muscles of the back,
+says on page 233 of his "Untersuchungen über Sittlichkeitsdelikte
+und Gesellschaftsbiologie":</p>
+
+<p>"The constant tightening and relaxing of the
+<i>latissimus dorsi</i> effected in raising the body as the
+earth is tossed aside, has a tendency to relieve the
+strain by distributing it equally among the <i>serratus
+posticus inferior</i> and the corner of Thirty-fourth
+Street." He then goes on to say practically what
+I have said above.</p>
+
+<p>The necessity for work of such a strenuous
+nature in the mere preliminaries of the process of
+planting a garden is due to the fact that the average
+back-yard has, up till the present time, been
+behaving less like a garden than anything else in
+the world. You might think that a back-yard, possessed
+of an ordinary amount of decency and civic-pride
+would, at some time during its career, have
+said to itself:</p>
+
+<p>"Now look here! I may some day be called
+upon to be a garden, and the least I can do is to
+get myself into some sort of shape, so that, when
+the time comes, I will be fairly ready to receive a
+seed or two."</p>
+
+<p>But no! Year in and year out they have been
+drifting along in a fools' paradise, accumulating
+stones and queer, indistinguishable cans and things,
+until they were prepared to become anything, quarries,
+iron-mines, notion-counters,&mdash;anything but gardens.</p>
+
+<p>I have saved in a box all the things that I have
+dug from my back-yard, and, when I have them
+assembled, all I will need will be a good engine to
+make them into a pretty fairly decent runabout,&mdash;nothing
+elaborate, mind you, but good enough to run
+the family out in on Sunday afternoons.</p>
+
+<p>And then there are lots of other things that
+wouldn't even fit into the runabout. Queer-looking
+objects, they are; things that perhaps in their hey-dey
+were rather stunning, but which have now assumed
+an air of indifference, as if to say, "Oh, call
+me anything, old fellow, Ice-pick, Mainspring,
+Cigar-lighter, anything, I don't care." I tell you,
+it's enough to make a man stop and think. But
+there, I mustn't get sentimental.</p>
+
+<p>In preparing the soil for planting, you will need
+several tools. Dynamite would be a beautiful thing
+to use, but it would have a tendency to get the
+dirt into the front-hall and track up the stairs. This
+not being practicable, there is no other way but
+for you to get at it with a fork (oh, don' be silly),
+a spade, and a rake. If you have an empty and
+detached furnace boiler, you might bring that along
+to fill with the stones you will dig up. If it is a
+small garden, you ought not to have to empty the
+boiler more than three or four times. Any neighbor
+who is building a stone house will be glad to
+contract with you for the stones, and those that
+are left over after he has got his house built can
+be sold to another neighbor who is building another
+stone house. Your market is limited only
+by the number of neighbors who are building stone
+houses.</p>
+
+<p>On the first day, when you find yourself confronted
+by a stretch of untouched ground which is
+to be turned over (technical phrase, meaning to
+"turn over"), you may be somewhat at a loss to
+know where to begin. Such indecision is only natural,
+and should cause no worry on the part of the
+young gardener. It is something we all have to go
+through with. You may feel that it would be futile
+and unsystematic to go about digging up a forkful
+here and a shovelful there, tossing the earth at
+random, in the hope that in due time you will get
+the place dug up. And so it would.</p>
+
+<p>The thing to do is to decide just where you want
+your garden, and what its dimensions are to be.
+This will have necessitated a previous drawing up
+of a chart, showing just what is to be planted and
+where. As this chart will be the cause of considerable
+hard feeling in the family circle, usually
+precipitating a fist-fight over the number of rows
+of onions to be set out, I will not touch on that
+in this article. There are some things too intimate
+for even a professional agriculturist to write of. I
+will say, however, that those in the family who are
+standing out for onions might much better save
+their time and feelings by pretending to give in,
+and then, later in the day, sneaking out and slipping
+the sprouts in by themselves in some spot
+where they will know where to find them again.</p>
+
+<p>Having decided on the general plan and dimensions
+of the plot, gather the family about as if for
+a corner-stone dedication, and then make a rather
+impressive ceremony of driving in the first stake by
+getting your little boy to sing the first twelve words
+of some patriotic air. (If he doesn't know the first
+twelve, any twelve will do. The idea is to keep the
+music going during the driving of the stake.)</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 451px;">
+<img src="images/img10_p050.jpg" width="451"
+alt="Make a rather impressive ceremony of driving the first stake." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>The stake is to be driven at an imaginary corner
+of what is to be your garden, and a string stretched
+to another stake at another imaginary corner, and
+there you have a line along which to dig. This
+will be a big comfort. You will feel that at last
+you have something tangible. Now all that remains
+is to turn the ground over, harrow it, smooth it up
+nice and neat, plant your seeds, cultivate them, thin
+out your plants and pick the crops.</p>
+
+<p>It may seem that I have spent most of my time
+in advice on preparing the ground for planting.
+Such may well be the case, as that was as far
+as I got. I then found a man who likes to do
+those things and whose doctor has told him that
+he ought to be out of doors all the time. He is an
+Italian, and charges really very little when you
+consider what he accomplishes. Any further advice
+on starting and keeping up a garden, I shall have
+to get him to write for you.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="VI" id="VI"></a>VI</h3>
+
+<h4>LESSON NUMBER ONE</h4>
+
+
+<p>Frankly, I am not much of a hand at machinery
+of any sort. I have no prejudice
+against it as such, for some of my best friends are
+of a mechanical turn of mind, and very nice fellows
+they are too. But the pencil sharpener in our
+office is about as far as I, personally, have ever got
+in the line of operating a complicated piece of mechanism
+with any degree of success.</p>
+
+<p>So, when George suggested that he teach me to
+run his car, it seemed a reasonable proposition. Obviously,
+<i>some one</i> had to teach me. I couldn't be
+expected to go out and pick the thing up by myself,
+like learning to eat olives. No matter how well-intentioned
+I might be, or how long I stuck at it,
+the chances are that I never could learn to drive
+a car simply by sitting in the seat alone and fooling
+around among the gadgets until I found the
+right ones. Something would be sure to happen
+to spoil the whole thing long before I got the hang
+of it.</p>
+
+<p>The car was, therefore, brought out into the
+driveway at the side of the house, like a bull being
+led into the ring for a humid afternoon with the
+matador. It was right here that George began to
+show his true colors, for he stopped the engine,
+which was running very nicely as it was, and said
+that I might as well begin by learning to crank
+it, as I probably would spend seven-eighths of my
+driving time cranking in the future.</p>
+
+<p>I didn't like this in George. It showed that he
+wasn't going about it in the right spirit. He was
+beginning with the assumption that I would make
+a dub of myself, and, as I was already beginning
+to assume the same thing, it looked rather black
+for the lesson, with both parties to it holding the
+same pessimistic thought.</p>
+
+<p>So, right off the bat, I said:</p>
+
+<p>"No, George. It seems to me that you ought to
+crank it yourself. To-day I am learning to <i>drive</i>
+the car. 'One thing at a time' is my motto. That
+is what has brought our modern industrial system
+to its present state of efficiency: the Division of
+Labor&mdash;one man who does nothing but make holes
+in washers, another who does nothing but slip the
+washers over the dinguses over which they belong;
+one man who devotes his whole time to running
+a car, another who specializes in cranking it. Now,
+in the early days of industry, when the guild was
+the unit of organization among the workers&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>George, having cranked the engine, motioned me
+into the driver's seat, and took his position beside
+me. It struck me that the thing was very poorly
+arranged, in that the place which was to be occupied
+by the driver, obviously the most important
+person in the car (except, of course, the lady member
+of the party in the tonneau, who holds the bluebook
+and gives wrong directions as to turnings), was all
+cluttered up with a lot of apparatus and pedals and
+things, so much so that I had to inhale and contract
+in order to squeeze past the wheel into my seat.
+And even then I was forced to stretch one leg out
+so far that I kicked a little gadget on a box arrangement
+on the dashboard, which apparently
+stopped the engine. As he cranked it again, George
+said, among other things, that it couldn't possibly
+have been done except on purpose, and that he
+could take a joke as well as the next man, but
+that, good night, what was the use of being an
+ass?</p>
+
+<p>As if I, with no mechanical instinct whatever,
+knew what was in that box! I don't know even now,
+and I have got my driver's license.</p>
+
+<p>George finally got things stirring again and
+climbed in, leaving the door partly open no doubt
+in order that, in case of emergency, he could walk,
+not run, to the street via the nearest exit.</p>
+
+<p>"The gear set of this car is of the planetary
+type," he said, by way of opening the seminar, while
+the motor behaved as if it were trying to jiggle
+its way out from under the cushions and bite me.
+"This planetary system gives two forward speeds
+and a reverse motion."</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 432px;">
+<img src="images/img11_p055.jpg" width="432"
+alt="George said that he could take a joke, but that, good night!
+what was the use of being an ass?" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>"Nothing could be fairer than that. It sounds
+like an almost perfect arrangement to me," I said,
+to show that I was listening. And then, to show
+that I was thinking about the thing as well, I asked:
+"But surely you don't have to pedal the thing along
+yourself by foot power! All those pedals down
+there would seem to leave very little for the gasoline
+power to do."</p>
+
+<p>"Those three pedals are what do the trick," explained
+George. And then he added ominously: "If
+you should step on that left-hand one now, you
+would throw in your clutch."</p>
+
+<p>"Please, George, don't get morbid," I protested.
+"I'm nervous enough as it is, without having to
+worry about my own bodily safety."</p>
+
+<p>"The middle pedal, marked 'R,' is the reverse,
+and the one at the right, marked 'B,' is the foot
+brake. Now, when you want to start&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Just a minute, please," I said sternly. "You
+skip over those as if there were something about
+them you were a little ashamed of, George. Are
+you keeping something from me about the reverse
+and the foot brake?"</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't know but that somewhere in your valuable
+college course they taught you what 'reverse'
+meant, and I was sure that your little son had told
+you all about the foot brake on his express wagon,"
+said George, waxing sarcastic in the manner of the
+technical man that he is.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't want you to take anything for granted
+in teaching me to run this thing," I replied. "It
+is those little things that count, you know, and I
+would feel just as badly as you would if I were to
+run your car over a cliff into a rocky gorge because
+of some detail that I was uninformed about.
+You know that, George."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well," he said, "I'll get down to fundamentals.
+When you push the reverse pedal, you
+drive the car in the opposite direction from that
+in which it is headed. This is done by tightening
+the external contracting clutch bands which are
+between the gearing and the disk clutch."</p>
+
+<p>Somehow this struck me as funny. The idea of
+reversing by tightening <i>any</i> bands at all, much less
+external contracting ones, was the one thing needed
+to send me off into roars of laughter. The whole
+thing seemed so flat, after the excitement of the
+war, and everything.</p>
+
+<p>Naturally George didn't get it. It was 'way over
+his head, and I knew that there would be no use
+trying to explain it to him. So I just continued to
+chuckle and murmur: "External contracting clutch
+bands! You'll be the death of me yet, George!"</p>
+
+<p>But I felt that, as the minutes went by, the situation
+was getting strained. My instructor and I
+were growing farther and farther apart in spirit,
+and, after all, it was his car and he was going to
+considerable trouble to teach me to run it, and the
+least that I could do would be to take him seriously,
+whether the thing struck me as being sensible or not.</p>
+
+<p>So I calmed myself with some effort, and tried
+to bring the conversation around to an opening for
+him to begin with further explanations.</p>
+
+<p>"But, all joking aside, George, how can you be
+so sure about these things? You say that when you
+push the reverse pedal you tighten the external contracting
+clutch bands. Did you ever see them
+tighten? Or were you taking some one's word for it?
+Remember how the German people were deceived
+for years by their rulers! Now supposing&mdash;just
+supposing&mdash;that it had been to some unscrupulous
+person's advantage to make you think that the&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Now, listen, Bob," said George (my name <i>is</i>
+Bob, and I see no reason why, simply because I am
+writing a piece about myself, I should make believe
+that my name is Stuart or Will, especially
+as it is right there in black and white at the head
+of the story. This assuming new names on the part
+of authors is a literary affectation which ought to
+be done away with once and for all). "Now, listen,
+Bob," said George, very quietly and very distinctly,
+"the only thing for you to do if you are going to
+learn to run this thing, is to get right down to brass
+tacks and <i>run</i> it, and the sooner you try it, the
+better."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you practical guys!" I said. "Nothing will
+do but you must always be getting down to brass
+tacks. It's men like you who are driving all the
+poetry out of the world."</p>
+
+<p>"You flatter me," said George, reaching bruskly
+across me as if he were after the salt and pepper,
+and adjusting a couple of dingbats on the steering
+wheel. "This here is the spark, and this is the
+throttle. The throttle governs the gas supply, and
+the spark regulates the&mdash;eh, well, it regulates the
+spark."</p>
+
+<p>"What won't these scientists think up next?" I
+marveled. "It's uncanny, that's what it is&mdash;uncanny."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Now</i>, then: hold your foot on the clutch pedal
+and keep her in neutral, while you shove your hand
+lever forward as far as it will go. <i>That's</i> right!...
+That's fine ... 'way forward ... now ... <i>that's</i>
+right ... that's fine!"</p>
+
+<p>I was so encouraged by the way things seemed
+to be going that I took all my feet away from all
+the things they were stepping on, and sighed:</p>
+
+<p>"Let's rest a minute, old man. I'm all of a
+tremble. It's much easier than I thought, but I'd
+rather take it stage by stage than to dash right
+off the first thing."</p>
+
+<p>The trouble seemed to be that, in lifting my feet,
+I had discouraged the motor, which sighed and
+stopped functioning, giving the car a playful shake,
+like an Erie local stopping at Babbitt (N.J.) on
+signal. So George said that, in the future, no matter
+how well things seemed to be going, never to
+give in to my emotions again, but keep right on
+working, even though it looked as if I were in danger
+of becoming an expert driver in three minutes.
+There is always something to learn, he said. Then
+he got out and cranked the engine.</p>
+
+<p>We went through the same process again, only
+I kept my foot on the vox humana pedal until I
+had crammed it 'way into fortissimo. Then suddenly
+a wonderful thing happened. The whole
+thing&mdash;car, engine, George, and I&mdash;began to move,
+all together. It was a big moment in my life. I
+could see the headlines in the evening papers:</p>
+
+<p class="center">YOUNG SCRIBE OVERCOMES NATURAL LAWS<br />
+Causes Auto to Move by Pushing Pedal</p>
+
+
+<p>But this elation was for only a moment. For,
+while we had been arguing, some one had sneaked
+up in front of us and transplanted the hydrangea
+bush from the lawn at our side to the very middle
+of the driveway, a silly place for a hydrangea bush
+at best, but an absolutely fatal one at the moment
+when an automobile was being driven through the
+yard.</p>
+
+<p>It was but the work of a second for me to sense
+the danger. It was but the work of half a second,
+however, for us to be rustling our way slowly and
+lumberingly into the luxuriant foliage of the bush.
+So I was just about half a second late, which I do
+not consider bad for a beginner.</p>
+
+<p>"Put on your brake!" shouted George.</p>
+
+<p>Quick as a wink (one of those long sensuous
+winks) I figured out which the brake was, by finding
+the symbolical "B" on the pedal. Like a
+trained mechanician I stepped on it.</p>
+
+<p>"Release your clutch first, you poor fish!"
+screamed George, above the horrible grinding noise.
+"Release your clutch!"</p>
+
+<p>This was more than flesh and blood could bear.
+Again I relieved my feet from any responsibility in
+the affair, and turned to my instructor.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't <i>shout</i> so!" I yelled back at him. "And
+don't keep calling it <i>my</i> clutch! It may be because
+I was brought up in a Puritan family, but the whole
+subject of clutches is a closed book to me. If it
+is something I should know about, you can tell
+me when we get in the house. But, for the present,
+let's drop the matter. At any rate, I stopped
+your darn car, clutch, or no clutch."</p>
+
+<p>And so I had. There we were, in the middle of
+the hydrangea bush, very quiet and peaceful, like
+a couple of birds in a bird house atop of rustling
+oak (or maple, for that matter). Even the engine
+had stopped.</p>
+
+<p>I reached out and plucked a blossom that was
+peeking over the dashboard where the whip socket
+should have been. After all, there is no place like
+the country. I said so to George, and he tacitly
+agreed. At least, I took it to be agreement. It was
+certainly tacit. I was afraid that he was a little
+hurt over what I had said about the clutch, and
+so I decided that it might be best not to mention
+the subject again. In fact, it seemed wiser to get
+away from the topic of automobiles entirely. So I
+said softly:</p>
+
+<p>"George, did it ever occur to you how the war
+has changed our daily life? Not only have we
+had to alter our methods of provisioning our tables
+and feeding our families, but we have acquired
+a certain detachment of mind, a certain new
+sufficiency of spirit."</p>
+
+<p>(We had both alighted from the car and had
+placed ourselves, one on each side, to roll it out
+of the embraces of the hydrangea bush.)</p>
+
+<p>"I have been reading a book during the past
+week on Problems of Reconstruction," I continued,
+"and I have been impressed by the thought which
+is being given to the development of the waste lands
+in the West."</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 449px;">
+<img src="images/img12_p063.jpg" width="449"
+alt="After all, there is no place like the country. I said so to
+George, and he tacilty agreed." title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>(We had, by this time, got the car rolled out
+into the driveway again.)</p>
+
+<p>"The problem of the children, too, is an absorbing
+one for the years which lie ahead of us.
+We cannot go back to the old methods of child
+training, any more than we can go back to the
+old methods of diplomacy. The war has created
+a hiatus. That which follows will depend on the
+zeal with which America applies herself to her task
+of rehabilitation."</p>
+
+<p>(The machine was now moored in her parking
+space by the porte-cochère, and the brakes applied.)</p>
+
+<p>"It seems to me that we are living in a great
+period of transition; doesn't it look that way to
+you, George?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said George.</p>
+
+<p>And so we went into the house.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="VII" id="VII"></a>VII</h3>
+
+<h4>THOUGHTS ON FUEL SAVING</h4>
+
+
+<p>Considerable space has been given in the
+magazines and newspapers this winter to official
+and expert directions on How to Run Your
+Furnace and Save Coal&mdash;as if the two things were
+compatible. Some had accompanying diagrams of
+a furnace in its normal state, showing the exact
+position of the arteries and vitals, with arrows pointing
+in interesting directions, indicating the theoretical
+course of the heat.</p>
+
+<p>I have given some time to studying these charts,
+and have come to the conclusion that when the authors
+of such articles and I speak the word "furnace,"
+we mean entirely different things. They are
+referring to some idealized, sublimated creation; perhaps
+the "furnace" which existed originally in the
+mind of Horace W. Furnace, the inventor; while,
+on the other hand, I am referring to the thing that
+is in my cellar. No wonder that I can't understand
+their diagrams.</p>
+
+<p>For my own satisfaction, therefore, I have drawn
+up a few regulations which I can understand, and
+have thrown them together most informally for
+whatever they may be worth. Any one else who
+has checked up the official furnace instructions with
+Life as it really is and has found something wrong
+somewhere may go as far as he likes with the results
+of my researches. I give them to the world.</p>
+
+<p>Saving coal is, just now, the chief concern of most
+householders, for we are now entering that portion
+of the solstice when it is beginning to be necessary
+to walk some distance into the bin after the
+coal. When first the list of official admonitions
+were issued, early in the season, it was hard
+to believe that they ever would be needed. The
+bin was so full that it resembled a drug-store window
+piled high with salted peanuts. (As a matter
+of actual fact, there is probably nothing that coal
+looks <i>less</i> like than salted peanuts, but the effect of
+tremendous quantity was the same.) Adventurous
+pieces were fairly popping out of confinement and
+rolling over the cellar. It seemed as if there were
+enough coal there to give the <i>Leviathan</i> a good run
+for her money and perhaps take her out as far as
+Bedloe Island. A fig for coal-saving devices!</p>
+
+<p>But now the season is well on, and the bad news
+is only too apparent. The householder, as he finds
+himself walking farther and farther into the bin
+after the next shovelful, realizes that soon will come
+the time when it will be necessary to scrape the
+leavings into a corner, up against the side of the bin,
+and to coal his fire, piece by piece, between his finger
+and thumb, while waiting for the dealer to deliver
+that next load, "right away, probably to-day, to-morrow
+at the latest."</p>
+
+<p>It is therefore essential that we turn constructive
+thought to the subject of coal conservation. I would
+suggest, in the first place, an exact aim in shoveling
+coal into the fire box.</p>
+
+<p>By this I mean the cultivation of an exact aim in
+shoveling coal into the fire box. In my own case (if
+I may be permitted to inject the personal element
+into this article for one second), I know that it
+often happens that, when I have a large shovelful of
+coal in readiness for the fire, and the door to the
+fire box open as wide as it will go, there may be,
+nevertheless, the variation of perhaps an eighth
+of an inch between the point where the shovel
+should have ended the arc in its forward swing and
+the point at which it actually stops. In less technical
+phraseology, I sometimes tick the edge of the
+shovel against the threshold of the fire box, instead
+of shooting it over as should be done. Now,
+as I usually take a rather long, low swing, with
+considerable power behind it (if I do say so), the
+sudden contact of the shovel with the threshold results
+in a forceful projection of the many pieces
+of coal (and whatever else it is that comes with the
+coal for good measure) into all corners of the cellar.
+I have seen coal fly from my shovel under
+such circumstances with such velocity as to land
+among the preserves at the other end of the cellar
+and in the opposite direction from which I was
+facing.</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 432px;">
+<img src="images/img13_p068.jpg" width="432"
+alt="In less technical language, I sometimes tick the edge of the
+shovel against the threshold of the fire box." title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Now, this is obviously a waste of coal. It would
+be impossible to stoop all about the cellar picking
+up the vagrant pieces that had flown away,
+even if the blow of the shovel against the furnace
+had not temporarily paralyzed your hand and caused
+you to devote your entire attention to the coining
+of new and descriptive word pictures.</p>
+
+<p>I would suggest, for this trouble, the taking of a
+"stance" in front of the fire box, with perhaps chalk
+markings for guidance of the feet at just the right
+distance away. Then a series of preparatory swings,
+as in driving off in golf, first with the empty shovel,
+then with a gradually increasing amount of coal.
+The only danger in this would be that you might
+bring the handle of the shovel back against an ash
+can or something behind you and thus spill about
+as much coal as before. But there, there&mdash;if you
+are going to borrow trouble like that, you might as
+well give up right now.</p>
+
+<p>Another mishap of a somewhat similar nature
+occurs when a shovelful of ashes from under the
+grate is hit against the projecting shaker, causing
+the ashes to scatter over the floor and the shoes.
+This is a very discouraging thing to have happen,
+for, as the ashes are quite apt to contain at least
+three or four pieces of unburnt coal, it means that
+those pieces are as good as lost unless you have
+time to hunt them up. It also means shining the
+shoes again.</p>
+
+<p>I find that an efficacious preventive for this is to
+take the shaker off when it is not in use and stand
+it in the corner. There the worst thing that it can
+do is to fall over against your shins when you are
+rummaging around for the furnace-bath-brush
+among the rest of the truck that hangs on the
+wall.</p>
+
+<p>And, by the way, there are at least two pieces of
+long-handled equipment hanging on my cellar wall
+(items in the estate of the former tenant, who must
+have been a fancier of some sort) whose use I have
+never been able to figure out. I have tried them on
+various parts of the furnace at one time or another,
+but, as there is not much of anything that one on
+the outside of a furnace can do but <i>poke</i>, it seems
+rather silly to have half a dozen niblick-pokers and
+midiron-pokers with which to do it. One of these,
+resembling in shape a bridge, such as is used on all
+occasions by novices at pool, I experimented with
+one night and got it so tightly caught in back of
+the grate somewhere that I had to let the fire go out
+and take the dead coals out, piece by piece, through
+the door in order to get at the captive instrument
+and release it. And, of course, all this experimenting
+wasted coal.</p>
+
+<p>The shaker is, however, an important factor in
+keeping the furnace going, for it is practically the
+only recourse in dislodging clinkers which have become
+stuck in the grate&mdash;that is, unless you can kick
+the furnace hard enough to shake them down. I
+have, in moments when, I am afraid, I was not
+quite myself, kicked the furnace with considerable
+force, but I never could see that it had any effect
+on the clinker. This, however, is no sign that it
+can't be done. I would be the first one to wish
+a man well who did it.</p>
+
+<p>But, ordinarily, the shaker is the accepted agent
+for teaching the clinker its place. And, in the fancy
+assorted coal in vogue this season (one-third coal,
+one-third slate, and one-third rock candy) clinkers
+are running the combustible matter a slightly better
+than even race. This problem is, therefore, one
+which must be faced.</p>
+
+<p>I find that a great deal of satisfaction, if not tangible
+results, can be derived from personifying the
+furnace and the recalcitrant clinker, and endowing
+them with human attributes, such as fear, chagrin,
+and susceptibility to physical and mental pain. In
+this fanciful manner the thing can be talked to as
+if it were a person, in this way lending a zest to
+the proceedings which would be entirely lacking in
+a contest with an inanimate object.</p>
+
+<p>Thus, when it is discovered that the grate is
+stuck, you can say, <i>sotto voce</i>:</p>
+
+<p>"Ho, ho! you *********! So that's your
+game, is it?"</p>
+
+<p>(I would not attempt to dictate the particular
+epithets. Each man knows so much better than
+any one else just what gives him the most comfort
+in this respect that it would be presumptuous
+to lay down any formula. Personally, I have a
+wonderful set of remarks and proper names which
+I picked up one summer from a lobster man in
+Maine, which for soul-satisfying blasphemy are absolutely
+unbeatable. I will be glad to furnish this
+set to any one sending a stamped, self-addressed
+envelope.)</p>
+
+<p>You then seize the shaker with both hands and
+give it a vicious yank, muttering between your
+teeth:</p>
+
+<p>"We'll see, my fine fellow! We'll see!"</p>
+
+<p>This is usually very effective in weakening the
+morale of the clinker, for it then realizes right at
+the start that it is pitted against a man who is not
+to be trifled with.</p>
+
+<p>This should be followed by several short and
+powerful yanks, punctuated on the catch of each
+stroke with a muttered: "You *********!"</p>
+
+<p>If you are short of wind, the force of this ejaculation
+may diminish as the yanks increase in number,
+in which case it will be well to rest for a few
+seconds.</p>
+
+<p>At this point a little strategy may be brought
+to bear. You can turn away, as if you were defeated,
+perhaps saying loudly, so that the clinker
+can hear: "Ho-hum! Well, I guess I'll call it a
+day," and pretend to start upstairs.</p>
+
+<p>Then, quick as a wink, you should turn and leap
+back at the shaker, and, before the thing can recover
+from its surprise, give it a yank which will
+either rip it from its moorings or cause your own
+vertebræ to change places with a sharp click. It is
+a fifty-fifty chance.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 440px;">
+<img src="images/img14_p073.jpg" width="440"
+alt="Quick as a wink you should turn and leap back at the shaker." title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>But great caution should be observed before trying
+these heroic measures to make sure that the pins
+which hold the shaker in place are secure. A loosened
+pin will stand just so much shaking, and then
+it will unostentatiously work its way out and look
+around for something else to do. This always causes
+an awkward situation, for the yank next following
+the walkout of the pin, far from accomplishing its
+purpose of dispossessing the clinker, will precipitate
+you over backward among the ash cans with a
+viciousness in which it is impossible not to detect
+something personal.</p>
+
+<p>Immediately following such a little upset to one's
+plans, it is perhaps the natural impulse to arise in
+somewhat of a pet and to set about exacting punitive
+indemnities. This does not pay in the end.
+If you hit any exposed portion of the furnace with
+the shaker the chances are that you will break
+it, which, while undoubtedly very painful to the
+furnace at the time, would eventually necessitate
+costly repairs. And, if you throw coal at it, you
+waste coal. This, if you remember, is an article on
+how to save coal.</p>
+
+<p>Another helpful point is to prevent the fire from
+going out. This may be accomplished in one way
+that I am sure of. That is, by taking a book, or
+a ouija board, or some other indoor entertainment
+downstairs and sitting two feet away from the furnace
+all day, being relieved by your wife at night
+(or, needless to say, vice versa). I have never
+known this method of keeping the fire alive to
+fail, except when the watcher dropped off to sleep
+for ten or fifteen minutes. This is plenty of time
+for a raging fire to pass quietly away, and I can
+prove it.</p>
+
+<p>Of course this treatment cuts in on your social
+life, but I know of nothing else that is infallible.
+I know of nothing else that can render impossible
+that depressing foreboding given expression by
+your wife when she says: "Have you looked at the
+fire lately? It's getting chilly here," followed by
+the apprehensive trip downstairs, eagerly listening
+for some signs of caloric life from within the
+asbestos-covered tomb; the fearful pause before
+opening the door, hoping against hope that the next
+move will disclose a ruddy glow which can easily be
+nursed back to health, but feeling, in the intuitive
+depths of your soul, that you might just as well
+begin crumpling up last Sunday's paper to ignite,
+for the Grim Reaper has passed this way.</p>
+
+<p>And then the cautious pull at the door, opening
+it inch by inch, until the bitter truth is disclosed&mdash;a
+yawning cavern of blackness with the dull, gray
+outlines of consumed coals in the foreground, a dismal
+double-play: ashes to ashes.</p>
+
+<p>These little thoughts on furnace tending and coal
+conservation are not meant to be taken as in any
+sense final. Some one else may have found the
+exact converse to be true; in which case he would
+do well to make a scientific account of it as I have
+done. It helps to buy coal.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="VIII" id="VIII"></a>VIII</h3>
+
+<h4>NOT ACCORDING TO HOYLE</h4>
+
+
+<p>I have just finished reading an article by an expert
+in auction bridge, and it has left me in a
+cold sweat. As near as I can make out, it presupposes
+that every one who plays bridge knows what
+he is doing before he does it, which simply means
+that I have been going along all this time working
+on exactly the wrong theory. It may incidentally
+explain why I have never been voted the most
+popular bridge player in Wimblehurst or presented
+with a loving cup by admiring members of the
+Neighborhood Club.</p>
+
+<p>Diametrically opposed to the system of "think-before-you-play,"
+advocated by this expert, my game
+has been built up purely on intuition. I rely almost
+entirely on the inner promptings of the moment in
+playing a card. I don't claim that there is anything
+spiritualistic about it, for it does not work out with
+consistent enough success to be in any way uncanny.
+As a matter of fact, it causes me a lot of trouble.
+When one relies on instinct to remind one of what
+the trumps are, or how many of them have been
+played, there is bound to be a slip-up every so often.</p>
+
+<p>But what chagrins me, after reading the expert's
+article, is the thought that all this while I may have
+been playing with people who were actually thinking
+the thing out beforehand in a sordid sort of way,
+counting the trumps played and figuring on who had
+the queen or where the ten-spot lay. I didn't think
+there were such people in the world.</p>
+
+<p>Here I have been going ahead, in an honest,
+hail-fellow-well-met mood, sometimes following suit,
+sometimes trumping my partner's trick, always taking
+it for granted that the idea was to get the hand
+played as quickly as possible in order to talk it over
+and tell each other how it might have been done
+differently.</p>
+
+<p>It is true that, now and again, I have noticed
+sharp looks directed at me by my various partners,
+but I have usually attributed them to a little mannerism
+I have of humming softly while playing, and
+I have always stopped humming whenever my partner
+showed signs of displeasure, being perfectly
+willing to meet any one halfway in an effort to
+make the evening a pleasant one for all concerned.
+But now I am afraid that perhaps the humming
+was only a minor offense. I am appalled at the
+thought of what really was the trouble.</p>
+
+<p>I should never have allowed myself to be dragged
+into it at all. My first big mistake was made when,
+in a moment of weakness, I consented to learn the
+game; for a man who can frankly say "I do not
+play bridge" is allowed to go over in the corner
+and run the pianola by himself, while the poor
+neophyte, no matter how much he may protest that
+he isn't "at all a good player, in fact, I'm perfectly
+rotten," is never believed, but dragged into a game
+where it is discovered, too late, that he spoke the
+truth.</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 334px;">
+<img src="images/img15_p079.jpg" width="334"
+alt="Attributed them to a little mannerism
+I have of humming softly while playing." title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>But it was a family affair at first. Dora belonged
+to a whist club which met every Friday afternoon
+on strictly partizan lines, except for once a year,
+when they asked the men in. My experience with
+this organization had been necessarily limited, as
+it held its sessions during my working hours. Once
+in a while, however, I would get home in time to
+meet in the front hall the stragglers who were just
+leaving, amid a general searching for furs and over-shoes,
+and for some unaccountable reason I usually
+felt very foolish on such occasions. Certainly
+I had a right, under the Common Law, to be coming
+in my own front door, but I always had a sneaking
+feeling, there in the midst of the departing guests,
+that the laugh was on me.</p>
+
+<p>One Friday, when I was confined to my room with
+a touch of neuralgia (it was in my face, if you are
+interested, and the whole right side swelled up until
+it was twice its normal size&mdash;I'd like to tell you more
+about it some time), I could hear the sounds of
+carnival going on downstairs. The noises made by
+women playing bridge are distinctive. At first the
+listener is aware of a sort of preliminary conversational
+murmur, with a running accompaniment of
+shuffling pasteboards. Then follows an unnatural
+quiet, punctuated by the thud of jeweled knuckles
+or the clank of bracelets as the cards are played
+against the baize, with now and then little squeals
+of dismay or delight from some of the more demonstrative
+and an occasional "Good for you, partner!"
+from an appreciative dummy. Gradually, as the
+hand draws toward its close, there begins a low
+sound, like the murmurings of the stage mob in
+the wings, which rapidly increases, until the room
+is filled with a shrill chatter, resembling that in the
+Bird House in Central Park, from which there is
+distinguishable merely a wild medley:</p>
+
+<p>"If you had led me your queen&mdash;was so afraid
+she might trump in with&mdash;my dear, I didn't have a
+face card in my&mdash;threw away just the wrong&mdash;had
+the jack, 10, 9, and 7&mdash;thought Alice had the
+king&mdash;ace and three little ones&mdash;how about honors?&mdash;my
+dear, <i>simply</i> frightful&mdash;if you had returned my
+lead&mdash;my <i>dear</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>This listening in at bridge, however, was the nearest
+I had ever been to the front, until it came time
+for the Friday Afternoon Club to let down the bars
+and have a Men's Night. I had no illusions about
+this "Men's Night," but it was a case of my learning
+to play bridge and accompanying Dora, or of
+her getting some man in from off the sidewalk to
+take my place, and I figured that it would cause less
+talk if I were there to play myself. As I think it
+over now, I feel that the strange-man scheme might
+have worked out with less comment being made than
+my playing drew down.</p>
+
+<p>But it was for this purpose that I allowed myself
+to be instructed in the rudiments of bridge. I had
+nothing permanent in mind in absorbing these principles,
+fully expecting to forget them again the day
+after the party. I miscalculated by about one day,
+it now seems.</p>
+
+<p>The expert, whose article has been such an inspiration
+to me, had some neat little diagrams drawn
+for him, showing just where the cards lay in the
+four hands, and with the players indicated as A,
+B, Y, and Z; apparently the same people, come up
+in the world, who, in our algebras some years ago,
+used to buy and sell apples to each other with feverish
+commercialism and to run races with all sorts
+of unfair handicaps. What a small world it is,
+after all!</p>
+
+<p>It seems to me, therefore, that, since this is a
+pretty fairly technical article, it might be well if I
+were to utilize the same diagrammatic device and
+terse method of description, to show the exact course
+of the first hand in which I participated at the party.</p>
+
+<p>A and B are our opponents, X my partner, and
+I (oddly enough) myself. A is Ralph Thibbets, one
+of those cool devils who think they know all about
+a game, and usually do. He has an irritating way
+of laying down his cards, when the hand is about
+half played, and saying: "Well, the rest are mine,"
+and the most irritating part of it all is that, when
+you have insisted on figuring it out for yourself, he
+is found to be right. I disliked him from the first.</p>
+
+<p>B is Mrs. Lucas, who breathes hard and says
+nothing, but clanks her cards down with finality,
+seeming to say: "That for you!" She got me
+nervous.</p>
+
+<p>X, my partner, used to be a good friend of mine.
+And, so far as I am concerned, I would be perfectly
+willing to let bygones be bygones and be on
+friendly terms again.</p>
+
+<p>In utilizing the expert's method of description, I
+shall improve on it slightly by also indicating the
+conversation accompanying each play, a feature
+which is of considerable importance in a game.</p>
+
+<p>B deals, and finally makes it three diamonds, after
+X has tried to bid hearts without encouragement
+from me. I pass as a matter of principle, not being
+at all sure of this bidding proposition.</p>
+
+<p>I lead, with a clear field and no particular object
+in view, the 8 of diamonds. It looks as uncompromising
+as any card in my hand. "Leading
+<i>trumps</i>," says X with a raising of the eyebrows.
+"What do you know about that!" I exclaim. "I
+had forgotten that they were trumps. I must be
+asleep. Like the old Irishman when St. Peter asked
+him where he came from, and he said: 'Begorra&mdash;'"
+A cuts this story short by playing the 3 of diamonds;
+X, with some asperity, discards the 3 of
+spades, and B takes the trick with the 10-spot.
+Silence.</p>
+
+<p>"That story of the Irishman and St. Peter," I
+continue, "was told to me by a fellow in Buffalo
+last week who had just come from France. He
+said that while he was in a place called 'Mousong,'
+or 'Mousang,' he actually saw&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Your play," says X. "Oh, I beg your pardon,"
+I say, "whose jack of spades is that?" "Mine,"
+says B, drumming on the table with her finger
+nails and looking about the room at the pictures.
+Having more poor diamonds than anything else in
+my hand, and aiming to get them out of the way
+as soon as possible to give the good cards a chance,
+I play the 5 of diamonds.</p>
+
+<p>"What, trumping it? Have you no spades?"
+shouts A. I can see that I have him rattled; so,
+although, as a matter of fact, I have got plenty of
+spades, I smile knowingly and sit tight. These
+smart Alecs make me sick, telling me what I should
+play and what I should not play. A accepts the
+inevitable and plays his 2-spot. X, considerably
+cheered up, plays the 4 and says: "Our trick,
+partner." I pick up the cards and mix them with
+those already in my hand, reverting, for the time,
+to poker tactics. This error, alone among all that
+I make during the game, is unobserved.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I suppose that you people are all excited
+over that new baby up at your house," I say
+pleasantly to A, just to show him that I can be
+gracious in victory as well as in defeat. "Let's
+see, is it a boy or a girl?"</p>
+
+<p>"It's <i>your lead</i>!" he replies shortly.</p>
+
+<p>"I beg your pardon," I say; "I certainly must be
+asleep to-night." And, as my thumb is on the 5
+of diamonds, I lead it.</p>
+
+<p>"Here, here!" says A, "wasn't it the 5 of
+diamonds that you trumped in with just a minute
+ago?" That man has second-sight. As a matter
+of fact, I suspect that there is something crooked
+about him. "Yes, it is," corroborates B in her longest
+speech of the evening. X says: "Where <i>is</i> that
+trick that we took?" And then it is discovered
+that it has found its way into my hand, from which
+it is disentangled with considerable trouble and
+segregated. As for me, I pass the whole thing
+off as a joke.</p>
+
+<p>"I saw in the paper this morning," I began
+when the situation has become a little less complicated,
+"where a woman in Perth Amboy found a
+hundred dollars in the lining of an old lounge in&mdash;"</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 435px;">
+<img src="images/img16_p086.jpg" width="435"
+alt="'Here, here!' says A, 'wasn't it the 5 of
+diamonds that you trumped in with just a minute
+ago?'" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>"It's your lead, if you don't mind," says A very
+distinctly. "You have made only one false start
+out of a possible three. Try again." I pretend not
+to hear this sarcasm, and, just to show him that
+there is life in the old dog yet, I lead my ace of
+spades.</p>
+
+<p>"Look here, my dear sir!" says A, quite upset
+by now. "Only one hand ago you refused spades
+and trumped them. That revoking on your part
+gives us three tricks and we throw up the hand."</p>
+
+<p>"Fair enough," I retort cheerfully, "three is just
+what you bid, isn't it? Quite a coincidence, I call
+it," and with that I throw my cards on the table
+with considerable relief. Nothing good could have
+come of this hand, even if we had played until midnight.</p>
+
+<p>From all sides now arose the familiar sounds of
+the post-mortem: "I had the jack, 10, 9, and 7, all
+good, but I just couldn't get in with them.... If
+you had only led me your king, we could have set
+them at least two.... I knew that Grace had the
+queen, but I didn't dare try to finesse.... We had
+simple honors.... As soon as I saw you leading
+spades, I knew that there was nothing in it," etc.,
+etc.</p>
+
+<p>But at our table there was no post-mortem. Not
+because there had been no death, but there seemed
+to be nothing to say about it. So we sat, marking
+down our scores, until Dora came up behind me and
+said: "Well, dear, how is your game coming on?"</p>
+
+<p>As no one else seemed about to speak, I said:
+"Oh, finely, I'm getting the hang of it in no time."</p>
+
+<p>My partner muttered something about hanging
+being too good, which seemed a bit uncalled for.</p>
+
+<p>And so I went through the evening, meeting new
+people and making new friends. And, owing to
+Dora's having neglected to teach me the details of
+score keeping, I had to make a system up for myself,
+with the result that I finished the evening with
+a total of 15,000 points on my card and won the first
+prize.</p>
+
+<p>"Beginner's luck," I called it with modest good
+nature.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="IX" id="IX"></a>IX</h3>
+
+<h4>FROM NINE TO FIVE</h4>
+
+
+<p>One of the necessary qualifications of an efficient
+business man in these days of industrial
+literature seems to be the ability to write, in
+clear and idiomatic English, a 1,000-word story on
+how efficient he is and how he got that way. A
+glance through any one of our more racy commercial
+magazines will serve nicely to illustrate my point,
+for it was after glancing through one of them only
+five minutes ago that the point suggested itself to
+me.</p>
+
+<p>"What Is Making Our Business Grow;" "My
+$10,000 System of Carbon-Copy Hunting;" "Making
+the Turn-Over Turn In;" "If I Can Make My
+Pencil Sharpenings Work, Why Can't You?" "Getting
+Sales Out of Sahara," etc., are some of the intriguing
+titles which catch the eye of the student
+of world affairs as he thumbs over the business
+magazines on the news-stands before buying his
+newspaper. It seems as if the entire business world
+were devoting its working hours to the creation of
+a school of introspective literature.</p>
+
+<p>But the trouble with these writers is that they are
+all successful. There is too much sameness to their
+stuff. They have their little troubles at first, it is
+true, such as lack of coördination in the central typing
+department, or congestion of office boys in the
+room where the water cooler is situated; but sooner
+or later you may be perfectly sure that Right will
+triumph and that the young salesman will bring
+in the order that puts the firm back on its feet
+again. They seem to have no imagination, these
+writers of business confessions. What the art needs
+is some Strindberg of Commerce to put down on
+paper the sordid facts of Life as they really are,
+and to show, in bitter words of cynical realism,
+that ink erasers are not always segregated or vouchers
+always all that they should be, and that, behind
+the happy exterior of many a mahogany railing,
+all is not so gosh-darned right with the world
+after all.</p>
+
+<p>Now, without setting myself up as a Strindberg, I
+would like to start the ball rolling toward a more
+realistic school of business literature by setting down
+in my rough, impulsive way a few of the items in
+the account of "How We Make Our Business Lose
+$100,000 a Year."</p>
+
+<p>All that I ask in the way of equipment is an
+illustration showing a square-jawed, clean-cut American
+business man sitting at a desk and shaking his
+finger at another man, very obviously the head of
+the sales department because it says so under the
+picture, who is standing with his thumbs in the arm-holes
+of his waistcoat, gnawing at a big, black cigar,
+and looking out through the window at the smoke-stacks
+of the works. With this picture as a starter,
+and a chart or two, I can build up a very decent
+business story around them.</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 424px;">
+<img src="images/img17_p091.jpg" width="424"
+alt="A square-jawed American business man, etc., shaking his
+finger at another." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>In the first place let me say that what we have
+done in our business any firm can do in theirs. It
+is not that we have any extraordinary talents along
+organization lines. We simply have taken the lessons
+learned in everyday trading, have tabulated
+and filed them in triplicate. Then we have forgotten
+them.</p>
+
+<p>I can best give an idea of the secret of our mediocrity
+as a business organization by outlining a
+typical day in our offices. I do this in no spirit
+of boasting, but simply to show these thousands of
+systematized business men who are devoting themselves
+to literature that somewhere in all this miasma
+of success there shines a ray of inefficiency, giving
+promise of the day that is to come.</p>
+
+<p>The first part of the morning in our establishment
+is devoted to the mail. This starts the day
+off right, for it gives every one something to do,
+which is, I have found, a big factor in keeping the
+place looking busy.</p>
+
+<p>Personally I am not what is known as a "snappy"
+dictator. It makes me nervous to have a stenographer
+sitting there waiting for me to say something
+so that she can pounce on it and tear it into
+hieroglyphics. I feel that, mentally, she is checking
+me up with other men who have dictated to her, and
+that I am being placed in Class 5a, along with the
+licensed pilots and mental defectives, and the more
+I think of it the more incoherent I become. If exact
+and detailed notes were to be preserved of one
+of my dictated letters, mental processes, and all,
+they might read something like this:</p>
+
+<p>"Good morning, Miss Kettle.... Take a letter,
+please ... to the Nipco Drop Forge and Tool
+Company, Schenectady ... S-c-h-e-c&mdash;er&mdash;well,
+Schenectady; you know how to spell that, I guess,
+Miss Kettle, ha! ha!... Nipco Drop Forge and
+Tool Company, Schenectady, New York.... Gentlemen&mdash;er
+(business of touching finger tips and
+looking at the ceiling meditatively)&mdash;Your favor of
+the 17th inst. at hand, and in reply would state that&mdash;er
+(I should have thought this letter out before
+beginning to dictate and decided just what it <i>is</i>
+that we desire to state in reply)&mdash;and in reply would
+state that&mdash;er ... our Mr. Mellish reports that&mdash;er ...
+where is that letter from Mr. Mellish, Miss
+Kettle?... The one about the castings.... Oh,
+never mind, I guess I can remember what he said....
+Let's see, where were we?... Oh, yes, that
+our Mr. Mellish reports that he shaw the sipment&mdash;I
+mean <i>saw</i> the <i>shipment</i>&mdash;what's the matter with
+me? (this girl must think that I'm a perfect fool)
+... that he shaw the sipment in question on the
+platform of the station at Miller's Falls, and that it&mdash;er ...
+ah ... ooom ... (I'll have this girl
+asleep in her chair in a minute. I'll bet that she goes
+and tells the other girls that she has just taken a
+letter from a man with the mind of an eight-year-old
+boy).... We could, therefore, comma,... what's
+the matter?... Oh, I didn't finish that other sentence,
+I guess.... Let's see, how did it go?...
+Oh, yes ... and that I, or rather <i>it</i>, was in good
+shape ... er, cross that out, please (this girl is
+simply wasting her time here. I could spell this
+out with alphabet blocks quicker and let her copy
+it) ... and that it was in excellent shape at that
+shape&mdash;er ... or rather, at that <i>time</i> ... er ...
+period. New paragraph.</p>
+
+<p>"We are, comma, therefore, comma, unable to ...
+hello, Mr. Watterly, be right with you in half
+a second.... I'll finish this later, Miss Kettle ...
+thank you."</p>
+
+<p>When the mail is disposed of we have what is
+known as Memorandum Hour. During this period
+every one sends memoranda to every one else. If
+you happen to have nothing in particular about
+which to dictate a memorandum, you dictate a memorandum
+to some one, saying that you have nothing
+to suggest or report. This gives a stimulating exchange
+of ideas, and also helps to use up the blue
+memorandum blanks which have been printed at
+some expense for just that purpose.</p>
+
+<p>As an example of how this system works, I will
+give a typical instance of its procedure. My partner,
+let us say, comes in and sits down at the desk
+opposite me. I observe that his scarfpin is working
+its way out from his tie. I call a stenographer and
+say: "Take a memo to Mr. MacFurdle, please. <i>In
+re</i> Loosened Scarfpin. You are losing your scarfpin."</p>
+
+<p>As soon as she has typed this it is given to Mr.
+MacFurdle's secretary, and a carbon copy is put
+in the files. Mr. MacFurdle, on receiving my
+memo, adjusts his scarfpin and calls his secretary.</p>
+
+<p>"A memo to Mr. Benchley, please. <i>In re</i> Tightened
+Scarfpin. Thank you. I have given the matter
+my attention."</p>
+
+<p>As soon as I have received a copy of this typewritten
+reply to my memorandum we nod pleasantly
+to each other and go on with our work. In
+all, not more than half an hour has been consumed,
+and we have a complete record of the negotiations
+in our files in case any question should ever arise
+concerning them. In case <i>no</i> question should ever
+arise, we still have the complete record. So we
+can't lose&mdash;unless you want to call that half hour
+a loss.</p>
+
+<p>It is then almost lunch time. A quick glance
+at a pile of carbons of mill reports which have but
+little significance to me owing to the fact that the
+figures are illegible (it being a fifth-string carbon);
+a rapid survey of the matter submitted for my O.K.,
+most of which I dislike to take the responsibility
+for and therefore pass on to Mr. Houghtelling for his
+O.K.; a short tussle in the washroom with the liquid-soap
+container which contains no liquid soap and
+a thorough drying of the hands on my handkerchief,
+the paper towels having given out early in the morning,
+and I am ready to go to lunch with a man from
+the Eureka Novelty Company who wants to sell us
+a central paste-supply system (whereby all the office
+paste is kept in one large vat in the storeroom, individual
+brushfuls being taken out only on requisitions
+O.K.'d by the head of the department).</p>
+
+<p>Both being practical business men, we spend only
+two hours at lunch. And, both being practical business
+men, we know all the subtleties of selling. It
+is a well-known fact that personality plays a big
+rôle in the so-called "selling game" (one of a series
+of American games, among which are "the newspaper
+game," "the advertising game," "the cloak-and-suit
+game," "the ladies' mackintosh and over-shoe
+game," "the seedless-raisin and dried-fruit
+game," etc.), and so Mr. Ganz of the Eureka Novelty
+Company spends the first hour and three-quarters
+developing his "personality appeal." All
+through the tomato bisque aux croutons and the
+roast prime ribs of beef, dish gravy, he puts into
+practice the principles enunciated in books on Selling,
+by means of which the subject at hand is deferred
+in a subtle manner until the salesman has
+had a chance to impress his prospect with his geniality
+and his smile (an attractive smile has been
+known to sell a carload of 1897 style derbies, according
+to authorities on The Smile in Selling), his
+knowledge of baseball, his rich fund of stories, and
+his general aversion to getting down to the disagreeable
+reason for his call.</p>
+
+<p>The only trouble with this system is that I have
+done the same thing myself so many times that I
+know just what his next line is going to be, and
+can figure out pretty accurately at each stage of
+his conversation just when he is going to shift
+to one position nearer the thing he has to sell. I
+know that he has not the slightest interest in my
+entertainment other than the sale of a Eureka Central
+Paste Supply System, and he knows that I
+know it, and so we spend an hour and three-quarters
+fooling the waiter into thinking that we are engaged
+in disinterested camaraderie.</p>
+
+<p>For fifteen minutes we talk business, and I agree
+to take the matter up with the directors at the next
+meeting, holding the mental reservation that a central
+paste supply system will be installed in our plant
+only over my dead body.</p>
+
+<p>This takes us until two-thirty, and I have to hurry
+back to a conference. We have two kinds of "conference."
+One is that to which the office boy refers
+when he tells the applicant for a job that Mr.
+Blevitch is "in conference." This means that Mr.
+Blevitch is in good health and reading the paper,
+but otherwise unoccupied. The other kind of "conference"
+is bona fide in so far as it implies that
+three or four men are talking together in one room,
+and don't want to be disturbed.</p>
+
+<p>This conference is on, let us say, the subject of
+Window Cards for display advertising: shall they be
+triangular or diamond-shaped?</p>
+
+<p>There are four of us present, and we all begin
+by biting off the ends of four cigars. Watterly
+has a pile of samples of window cards of various
+shapes, which he hangs, with a great deal of trouble,
+on the wall, and which are not referred to again.
+He also has a few ideas on Window Card Psychology.</p>
+
+<p>"It seems to me," he leads off, "that we have here
+a very important question. On it may depend the
+success of our Middle Western sales. The problem
+as I see it is this: what will be the reaction on the
+retina of the eye of a prospective customer made
+by the sight of a diamond-shaped card hanging in
+a window? It is a well-known fact in applied psychology
+that when you take the average man into
+a darkened room, loosen his collar, and shout "Diamonds!"
+at him suddenly, his mental reaction is one
+in which the ideas of Wealth, Value, Richness, etc.,
+predominate. Now, it stands to reason that the
+visual reaction from seeing a diamond-shaped card
+in the window will...."</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 426px;">
+<img src="images/img18_p099.jpg" width="426"
+alt="The problem as I see it is this." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>"Excuse me a moment, George," says MacFurdle,
+who has absorbed some pointers on Distribution
+from a book entitled "The World Salesman," "I
+don't think that it is so important to get after the
+psychology of the thing first as it is to outline thoroughly
+the Theory of Zone Apportionment on which
+we are going to work. If we could make up a chart,
+showing in red ink the types of retail-stores and in
+green ink the types of jobber establishments, in this
+district, then we could get at the window display
+from that angle and tackle the psychology later, if
+at all. Now, on such a chart I would try to show
+the zones of Purchasing Power, and from these could
+be deduced...."</p>
+
+<p>"Just a minute, Harry," Inglesby interrupts, "let
+me butt in for half a second. That chart system
+is all very well when you are selling goods with which
+the public is already familiar through association
+with other brands, but with ours it is different. We
+have got to estimate the Consumer Demand first in
+terms of dollar-and-a-quarter units, and build our
+selling organization up around that. Now, if I know
+anything about human nature at all&mdash;and I think
+I do, after being in the malleable-iron game for fifteen
+years&mdash;the people in this section of the country
+represent an entirely different trade current
+than...."</p>
+
+<p>At this point I offer a few remarks on one of
+my pet hobbies, the influence of the Gulf Stream on
+Regional Commerce, and then we all say again the
+same things that we said before, after which we
+say them again, the pitch of the conversation growing
+higher at each repetition of views and the room
+becoming more and more filled with cigar smoke,
+Our final decision is to have a conference to-morrow
+afternoon, before which each one is to "think the
+matter over and report his reactions."</p>
+
+<p>This brings the day to a close. There has been
+nothing remarkable in it, as the reader will be the
+first one to admit. And yet it shows the secret of
+whatever we have not accomplished in the past year
+in our business.</p>
+
+<p>And it also shows why we practical business men
+have so little sympathy with a visionary, impractical
+arrangement like this League of Nations. President
+Wilson was all right in his way, but he was too
+academic. What we practical men in America want
+is deeds, not words.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="X" id="X"></a>X</h3>
+
+<h4>TURNING OVER A NEW LEDGER LEAF</h4>
+
+
+<p>New Year's morning approximately ninety-two
+million people in these United States will
+make another stab at keeping personal and household
+accounts for the coming year.</p>
+
+<p>One month from New Year's there will be approximately
+seventy-three of these accountants still in
+the race (all started). Of these, sixty will be groggy
+but still game and willing to lump the difference between
+the actual balance in their pockets and the
+theoretical balance in the books under the elastic
+heading "General Expenses" or "Incidentals," and
+start again for February. The remaining thirteen,
+who came out even, will be either professors of accounting
+in business schools or out and out unreliable.</p>
+
+<p>This high mortality rate among amateur accountants
+is one of the big problems of modern household
+efficiency, and is exceeded in magnitude only
+by the number of schemes devised to simplify household
+accounting. Every domestic magazine, in the
+midst of its autobiographical accounts of unhappy
+marriages, must needs run a chart showing how far
+a family with an income of $1,500 a year can go
+without getting caught and still put something aside
+for a canary. Every insurance company has had
+prepared by experts a table of figures explaining
+how, by lumping everything except Rent and Incidentals
+under Luxuries and doing without them,
+you can save enough from the wreckage of $1,200
+a year to get in on their special Forty-Year Adjournment
+Policy.</p>
+
+<p>Those publications which cannot get an expert
+to figure out how much you ought to spend per
+day will publish letters from young
+housewives showing how they made out a budget
+which in the end brought them in more money than
+they earned and had the grocer and electric light
+company owing them money.</p>
+
+<p>The trouble with all these vicarious budgets is
+that they presuppose, on the part of the user, an
+ability to add and subtract. They take it for
+granted that you are going to do the thing right.
+Now, with all due respect to our primary and secondary
+school system, this is absurd. Here and
+there you may find some one who can take a page
+of figures and maul them over so that they will
+come out right at the bottom, but who wants to be
+a man like that? What fun does he get out of
+life, always sure of what the result is going to
+be?</p>
+
+<p>As for me, give me the regular method of addition
+by logic; that is, if the result obtained is twelve
+removed from the result that should have been obtained,
+then, ergo, twelve is the amount by which
+you have miscalculated and it should, therefore, be
+added or subtracted, as the case may be, to or from
+the actual result somewhere up in the middle of
+the column, so that in the end the thing will balance.
+And there you are, with just the same result
+as if you had worked for hours over the page and
+quibbled over every little point and figure. There is
+no sense in becoming a slave to numerical signs
+which in themselves are not worth the paper they
+are written on. It is the imagination that one puts
+into accounting that makes it fascinating. If free
+verse, why not free arithmetic?</p>
+
+<p>It is for the honest ones, who admit that they
+can't work one of the budget systems for the mentally
+alert, that the accompanying one has been
+devised.</p>
+
+<p>Let us take, for instance, a family whose income
+is $750,000 a year, exclusive of tips. In the family
+are a father, mother and fox terrier. The expenses
+for such a family come under the head of
+Liabilities and are distributed among six accounts:
+Food, Lodging, Extras, Extras, Incidentals and Extras.
+For this couple I would advise the following
+system:</p>
+
+<p>Take the contents of the weekly pay envelope,
+$14,423.08 (if any one is mean enough to go and
+divide $750,000 into fifty-two parts to see if I have
+got it right, he will find that it doesn't quite come
+to eight cents, but you certainly wouldn't have me
+carry it out to any more places. It took me from
+three yesterday afternoon until after dinner to do
+what I did). Take the contents of the envelope and
+lay them on the kitchen table in little piles, so
+much for meat, so much for eggs, so much for adhesive
+plaster, etc., until the kitchen table is covered.
+Then sweep it all into a bag and balance
+your books.</p>
+
+<p>Balancing the books is another point in the ideal
+system which often makes for trouble. Sticklers for
+form insist that the two sides of the page shall come
+out alike, even at the expense of your self-respect.
+It is the artificiality of this that hurts. No matter
+how much you spend, no matter how much you receive,
+at the bottom of the page they must add up
+to the same thing, with a double red line underneath
+them to show that the polls are closed.</p>
+
+<p>But since this is the accepted way of doing the
+thing, we might just as well concede the point and
+lay our plans accordingly. First take the sum that
+you have left over in the household exchequer at
+the end of the mouth. Put it, or its equivalent in
+check form, on the table in front of you. Then,
+working backward, find out how much you have
+spent since the first of the month. This sum is
+the crux of the whole system. Divide it into as
+many equal parts as you have accounts. For instance,
+Food, Rent, Clothes, Insurance and Savings,
+Operating Expenses, Higher Life. If you can't divide
+it so that it comes out even, tuck a little bit
+on the Higher Life account. And, as the student of
+French says," <i>Voilà</i>" (there it is)!</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps you have wondered what I meant by
+"Higher Life." I have. It might be well to state
+it here so that we can all get it clear in our minds.
+Under the "Higher Life" account you can charge
+everything that you want to do, but feel that you
+can't afford. If you want to take in an inconsequential
+theatrical performance and can't quite
+square it with your conscience, figure it out this
+way: By going to that show you will become so disgusted
+with the futility of such things that you will
+come out of the theater all aglow with a resolve to
+do a man's work in the world just as soon as you
+have caught up with your sleep. Surely that comes
+under "Advancement" or "Higher Life."</p>
+
+<p>Insurance budget helps always include under
+"Advancement" money spent for lectures. Now, it
+may be that I have drifted away from the big things
+in life since I moved out into the country, but somehow
+I can't just at this moment recollect standing
+in line at a box office for a lecture. But then, my
+home life is very pleasant.</p>
+
+<p>Lectures would be a very convenient heading,
+nevertheless, to have in your budget. Then, any
+little items that slip your attention during the month
+you can group under lectures and mark off ten paces
+in your advancement chart.</p>
+
+<p>By way of outlining beforehand just what you
+can spend on this and that (and it is usually on
+"that") it might be well to take another family
+with a representative income. Let us say that there
+are four in the family and that the income is about
+$1,000 per year too small. If such a family would
+sit down some evening and draw a chart showing
+father's earning capacity with one red line and
+the family spending capacity with one black line,
+they would not only have a pleasant evening, but
+they would have a nice, neat chart all drawn and
+suitable for framing.</p>
+
+<p>There is one little technical point that the amateur
+accountant will do well to remember. It gives
+a distinction to the page and shows that you are acquainted
+with bookkeeping lore. It is this: Label
+your debit column "credits" and your credit column
+"debits." You might think that what you
+receive into the exchequer would be credited and
+your expenses debited, but that is where you miss
+the whole theory of practical accounting. That
+would be too simple to be efficient. You must wax
+transcendental, and say, "I, as an individuated entity,
+am nothing. Everything is all; all is everything."
+There is a transcendent Account, to which
+all other accounts are responsible, and hence money
+turned over to the Cinnamon Account is not credited
+to that account, but rather debited to it, for
+Cinnamon hereby assumes the responsibility for the
+sum. As money is spent for Cinnamon, its account
+is credited, for it is relieved of that responsibility.
+Don't start wondering where the responsibility
+finally settles or you will throw something out of
+its stride in your brain.</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 422px;">
+<img src="images/img19_p108.jpg" width="422"
+alt="They would have a nice, neat chart suitable for framing." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Some people profess to scoff at the introduction
+of bookkeeping into the running of the household.
+It is simply because they never tasted the fascination
+of the thing.</p>
+
+<p>The advantage of keeping family accounts is
+clear. If you do not keep them you are uneasily
+aware of the fact that you are spending more than
+you are earning. If you do keep them, you know
+it.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="XI" id="XI"></a>XI</h3>
+
+<h4>A PIECE OF ROAST BEEF</h4>
+
+
+<p>Personally, I class roast beef with watercress
+and vanilla cornstarch pudding as tasty
+articles of diet. It undoubtedly has more than the
+required number of calories; it leans over backward
+in its eagerness to stand high among our best proteins,
+and, according to a vivid chart in the back
+of the cookbook, it is equal in food value to three
+dried raisins piled one on the other plus peanut-butter
+the size of an egg.</p>
+
+<p>But for all that I can't seem to feel that I am
+having a good time while I am eating it. It stimulates
+the same nerve centers in me that a lantern-slide
+lecture on "Palestine&mdash;the Old and the New,"
+does.</p>
+
+<p>However, I have noticed that there are people
+who are not bored by it; in fact, I have seen them
+deliberately order it in a restaurant when they had
+the choice of something else; so I thought that the
+only fair thing I could do would be to look into the
+matter and see if, in this great city, there weren't
+some different ways of serving roast beef to vary
+its monotony.</p>
+
+<p>Roast beef is not the same price in all eating-places.
+What makes the difference? What does
+a diner at the Ritz get in his "roast prime ribs of
+beef au jus" that makes it distinctive from the
+"Special to-day&mdash;roast beef and mashed potatoes"
+of the Bowery restaurant?</p>
+
+<p>To answer these questions I started out on a tour
+of the representative eating-places of some of our
+best known strata of society, and, whatever my conclusions
+are, you may be sure that they are thoroughly
+inexpert.</p>
+
+<p>First, I tried out what is known as the Bay State
+Lunch, so called because on Thursdays they have
+a fishcake special. It is one of the hundreds of
+"self-serving" lunchrooms, where you approach the
+marble counter and give your order in a low tone
+to a man in a barber's coat, and then repeat it at
+intervals of one minute, each time louder and each
+time to a different man, until you are forced to point
+to a tub of salmon salad and say, "Some of that,"
+for which your ticket is punched and you are allowed
+to take your portion and nurse it on the over-developed
+arm of a chair.</p>
+
+<p>Here the roast beef shot through the Punch and
+Judy arrangement in the wall, a piece of meat about
+as large around as a man's-size mitten, steeping in its
+own gravy and of a pale reddish hue. The price was
+twenty cents, which included a dab of mashed potato
+dished out in an ice-cream scoop, a generous allowance
+of tender peas, two hot tea-biscuits and butter
+to match.</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 407px;">
+<img src="images/img20_p112.jpg" width="407"
+alt="Considering the basic ingredient, it was a perfectly
+satisfactory meal." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Considering the basic ingredient, it was a perfectly
+satisfactory meal, and I felt that twenty
+cents was little enough to pay for it, especially since
+it was going in on my expense account.</p>
+
+<p>For the next experiment I went to a restaurant
+where business men are wont to gather for luncheon,
+men who pride themselves on their acumen and adherence
+to the principles of efficiency. The place
+has a French name and its menus are printed on a
+card the size of a life insurance company's complimentary
+calendar, always an ominous sign. The
+roast beef here was served cold, with a plate of
+escarole salad (when I was a boy I used to have
+to dig escarole out of the front lawn with a trowel
+so that the grass could have a chance) for seventy-five
+cents.</p>
+
+<p>The meat bulked a little larger than at the Bay
+State Lunch, but when the fat had been cut away
+and trimmed off the salvage was about the size of a
+boy's mitten. As for the taste, the only difference
+that I could detect was that one had been hot and
+the other cold.</p>
+
+<p>And, incidentally, the waiter had some bosom
+friends in the next room who fascinated him so that
+it was all I could do to make him see that if he
+didn't come around to me once in a while, just as
+a matter of form, there would be no way for me to
+tip him. Beef and salad, plus tip, ninety cents.</p>
+
+<p>That evening I ambled up the Bowery until I
+came to the Busy Home Restaurant. On a black-board
+in front was written, "Roast Beef, Mashed
+Potatoes and Coffee, 10 Cents." My old hunger
+again seized me. I said to myself: "Look here!
+Be a man! This thing is getting the best of you."
+But before I knew it I was inside and seated at
+an oilcloth-covered table, saying, in a hoarse voice,
+"Roast beef!"</p>
+
+<p>The waiter was dressed in an informal costume,
+with his shirt-sleeves rolled up and a mulatto apron
+about his waist, but he smiled genially when he took
+my order and was back with it in two minutes. The
+article itself was of the regulation size, cut somewhat
+thinner, perhaps, and bordering on the gray
+in hue, but undoubtedly roast beef. It, too, had an
+affinity for its own gravy and hid itself modestly
+under an avalanche of mashed potatoes. A cup of
+coffee was also included in the ten cents' initial expense,
+but I somehow wasn't coffee-thirsty that night,
+and so didn't sample it. But I did help myself to
+the plate piled high with fresh bread which was
+left in front of me. All in all, it was what I should
+call a representative roast beef dinner. And I got
+more than ten cents' worth of calories, I know.</p>
+
+<p>But so far I had kept below the Fourteenth Street
+belt in my investigations. Roast beef is a cosmopolitan
+habit, and knows no arbitrary boundaries;
+so I went uptown. Into one of the larger of our
+largest hotels, one which is not so near the Grand
+Central Station as to be in the train-shed, and yet
+not so far removed from it as to be represented by
+a different Assemblyman. Here, I felt, would be
+the test. Could roast beef come back? Surrounded
+by glittering chandeliers and rich tapestries, snowy
+table linen and silver service, here was the chance
+for the ordinary roast beef to become a veritable
+dainty, with some character, some distinctive touch
+that should lift it above all that roast beef has ever
+meant before. I entered the dining-room, in high
+hopes.</p>
+
+<p>Clad in a walking suit of virile tweed, I considered
+myself respectably dressed. Not ostentatiously
+respectable, mind you, but, since most of the other
+diners were in evening dress, rather <i>distingué</i>, I
+thought.</p>
+
+<p>But apparently the hotel retainers weren't trained
+to look through a rough exterior and find the sterling
+qualities beneath. They looked through my
+rough exterior all right, but they didn't stop at
+my sterling qualities. They looked right through
+to the man behind me, and gave him the signal
+that there was a seat for him.</p>
+
+<p>Not to be outdone, however, I got my place in
+the sun by cleverly tripping my rival as he passed
+me, so that he fell into the fountain arrangement,
+while I sat down in the seat pulled out for him by
+the head waiter. And, once I was in, there was
+nothing for them to do but let me stay.</p>
+
+<p>After I had been there a few minutes a waiter
+came and put on a fresh table cloth. Five minutes
+later another man placed a knife and spoon at my
+plate. Later in the evening a boy with a basket
+of rolls wandered by and deposited one on my table
+with a pair of pincers. Personally, I was rather
+glad that it was working out this way, for it would
+make my story all the better, but I might have really
+been in a hurry for my dinner.</p>
+
+<p>It wasn't long, as the crow flies, before one of
+the third assistant waiters unloosened enough to drop
+round and see if there was anything else I wanted
+besides one roll and a knife and spoon. I looked
+over the menu as if I were in a pretty captious mood,
+and then, with the air of an epicure who has tasted
+to the dregs all the condiments of Arabia and whose
+jaded palate refuses to thrill any longer, I ordered
+"roast beef."</p>
+
+<p>It was billed as "90 (.80)," which didn't strike
+me as being very steep, considering the overhead
+expense there must be in keeping little knots of
+waiters and 'bus-boys standing round doing nothing
+in the further corner of the room.</p>
+
+<p>The waiter wasn't very enthusiastic over my order,
+and something saved me from asking him if
+they threw in "a side" of mashed potatoes with
+the meat. He seemed to expect something more,
+even after I had ordered potatoes, so I suggested
+an artichoke. That cheered him up more than anything
+I had done that evening, and he really got
+quite fratty and said: "A little salad, sir?" Again
+I imitated a man who has had more experience with
+salads than any other three men put together and
+who has found them a miserable sham.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 422px;">
+<img src="images/img21_p117.jpg" width="422"
+alt="The waiter wasn't very enthusiastic over my order." title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>"No; that will be all for now," I said, and turned
+wearily away. I wanted to tell him that I had a
+dinner coat at home that looked enough sight better
+than his, but there is no use in making a scene
+when it can be avoided.</p>
+
+<p>During the next twenty minutes the orchestra
+played once and I ate my roll. Then the roast
+beef came.</p>
+
+<p>On a silver platter, with a silver cover, it was
+placed before me under the best possible scenic
+conditions. But the thing that met my gaze when
+the cover was lifted might just as well have been
+the same property piece of roast beef that was
+keeping company with a dab of mashed potato in
+the Bay State Lunch. It had a trifle more fat, was
+just a shade pinker, and perhaps a micrometer could
+have detected a bit more bulk; but, so far as I was
+concerned or so far as the calories were concerned,
+it was the same. I won't say that it was the same
+as the Roast Beef Special of the Bowery Restaurant,
+because the service in the Bowery Restaurant was
+infinitely better.</p>
+
+<p>As a fitting garniture to such a dish, there was a
+corsage of watercress draped on the corner of the
+salver. At any rate, it could be said for it that
+it was not intoxicating, and so could never cause
+any real misery in this world.</p>
+
+<p>I nibbled at my roast beef, but my spirit was
+broken. I had gone through a week of self-denial,
+ordering roast beef when I craved edibles, eating
+at restaurants while my family waited for me at
+home, and here was the result of my researches:
+Roast beef is roast beef, and nothing can prevent
+it. From the ten-cent order of the Busy Home Restaurant,
+up through to the piece I was then eating,
+it was the same grim reality, the only justification
+for a difference in price being a silver salver or a
+waiter in a tuxedo.</p>
+
+<p>"But," I said to myself, "eighty cents isn't so
+much, at that. Besides, I have heard the orchestra
+play one tune every half-hour, and have had a kind
+word from one of the <i>chargés d'affaires</i> of the waiter's
+staff."</p>
+
+<p>This quite reconciled me, until my check was
+brought. There, added to the initial expense of
+eighty cents, was the upkeep, such as "Cover, 25c."
+"Potatoes, 30c." And to this must be added the
+modest fee of twenty cents to the waiter and ten
+cents to the hat-boy who gave me the wrong hat.
+Total expense for one piece of roast beef, $1.70.</p>
+
+<p>These investigations may not prove to be much
+of a contribution to modern science or economics.
+I doubt if they are ever incorporated in any textbook,
+even if it should be a textbook on this very
+subject. But I must take credit to myself for one
+thing: Not once throughout the whole report have
+I alluded to the Tenderloin District.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="XII" id="XII"></a>XII</h3>
+
+<h4>THE COMMUNITY MASQUE AS A SUBSTITUTE FOR WAR</h4>
+
+
+<p>With War and Licker removed from the list
+of "What's Going on This Week," how will
+mankind spend the long summer evenings? Some
+advocate another war. Others recommend a piece
+of yeast in a glass of grape-juice. The effect is said
+to be equally devastating.</p>
+
+<p>But there is a new school, led by Percy Mackaye,
+which brings forward a scheme for occupying the
+spare time of the world which has, at least, the
+savor of novelty. It presents the community
+masque as a substitute for war. Whenever a neighborhood,
+or county, feels the old craving for blood-letting
+and gas-bombing coming on, a town meeting
+is to be called and plans drawn up for the presentation
+of a masque entitled "Democracy" or "From
+Chrysalis to Butterfly." In this simple way, one
+and all will be kept out in the open air and will
+get to know each other better, thus relieving their
+bellicose cravings right there on the village green
+among themselves, without dragging a foreign nation
+into the mess at all. The slogan is "Fight
+Your Neighbors First. Why Go Abroad for War?"</p>
+
+<p>The community masque idea is all right in itself.
+There certainly can be no harm in dressing up to
+represent the Three Platoon System, or the Spirit
+of Machinery, and reciting free verse to the effect
+that:</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"I am the Three Platoon System. Firemen I represent,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And the clash and clang of the Hook and Ladder Company."</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>No one could find fault with that, provided that
+those taking part in the thing do so of their own
+free will and understand what they are doing.</p>
+
+<p>The trouble with the community masque is not
+so much with the masque as with the community.
+For while the masque may be a five star sporting
+extra hot from the presses of Percy Mackaye, the
+community is the same old community that has
+been getting together for inter-Sunday School track-meets
+and Wig and Footlight Club Amateur Theatricals
+for years and years, and the result has always
+been the same.</p>
+
+<p>Let us say, for instance, that the community of
+Wimblehurst begins to feel the lack of a good, rousing
+war to keep the Ladies' Guild and the men over
+thirty-five busy. What could be more natural than
+to call in Mr. Mackaye, and say: "What have you
+got in the way of a nice masque for a suburban district
+containing many socially possible people
+and others who might do very well in ensemble
+work?"</p>
+
+<p>Something entitled "The March of Civilization"
+is selected, because it calls for Boy Scout uniforms
+and a Goddess of Liberty costume, all of which are
+on hand, together with lots of Red Cross regalia,
+left over from the war drives. The plot of the thing
+concerns the adventures of the young girl <i>Civilization</i>
+who leaves her home in the <i>Neolithic Period</i>
+accompanied only by her faithful old nurse <i>Language</i>
+and <i>Language's</i> little children the <i>Vowels</i> and
+the <i>Consonants</i>. She is followed all the way from
+the Neolithic Age to the Present Time by the evil
+spirit, <i>Indigestion</i>, but, thanks to the helpful offices
+of the <i>Spirits of Capillary Attraction</i>, and <i>Indestructibility
+of Matter</i>, she overcomes all obstacles
+and reaches her goal, <i>The League of Nations</i>, at
+last.</p>
+
+<p>But during the course of her wanderings, there
+have been all kinds of sub-plots which bring the
+element of suspense into the thing. For instance,
+it seems that this person <i>Indigestion</i> has found out
+something about <i>Civilization's</i> father which gives
+him the upper hand over the girl, and he, together
+with the two gunmen, <i>Heat</i> and <i>Humidity</i>, arrange
+all kinds of traps for the poor thing to fall into.
+But she takes counsel with the kind old lady, <i>Self-Determination
+of Peoples</i>, and is considerably
+helped by the low comedy character, <i>Obesity</i>, who
+always appears at just the right moment. So in the
+end, there is a big ensemble, involving Boy Scouts,
+representatives of those Allies who happen to be in
+good standing in that particular month, seven boys
+and girls personifying the twelve months of the year,
+Red Cross workers, the Mayor's Committee of Welcome,
+a selection of Major Prophets, children typifying
+the ten different ways of cooking an egg, and
+the all-pervading <i>Spirit of the Post-Office Department</i>,
+seated on a daïs in the rear and watching over
+the assemblage with kindly eyes and an armful of
+bricks.</p>
+
+<p>This, then, is in brief outline, "The March of
+Civilization," selected for presentation by the Community
+Council of Wimblehurst. It is to be done
+on the edge of the woods which line the golf-course,
+and on paper, the thing shapes up rather
+well.</p>
+
+<p>Considerable hard feeling arises, however, over
+the choice of the children to play the parts of the
+<i>Vowels</i> and the <i>Consonants</i>. It is, of course, not
+possible to have all the vowels and consonants represented,
+as they would clutter up the stage and
+might prove unwieldy in the allegretto passages.
+A compromise is therefore effected by personifying
+only the more graceful ones, like <i>S</i> and the lower-case
+<i>f</i>, and this means that a certain discrimination
+must be used in selecting the actors. It also means
+that a great many little girls are going to be disappointed
+and their mothers' feelings outraged.</p>
+
+<p>Little Alice Withstanley is chosen to play the part
+of the <i>Craft Guild Movement in Industry</i>, showing
+the rise of coöperation and unity among the working-classes.
+She is chosen because she has blonde
+hair which can be arranged in braids down her back,
+obviously essential to a proper representation of industrial
+team-work as a moving force in the world's
+progress. It so happens, however, that the daughter
+of the man who is cast for <i>Humidity</i> has had her
+eyes on this ingénue part ever since the printed text
+was circulated and had virtually been promised it
+by the Head of the House Committee of the Country
+Club, through whose kindness the grounds were
+to be used for the performance. There is a heated
+discussion over the merits of the two contestants
+between Mrs. Withstanley and the mother of the
+betrayed girl, which results in the withdrawal of
+the latter's offer to furnish Turkish rugs for the
+Oriental Decadence scene.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 439px;">
+<img src="images/img22_p126.jpg" width="439"
+alt="There is a heated discussion between Mrs. Withstanley and the
+mother of the betrayed girl." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Following this, the rougher element of the community&mdash;enlisted
+to take part in the scenes showing
+the building of the Pyramids and the first Battle of
+Bull Run&mdash;appear at one of the early rehearsals in
+a state of bolshevik upheaval, protesting against
+the unjust ruling which makes them attend all rehearsals
+and wait around on the side hill until their
+scenes are on, keeping them inactive sometimes
+from two to three hours, according to the finish with
+which the principals get through the prologue and
+opening scenes showing the Creation. The proletariat
+present an ultimatum, saying that the Committee
+in charge can either shorten their waiting
+hours or remove the restrictions on crap-shooting
+on the side-hill during their periods of inaction.</p>
+
+<p>There is a meeting of the Director and his assistants
+who elect a delegation to confer with the striking
+legionaries, with the result that no compromise
+is reached, the soviet withdraws from the masque
+in a body, threatening to set fire to the grass on
+the first night of the performance.</p>
+
+<p>During the rehearsals the husband of the woman
+who is portraying <i>Winter Wheat</i> is found wandering
+along the brookside with her sister cereal <i>Spring
+Wheat</i>, which, of course, makes further polite coöperation
+between these two staples impossible, and
+the Dance of the Food Stuffs has to be abandoned
+at the last moment. This adds to the general tension.</p>
+
+<p>Three nights before the first performance the Director
+calls every one to a meeting in the trophy
+room of the Club-house and says that, so far as he
+is concerned, the show is off. He has given up his
+time to come out here, night after night, in an attempt
+to put on a masque that will be a credit to
+the community and a significant event in the world
+of art, and what has he found? Indifference, irresponsibility,
+lack of coöperation, non-attendance
+at rehearsals, and a spirit of <i>laissez-faire</i> in the face
+of which it is impossible to produce a successful
+masque. Consideration for his own reputation, as
+well as that of the township, makes it necessary
+for him to throw the whole thing over, here and
+now.</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 466px;">
+<img src="images/img22a_p128.jpg" width="466"
+alt="The audience is composed chiefly of the aged and
+the infirm." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>The Chairman of the Committee then gets up and
+cries a little, and says that he is sure that if every
+one agrees to pull together during these last three
+days and to attend rehearsals faithfully and to try
+to get plenty of sleep, Mr. Parsleigh, the coach, will
+consent to help them through with the performance,
+and he asks every one who is willing to coöperate
+to say "Aye." Every one says "Aye" and Mr.
+Parsleigh is won over.</p>
+
+<p>As for the masque itself, it is given, of course;
+and as most of the able-bodied people of the community
+are taking part, the audience is composed
+chiefly of the aged and the infirm, who catch muscular
+rheumatism from sitting out-of-doors and are
+greatly bored, except during those scenes when their
+relatives are taking part. The masque is hailed as
+a great success, however, in spite of the fact that
+the community has been disrupted and social life
+made impossible until the next generation grows up
+and agrees to let bygones be bygones.</p>
+
+<p>But as a substitute for war, it has no equal.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="XIII" id="XIII"></a>XIII</h3>
+
+<h4>CALL FOR MR. KENWORTHY!</h4>
+
+
+<p>A great many people have wondered to
+themselves, in print, just where the little
+black laundry-studs go after they have been
+yanked from the shirt. Others pass this by as inconsequential,
+but are concerned over the ultimate
+disposition of all the pencil stubs that are thrown
+away. Such futile rumination is all well enough
+for those who like it. As for me, give me a big,
+throbbing question like this: "Who are the people
+that one hears being paged in hotels? Are they real
+people or are they decoys? And if they are real
+people, what are they being paged for?"</p>
+
+<p>Now, there's something vital to figure out. And
+the best of it is that it <i>can</i> be figured out by the
+simple process of following the page to see whether
+he ever finds any one.</p>
+
+<p>In order that no expense should be spared, I
+picked out a hotel with poor service, which means
+that it was an expensive hotel. It was so expensive
+that all you could hear was the page's voice as he
+walked by you; his footfalls made no noise in the
+extra heavy Bokhara. It was just a mingling of
+floating voices, calling for "Mr. Bla-bla, Mr.
+Schwer-a-a, Mr. Twa-a-a."</p>
+
+<p>Out of this wealth of experimental material I
+picked a boy with a discouraged voice like Wallace
+Eddinger's, who seemed to be saying "I'm calling
+these names&mdash;because that's my job&mdash;if I wasn't
+calling these&mdash;I'd be calling out cash totals in an
+honor system lunchery&mdash;but if any one should ever
+answer to one of these names&mdash;I'd have a poor
+spell."</p>
+
+<p>Allowing about fifteen feet distance between us
+for appearance's sake, I followed him through the
+lobby. He had a bunch of slips in his hand and
+from these he read the names of the pagees.</p>
+
+<p>"Call for Mr. Kenworthy&mdash;Mr. Shriner&mdash;Mr.
+Bodkin&mdash;Mr. Blevitch&mdash;Mr. Kenworthy&mdash;Mr. Bodkin&mdash;Mr.
+Kenworthy&mdash;Mr. Shriner&mdash;call for Mr.
+Kenworthy&mdash;Mr. Blevitch&mdash;Mr. Kenworthy."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Kenworthy seemed to be standing about a
+20 per cent better chance of being located than any
+of the other contestants. Probably the boy was of
+a romantic temperament and liked the name. Sometimes
+that was the only name he would call for mile
+upon mile. It occurred to me that perhaps Mr.
+Kenworthy was the only one wanted, and that the
+other names were just put in to make it harder, or
+to give body to the thing.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 309px;">
+<img src="images/img23_p132.jpg" width="309"
+alt="Sometimes that was the only name he would call for mile
+upon mile." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>But when we entered the bar the youth shifted
+his attack. The name of Kenworthy evidently had
+begun to cloy. He was fed up on romance and
+wanted something substantial, homely, perhaps, but
+substantial.</p>
+
+<p>So he dropped Kenworthy and called: "Mr.
+Blevitch. Call for Mr. Blevitch&mdash;Mr. Shriner&mdash;Mr.
+Bodkin&mdash;Mr. Blevitch&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>But even this subtle change of tactics failed to net
+him a customer. We had gone through the main
+lobby, along the narrow passage lined with young
+men waiting on sofas for young women who would
+be forty minutes late, through the grill, and now
+had crossed the bar, and no one had raised even an
+eyebrow. No wonder the boy's voice sounded discouraged.</p>
+
+<p>As we went through one of the lesser dining-rooms,
+the dining-room that seats a lot of heavy men
+in business suits holding cigarettes, who lean over
+their plates the more confidentially to converse with
+their blond partners, in this dining-room the plaintive
+call drew fire. One of the men in business
+suits, who was at a table with another man and two
+women, lifted his head when he heard the sound
+of names being called.</p>
+
+<p>"Boy!" he said, and waved like a traffic officer
+signaling, "Come!"</p>
+
+<p>Eagerly the page darted forward. Perhaps this
+was Mr. Kenworthy! Or better yet, Mr. Blevitch.</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: px;">
+<img src="images/img24_p134.jpg" width=""
+alt="Anything here for Studz?" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>"Anything here for Studz?" said the man in the
+business suit, when he was sure that enough people
+were listening.</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir," sighed the boy. "Mr. Blevitch, Mr.
+Kenworthy, Mr. Shriner, Mr. Bodkin?" he suggested,
+hopefully.</p>
+
+<p>"Naw," replied the man, and turned to his associates
+with an air of saying: "Rotten service here&mdash;just
+think of it, no call for me!"</p>
+
+<p>On we went again. The boy was plainly skeptical.
+He read his lines without feeling. The management
+had led him into this; all he could do was
+to take it with as good grace as possible.</p>
+
+<p>He slid past the coat-room girl at the exit (no
+small accomplishment in itself) and down a corridor,
+disappearing through a swinging door at the end.
+I was in no mood to lose out on the finish after following
+so far, and I dashed after him.</p>
+
+<p>The door led into a little alcove and another palpitating
+door at the opposite end showed me where
+he had gone. Setting my jaw for no particular reason,
+I pushed my way through.</p>
+
+<p>At first, like the poor olive merchant in the
+Arabian Nights I was blinded by the glare of lights
+and the glitter of glass and silver. Oh, yes, and by
+the snowy whiteness of the napery, too. "By the
+napery of the neck" wouldn't be a bad line to get
+off a little later in the story. I'll try it.</p>
+
+<p>At any rate, it was but the work of a minute for
+me to realize that I had entered by a service entrance
+into the grand dining-room of the establishment,
+where, if you are not in evening dress, you are
+left to munch bread and butter until you starve to
+death and are carried out with your heels dragging,
+like the uncouth lout that you are. It was, if I may
+be allowed the phrase, a galaxy of beauty, with
+every one dressed up like the pictures. And I had
+entered 'way up front, by the orchestra.</p>
+
+<p>Now, mind you, I am not ashamed of my gray
+suit. I like it, and my wife says that I haven't had
+anything so becoming for a long time. But in it I
+didn't check up very strong against the rest of the
+boys in the dining-room. As a gray suit it is above
+reproach. As a garment in which to appear single-handed
+through a trapdoor before a dining-room of
+well dressed Middle Westerners it was a fizzle from
+start to finish. Add to this the items that I had to
+snatch a brown soft hat from my head when I found
+out where I was, which caused me to drop the three
+evening papers I had tucked under my arm, and
+you will see why my up-stage entrance was the signal
+for the impressive raising of several dozen eyebrows,
+and why the captain approached me just
+exactly as one man approaches another when he is
+going to throw him out.</p>
+
+<p>(Blank space for insertion of "napery of neck"
+line, if desired. Choice optional with reader.)</p>
+
+<p>I saw that anything that I might say would be
+used against me, and left him to read the papers I
+had dropped. One only lowers one's self by having
+words with a servitor.</p>
+
+<p>Gradually I worked my way back through the
+swinging doors to the main corridor and rushed
+down to the regular entrance of the grand dining-salon,
+to wait there until my quarry should emerge.
+Suppose he should find all of his consignees in this
+dining-room! I could not be in at the death then,
+and would have to falsify my story to make any
+kind of ending at all. And that would never do.</p>
+
+<p>Once in a while I would catch the scent, when,
+from the humming depths of the dining-room, I
+could hear a faint "Call for Mr. Kenworthy" rising
+above the click of the oyster shells and the soft
+crackling of the "potatoes Julienne" one against
+another. So I knew that he had not failed me, and
+that if I had faith and waited long enough he would
+come back.</p>
+
+<p>And, sure enough, come back he did, and without
+a name lost from his list. I felt like cheering
+when I saw his head bobbing through the mêlée of
+waiters and 'bus-boys who were busy putting clean
+plates on the tables and then taking them off again
+in eight seconds to make room for more clean
+plates. Of all discouraging existences I can imagine
+none worse than that of an eternally clean plate.
+There can be no sense of accomplishment, no glow
+of duty done, in simply being placed before a man
+and then taken away again. It must be almost as
+bad as paging a man who you are sure is not in
+the hotel.</p>
+
+<p>The futility of the thing had already got on the
+page's nerves, and in a savage attempt to wring a
+little pleasure out of the task he took to welding
+the names, grafting a syllable of one to a syllable of
+another, such as "Call for Mr. Kenbodkin&mdash;Mr.
+Shrineworthy&mdash;Mr. Blevitcher."</p>
+
+<p>This gave us both amusement for a little while,
+but your combinations are limited in a thing like
+that, and by the time the grill was reached he was
+saying the names correctly and with a little more
+assurance.</p>
+
+<p>It was in the grill that the happy event took place.
+Mr. Shriner, the one of whom we expected least,
+suddenly turned up at a table alone. He was a
+quiet man and not at all worked up over his unexpected
+honor. He signaled the boy with one hand
+and went on taking soup with the other, and learned,
+without emotion, that he was wanted on the telephone.
+He even made no move to leave his meal to
+answer the call, and when last seen he was adding
+pepper with one hand and taking soup with the
+other. I suspect that he was a "plant," or a plain-clothes
+house detective, placed there on purpose to
+deceive me.</p>
+
+<p>We had been to every nook of the hotel by this
+time, except the writing-room, and, of course, no
+one would ever look there for patrons of the hotel.
+Seeing that the boy was about to totter, I went up
+and spoke to him. He continued to totter, thinking,
+perhaps, that I was Mr. Kenworthy, his long-lost
+beau-ideal. But I spoke kindly to him and
+offered him a piece of chocolate almond-bar, and
+soon, in true reporter fashion, had wormed his
+secret from him before he knew what I was really
+after.</p>
+
+<p>The thing I wanted to find out was, of course,
+just what the average is of replies to one paging
+trip. So I got around it in this manner: offering
+him another piece of chocolate almond-bar, I said,
+slyly: "Just what is the average number of replies
+to one paging trip?"</p>
+
+<p>I think that he had suspected something at first,
+but this question completely disarmed him, and,
+leaning against an elderly lady patron, he told me
+everything.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," he said, "it's this way: sometimes I find
+a man, and sometimes I can go the rounds without
+a bite. To-night, for instance, here I've got four
+names and one came across. That's about the
+average&mdash;perhaps one in six."</p>
+
+<p>I asked him why he had given Mr. Kenworthy
+such a handicap at the start.</p>
+
+<p>A faint smile flickered across his face and then
+flickered back again.</p>
+
+<p>"I call the names I think will be apt to hang
+round in the part of the hotel I'm in. Mr. Kenworthy
+would have to be in the dressy dining-room
+or in the lobby where they wait for ladies.
+You'd never find him in the bar or the Turkish
+baths. On the other hand, you'll never find a man
+by the name of Blevitch anywhere except in the bar.
+Of course, I take a chance and call every name once
+in so often, no matter where I am, but, on the whole,
+I uses my own discretion."</p>
+
+<p>I gave him another piece of chocolate and the
+address of a good bootmaker and left him. What I
+had heard had sobered me, and the lights and music
+suddenly seemed garish. It is no weak emotion to
+feel that you have been face to face with a mere boy
+whose chances of success in his work are one to six.</p>
+
+<p>And I found that he had not painted the lily in
+too glowing terms. I followed other pages that
+night&mdash;some calling for "Mr. Strudel," some for
+"Mr. Carmickle," and one was broad-minded
+enough to page a "Mrs. Bemis." But they all came
+back with that wan look in their eyes and a break
+in their voices.</p>
+
+<p>And each one of them was stopped by the man in
+the business suit in the downstairs dining-room and
+each time he considered it a personal affront that
+there wasn't a call for "Studz."</p>
+
+<p>Some time I'm going to have him paged, and
+when he comes out I shall untie his necktie for him.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="XIV" id="XIV"></a>XIV</h3>
+
+<h4>FOOTBALL; COURTESY OF MR. MORSE</h4>
+
+
+<p>Sunday morning these fine fall days are taken
+up with reading about the "40,000 football
+enthusiasts" or the "gaily-bedecked crowd of
+60,000 that watched the game on Saturday." And
+so they probably did, unless there were enough men
+in big fur coats who jumped up at every play and
+yelled "Now we're off!" thus obstructing the view
+of an appreciable percentage.</p>
+
+<p>But why stop at the mention of the paltry 50,000
+who sat in the Bowl or the Stadium? Why forget
+the twice 50,000 all over the country, in Chicago,
+St. Louis, San Francisco, Atlanta, who watched the
+same game over the ticker, or sat in a smoke-fogged
+room listening to telegraphic announcements, play
+by play, or who even stood on the curbing in front
+of a newspaper office and watched an impartial
+employee shove a little yellow ball along a black-board,
+usually indicating the direction in which the
+real football was <i>not</i> going. Since it is so important
+to give the exact number of people who saw the
+game, why not do the thing up right and say: "Returns
+which are now coming in from the Middle
+West, with some of the rural districts still to be
+heard from, indicate that at least 145,566 people
+watched the Yale-Princeton football game yesterday.
+Secretary Dinwoodie of the San Francisco
+Yale Club telegraphed late last night that the final
+count in that city would probably swell the total to
+a round 150,395. This is, or will be, the largest
+crowd that ever assembled in one country to watch
+a football game."</p>
+
+<p>And watching the game in this vicarious manner
+isn't so bad as the fellow who has got tickets and
+carfare to the real game would like to have it. You
+are in a warm room, where you can stretch your
+legs and regulate your remarks to the intensity of
+your emotions rather than to the sex of your neighbors.
+And as for thrills! "Dramatic suspense"
+was probably first used as a term in connection with
+this indoor sport.</p>
+
+<p>The scene is usually some college club in the city&mdash;a
+big room full of smoke and graduates. At one
+end is a scoreboard and miniature gridiron, along
+which a colored counter is moved as the telegraph
+behind the board clicks off the plays hot from the
+real gridiron. There is also an announcer, who, by
+way of clarifying the message depicted on the
+board, reads the wrong telegram in a loud, clear
+tone.</p>
+
+<p>Just as the crowd in the football arena are crouching
+down in their fur coats the better to avoid
+watching the home team fumble the kick-off, the
+crowds two and ten hundred miles away are settling
+back in their chairs and lighting up the old pipes,
+while the German-silver-tongued announcer steps to
+the front of the platform and delivers the following:</p>
+
+<p>"Yale won the toss and chose to defend the south
+goal, Princeton taking the west."</p>
+
+<p>This mistake elicits much laughter, and a witty
+graduate who has just had lunch wants to know, as
+one man to the rest of the house, if it is puss-in-the-corner
+that is being played.</p>
+
+<p>The instrument behind the board goes "Tick-ity-tick-tick-tickity."</p>
+
+<p>There is a hush, broken only by the witty graduate,
+who, encouraged by his first success, wants to
+know again if it is puss-in-the-corner that is being
+played. This fails to gain.</p>
+
+<p>"Gilblick catches the kick-off and runs the ball
+back to his own 3-yard line, where he is downed in
+his tracks," comes the announcement.</p>
+
+<p>There is a murmur of incredulity at this. The
+little ball on the board shoots to the middle of the
+field.</p>
+
+<p>"Hey, how about that?" shout several precincts.</p>
+
+<p>The announcer steps forward again.</p>
+
+<p>"That was the wrong announcement," he admits.
+"Tweedy caught the kick-off and ran the ball back
+twenty-five yards to midfield, where he is thrown
+for a loss. On the next play there was a forward
+pass, Klung to Breakwater, which&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Here the message stops. Intense excitement.</p>
+
+<p>"Tickity-tickity-tick-tickity."</p>
+
+<p>The man who has $5 on the game shuts his eyes
+and says to his neighbor: "I'll bet it was intercepted."</p>
+
+<p>A wait of two triple-space minutes while the announcer
+winds his watch. Then he steps forward.
+There is a noisy hush.</p>
+
+<p>"It is estimated that 50,000 people filed into the
+Palmer Stadium to-day to watch Yale and Princeton
+in their annual gridiron contest," he reads.
+"Yale took the field at five minutes of 2, and was
+greeted by salvos and applause and cheering from
+the Yale section. A minute later the Princeton team
+appeared, and this was a signal for the Princeton
+cohorts to rise as one man and give vent to their
+famous 'Undertaker's Song.'"</p>
+
+<p>"How about that forward pass?" This, as one
+man, from the audience.</p>
+
+<p>The ball quivers and starts to go down the field.
+A mighty shout goes up. Then something happens,
+and the ball stops, looks, listens and turns in the
+other direction. Loud groans. A wooden slide in
+the mechanism of the scoreboard rattles into place,
+upside down. Agile spectators figure out that it
+says "Pass failed."</p>
+
+<p>Every one then sinks back and says, "They
+ought not to have tried that." If the quarterback
+could hear the graduates' do-or-die backing of their
+team at this juncture he would trot into the locker
+building then and there.</p>
+
+<p>Again the clear voice from the platform:</p>
+
+<p>"Tweedy punts&mdash;" (noisy bond-salesman in back
+of room stands up on a chair and yells "Yea!"
+and is told to "Shut up" by three or four dozen
+neighbors) "to Gumble on his 15-yard line. Gumble
+fumbles."</p>
+
+<p>The noisy bond-salesman tries to lead a cheer but
+is prevented.</p>
+
+<p>Frightful tension follows. Who recovered?
+Whose ball is it? On what line? Wet palms are
+pressed against trouser legs. How about it?</p>
+
+<p>"Tick-tickity-tick-tickity-tickity-tickity."</p>
+
+<p>You can hear the announcer's boots squeak as he
+steps forward.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. A.T. Blevitch is wanted on the telephone,"
+he enunciates.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. A.T. Blevitch becomes the most unpopular
+man in that section of the country. Every one turns
+to see what a man of his stamp can look like. He
+is so embarrassed that he slinks down in his seat
+and refuses to answer the call.</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 317px;">
+<img src="images/img25_p147.jpg" width="317"
+alt="Noisy bond-salesman in back of room
+stands up on chair and yells 'Yea!'" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>"Klung goes around right end for a gain of two
+yards," is the next message from the front.</p>
+
+<p>The bond-salesman shouts "Yea!"</p>
+
+<p>"How about that fumble?" shouts every one
+else.</p>
+
+<p>The announcer goes behind the scenes to talk it
+over with the man who works the Punch-and-Judy,
+and emerges, smiling.</p>
+
+<p>"In the play preceding the one just announced,"
+he says, "Gumble fumbled and the ball was recovered
+by Breakwater, who ran ten yards for a
+touchdown&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Pandemonium! The bond-salesman leads himself
+in a cheer. The witty man says, "Nothing to it."</p>
+
+<p>There is comparative quiet again, and every one
+lights up the old pipes that have gone out.</p>
+
+<p>The announcer steps forward with his hand raised
+as if to regulate traffic.</p>
+
+<p>"There was a mistake in the announcement just
+made," he says pleasantly. "In place of 'touchdown'
+read 'touchback.' The ball is now in play
+on the 20-yard line, and Kleenwell has just gone
+through center for three yards."</p>
+
+<p>By this time no one in the audience has any definite
+idea of where the ball is or who has it. On the
+board it is hovering between midfield and second
+base.</p>
+
+<p>"On the next play Legly punts&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Block that punt! Block that punt!" warns the
+bond-salesman, as if it were the announcer who was
+opposing Legly.</p>
+
+<p>"Sit down, you poor fish!" is the consensus of
+opinion.</p>
+
+<p>"Legly punts to Klung on the latter's 25-yard
+line, where the first period ends."</p>
+
+<p>And so it goes throughout the game; the announcer
+calling out gains and the dummy football
+registering corresponding losses; Messrs. A.T.
+Blevitch and L.H. Yank being wanted on the telephone
+in the middle of forward passes; the noisy
+person in the back of the room yelling "Yea" on
+the slightest provocation and being hushed up at
+each outbreak; and every one wondering what the
+quarterback meant by calling for the plays he did.</p>
+
+<p>In smaller cities, where only a few are gathered
+together to hear the results, things are not done on
+such an elaborate scale. The dummy gridiron and
+the dummy announcer are done away with and the
+ten or a dozen rooters cluster about the news ticker,
+most of them with the intention of watching for
+just a few minutes and then going home or back to
+the office. And they always wait for just one more
+play, shifting from one foot to the other, until the
+game is over.</p>
+
+<p>About a ticker only the three or four lucky ones
+can see the tape. The rest have to stand on tip-toe
+and peer over the shoulders of the man in front.
+They don't care. Some one will always read the
+results aloud, just as a woman will read aloud the
+cut-ins at the movies. The one who is doing the
+reading usually throws in little advance predictions
+of his own when the news is slow in coming, with
+the result that those in the back get the impression
+that the team has at least a "varied attack," effecting
+at times a field goal and a forward pass in the
+same play.</p>
+
+<p>A critical period in the game, as it comes dribbling
+in over the ticker, looks something like this:</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">YALE.PRINCTON.GAME....CHEKFMKL.......KLUNG.GOES.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">AROUND.LEFT.END.FOR.A.GAIN.OF.YDS.....A.FORWARD.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">PASS.TWEEDY.TO.KLUNG.NETS.....</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">(Ticker stops ticking).</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>Murmurs of "Come on, there, whasser matter?"</p>
+
+<p>Some one suggests that the pass was illegal and
+that the whole team has been arrested.</p>
+
+<p>The ticker clears its throat. Br-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r</p>
+
+<p>The ticker stabs off a line of dots and begins:</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"BOWIE.FIRST.RACE..MEASLES. FIRST..13.60..AND..</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">6.00.WHORTLEBERRY.SCND.PLACE.3.80..EMMA GOLDMAN,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">THIRD..TIME.1.09.4.5.NON.START.PROCRASTINATION.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">UNCLE TOM'S CABIN"</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>A few choice remarks are passed in the privacy
+of the little circle, to just the effect that you would
+suspect.</p>
+
+<p>A newcomer elbows his way in and says: "What's
+the good word? Any score yet?" and some one
+replies: "Yes. The score now stands 206 to 0 in
+favor of Notre Dame." This grim pleasantry is expressive
+of the sentiment of the group toward newcomers.
+It is each man for himself now.</p>
+
+<p>Br-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r!</p>
+
+<p>"Here she comes, now!" whispers the man who is hanging over the glass
+news terminal, reading aloud: "Yale-Princeton-Game-Second Quarter
+(Good-night, what became of that forward pass in the first quarter?)
+Yale's-ball-in-mid-field-Hornung-takes-ball-around-left-end-making-it-
+first-down-Tinfoil-drops-back-for-a-try-at-a-field-goal. (Oh, boy!
+Come on, now!)"</p>
+
+<p>"Why the deuce do they try a field goal on the
+first down?" asks a querulous graduate-strategist.
+"Now, what he ought to do is to keep a-plugging
+there at tackle, where he has been going&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Br-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r!</p>
+
+<p>"Bet he missed it!" offers some one with vague
+gambling instincts.</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"..INS.NEEDLES..1&frac14;..ZINC..CON..4&frac12;..WASHN..</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">THE CENSUS.OFFICE.ESTIMATES.THE CONSUMPTION.OF</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">COTTON.WASTE.IN.THE.MFGR.OF.AUTOMBLE.HOODS.AS.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">66.991.059 LBS..INCLUDING.LINTERS.AND.HULL FIBER.."</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>And just then some one comes in from the outside,
+all fresh and disagreeably cheery, and wants
+to know what the score is and if there have been
+many forward passes tried and who is playing
+quarter for Yale, and if any one has got a cigarette.</p>
+
+<p>It is really just the same sort of program as obtains
+in the big college club, only on a small scale.
+They are all watching the same game and they are
+all wishing the same thing and before their respective
+minds' eyes is the picture of the same stadium,
+with the swarm of queen bees and drones clinging
+to its sides. And every time that you, who are one
+of the cold and lucky ones with a real ticket, see a
+back break loose for a long run and hear the explosion
+of hoarse shouts that follows, you may count
+sixty and then listen to hear the echo from every big
+city in the country where the old boys have just
+got the news.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="XV" id="XV"></a>XV</h3>
+
+<h4>A LITTLE DEBIT IN YOUR TONNEAU</h4>
+
+
+<p>Motorists, as a class, are not averse to
+public discussion of their troubles. In fact,
+one often wonders how some of them ever get time
+to operate their cars, so tied up do they seem to be
+with these little experience-meetings, at which one
+man tells, with appropriate gestures, how he ran out
+of gas between Springfield and Worcester, while
+another gives a perfect bit of character acting to
+show just how the policeman on the outskirts of
+Trenton behaved.</p>
+
+<p>But there seems to be one phase of the motorist's
+trials which he never bares to the public. He will
+confide to you just how bad the gasoline was that
+he bought at the country garage; he will make it an
+open secret that he had four blow-outs on the way
+home from the country-club; but of one of his most
+poignant sorrows he never speaks. I refer to the
+guests who snuggle in his tonneau.</p>
+
+<p>Probably more irritations have arisen from the
+tonneau than from the tires, day in and day out, and
+yet you never hear a man say, "Well, I certainly
+had an unholy crew of camp-followers out with me
+to-day&mdash;friends of my wife." Say what you will,
+there is an innate delicacy in the average motorist,
+or such repression could not be.</p>
+
+<p>Consider the types of tonneau guests. They are
+as generic and fundamental as the spectrum and you
+will find them in Maine and New Mexico at the
+same time.</p>
+
+<p>There is the first, or major, classification, which
+may be designated as the Financially Paralyzed.
+Persons in this class, on stepping into your machine,
+automatically transfer all their money troubles to
+you. You become, for the duration of the ride,
+whether it be to the next corner or to Palm Beach,
+their financial guardian, and any little purchases
+which are incidental to the trip (such as three meals
+a day) belong to your list of running expenses.
+There seems to be something about the motion of
+the automobile that inhibits their ability to reach
+for their purses, and they become, if you want to
+be poetical about it, like clay in the hands of the
+potter. Whither thou goest they will go; thy check-book
+is their check-book. It is just like the one
+great, big, jolly family&mdash;of which you are the father
+and backer.</p>
+
+<p>Such people always make a great to-do about
+starting off on a trip. You call for them and they
+appear at the window and wave, to signify that they
+see you, and go through motions to show that just
+as soon as Clara has put on her leggings they will
+be down. Soon they appear, swathed in a tremendous
+quantity of motor wraps and veils (you can
+usually tell the guests in a car by the number of
+head-veils they wear) and get halfway down the
+walk, when Clara remembers her rain-coat and has
+to swish back upstairs, veils and all. Out again, and
+just as they get wedged into the tonneau, the elderly
+guest wonders if there is time for some one to run
+in again and tell Helma that if the Salvation Army
+man comes for the old magazines she is to tell him
+to come again to-morrow. By the time this message
+is relayed to Helma Garcia one solid half-hour has
+been dissipated from the cream of the morning.
+This does not prevent the guests from remarking, as
+the motor starts, that it certainly is a heavenly day
+and that it couldn't have been better if it had been
+ordered. Knowing the type, you can say to yourself
+that if the day <i>had</i> been ordered you know who
+would have had to give the order and pay the check.</p>
+
+<p>From that time on, you are the moneyed interest
+behind the venture. Meals at road-houses, toll
+charges, evening papers, hot chocolates at the country
+drug store, hair net for Clara, and, of course, a
+liberal injection of gasoline on the way home, all of
+these items and about fourteen others come in your
+bailiwick. The guests have been asked out for a
+ride, and "findings is keepings." If you have
+money enough to run a car, you probably have
+money enough to support them for a day or so.
+That's only fair, isn't it?</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 409px;">
+<img src="images/img26_p156.jpg" width="409"
+alt="He always has a quip to snap at you to keep you
+cheered up." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Under a sub-head (a), in this same category,
+come the guests who are stricken with <i>rigor mortis</i>
+when there are any repairs to be made about the
+machine. Male offenders in this line are, of course,
+the only ones that can be dealt with here; putting
+on a tire is no job for women and children. But the
+man who is the life of the party in the tonneau
+throughout the trip, who thinks nothing of climbing
+all over the back of the car in imitation of a Roman
+charioteer, will suddenly become an advocate of the
+basic eight-hour working day which began just eight
+hours before, whenever there is a man's work to be
+done on one of the tires. He will watch you while
+you work, and always has a good word to say or a
+quip to snap at you to keep you cheered up, but
+when it comes to taking off his coat and lending a
+hand at the jack he is an Oriental incense-holder on
+the guest-room mantel. He admits in no uncertain
+tones, that he is a perfect dub when it comes to
+handling machinery and that he is more apt to be
+in the way at a time like this than not. And maybe
+he is right, after all.</p>
+
+<p>We next come to the class of tonneau-freight who
+are great believers in what Professor Muensterberg
+called "Auto-Suggestion." These people, although
+not seated in the driver's seat, have their own ideas
+on driving and spare no pains to put their theories
+in the form of suggestions. In justice to the Great
+Army of the Unemployed known as "guests" it
+must be admitted that a large percentage of these
+suggestions emanate from some member of the owner's
+family and not from outsiders. It is very often
+Mrs. Wife who is off-side in this play, but as she is
+usually in the tonneau, she comes under the same
+classification.</p>
+
+<p>There are various ways of framing suggestions to
+the driver from the back seat. They are all equally
+annoying. Among the best are:</p>
+
+<p>"For heaven's sake, George, turn in a little.
+There is a car behind that wants to pass us."</p>
+
+<p>"Look out where you're going, Stan."</p>
+
+<p>"Henry, if you don't slow down I'm going to get
+out and take the train back home."</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 409px;">
+<img src="images/img27_p158.jpg" width="409"
+alt="If this is accompanied with a clutching gesture at the driver's
+arm, it is sure to throw him into a good humor." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>If this is accompanied by a clutching gesture at
+the driver's arm it is sure to throw him into a good
+humor for the rest of the trip, so that a good time
+will be had by all present.</p>
+
+<p>Although guests are not so prone to make suggestions
+on the running of the car as are those who,
+through the safety of family connection, may do so
+without fear of bodily assault from the driver, nevertheless,
+a guest may, according to the code, lean
+over the back of the seat and slip little hints as to
+the route. Especially if one of them be entrusted
+with a Blue Book does this form of auto-suggestion
+become chronic.</p>
+
+<p>"It says here that we should have taken that road
+to the right back there by the Soldiers' Monument,"
+informs the reader over your shoulder. Or&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Somehow this doesn't seem like the right road.
+Personally, I think that we ought to turn around
+and go back to the cross-roads."</p>
+
+<p>If it is Mrs. Wife in the tonneau who has her own
+ideas on the route, you might as well give in at her
+first suggestion, for the risk that she is right is too
+great to run. If she says that she would advise taking
+the lane that runs around behind that school-house,
+take it. Then, if it turns out to be a blind
+alley, you have the satisfaction of saying nothing,
+very eloquently and effectively. But if you refuse
+to take her suggestion, and your road turns out to
+be even halfway wrong, you might as well turn the
+wheel over to your little son and go South for the
+winter, for you will never hear the ultimate cry of
+triumph. Your season will practically be ruined. I
+can quote verbatim from the last affair of this kind:</p>
+
+<p>(Voice from the tonneau): "Albert, I think we
+ought to have taken the road at the left."</p>
+
+<p>"No, we hadn't."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sure of it. I saw a sign which said: 'Paxton'
+on it."</p>
+
+<p>"No, you didn't."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you wait and see."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm waiting."</p>
+
+<p>There is a silence for ten minutes, while the car
+jounces along a road which gets narrower and
+rockier.</p>
+
+<p>(Voice from the tonneau): "I suppose you think
+this is the way to Paxton?"</p>
+
+<p>"I certainly <i>do</i>."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you make me sick!"</p>
+
+<p>Silence and jounces.</p>
+
+<p>Sudden stop as the road ends at a silo.</p>
+
+<p>"I beg your pardon [addressed to a rustic],
+which is the road to Paxton?"</p>
+
+<p>"Paxton?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"The road to Paxton?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you go back over the rud you just come
+over, about three mile, till you come to a rud turnin'
+off to the right with a sign which says 'Paxton.'"</p>
+
+<p>(Voice from the tonneau, beginning at this point
+and continuing all of the way back, all the rest of
+the day and night, and until snow falls): "<i>There!</i>
+what did I tell you? But, oh no, you know it all.
+Didn't I tell you"&mdash;etc., etc.</p>
+
+<p>On the whole, it would seem that the artists who
+draw the automobile advertisements make a mistake
+in drawing the tonneau so roomy and so full of people.
+There should be no tonneau.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="XVI" id="XVI"></a>XVI</h3>
+
+<h4>A ROMANCE IN ENCYCLOPÆDIA LAND</h4>
+
+<p class="cap_ctr"><i>Written After Three Hours' Browsing in a New Britannica Set</i></p>
+
+
+<p>Picture to yourself an early spring afternoon
+along the banks of the river Aa, which, rising
+in the Teutoburger Wald, joins the Werre at Herford
+and is navigable as far as St. Omer.</p>
+
+<p>Branching <i>bryophytu</i> spread their flat, dorsi-ventral
+bodies, closely applied to the sub-stratum on
+which they grew, and leafy carophyllaceæ twined
+their sepals in prodigal profusion, lending a touch of
+color to the scene. It was
+clear that nature was in
+preparation for her estivation.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 210px;">
+<img src="images/img28_p161.jpg" width="210"
+alt="Was playing softly to
+himself on a double curtail
+or converted bass-pommer." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>But it was not this
+which attracted the eye of
+the young man who, walking
+along the phonolithic
+formation of the river-bank,
+was playing softly to himself on a double curtail,
+or converted bass-pommer, an octave below the
+single curtail and therefore identical in pitch and
+construction with the early <i>fagotto</i> in C.</p>
+
+<p>His mind was on other things.</p>
+
+<p>He was evidently of Melanochronic extraction,
+with the pentagonal facial angle and strong obital
+ridges, but he combined with this the fine lines of a
+full-blooded native of Coll, where, indeed, he was
+born, seven miles west of Caliach Point, in Mull,
+and in full view of the rugged gneiss.</p>
+
+<p>As he swung along, there throbbed again and
+again through his brain the beautiful opening paragraph
+of Frantisek Palacky's (1798-1876) "<i>Zur
+böhmischen Geschichtschreibung</i>" (Prague, 1871),
+written just after the author had refused a portfolio
+in the Pillersdorf Cabinet and had also declined to
+take part in the preliminary diet at Kromerice.</p>
+
+<p>"If <i>he</i> could believe such things, why can not
+I?" murmured the young man, and crushed a
+ginkgo beneath his feet. Young men are often so.
+It is due to the elaterium of spring.</p>
+
+<p>"By Ereshkigal," he swore softly to himself, "I'll
+do it."</p>
+<div class="figright" style="width: 172px;">
+<img src="images/img29_p163.jpg" width="172"
+alt="He came suddenly out
+of the tangle of gymnosperms." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>No sooner had he spoken than he came suddenly
+out of the tangle of gymnosperms through whose
+leaves, needle-like and destitute of oil-glands as they
+were, he had been making his way, and emerged to a
+full view of the broad sweep of the Lake of Zug,
+just where the Lorze enters at its northern extremity
+and one and a quarter miles east of where it issues
+again to pursue its course toward the Reuss. Zug,
+at this point, is 1,368 feet above sea-level, and
+boasted its first steamer in 1852.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," he sighed, as he gazed upon the broad
+area of subsidence, "if I
+were now an exarch, whose
+dignity was, at one time, intermediate
+between the Patriarchal
+and the Metropolitan
+and from whose name
+has come that of the politico-religious
+party, the Exarchists,
+I should not be here
+day-dreaming. I should be
+far away in Footscray, a city
+of Bourke County, Victoria,
+Australia, pop. (1901) 18,301."</p>
+
+
+<p>And as he said this his eyes filled with tears, and
+under his skin, brown as fustic, there spread a faint
+flush, such as is often formed by citrocyde, or by
+pyrochloric acid when acting on uncured leather.</p>
+
+<p>Far down in the valley the natives were celebrating
+the birthday of Gambrinus, a mythical Flemish
+king who is credited with the first brewing of beer.
+The sound of their voices set in motion longitudinal
+sound waves, and these, traveling through the surrounding
+medium, met the surface separating two
+media and were in part reflected, traveling back
+from the surface into the first medium again with
+the velocity with which they approached it, as depicted
+in Fig. 10. This caused the echo for which
+the Lake of Zug is justly famous.</p>
+
+<p>The twilight began to deepen and from far above
+came the twinkling signals of, first, Böotes, then
+Coma Berenices, followed, awhile later, by Ursa
+Major and her little brother, Ursa Minor.</p>
+
+<p>"The stars are clear to-night," he sighed. "I
+wonder if they are visible from the dacite elevation
+on which SHE lives."</p>
+
+<p>His was an untrained mind. His only school had
+been the Eleatic School, the contention of which was
+that the true explanation of things lies in the conception
+of a universal unity of being, or the All-ness
+of One.</p>
+
+<p>But he knew what he liked.</p>
+
+<p>In the calm light of the stars he felt as if a uban
+had been lifted from his heart, 5 ubans being equal
+to 1 quat, 6 quats to 1 ammat and 120 ammats to
+1 sos.</p>
+
+<p>He was free again.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 188px;">
+<img src="images/img30_p165.jpg" width="188"
+alt="She turned like a frightened
+aardvark. \(Male,
+greatly reduced.\)" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Turning, he walked swiftly down into the valley,
+passing returning peasants with their baa-poots, and
+soon came in sight of the
+shining lamps of the small
+but carefully built pooroos
+which lined the road.</p>
+
+<p>Reaching the corner he
+saw the village epi peering
+over the tree-tops, and
+swarms of cicada, with the
+toothed famoras of their anterior
+legs mingling in a
+sleepy drone, like
+many cichlids. It was all
+very home-like to the wanderer.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly there appeared
+on a neighboring
+eminence a party of guisards,
+such as, during the
+Saturnalia, and from the
+Nativity till the Epiphany
+were accustomed to disport
+themselves in odd
+costumes; all clad in
+clouting, and evidently returning
+from taking part
+in the celebration.</p>
+
+
+
+<p>As they drew nearer,
+our hero noticed a young woman in the front rank
+who was playing folk-songs on a cromorne with a
+double-reed mouth-piece enclosed in an air-reservoir.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 196px;">
+<img src="images/img31_p165.jpg" width="196"
+alt="Barnaby Bernard Weenix. \(1777-1829.\)" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>In spite of the detritus
+wrought by the festival,
+there was something familiar
+about the buccinator
+of her face and her
+little mannerism of elevating
+her second phalanx.
+It struck him like the flash
+of a cloud highly charged
+by the coalescence of
+drops of vapor. He approached
+her, tenderly,
+reverently.</p>
+
+
+
+<p>"Lange, Anne Françoise Elizabeth," he said,
+"I know you. You are
+a French actress, born in
+Genoa on the seventeenth of September, 1772, and
+you made your first appearance on the stage in
+<i>L'Ecossaise</i> in 1788. Your talent and your beauty
+gave you an enormous success in <i>Pamela</i>. It has
+taken me years to find you, but now we are united
+at last."</p>
+
+
+<p>The girl turned like a frightened aardvark, still
+holding the cromorne in her hand. Then she smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"Weenix, Barnaby Bernard (1777-1829)," she
+said very slowly, "you started business as a publisher
+in London about 1797."</p>
+
+<p>They looked at each other for a moment in silence.
+He was the first to speak.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 207px;">
+<img src="images/img32_p166.jpg" width="207"
+alt="Why
+not to Wem? (From a contemporaneous print.)" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>"Miss Lange, Anne," he said, "let us go together
+to Lar&mdash;and be happy there&mdash;happy as two ais, or
+three-toed South American sloths."</p>
+
+<p>She lowered her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"I will go with you Mr. Weenix-Barney," she
+said, "to the ends of the earth. But why to Lar?
+Why not to Wem?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because," said the young man, "Lar is the capital
+of Laristan, in 27 degrees, 30 minutes N., 180
+miles from Shiraz, and contains an old bazaar consisting
+of four arcades each 180 feet long."</p>
+
+<p>Their eyes met, and she placed her hands in his.</p>
+
+<p>And, from the woods, came the mellow whinnying
+of a herd of vip, the wool of which is highly valued
+for weaving.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="XVII" id="XVII"></a>XVII</h3>
+
+<h4>THE PASSING OF THE ORTHODOX PARADOX</h4>
+
+
+<p>Whatever irreparable harm may have been
+done to Society by the recent epidemic of
+crook, sex and other dialect plays, one great alleviation
+has resulted. They have driven up-stage, for
+the time being, the characters who exist on tea and
+repartee in "The drawing-room of Sir Arthur
+Peaversham's town house, Grosvenor Square. Time:
+late Autumn."</p>
+
+<p>A person in a crook play may have talked underworld
+patois which no self-respecting criminal would
+have allowed himself to utter, but he did not sit on
+a divan and evolve abnormal <i>bons mots</i> with each
+and every breath. The misguided and misinformed
+daughter in the Self and Sex Play may have lisped
+words which only an interne should hear, but she
+did not offer a succession of brilliant but meaningless
+paradoxes as a substitute for real conversation.</p>
+
+<p>Continuously snappy back-talk is now encountered
+chiefly in such acts as those of "Cooney &amp;
+LeBlanc, the Eccentric Comedy Dancing Team."</p>
+
+<p>And even <i>they</i> manage to scrape along without the
+paradoxes.</p>
+
+<p>But there was a time, beginning with the Oscar
+Wilde era, when no unprotected thought was safe.</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 438px;">
+<img src="images/img33_p169.jpg" width="438"
+alt="Snappy back-talk is now encountered
+chiefly in such acts as 'Cooney &amp;
+LeBlanc, the Eccentric Comedy Dancing Team.'" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>It might be seized at any moment by an English
+Duke or a Lady Agatha and strangled to death.
+Even the butlers in the late 'eighties were wits, and
+served epigrams with cucumber sandwiches; and a
+person entering one of these drawing-rooms and
+talking in connected sentences&mdash;easily understood
+by everybody&mdash;each with one subject, predicate and
+meaning, would have been looked upon as a high
+class moron. One might as well have gone to a dinner
+at Lady Coventry's without one's collar, as without
+one's kit of trained paradoxes.</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 457px;">
+<img src="images/img34_p170.jpg" width="457"
+alt="The butlers served epigrams with the cucumber sandwiches." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>A late Autumn afternoon in one of these semi-Oscar
+Wilde plays, for instance, would run something
+like this:</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p>SCENE&mdash;<i>The Octagon Room in Lord Raymond
+Eaveston's Manor House in Stropshire.</i></p>
+
+<p class="center">LADY EAVESTON and SIR THOMAS WAFFLETON<br/>
+<i>are discovered, arranging red flowers in a vase</i>.</p>
+
+<p>SIR T.: I detest red flowers; they are so yellow.</p>
+
+<p>LADY E.: What a cynic you are, Sir Thomas. I
+really must not listen to you or I shall hear something
+that you say.</p>
+
+<p>SIR T.: Not at all, my dear Lady Eaveston. I
+detest people who listen closely; they are so inattentive.</p>
+
+<p>LADY E.: Pray do not be analytical, my dear Sir
+Thomas. When people are extremely analytical
+with me I am sure that they are superficial, and, to
+me, nothing is more abominable than superficiality,
+unless perhaps it is an intolerable degree of thoroughness.</p>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>Enter Meadows, the Butler</i>)</p>
+
+<p>MEADOWS (<i>announcing</i>): Sir Mortimer Longley
+and Mrs. Wrennington,&mdash;a most remarkable couple,&mdash;I
+may say in announcing them,&mdash;in that there is
+nothing at all remarkable about them.</p>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>Enter Sir Mortimer and Mrs. Wrennington</i>)</p>
+
+<p>MRS. W.: So sorry to be late, dear Lady Eaveston.
+But it is so easy to be on time that I always
+make it a point to be late. It lends poise, and poise
+is a charming quality for any woman to have, am I
+not right, Sir Thomas?</p>
+
+<p>SIR T.: You are always right, my dear Mrs.
+Wrennington, and never more so than now, for I
+know of no more attractive attribute than poise, unless
+perhaps it be embarrassment.</p>
+
+<p>LADY E.: What horrid cynics you men are!
+Really, Sir Thomas, one might think, from your
+sophisticated remarks that you had been brought
+up in the country and had seen nothing of life.</p>
+
+<p>SIR T.: And so I <i>have</i> been, my dear Lady Eaveston.
+To my mind, London is nothing but the country,
+and certainly Stropshire is nothing but a
+metropolis. The difference is, that when one is in
+town, one lives with others, and when one is in the
+country, others live with one. And both plans are
+abominable.</p>
+
+<p>MRS. W.: What a horrid combination! I hate
+horrid combinations; they always turn out to be so
+extremely pleasant.</p>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>Enter Meadows</i>)</p>
+
+<p>MEADOWS (<i>announcing</i>): Sir Roland Pinshamton;
+Viscount Lemingham; Countess Trotski and
+Mr. Peters. In announcing these parties I cannot
+refrain from remarking that it has always been my
+opinion that a man who intends to get married
+should either know something or nothing, preferably
+both.</p>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>Exit Meadows</i>)</p>
+
+<p>COUNTESS T.: So sorry to be late, my dear Lady
+Eaveston. It was charmingly tolerant of you to
+have us.</p>
+
+<p>LADY E.: Invitations are never tolerant, my dear
+Countess; acceptances always are. But do tell me,
+how is your husband, the Count,&mdash;or perhaps he is
+no longer your husband. One never knows these
+days whether a man is his wife's husband or whether
+she is simply his wife.</p>
+
+<p>COUNTESS T. (<i>lighting a cigarette</i>): Really, Lady
+Eaveston, you grow more and more interesting. I
+detest interesting people; they are so hopelessly uninteresting.
+It is like beautiful people&mdash;who are
+usually so singularly unbeautiful. Has not that been
+your experience, Sir Mortimer?</p>
+
+<p>SIR M.: May I have the pleasure of escorting you
+to the music-room, Mrs. Wrennington?</p>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>Exeunt omnes to music-room for dinner</i>)</p>
+
+<p class="center">Curtain.</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p>It is from this that we have, in a measure, been
+delivered by the court-room scenes, and all the
+medical dramas. But the paradox still remains intrenched
+in English writing behind Mr. G.K. Chesterton,
+and he may be considered, by literary tacticians,
+as considerable stronghold.</p>
+
+<p>Here again we find our commonplaces shaken up
+until they emerge in what looks like a new and tremendously
+imposing shape, and all of them ostensibly
+proving the opposite of what we have always
+understood. If we do not quite catch the precise
+meaning at first reading, we lay it to our imperfect
+perception and try to do better on the next one. It
+seldom occurs to us that it really may have no meaning
+at all and never was intended to have any, any
+more than the act of hanging by your feet from
+parallel bars has any further significance than that
+you can manage to do it.</p>
+
+<p>So, before retiring to the privacy of our personal
+couches, let us thank an all wise Providence, that
+the drama-paradox has passed away.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="XVIII" id="XVIII"></a>XVIII</h3>
+
+<h4>SHAKESPEARE EXPLAINED</h4>
+
+<p class="cap_ctr"><i>Carrying on the System of Footnotes to a Silly Extreme</i></p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p class="center">PERICLES</p>
+
+<p class="center">ACT II. SCENE 3</p>
+
+<p><i>Enter first Lady-in-Waiting</i> (<i>Flourish</i>,
+<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1"
+class="fnanchor">[1]</a> <i>Hautboys</i><a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a>
+<a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> <i>and</i><a name="FNanchor_3_3"
+id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a>
+<i>torches</i><a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4"
+class="fnanchor">[4]</a>).</p>
+
+<p><i>First Lady-in-Waiting</i>&mdash;<i>What</i><a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a>
+<a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> <i>ho!</i><a name="FNanchor_6_6"
+id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a>
+<i>Where</i><a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7"
+class="fnanchor">[7]</a> <i>is</i><a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a>
+<a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> <i>the</i><a name="FNanchor_9_9"
+id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a>
+<i>music?</i><a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10"
+class="fnanchor">[10]</a></p>
+
+
+<p class="center">NOTES</p>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> <i>Flourish</i>: The stage direction here is obscure. Clarke claims it
+should read "flarish," thus changing the meaning of the passage to
+"flarish" (that is, the King's), but most authorities have agreed that
+it should remain "flourish," supplying the predicate which is to be
+flourished. There was at this time a custom in the countryside of
+England to flourish a mop as a signal to the passing vender of
+berries, signifying that in that particular household there was a
+consumer-demand for berries, and this may have been meant in this
+instance. That Shakespeare was cognizant of this custom of flourishing
+the mop for berries is shown in a similar passage in the second part
+of King Henry IV, where he has the Third Page enter and say,
+"Flourish." Cf. also Hamlet, IV, 7:4.</p></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 330px;">
+<img src="images/img35_p176.jpg" width="330"
+alt="Might be one of the hautboys bearing a box
+of 'trognies' for the actors to suck." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> <i>Hautboys</i>, from the French <i>haut</i>, meaning "high" and the Eng.
+<i>boys</i>, meaning "boys." The word here is doubtless used in the sense
+of "high boys," indicating either that Shakespeare intended to convey
+the idea of spiritual distress on the part of the First
+Lady-in-Waiting or that he did not. Of this Rolfe says: "Here we have
+one of the chief indications of Shakespeare's knowledge of human
+nature, his remarkable insight into the petty foibles of this
+work-a-day world." Cf. T.N. 4:6, "Mine eye hath play'd the painter,
+and hath stell'd thy beauty's form in table of my heart."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> <i>and</i>. A favorite conjunctive of Shakespeare's in referring to the
+need for a more adequate navy for England. Tauchnitz claims that it
+should be pronounced "und," stressing the anti-penult. This
+interpretation, however, has found disfavor among most commentators
+because of its limited significance. We find the same conjunctive in
+A.W.T.E.W. 6:7, "Steel-boned, unyielding <i>and</i> uncomplying virtue,"
+and here there can be no doubt that Shakespeare meant that if the King
+should consent to the marriage of his daughter the excuse of Stephano,
+offered in Act 2, would carry no weight.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> <i>Torches</i>. The interpolation of some foolish player and never the
+work of Shakespeare (Warb.). The critics of the last century have
+disputed whether or not this has been misspelled in the original, and
+should read "trochies" or "troches." This might well be since the
+introduction of tobacco into England at this time had wrought havoc
+with the speaking voices of the players, and we might well imagine
+that at the entrance of the First Lady-in-Waiting there might be
+perhaps one of the hautboys mentioned in the preceding passage bearing
+a box of troches or "trognies" for the actors to suck. Of this
+entrance Clarke remarks: "The noble mixture of spirited firmness and
+womanly modesty, fine sense and true humility, clear sagacity and
+absence of conceit, passionate warmth and sensitive delicacy, generous
+love and self-diffidence with which Shakespeare has endowed this First
+Lady-in-Waiting renders her in our eyes one of the most admirable of
+his female characters." Cf. M.S.N.D. 8:9, "That solder'st close
+impossibilities and mak'st them kiss."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> <i>What</i>&mdash;What.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> <i>Ho!</i>. In conjunction with the preceding word doubtless means "What
+ho!" changed by Clarke to "What hoo!" In the original MS. it reads
+"What hi!" but this has been accredited to the tendency of the time to
+write "What hi" when "what ho" was meant. Techner alone maintains that
+it should read "What humpf!" Cf. Ham. 5:0, "High-ho!"</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> <i>Where</i>. The reading of the folio, retained by Johnson, the
+Cambridge editors and others, but it is not impossible that
+Shakespeare wrote "why," as Pope and others give it. This would make
+the passage read "Why the music?" instead of "Where is the music?"
+and would be a much more probable interpretation in view of the music
+of that time. Cf. George Ade. Fable No. 15, "Why the gunny-sack?"</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> <i>is</i>&mdash;is not. That is, would not be.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> <i>the</i>. Cf. Ham.4:6. M.S.N.D. 3:5. A.W.T.E.W. 2:6. T.N. 1:3 and
+Macbeth 3:1, "that knits up <i>the</i> raveled sleeves of care."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> <i>music</i>. Explained by Malone as "the art of making music" or
+"music that is made." If it has but one of these meanings we are
+inclined to think it is the first; and this seems to be favored by
+what precedes, "<i>the</i> music!" Cf. M. of V. 4:2, "The man that hath no
+music in himself."</p></div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="XIX" id="XIX"></a>XIX</h3>
+
+<h4>THE SCIENTIFIC SCENARIO</h4>
+
+
+<p>Sooner or later some one is going to come out
+and say that the movies are too low-brow. I
+can just see it coming. Maybe some one has said
+it already, without its having been brought to my
+attention, as I have been very busy for the past
+two weeks on my yearly accounts (my accounts for
+the year 1920, I mean. What with one thing and
+another, I am a bit behind in my budget system).</p>
+
+<p>And whenever this denouncement of the movies
+takes place, the first thing that is going to be specifically
+criticized is the type of story which is now
+utilized for scenarios. How can a nation hope to
+inject any culture in the minds of its people if it
+feeds them with moving-picture stories dealing with
+elemental emotions like love, hate, and a passion
+for evening-dress? Scenarios to-day have no cultural
+background. That's the trouble with them.
+They have no cultural background.</p>
+
+<p>Now, if we are to make the movies count for
+anything in the mental development of our people,
+we must build them of sterner stuff. We must make
+them from stories and books which are of the mind
+rather than of the body. The action should be
+cerebral, rather than physical, and instead of thrilling
+at the sight of two horsemen galloping along a
+cliff, we should be given the opportunity of seeing
+two opposing minds doing a rough-and-tumble on
+the edge of a nice problem in Dialectics or Metaphysics.</p>
+
+<p>I would suggest as a book, from which a pretty
+little scenario might be made, "The Education of
+Henry Adams." This volume has had a remarkable
+success during the past year among the highly educated
+classes. Public library records show that more
+people have lied about having read it than any
+other book in a decade. It contains five hundred
+pages of mental masochism, in which the author tortures
+himself for not getting anywhere in his brain
+processes. He just simply can't seem to get any
+further than the evolution of an elementary Dynamic
+Theory of History or a dilettante dabbling
+with a Law of Acceleration. And he came of a bright
+family, too.</p>
+
+<p>I don't go in much for scenario writing myself,
+but I am willing to help along the cause of better
+moving-pictures by offering herewith an outline for
+a six-reel feature entitled "THE EDUCATION
+OF HENRY ADAMS; or WHY MINDS GO
+WRONG."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="CAST_OF_CHARACTERS" id="CAST_OF_CHARACTERS"></a><i>CAST OF CHARACTERS</i></h3>
+
+<p><i>Henry Adams.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Left Frontal Brain Lobe.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Right Frontal Brain Lobe.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Manservant.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Crowd of Villagers, Reflexes, Complexes, and Mental Processes.</i></p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p>The first scene is, according to the decorated caption:
+"IN THE HARVARD COLLEGE STUDY OF HENRY
+ADAMS, SCION OF AN OLD NEW ENGLAND FAMILY,
+THE NIGHT BEFORE THE BIG CEREBRAL FUNCTION
+OF HIS YOUNG MANHOOD."</p>
+
+<p>Henry Adams, a Junior, is discovered sitting at his
+desk in his room in Holworthy Hall. He has a notebook
+on the Glacial Period and Palæontology open
+in front of him. He is thinking of his Education.
+(<i>Flash-back showing courses taken since Freshman
+year. Pianist plays "Carry Me Back to Old Virginie."</i>)
+He bites his under lip and turns a page of
+his notes.</p>
+
+<p>Caption: "DOES TRANSCENDENTALISM HOLD THE
+KEY?... I WONDER...."</p>
+
+<p>(<i>Fade-out showing him biting his upper lip, still
+thinking</i>.)</p>
+
+<p>The second scene is laid in Rome.</p>
+
+<p>Caption: "HERE, AFTER A YEAR'S WANDERING
+THROUGH THE HAPPY, SMILING LANDS OF EUROPE,
+COMES YOUNG HENRY ADAMS IN HIS SEARCH FOR
+EDUCATION. AND NOW, IN THE SHADOW OF ANCIENT
+ROME, HE FINDS PEACE, BUT NOT THAT
+PEACE FOR WHICH HE SOUGHT."</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 422px;">
+<img src="images/img36_p183.jpg" width="422"
+alt="Thrilling moment in 'The Education of Henry Adams.'" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>He is discovered sitting on a rock among the ruins
+of the Capitol, thinking. He tosses a pebble from
+one hand to another and scowls. The shadows
+deepen, and he rises, passing his hand across his
+brow. (<i>Flash-back showing the Latin verbs which
+govern the dative case. Pianist plays: "The March
+of the Jolly Grenadiers."</i>)</p>
+
+<p>He walks slowly to the <i>Museo Nazionale</i>, where
+he stands pondering before a statue of Venus, thinking
+about Roman art and history&mdash;and about his
+Education.</p>
+
+<p>Caption: "CAN ALL THIS BE FITTED INTO A
+TIME-SEQUENCE? CAN RIENZI, GARIBALDI. TIBERIUS
+GRACCHUS, AURELIAN, ANY OF THESE FAMOUS
+NAMES OF ROME, BE ADAPTED TO A SYSTEMATIC
+SCHEME OF EVOLUTION? NO, NO ... A
+THOUSAND TIMES, NO!"</p>
+
+<p>He sinks down on a rock and weeps bitterly.</p>
+
+<p>The next scene is in England and our hero is found
+sitting at a desk in his study in London. He is gazing
+into space&mdash;thinking.</p>
+
+<p>Caption: "AND SO, ALL THROUGH THE LONG,
+WEARY SUMMER, HENRY ADAMS SAT, HEAD IN
+HAND, WONDERING IF DARWIN WAS RIGHT. TO
+HIM THE GLACIAL EPOCH SEEMED LIKE A YAWNING
+CHASM BETWEEN A UNIFORMITARIAN WORLD
+AND HIMSELF. IF THE GLACIAL PERIOD WERE UNIFORMITY,
+WHAT WAS CATASTROPHE?... AND TO
+THIS QUESTION, THE COOL OF THE SUMMER'S
+EVENING IN SHROPSHIRE BROUGHT NO RELIEF."</p>
+
+<p>He rises slowly and goes to the book-shelves, from
+which he draws a copy of "The Origin of Species."
+Placing it before him on the desk he turns the pages
+slowly until he comes to one which holds his attention.</p>
+
+<p><i>Close-up of page 126, on which is read</i>: "It is
+notorious that specific characters are more variable
+than generic....</p>
+
+
+<table cellpadding="3">
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td><i>Feet</i></td></tr>
+<tr><td>Palæzoic strata (not including
+igneous beds)</td><td class="tdr">57,154&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Secondary strata</td><td class="tdr">13,190&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Tertiary strata</td><td class="tdr">2,400&quot;</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>The book drops to the floor from his nerveless
+fingers and he buries his head in his arms, sobbing.
+(Music: <i>"When You and I Were Young, Maggie."</i>)</p>
+
+<p>"TWENTY YEARS AFTER ... HENRY ADAMS IS
+NO LONGER YOUNG, BUT IN HIS HEART LIES STILL
+THE HUNGER FOR EDUCATION. GOING FORWARD,
+EVER FORWARD, HE REALIZES AS NEVER BEFORE
+THAT WITHOUT THOUGHT IN THE UNIT, THERE
+CAN BE NO UNITY. THOUGHT ALONE IS FORM.
+MIND AND UNITY FLOURISH OR PERISH TOGETHER."</p>
+
+<p>(<i>Allegorical flash-back showing Mind and Unity
+perishing together.</i>)</p>
+
+<p>The hero is now seen seated in a Morris chair in
+Washington, touching his finger-tips together in a
+ruminative manner. Arising slowly, he goes to the
+window and looks out over Lafayette Square. Then
+he lights a cigar and goes back to his chair. He
+is pondering and attempting to determine when, between
+3000 B.C. and 1000 A.D. the momentum of Europe
+was greatest, as exemplified in mathematics by
+such masters as Archimedes, Aristarchus, Ptolemy
+and Euclid.</p>
+
+<p>(<i>Flash-back showing the mathematical theories
+of Archimedes, Aristarchus, Ptolemy and Euclid.
+Music: "Old Ireland Shall Be Free."</i>)</p>
+
+<p>Rising from his chair again, he paces the floor,
+clenching his hands behind his back in mute fury.</p>
+
+<p>Caption: "GOD HAVE MERCY ON ME! I CAN
+SEE IT ALL&mdash;I HAVE NEVER BEEN EDUCATED!"</p>
+
+<p class="center">
+NEXT WEEK: BERT LYTELL IN<br />
+"SARTOR RESARTUS"<br />
+A SMASHING SIX-REEL FEATURE<br />
+BY TOM CARLYLE<br />
+</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="XX" id="XX"></a>XX</h3>
+
+<h4>THE MOST POPULAR BOOK OF THE MONTH</h4>
+
+<p>NEW YORK CITY (including all Boroughs) TELEPHONE
+DIRECTORY&mdash;N.Y. Telephone Co., N.Y. 1920. 8vo.
+1208 pp.</p>
+
+
+<p>In picking up this new edition of a popular favorite,
+the reviewer finds himself confronted by
+a nice problem in literary ethics. The reader must
+guess what it is.</p>
+
+<p>There may be said to be two classes of people in
+the world; those who constantly divide the people
+of the world into two classes, and those who do not.
+Both classes are extremely unpleasant to meet socially,
+leaving practically no one in the world whom
+one cares very much to know. This feeling is made
+poignant, to the point of becoming an obsession, by
+a careful reading of the present volume.</p>
+
+<p>We are herein presented to some five hundred
+thousand characters, each one deftly drawn in a
+line or two of agate type, each one standing out
+from the rest in bold relief. It is hard to tell which
+one is the most lovable. In one mood we should
+say <i>W.S. Custard</i> of Minnieford Ave. In another,
+more susceptible frame of mind, we should stand by
+the character who opens the book and who first introduces
+us into this Kingdom of Make-Believe&mdash;<i>Mr.
+V. Aagaard</i>, the old "Impt. &amp; Expt." How one
+seems to see him, impting and expting all the hot
+summer day through, year in and year out, always
+heading the list, but always modest and unassuming,
+always with a kindly word and a smile for
+passers-by on Broadway!</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 445px;">
+<img src="images/img37_p188.jpg" width="445"
+alt="The most popular book on earth." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>It is perhaps inaccurate to say that <i>V. Aagaard</i>
+introduces us to the book. He is the first flesh-and-blood
+human being with whom the reader comes
+in contact, but the initial place in the line should
+technically go to the A. &amp; A.A. Excelsior Co. Having
+given credit where credit is due, however, let
+us express our personal opinion that this name is a
+mere trick, designed to crowd out all other competitors
+in the field for the honor of being in the
+premiere position, for it must be obvious to any
+one with any perception at all that the name doesn't
+make sense. <i>No</i> firm could be named the A. &amp;
+A.A. Co., and the author of the telephone directory
+might better have saved his jokes until the body
+of the book. After all, Gelett Burgess does that sort
+of thing much better than any one else could hope
+to.</p>
+
+<p>But, beginning with <i>V. Aagaard</i> and continuing
+through to <i>Mrs. L. Zyfers</i> of Yettman Ave., the
+reader is constantly aware of the fact that here are
+real people, living in a real city, and that they
+represent a problem which must be faced.</p>
+
+<p>Sharp as we find the character etching in the
+book, the action, written and implied, is even more
+remarkable. Let us, for instance, take <i>Mr. Saml
+Dreyslinger</i>, whose business is "Furn Reprg," or
+<i>Peter Shalijian</i>, who does "pmphlt bindg." Into
+whose experience do these descriptions not fit? The
+author need only mention a man bindg pmphlts to
+bring back a flood of memories to each and every
+one of us&mdash;perhaps our old home town in New England
+where bindg pmphlts was almost a rite during
+the long winter months, as well as a social
+function of no mean proportions. It is the ability
+to suggest, to insinuate, these automatic memories
+on the part of the reader without the use of extra
+words that makes the author of this work so worthy
+of the name of craftsman in the literary annals of
+the day.</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps most deft of all is the little picture that
+is made of <i>Louise Winkler</i>, who is the village "sclp
+spclst." One does not have to know much medieval
+history to remember the position that the sclp spclst
+used to hold in the community during the Wars of
+the Roses. Or during Shay's Rebellion, for that matter.
+In those days, to be a sclp spclst was as important
+a post as that of "clb bdg stbls" (now done
+for New York City by Mr. Graham). People came
+from miles around to consult with the local sclp
+spclst on matters pertaining not only to sclps but
+to knt gds and wr whls, both of which departments
+of our daily life have now been delegated to separate
+agencies. Then gradually, with the growth of
+the trade guild movement, there came the Era of
+Specialization in Industry, and the high offices of
+the sclp spclst were dissipated among other trades,
+until only that coming strictly under the head of
+sclp speclzng remained. To this estate has <i>Miss
+Winkler</i> come, and in that part of the book which
+deals with her and her work, we have, as it were,
+a little epic on the mutability of human endeavor.
+It is all too short, however, and we are soon thereafter
+plunged into the dreary round of expting and
+impting, this time through a character called <i>J.
+Wubbe</i>, who is interesting only in so far as he is
+associated with <i>M. Wrubel</i> and <i>A.N. Wubbenhorst</i>,
+all of whom come together at the bottom of the
+column.</p>
+
+<p>The plot, in spite of whatever virtues may accrue
+to it from the acid delineation of the characters and
+the vivid action pictures, is the weakest part of
+the work. It lacks coherence. It lacks stability.</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps this is because of the nature of the book
+itself. Perhaps it is because the author knew too
+well his Dunsany. Or his Wells. Or his Bradstreet.
+But it is the opinion of the present reviewer that
+the weakness of plot is due to the great number
+of characters which clutter up the pages. The Russian
+school is responsible for this. We see here the
+logical result of a sedulous aping of those writers
+such as Tolstoi, Andreief, Turgenief, Dostoiefsky,
+or even Pushkin, whose <i>metier</i> it was to fill the pages
+of their books with an inordinate number of characters,
+many of whom the reader was to encounter
+but once, let us say, on the Nevsky Prospekt or in
+the Smolny Institute, but all of whom added their
+peculiar names (we believe that we will not offend
+when we refer to Russian names as "peculiar") to
+the general confusion of the whole.</p>
+
+<p>In practice, the book is not flawless. There are
+five hundred thousand names, each with a corresponding
+telephone number. But, through some
+error in editing, the numbers are all wrong. Proof
+of this may be had by the simple expedient of calling
+up any one of the subscribers, using the number
+assigned by the author to that name. (Any name
+will do&mdash;let us say <i>Nicholas Wimpie</i>-Haxlem 2131.)
+If the call is put in bright and early in the morning,
+the report will come over the wire just as the lights
+are going on for evening of the same day that "Harlem
+2131 does not answer." The other numbers
+are invariably equally unproductive of results. The
+conclusion is obvious.</p>
+
+<p>Aside from this point the book is a success.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="XXI" id="XXI"></a>XXI</h3>
+
+<h4>CHRISTMAS AFTERNOON</h4>
+
+<p class="cap_ctr"><i>Done in the Manner, if Not the Spirit, of Dickens</i></p>
+
+
+<p>What an afternoon! Mr. Gummidge said
+that, in his estimation, there never had <i>been</i>
+such an afternoon since the world began, a sentiment
+which was heartily endorsed by Mrs. Gummidge
+and all the little Gummidges, not to mention
+the relatives who had come over from Jersey for
+the day.</p>
+
+<p>In the first place, there was the <i>ennui</i>. And such
+<i>ennui</i> as it was! A heavy, overpowering <i>ennui</i>, such
+as results from a participation in eight courses of
+steaming, gravied food, topping off with salted nuts
+which the little old spinster Gummidge from Oak
+Hill said she never knew when to stop eating&mdash;and
+true enough she didn't&mdash;a dragging, devitalizing
+<i>ennui</i>, which left its victims strewn about the living-room
+in various attitudes of prostration suggestive
+of those of the petrified occupants in a newly unearthed
+Pompeiian dwelling; an <i>ennui</i> which carried
+with it a retinue of yawns, snarls and thinly
+veiled insults, and which ended in ruptures in the
+clan spirit serious enough to last throughout the
+glad new year.</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 444px;">
+<img src="images/img38_p194.jpg" width="444"
+alt="What an afternoon!" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Then there were the toys! Three and a quarter
+dozen toys to be divided among seven children.
+Surely enough, you or I might say, to satisfy the
+little tots. But that would be because we didn't
+know the tots. In came Baby Lester Gummidge,
+Lillian's boy, dragging an electric grain-elevator
+which happened to be the only toy in the entire
+collection which appealed to little Norman, five-year-old
+son of Luther, who lived in Rahway. In
+came curly-headed Effie in frantic and throaty disputation
+with Arthur, Jr., over the possession of an
+articulated zebra. In came Everett, bearing a mechanical
+negro which would no longer dance, owing
+to a previous forcible feeding by the baby of a
+marshmallow into its only available aperture. In
+came Fonlansbee, teeth buried in the hand of little
+Ormond, which bore a popular but battered remnant
+of what had once been the proud false-bosom of a
+hussar's uniform. In they all came, one after another,
+some crying, some snapping, some pulling,
+some pushing&mdash;all appealing to their respective parents
+for aid in their intra-mural warfare.</p>
+
+<p>And the cigar smoke! Mrs. Gummidge said that
+she didn't mind the smoke from a good cigarette,
+but would they mind if she opened the windows
+for just a minute in order to clear the room of
+the heavy aroma of used cigars? Mr. Gummidge
+stoutly maintained that they were good cigars. His
+brother, George Gummidge, said that he, likewise,
+would say that they were. At which colloquial sally
+both the Gummidge brothers laughed testily, thereby
+breaking the laughter record for the afternoon.</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Libbie, who lived with George, remarked
+from the dark corner of the room that it seemed
+just like Sunday to her. An amendment was offered
+to this statement by the cousin, who was in
+the insurance business, stating that it was worse
+than Sunday. Murmurings indicative of as hearty
+agreement with this sentiment as their lethargy
+would allow came from the other members of the
+family circle, causing Mr. Gummidge to suggest a
+walk in the air to settle their dinner.</p>
+
+<p>And then arose such a chorus of protestations as
+has seldom been heard. It was too cloudy to walk.
+It was too raw. It looked like snow. It looked
+like rain. Luther Gummidge said that he must be
+starting along home soon, anyway, bringing forth
+the acid query from Mrs. Gummidge as to whether
+or not he was bored. Lillian said that she felt a
+cold coming on, and added that something they had
+had for dinner must have been undercooked. And
+so it went, back and forth, forth and back, up and
+down, and in and out, until Mr. Gummidge's suggestion
+of a walk in the air was reduced to a tattered
+impossibility and the entire company glowed
+with ill-feeling.</p>
+
+<p>In the meantime, we must not forget the children.
+No one else could. Aunt Libbie said that
+she didn't think there was anything like children to
+make a Christmas; to which Uncle Ray, the one
+with the Masonic fob, said, "No, thank God!"
+Although Christmas is supposed to be the season
+of good cheer, you (or I, for that matter) couldn't
+have told, from listening to the little ones, but what
+it was the children's Armageddon season, when Nature
+had decreed that only the fittest should survive,
+in order that the race might be carried on by
+the strongest, the most predatory and those posessing
+the best protective coloring. Although there
+were constant admonitions to Fonlansbee to "Let
+Ormond have that whistle now; it's his," and to
+Arthur, Jr., not to be selfish, but to "give the kiddie-car
+to Effie; she's smaller than you are," the net
+result was always that Fonlansbee kept the whistle
+and Arthur, Jr., rode in permanent, albeit disputed,
+possession of the kiddie-car. Oh, that we mortals
+should set ourselves up against the inscrutable workings
+of Nature!</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 436px;">
+<img src="images/img39_p198.jpg" width="436"
+alt="Hallo! A great deal of commotion!" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Hallo! A great deal of commotion! That was
+Uncle George stumbling over the electric train,
+which had early in the afternoon ceased to function
+and which had been left directly across the
+threshold. A great deal of crying! That was Arthur,
+Jr., bewailing the destruction of his already
+useless train, about which he had forgotten until
+the present moment. A great deal of recrimination!
+That was Arthur, Sr., and George fixing it up. And
+finally a great crashing! That was Baby Lester
+pulling over the tree on top of himself, necessitating
+the bringing to bear of all of Uncle Ray's
+knowledge of forestry to extricate him from the
+wreckage.</p>
+
+<p>And finally Mrs. Gummidge passed the Christmas
+candy around. Mr. Gummidge afterward admitted
+that this was a tactical error on the part of
+his spouse. I no more believe that Mrs. Gummidge
+thought they wanted that Christmas candy
+than I believe that she thought they wanted the
+cold turkey which she later suggested. My opinion
+is that she wanted to drive them home. At any
+rate, that is what she succeeded in doing. Such
+cries as there were of "Ugh! Don't let me see another
+thing to eat!" and "Take it away!" Then
+came hurried scramblings in the coat-closet for over-shoes.
+There were the rasping sounds made by
+cross parents when putting wraps on children.
+There were insincere exhortations to "come and see
+us soon" and to "get together for lunch some time."
+And, finally, there were slammings of doors and
+the silence of utter exhaustion, while Mrs. Gummidge
+went about picking up stray sheets of wrapping
+paper.</p>
+
+<p>And, as Tiny Tim might say in speaking of
+Christmas afternoon as an institution, "God help
+us, every one."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="XXII" id="XXII"></a>XXII</h3>
+
+<h4>HAIL, VERNAL EQUINOX!</h4>
+
+
+<p>If all that I hear is true, a great deal has been
+written, first and last, about that season which
+we slangily call "Spring"; but I don't remember
+ever having seen it done in really first-class form;&mdash;that
+is, in such a way that it left something with you
+to think over, something that you could put your
+finger on and say, "There, <i>there</i> is a Big, Vital
+Thought that I can carry away with me to my
+room."</p>
+
+<p>What Spring really needs is a regular press-agent
+sort of write-up, something with the Punch in it,
+an article that will make people sit up and say to
+themselves, "By George, there must be something
+in this Spring stuff, after all."</p>
+
+<p>What sort of popularity did Education have until
+correspondence schools and encyclopedias began to
+give publicity to it in their advertisements? Where
+would Music be to-day if it were not for the exhortations
+of the talking-machine and mechanical-piano
+companies telling, through their advertising-copy
+writers, of the spiritual exaltation that comes
+from a love of music? These things were all right
+in their way before the press-agent took hold of
+them, but they never could have hoped to reach
+their present position without him.</p>
+
+<p>Of course, all this has just been leading up to
+the point I want to make,&mdash;that something more
+ought to be written about Spring. When you consider
+that every one, including myself, agrees that
+<i>nothing</i> more should be written about it, I think
+that I have done rather well to prove as much as
+I have so far. And, having got this deep into the
+thing, I can't very well draw back now.</p>
+
+<p>Well then, Spring is a great season. Nobody will
+gainsay me that. Without it, we should crash right
+from Winter into Summer with no chance to shift
+to light-weight underwear. I could write a whole
+piece about that phase of it alone, and, if I were
+pressed for things to say, I myself could enlarge
+on it now, making up imaginary conversation of
+people who have been caught in balbriggans by the
+first sweltering day of summer. But I have so many
+more things to say about Spring that I can't stop
+to bother with deadwood like that. Such literary
+fillerbusting should be left to those who are not so
+full of their subject as I am.</p>
+
+<p>In preparing for this article, I thought it best
+to look up a little on the technical side of Spring,
+about which so little is known, at least by me. And,
+would you believe it, the Encyclopedia Britannica,
+which claims in its advertisements not only to make
+its readers presidents of the Boards of Directors of
+any companies they may select, but also shows how
+easy it would be for Grandpa or Little Edna to carry
+the whole set about from room to room, if, by any
+possible chance they should ever want to, this same
+Encyclopedia Britannica makes no reference to
+Spring, except incidentally, along with Bed Springs
+and Bubbling Springs.</p>
+
+<p>This slight of one of our most popular seasons is
+probably due to the fact that Spring is not exclusively
+a British product and was not invented
+by a Briton. Had Spring been fortunate enough to
+have had the Second Earl of Stropshire-Stropshire-Stropshire
+as one of its founders, the Britannica
+could probably have seen its way clear to give it a
+five-page article, signed by the Curator of the Jade
+Department in the British Museum, and illustrated
+with colored plates, showing the effect of Spring
+on the vertical and transverse sections of the stamen
+of the South African Euphorbiceæ.</p>
+
+<p>I was what you might, but probably wouldn't,
+call stunned at not finding anything about the Season
+of Love in the encyclopedia, for without that
+assistance what sort of a scientific article could
+I do on the subject? I am not good at improvising
+as I go along, especially in astronomical matters.
+But we Americans are not so easily thwarted. Quick
+as a wink I looked up "Equinox."</p>
+
+<p>There is a renewed agitation of late to abolish
+Latin from our curricula. Had I not known my
+Latin I never could have figured out what "equinox"
+meant, and this article would never have
+been written. Take that, Mr. Flexner!</p>
+
+<p>While finding "equinox," however, I came across
+the word "equilibrium," which is the word before
+you come to "equinox," and I became quite absorbed
+in what it had to say on the matter. There were a
+great many things stated there that I had never
+dreamed before, even in my wildest vagaries on the
+subject of equilibrium. For instance, did you know
+that if you cover the head of a bird, "as in hooding
+a falcon" (do you remember the good old days
+when you used to run away from school to hood falcons?)
+the bird is deprived of the power of voluntary
+movement? Just think of that, deprived of
+the power of voluntary movement simply because its
+head is covered!</p>
+
+<p>And, as if this were not enough, it says that the
+same thing holds true of a fish! If you should ever,
+on account of a personal grudge, want to get the better
+of a fish, just sneak up to him on some pretext
+or other and suddenly cover its eyes with a cloth,
+and there you have it, helpless and unable to move.
+You may then insult it, and it can do nothing but
+tremble with rage.</p>
+
+<p>It is little practical things like this that you pick
+up in reading a good reference book, things that you
+would never get in ten years at college.</p>
+
+<p>For instance, take the word "equites," which follows
+"equinox" in the encyclopedia. What do you
+know about equites, Mr. Businessman? Of course,
+you remember in a vague way that they were Roman
+horsemen or something, but, in the broader
+sense of the word, could you have told that the term
+"equites" came, in the time of Gaius Gracchus, to
+mean any one who had four hundred thousand
+sesterces? No, I thought not. And yet that is a
+point which is apt to come up any day at the office.
+A customer from St. Paul might come in and, of
+course, you would take him out to lunch, hoping to
+land a big order. Where would you be if his hobby
+should happen to be "equites "? And if he should
+come out in the middle of the conversation with
+"By the way, do you remember how many sesterces
+it was necessary to have during the administration
+of Gaius Gracchus in order to belong to the
+Equites?" if you could snap right back at him
+with "Four hundred thousand, I believe," the order
+would be assured. And if, in addition, you could
+volunteer the information that an excellent account
+of the family life of the Equites could be found
+in Mommsen's "<i>Römisches Staatsrecht</i>," Vol. 3,
+your customer would probably not only sign up for
+a ten-year contract, but would insist on paying for
+the lunch.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 422px;">
+<img src="images/img40_p205.jpg" width="422"
+alt="If you could snap right back at him with 'Four hundred
+thousand, I believe,' the order would be assured." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>But, of course, this has practically nothing to do
+with Spring, or, as the boys call it, the "vernal
+equinox." The vernal equinox is a serious matter.
+In fact, I think I may say without violating any
+confidence, that it is the initial point from which the
+right ascensions and the longitudes of the heavenly
+bodies are measured. This statement will probably
+bring down a storm of ridicule on my head, but
+look at how Fulton was ridiculed.</p>
+
+<p>In fact, I might go even further and say that the
+way to seek out Spring is not to trail along with the
+poets and essayists into the woods and fields and
+stand about in the mud until a half-clothed bird
+comes out and peeps. If you really want to be in
+on the official advent of Spring, you may sit in a
+nice warm observatory and, entirely free from head-colds,
+proceed with the following simple course:</p>
+
+<p>Take first the conception of a fictitious point
+which we shall call, for fun, the Mean Equinox.
+This Mean Equinox moves at a nearly uniform rate,
+slowly varying from century to century.</p>
+
+<p>Now here comes the trick of the thing. The Mean
+Equinox is merely a decoy, and, once you have
+determined it, you shift suddenly to the True
+Equinox which you can tell, according to Professor
+A.M. Clerk's treatise on the subject, because it
+moves around the Mean Equinox in a period equal
+to that of the moon's nodes. Now all you have to
+do is to find out what the moon's nodes are (isn't
+it funny that you can be as familiar with an object
+as you are with the moon and see it almost
+every night, and yet never know that it has even one
+node, not to mention nodes?) and then find out how
+fast they move. This done and you have discovered
+the Vernal Equinox, or Spring, and without
+spilling a dactyl.</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 276px;">
+<img src="images/img41_p207.jpg" width="276"
+alt="On the subject of spring's
+arrival intuition may be led astray." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>How much simpler this is than the old, romantic
+way of determining when Spring had come! A poet
+has to depend on his intuition for information, and,
+on the subject of Spring's arrival, intuition may be
+led astray by any number of things. You may be
+sitting over one of those radiators which are concealed
+under window-seats, for instance, and before
+you are aware of it feel what you take to be the first
+flush of Spring creeping over you. It would be obviously
+premature to go out and write a poem on
+Youth and Love and Young Onions on the strength
+of that.</p>
+
+<p>I once heard of a young man who in November
+discovered that he had an intellectual attachment
+for a certain young woman and felt that married
+life with her would be without doubt a success. But
+he could never work himself up into sufficient emotional
+enthusiasm to present the proposition to her
+in phrases that he knew she had been accustomed to
+receive from other suitors. He knew that she
+wouldn't respond to a proposal of marriage couched
+in terms of a real estate transaction. Yet such were
+the only ones that he felt himself capable of at
+the moment under the prevailing weather conditions.
+So, knowing something of biology, he packed his little
+bag and rented an alcove in a nearby green-house,
+where he basked in the intensified sun-warmth and
+odor of young tube roses, until with a cry, he
+smashed the glass which separated him from his
+heart's desire and tore around the corner to her
+house, dashing in the back door and flinging himself
+at her feet as she was whipping some cream,
+and there poured forth such a torrent of ardent sentiments
+that there was really nothing that the poor
+girl could do but marry him that afternoon.</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 276px;">
+<img src="images/img42_p209.jpg" width="276"
+alt="Spring." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>In fact, if you want to speak astronomically
+(some people do), you may define Spring even more
+definitely. Since we are all here together, and good
+friends, let us take the center of the earth as origin,
+and, once we have done this, the most natural fundamental
+axis is, obviously, the earth's rotation. The
+fundamental plane perpendicular to it is the plane
+of the equator. That goes without saying.</p>
+
+<p>Now, here we go! Coördinates referred to in this
+system are termed equatorial, and I think that you
+will agree with me that nothing could be fairer than
+that. Very well, then. Since this is so, we may
+define Spring by the following geometric representation
+in which the angle ZOP, made by the radius
+vector with the fundamental plane, shows a springlike
+tendency.</p>
+
+<p>This drawing we may truthfully entitle "Spring,"
+and while it hasn't perhaps the color found in Botticelli's
+painting of the same name, yet it just as
+truthfully represents Spring in these parts as do
+the unstable sort of ladies in the more famous picture.</p>
+
+<p>I only wish that I had more space in which to
+tell what my heart is full of in connection with this
+subject. I really have only just begun.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="TABLOID_EDITIONS" id="TABLOID_EDITIONS"></a>TABLOID EDITIONS</h3>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_AMERICAN_MAGAZINE" id="THE_AMERICAN_MAGAZINE"></a>THE AMERICAN MAGAZINE</h3>
+
+<h4>What I Have Made Myself Learn About You</h4>
+
+<p class="center">
+Being An Account of How One Business Man Made the <br />
+Little Things Count. Do You?
+</p>
+
+
+<p>My business (rubber goods) was in a bad way.
+Somehow I couldn't seem to make it return
+enough to pay my income tax with. My wife and I
+were frankly upset.</p>
+
+<p>At last one morning she came to me and said:
+"Fred, the baby will soon be seven months old and
+will have to have some sort of vocational training.
+What are we to do?"</p>
+
+<p>That night was the bluest night I have ever spent.
+I thought that the end had come. Then, suddenly,
+the thought struck me: "Why not try character-selling?"</p>
+
+<p>This may sound foolish to you. That is because it
+is foolish. But it did the trick.</p>
+
+<p>I began to sell my personality. Every man that
+came into my store I took aside and showed him
+different moods. First, I would tell him a funny
+story, to prove to him that I was more than a mere
+business automaton. Then I would relate a pathetic
+incident I had seen on the street a week or two ago.
+This disclosed my heart. Then I did a fragment of
+a bare-foot dance and sketched a caricature of Lloyd
+George, to let him see that I was a man of the world.
+After this, I was ready to sell him what he came in
+for, and he would go away carrying a very definite
+impression of my personal characteristics&mdash;and some
+of my goods, in a bundle.</p>
+
+<p>A week of selling rubber-goods in this manner, and
+I was on the vaudeville stage, earning $250 a week.
+How much do <i>you</i> earn?</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p class="cap_ctr">Interesting People</p>
+
+<p class="center">A Man Who Made Good With Newts</p>
+
+
+<p>Some day, if you ever happen to be in Little
+Falls, turn to your right and you will see a prosperous-looking
+establishment run by Ira S. Whip,
+known throughout Little Falls as the newt king.
+Starting in with practically nothing but two congenial
+newts, Mr. Whip has, in the past ten years,
+raised no less than 4,000 of these little lizard-like
+animals, all of which had to be thrown away, as
+there is practically no market for pet newts except
+for incidental rôles in gold-fish tanks. But Mr.
+Whip did what he set out to do, and that counts for
+a lot in this life. Can you say as much?</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p class="cap_ctr">The Man Who Made Good</p>
+
+<p class="center">The story of a man who made good</p>
+
+
+<p>Lorrie Wetmore sat disconsolately in the
+fountain in Madison Square Park. He was
+lonely. He was a failure.... Yes, he was. Don't
+contradict me. He was a terrible failure. And, as
+I said before, early in this story, he was lonely.</p>
+
+<p>"I have fallen down on the job," he murmured to
+Admiral Farragut's statue. "I have not made good."</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly a kind hand rested on his shoulder. He
+turned to face the pansy-trainer, who keeps the
+flower-beds in the Park in touch with the seasons.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't give in, my boy," said the old man. "Remember
+the words of Henley, who instituted the
+famous Henley Regatta and so made a name for
+himself: 'I am the master of my Fate. I am the
+Captain of my Soul.'"</p>
+
+<p>"By George," murmured Lorrie to the statue of
+Salmon P. Chase, "I <i>can</i> make good, and I <i>will</i> make
+good!"</p>
+
+<p>And, with these words, he climbed out of the
+fountain and made his way resolutely across the
+square to the great store of Marshall Field and
+Co. (Advt.)</p>
+
+<p>In seven weeks he was a member of the firm.</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p class="cap_ctr">Are You Between the Ages of 7 and 94?</p>
+
+<p class="center">
+If so, what this eminent growth specialist says here applies<br />
+directly to you and to your family<br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>Every man, woman and child between the ages
+of 7 and 94 is going through a process of
+growth or metamorphosis, whether they know it or
+not. Are you making the most of this opportunity
+which is coming to you (if your age falls within the
+magic circle given above) every day of your life?
+Do you realize that, during this crucial period, you
+have it in your power to make what you will of yourself,
+provided only that you know how to go about
+it and make no false steps?</p>
+
+<p>As you grow from day to day, either mentally,
+morally, or physically, you can say to yourself, on
+awakening in the morning:</p>
+
+<p>"To-day I will develop. I will grow bigger, either
+mentally, morally or physically. Maybe, if it is a
+nice, warm day, I will grow in all three ways at
+once."</p>
+
+<p>And, sure enough, when evening finds you returning
+home from the work of the day, it will also find
+you in some way changed from the person you were
+in the morning, either through the shedding of the
+dry epidermis from the backs of your hands (which,
+according to one of Nature's most wonderful processes,
+is replaced by new epidermis as soon as the
+old is gone), or through the addition of a fraction
+of an inch to your height or girth, or through some
+other of the inscrutable alchemies of Nature.</p>
+
+<p>Think this over as you go to work, to-day, and
+see if it doesn't tell <i>you</i> something about <i>your</i>
+problem.</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p class="cap_ctr">How I Put Myself on the Map</p>
+
+<p>It was seven o'clock at night when I first struck
+New York. I had come from a Middle Western
+town to make my fortune as a writer, and I was
+already discouraged. I knew no one in the Big City,
+and had been counting on my membership in the
+National Geographic Society to find me friends
+among my fellow-members in town. But I soon discovered
+that the fraternity spirit in the East was
+much less cordial than in my home district, and I
+realized, too late, that I was all alone.</p>
+
+<p>With a few coins that my father had slipped into
+my hand as I left home, I engaged a tiny suite at
+the St. Regis and there set about my writing.</p>
+
+<p>The first 10,000 manuscripts which I sent out, I
+now have. (I am at present working them over into
+a serial for the <i>Saturday Evening Post</i> weekly, from
+which I expect to make $25,000). But that is beside
+the point. For the purposes of the present narrative,
+I was a failure. The manager of the hotel was
+pressing me for my rent, which was already several
+hours overdue. I had not tipped the chamber-maid
+since breakfast. I sat looking out at my window,
+staring at the squalid wall of the Hotel Ritz. I had
+met New York face to face&mdash;and I had lost.</p>
+
+<p>No, not lost! There was still one chance left
+I sat down and, with feverish haste, wrote out a
+glowing account of my failure. I spared no detail
+of my degradation, even to taking fruit from the
+hotel table to my room.</p>
+
+<p>Then I began to fabricate. I told how I had
+overcome all these handicaps and had made a success
+of myself. I lied. I said that I was now drawing
+down $200,000 a year, but that I had never forgotten
+my old friends. It was a good yarn, but it
+took me a long while to make it up. And when, at
+last, it was ready, I sent it to the <i>American Magazine</i>.</p>
+
+<p>This is it!</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p class="cap_ctr">How Insane Are You?</p>
+
+<p>Following is a test used in all State Hospitals
+to determine the fitness of the inmates for occasional
+shore leave. Try it on yourself and see where
+you get off.</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p class="center">TEST NO. 1</p>
+
+<p>If you really are the reincarnation of Learning,
+write something here ... but if you are being
+hounded by a lot of relatives whom you dislike, ring
+and walk in. Then, granting all this, how does it
+come about that you, a member of the Interstate
+Commerce Commission, wear no collar?... Ha,
+ha, we caught you there! But otherwise, write any
+letter beginning with <i>w</i> in this space. Yes, there is
+the space,&mdash;what's the matter with you? Go back
+and look again.... You win. Now, in spite of
+what the neighbors say, give three reasons for not
+giving three reasons why this proves that you are
+sane, or, as the case may be.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="HARPERS_MAGAZINE" id="HARPERS_MAGAZINE"></a>HARPER'S MAGAZINE</h3>
+
+
+<p class="cap_ctr">Through the Dobrudja with Gun and Camera</p>
+
+<p>There was a heavy mist falling as we left
+Ilanlâc, rendering the <i>cozbars</i> (native <i>doblacs</i>)
+doubly indistinguishable. This was unfortunate, as
+we had planned on taking many photographs, some
+of which are reproduced here.</p>
+
+<p>Our party consisted of seven members of the Society:
+Molwinch, young Houghbotham, Capt.
+Ramp, and myself, together with fourteen native
+<i>barbudos</i> (<i>luksni</i> who are under the draft age), a
+boat's crew, two helpers, and some potted tongue.
+Lieut. Furbearing, the Society's press-agent, had
+sailed earlier in the week, and was to join us at
+Curtea de Argesh.</p>
+
+<p>Before us, as we progressed, lay the Tecuci, shimmering
+in the reflected light of the <i>sun</i> (sun). They
+were named by their discoverer, Joao Galatz, after
+his uncle, whose name was Wurgle, or, as he was
+known among the natives, "Wurgle." From that
+time (1808) until 1898, no automobile was ever seen
+on one of the Tecuci, although many of the inhabitants
+subsisted entirely on what we call "cottage-cheese."</p>
+
+<p>The weevils of this district (<i>Curculionidæ</i>)
+remarkable for their lack of poise. We saw several
+of them, just at sundown, when, according to an old
+native legend, the weevil comes out to defy the God
+of <i>Acor</i>, his ancient enemy, and never, not even in
+Castanheira, have I seen weevils more embarrassed
+than those upon whom we came suddenly at a bend
+in the Selch River.</p>
+
+<p>Early morning found us filing up the Buzeau Valley,
+with the gun-bearers and bus-boys in single-file
+behind us, and a picturesque lot they were, too, with
+their lisle socks and queer patch-pockets. In taking
+a picture of them, I walked backward into the
+Buzeau River, which delayed the party, as I had,
+in my bag, the key with which the potted tongue
+cans were to be opened.</p>
+
+<p>We were fortunate enough to catch several male
+puffins, which were so ingenuous as to eat the carpet-tacks
+we offered them. The puffin (<i>Thalassidroma
+buleverii</i>), is easily distinguishable from the more
+effete robin of America because the two birds are
+similar in no essential points. This makes it convenient
+for the naturalist, who might otherwise get them
+mixed. Puffins are hunted principally for their companionable
+qualities, a domesticated puffin being
+held the equal&mdash;if not quite&mdash;of the average
+Dobrudjan housewife in many respects, such as, for
+instance, self-respect.</p>
+
+<p>It was late in the afternoon of the third day, when
+we finally reached Dimbovitza, and the cool <i>llemla</i>
+was indeed refreshing. It had been, we one and all
+agreed, a most interesting trip, and we vowed that
+we should not forget our Three Days in the
+Dobrudja.</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p class="cap_ctr">Dead Leaves</p>
+
+<p>"Ain't you got them dishes done up yet,
+Irma?"</p>
+
+<p>A petulant voice from what, in Central New England,
+is called the "sittin' room," penetrated the cool
+silence of the farm-house kitchen. Irma Hathaway
+passed her hand heavily before her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Ma," she replied wearily, as she threw a
+cup at the steel engraving of "The Return of the
+Mayflower" which hung on the kitchen wall. She
+wondered when she would die.</p>
+
+<p>A cold wind blew along the corridor which connected
+the kitchen with the wood-shed. Then, as if
+disgruntled, it blew back again, like a man returning
+to his room after a fresh handkerchief. Irma
+shuddered. It was all so inexplicably depressing.</p>
+
+<p>For eighteen years the sun had never been able
+to shine in Bemis Corners. God knows it had tried.
+But there had always been something imponderable,
+something monstrously bleak, which had thrown
+itself, like a great cloak, between the warm light of
+that body and the grim reality of Bemis Corners.</p>
+
+<p>"If Eben had only known," thought Irma, and
+buried her face in the soapy water.</p>
+
+<p>Some one entered the room from the wood-shed,
+stamping the snow from his boots. She knew, without
+looking up, that it was Ira.</p>
+
+<p>"Why hev you come?" she said softly, lifting her
+moist eyes to him. It was not Ira. It was the hired
+man. She sobbed pitifully and leaped upon the
+roller-towel which hung on the door, pulling it round
+and round like a captive squirrel in a revolving cage.</p>
+
+<p>"It ain't no use," she moaned.</p>
+
+<p>And, through the cadavers of the apple-trees in
+the orchard behind the house, there rattled a wind
+from the sea, the sea to which men go down in
+ships never to return, telling of sorrow and all that
+sort of thing.</p>
+
+<p>"Fate," some people call it.</p>
+
+<p>To Irma Hathaway it was all the same.</p>
+
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p class="cap_ctr">June, July, August</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Tulips, crocuses and chard,</i></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>And the wax bean</i></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>In the back yard.</i></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>And the open road to the land of dreams,</i></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>With the heavy swirl</i></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Of the singing streams.</i></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Oh! boy!</i></span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p class="cap_ctr">Unpublished Letters of Mark Twain</p>
+
+<p class="center"><i>With a foreword by Albert Bigelow Paine</i><a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></p>
+
+<p class="center">FOREWORD</p>
+
+
+<p>This letter from Mark Twain to Mr. Horace J.
+Borrow of Hartford has recently been called
+to my attention by a niece of Mr. Borrow's who now
+lives in Glastonbury. I have no reason to believe
+that the lady is a charlatan, in fact, I have often
+heard Mark Twain speak of Mr. Borrow in the
+highest terms.</p>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">[1]</span></a>
+The complete works of Mark Twain, with complete forewords by
+Mr. Paine are, oddly enough, published by Harper and Bros. who,
+oddly enough, also publish this magazine. We celebrate this coincidence
+by offering the complete set to our readers on easy and friendly
+terms.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>
+<i>Mr. Horace J. Borrow</i><br />
+<i>Hartford, Connecticut</i><br />
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p>Dear Mr. Borrow: Enclosed find check for ten
+dollars ($10) in payment of my annual dues for the
+year 1891-2.</p>
+
+<p>
+Yours truly,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">(Signed) S.L. CLEMENS.</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p class="cap_ctr">Highways and By-Ways in Old Fall River</p>
+
+<p>The chance visitor to Fall River may be said,
+like the old fisherman in "Bartholomew Fair,"
+to have "seen half the world, without tasting its
+savor." Wandering down the Main Street, with its
+clanging trolley-cars and noisy drays, one wonders
+(as, indeed, one may well wonder), if all this is a
+manifestation so much of Fall River as it is of that
+for which Fall River stands.</p>
+
+<p>Frankly, I do not know.</p>
+
+<p>But there is something in the air, something ineffable
+in the swirl of the smoke from the towering
+stacks, which sings, to the rhythm of the clashing
+shuttles and humming looms, of a day when old
+gentlemen in belted raglans and cloth-topped boots
+strolled through these streets, bearing with them the
+legend of mutability. Perhaps "mutability" is too
+strong a word. Fall Riverians would think so.</p>
+
+<p>And the old Fall River Line! What memories
+does that name not awaken in the minds of globe-trotters?
+Or, rather, what memories <i>does</i> it awaken?
+William Lloyd Garrison is said to have remarked
+upon one occasion to Benjamin Butler that one of the
+most grateful features of Fall River was the night-boat
+for New York. To which Butler is reported to
+have replied: "But, my dear Lloyd, there is no
+night-boat to New York, and there won't be until
+along about 1875 or even later. So your funny
+crack, in its essential detail, falls flat."</p>
+
+<p>But, regardless of all this, the fact remains that
+Fall River is Fall River, and that it is within easy
+motoring distance of Newport, which offers our art
+department countless opportunities for charming
+illustrations.</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p class="cap_ctr">The Editor's Drawer</p>
+
+<p>Little Bobby, aged five, saying his prayers,
+had come to that most critical of diplomatic
+crises: the naming of relatives to be blessed.</p>
+
+<p>"Why don't I ask God to bless Aunt Mabel?" he
+queried, looking up with a roguish twinkle in his blue
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"But you do, Bobby," answered his mother.</p>
+
+<p>"So I do," was his prompt reply.</p>
+<p><br /></p>
+<p>Little Willy, aged seven, was asked by his
+teacher to define the word "confuse."
+"'Confuse' is what my daddy says when he looks
+at his watch," said Willy. The teacher never asked
+that question again. At least, not of Willy.</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p>Little Gertrude, aged three, was saying her
+prayers. "Is God everywhere?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, dear, everywhere," answered her mother.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Everywhere?</i>" she persisted.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, dear, <i>everywhere,</i>" repeated her mother, all
+unsuspecting.</p>
+
+<p>"Then He must be like Uncle Ned," said the
+little tot.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Gertrude, what makes you say that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because I heard Daddy say that Uncle Ned was
+everywhere," was the astounding reply.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_SATURDAY_EVENING_POST" id="THE_SATURDAY_EVENING_POST"></a>THE SATURDAY EVENING POST</h3>
+
+
+<p class="cap_ctr">THE LAST MATCH</p>
+
+<p class="center">By Roy Comfort Ashurst</p>
+
+<p>Slowly the girl in the green hat approached the
+swinging door of the hotel.</p>
+
+<p>She was thinking.</p>
+
+<p>A man more versed in the ways of womankind
+than Ned Pillsbury might, perhaps, have perceived
+that she was also glancing surreptitiously upwards
+through the dark fringe of lashes which veiled her
+brown gypsy eyes, but Ned was not a trained observer
+in such matters. To him, as he sat in the
+large, roomy leather chair in the lobby, the only
+reaction was</p>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>Continued on page 49</i>)</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p class="cap_ctr">ARE YOU SURE OF YOUR CRANK-SHAFT?</p>
+
+<p>The answer to this question is the answer to the
+peace of mind with which you operate your motor.
+Whether you are the operator of an automobile, or
+one of those intrepid spirits to whom the world-war
+has given the vision of flying through the air at
+175 miles an hour, you need to give pause and say to
+yourself:</p>
+
+<p>"Just how much faith can I put in my crank-shaft?"</p>
+
+<p>And if it is a Zimco crank-shaft, made in the factory
+of a thousand sky-lights, you may be sure that
+it will stand the test.</p>
+
+<p>Zimco crank-shafts have that indefinable quality
+which gives them personality among crank-shafts.
+You know a Zimco when you see one and you feel
+that it is an old friend. It does everything but speak.
+And that its host of friends do for it.</p>
+
+<p>Let us send you free our handsome little booklet
+on "After-the-War-Problems."</p>
+
+
+<p class="center">(<i>Continued from page 8</i>)</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>one of amazement that there could be such a beautiful person
+alive in this generation.</p>
+
+<p>Ned was a young man of great possibilities, but few probabilities.
+Born in the confusion of an up-state city, and educated
+in the hub-bub of a large college, on whose football
+team he had distinguished himself in the position of left-halfback,
+he had never been so fortunate as to receive that quiet
+instruction in dark brown eyelashes and their potentialities
+which has been found to be so highly essential to the equipment</p></blockquote>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>Continued on page 107</i>)</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p class="cap_ctr">INTRODUCING THE 7-TON GARGANTUA TRUCK</p>
+
+<p>This important announcement is made by the
+Gargantua Company with a full realization of its
+significance. We realize that we are creating a new
+thing in trucks.</p>
+
+<p>The Gargantua combines all the qualities of the
+truck with the conveniences of a Fall River boat.
+Its transmission system has been called "The Queen
+of Transmissions." The efficacy of its bull-pinions
+in the tractor attachment has been the subject of
+enthusiastic praise from bull-pinion experts on all
+continents.</p>
+
+<p>The Gargantua is the result of a dream. Henry
+L. McFern (now president of the Gargantua Co.),
+was the dreamer. Mr. McFern wanted something
+that would revolutionize the truck business, and yet
+still be a truck. He gave it the thought of all his
+waking hours. His friends called him a "dreamer,"
+but Henry McFern only smiled. When first he
+brought out the model of the Gargantua it was
+called "McFern's Folly," but Henry McFern only
+smiled the more. And when the time came for the
+test, it was seen that the "dreamer" of South Bend
+had given the world a <i>new</i> Idea.</p>
+
+
+<p class="center">(<i>Continued from page 49</i>)</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>of a man of the world to-day. He knew that women were
+strange creatures, for this popular superstition reaches even
+to the recesses of the most exclusive of male retreats, but
+further than that he was uninformed. He had, it is true, like
+many another young man, felt the influence of certain pairs
+of blue eyes</p></blockquote>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>Continued on page 113</i>)</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p class="cap_ctr">I AM THE STRENGTH OF AGES</p>
+
+<p>¶I have sprung from the depths of the hills.</p>
+
+<p>¶Before the rivers were brought forth, or even
+before the green leaves in their softness made the
+landscape, I was your servant.</p>
+
+<p>¶From the bowels of the earth, where men toil in
+darknesss, I come, bringing a message of insuperable
+strength.</p>
+
+<p>¶From sun to sun I meet and overcome the forces
+of nature, brothers of mine, yet opponents; kindred,
+yet foes.</p>
+
+<p>¶I am silent, but my voice re-echoes beyond the
+ends of the earth.</p>
+
+<p>¶I am master, yet I am slave.</p>
+
+<p>¶I am Woonsocket Wrought Iron Pipe, "the
+Strongest in the Long Run." (Trademark.)</p>
+
+<p>Send for illustrated booklet entitled</p>
+
+<p class="center">"<i>The Romance of Iron Pipe.</i>"</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p class="center">(<i>Continued from page 107</i>)</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>which had come into his life during the years when he was in
+susceptible moods, but such occurrences were not the result of
+any realization on his part of their significance. They were
+in the same category of physical phenomena as includes measles
+or chicken-pox, for example,&mdash;the direct result of a certain</p></blockquote>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>Continued on page 125</i>)</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p class="cap_ctr">WHY WORRY OVER CHISEL TROUBLES?</p>
+
+<p>"You've got the right kind of chisel there. I see
+it's a Blimco. I've always found that Blimco chisels
+stand up longer under everyday usage, and I tell my
+foremen to see to it that the men always have their
+Blimcoes and no other. I have tried the others, but
+have always come back to the Blimco. I suppose it
+is because the Blimco is made by master-workmen,
+supervised by experts and sold only by dealers who
+know the best tools. When you see a Blimco in a
+dealer's window, you may know that that dealer is a
+man of discrimination. The discriminating workman
+always uses a Blimco. 'The Chisel of Distinction.'
+Clip this coupon and send it NOW for our instructive
+booklet 'Chiselling Prosperity'."</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p class="center">(<i>Continued from page 113</i>)</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>temporary debility which renders the patient susceptible to
+infection.</p>
+
+<p>Ned Pillsbury was therefore somewhat overcome by the
+vision of the girl with the green hat, and suffered from that
+feeling of pioneering emotion which must have affected Mr.
+Balboa who, according to the poet, stood "silent on a peak in
+Darien" survey-</p></blockquote>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>Continued on page 140</i>)</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p class="cap_ctr">MAKE YOUR PISTON-RINGS WORK FOR YOU</p>
+
+<p>Why should you persist in being ashamed of your
+piston-rings?</p>
+
+<p>Why should you make your wife and daughter
+suffer the humiliation which comes from knowing
+that you are using an inferior make?</p>
+
+<p>"Emancipator" Piston-Rings cost more than ordinary
+piston-rings, but they are worth it. They are
+worth more even than we ask.</p>
+
+<p>What would it mean to you to know that you were
+not losing steam power because of a faulty piston-ring?
+Wouldn't it be worth a few extra dollars?</p>
+
+<p>Napoleon once said that an army marches on its
+stomach.</p>
+
+<p>If this has any relation to piston-rings, we fail to
+see it. But it has as much relation to piston-rings
+as a matter of price does when steam economy is at
+stake.</p>
+
+<p>"Emancipator" Piston-Rings bring twice the
+power with one-half the trouble. That's why we call
+them "Emancipator."</p>
+
+<p>Ask your grocer about "Emancipators." He will
+tell you to ask your garage-man. In the meantime,
+let us send you our catalog.</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p class="center">(<i>Continued from page 125</i>)</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>ing the Pacific. He was aware of a strange exaltation coursing
+through his veins, and before he knew it, he was on his
+feet and pushing through the revolving door in the compartment
+behind the green hat.</p></blockquote>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>Continued on page 156</i>)</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p class="cap_ctr">YOU, MR. LEATHER-BELTING-USER!</p>
+
+<p>What is your problem?</p>
+
+<p>Do you wake up in the morning with green spots
+before your eyes? Are you depressed? Does the
+thought of a day's work with an unsatisfactory belting
+weigh upon your mind, bringing on acidosis,
+hardening of the arteries, and a feeling of opposition
+to the League of Nations?</p>
+
+<p>If so, let us tackle your problem for you.</p>
+
+<p>We have built up a service department which
+stands alone in its field. For sixteen years we have
+been making it the perfect institution that it is
+to-day.</p>
+
+<p>Bring your belting troubles to Mr. Henry W.
+Wurlitz, who is at the head of our service department,
+and he will set you right. He will show you
+the way to a Bigger, Better, Belting outlook.</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p class="center">(<i>Continued from page 140</i>)</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>"I beg your pardon," he said softly, as they emerged on
+the street, "but did you drop this flask?"</p>
+
+<p>She turned quickly and faced him. There was a twinkle
+in her dark brown eyes as she answered him:</p></blockquote>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>To be continued</i>)</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 37660 ***</div>
+
+</body>
+</html>
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+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
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+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #37660 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/37660)
diff --git a/old/37660-0.txt b/old/37660-0.txt
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Of All Things, by Robert C. Benchley
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Of All Things
+
+Author: Robert C. Benchley
+
+Release Date: October 7, 2011 [EBook #37660]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OF ALL THINGS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Andrea Ball, Christine Bell & Marc D'Hooghe
+at http://www.freeliterature.org
+
+
+
+
+
+
+OF ALL THINGS
+
+BY
+
+ROBERT C. BENCHLEY
+
+
+NEW YORK
+HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY
+1921
+
+
+
+
+     TO
+     HENRY BESSEMER
+
+     Without whose tireless patience, unswerving industry and
+     inexhaustible zeal the Bessemer steel converter would never
+     have become a reality, this book is affectionately dedicated
+     by
+
+     THE AUTHOR.
+
+
+
+
+These sketches appeared originally in _Vanity Fair_, _The New York
+Tribune Sunday Magazine_, _Collier's Weekly_, _Life_, and _Motor
+Print_, all but two of these magazines immediately afterward having
+either discontinued publication or changed hands. To those which are
+old enough to remember, and to the new managements of the others, the
+author offers grateful acknowledgment for permission to reprint the
+material in this book. (As a matter of fact, permission was never
+asked, but they probably won't mind anyway.)
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE
+
+
+When, in the Course of human events, it becomes necessary for one
+people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with
+another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and
+equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle
+them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they
+should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.
+
+We hold these truths to be self-evident,--that all men are created
+equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable
+Rights; that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of
+Happiness. That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted
+among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the
+governed,--That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of
+these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it,
+and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such
+principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall
+seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence,
+indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be
+changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience
+hath shewn, that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are
+sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which
+they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations,
+pursuing invariably the same Object, evinces a design to reduce them
+under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to
+throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their own
+future security. Such has been the patient sufferance of these
+Colonies; and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter
+their former Systems of Government. The history of the present King of
+Great Britain is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all
+having in direct object the establishment of an absolute Tyranny over
+these States. To prove this, let Facts be submitted to a candid world.
+
+                                                    R.C.B.
+
+"The Rookery"
+Breeming Downs
+Wippet-cum-Twyne
+New York City
+August 24, 1921
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+      I THE SOCIAL LIFE OF THE NEWT
+     II "COFFEE, MEGG AND ILK, PLEASE"
+    III WHEN GENIUS REMAINED YOUR HUMBLE SERVANT
+     IV THE TORTURES OF WEEK-END VISITING
+      V GARDENING NOTES
+     VI LESSON NUMBER ONE
+    VII THOUGHTS ON FUEL SAVING
+   VIII NOT ACCORDING TO HOYLE
+     IX FROM NINE TO FIVE
+      X TURNING OVER A NEW LEDGER LEAF
+     XI A PIECE OF ROAST BEEF
+    XII THE COMMUNITY MASQUE AS A SUBSTITUTE FOR WAR
+   XIII CALL FOR MR. KENWORTHY!
+    XIV FOOTBALL; COURTESY OF MR. MORSE
+     XV A LITTLE DEBIT IN YOUR TONNEAU
+    XVI A ROMANCE IN ENCYCLOPÆDIA LAND
+   XVII THE PASSING OF THE ORTHODOX PARADOX
+  XVIII SHAKESPEARE EXPLAINED
+    XIX THE SCIENTIFIC SCENARIO
+     XX THE MOST POPULAR BOOK OF THE MONTH
+    XXI CHRISTMAS AFTERNOON
+   XXII HAIL, VERNAL EQUINOX!
+
+
+            TABLOID EDITIONS
+
+        THE AMERICAN MAGAZINE
+        HARPER'S MAGAZINE
+        THE SATURDAY EVENING POST
+
+
+
+
+OF ALL THINGS!
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+THE SOCIAL LIFE OF THE NEWT
+
+
+It is not generally known that the newt, although one of the smallest
+of our North American animals, has an extremely happy home-life. It is
+just one of those facts which never get bruited about.
+
+[Illustration: "Since that time I have practically lived among the
+newts."]
+
+I first became interested in the social phenomena of newt life early
+in the spring of 1913, shortly after I had finished my researches in
+sexual differentiation among amœba. Since that time I have practically
+lived among newts, jotting down observations, making lantern-slides,
+watching them in their work and in their play (and you may rest
+assured that the little rogues have their play--as who does not?)
+until, from much lying in a research posture on my stomach, over the
+inclosure in which they were confined, I found myself developing what
+I feared might be rudimentary creepers. And so, late this autumn, I
+stood erect and walked into my house, where I immediately set about
+the compilation of the notes I had made.
+
+So much for the non-technical introduction. The remainder of this
+article bids fair to be fairly scientific.
+
+In studying the more intimate phases of newt life, one is chiefly
+impressed with the methods by means of which the males force their
+attentions upon the females, with matrimony as an object. For the newt
+is, after all, only a newt, and has his weaknesses just as any of the
+rest of us. And I, for one, would not have it different. There is
+little enough fun in the world as it is.
+
+The peculiar thing about a newt's courtship is its restraint. It is
+carried on, at all times, with a minimum distance of fifty paces (newt
+measure) between the male and the female. Some of the bolder males may
+now and then attempt to overstep the bounds of good sportsmanship and
+crowd in to forty-five paces, but such tactics are frowned upon by the
+Rules Committee. To the eye of an uninitiated observer, the pair might
+be dancing a few of the more open figures of the minuet.
+
+The means employed by the males to draw the attention and win the
+affection of those of the opposite sex (females) are varied and
+extremely strategic. Until the valuable researches by Strudlehoff in
+1887 (in his "_Entwickelungsmechanik_") no one had been able to
+ascertain just what it was that the male newt did to make the female
+see anything in him worth throwing herself away on. It had been
+observed that the most personally unattractive newt could advance to
+within fifty paces of a female of his acquaintance and, by some _coup
+d'Å“il_, bring her to a point where she would, in no uncertain terms,
+indicate her willingness to go through with the marriage ceremony at
+an early date.
+
+It was Strudlehoff who discovered, after watching several thousand
+courting newts under a magnifying lens (questionable taste on his
+part, without doubt, but all is fair in pathological love) that the
+male, during the courting season (the season opens on the tenth of
+March and extends through the following February, leaving about ten
+days for general overhauling and redecorating) gives forth a strange,
+phosphorescent glow from the center of his highly colored dorsal
+crest, somewhat similar in effect to the flash of a diamond scarfpin
+in a red necktie. This glow, according to Strudlehoff, so fascinates
+the female with its air of elegance and indication of wealth, that she
+immediately falls a victim to its lure.
+
+But the little creature, true to her sex-instinct, does not at once
+give evidence that her morale has been shattered. She affects a
+coyness and lack of interest, by hitching herself sideways along the
+bottom of the aquarium, with her head turned over her right shoulder
+away from the swain. A trained ear might even detect her whistling in
+an indifferent manner.
+
+The male, in the meantime, is flashing his gleamer frantically two
+blocks away and is performing all sorts of attractive feats,
+calculated to bring the lady newt to terms. I have seen a male, in the
+stress of his handicap courtship, stand on his fore-feet,
+gesticulating in amorous fashion with his hind feet in the air. Franz
+Ingehalt, in his "Ãœber Weltschmerz des Newt," recounts having observed
+a distinct and deliberate undulation of the body, beginning with the
+shoulders and ending at the filament of the tail, which might well
+have been the origin of what is known to-day in scientific circles as
+"the shimmy." The object seems to be the same, except that in the case
+of the newt, it is the male who is the active agent.
+
+In order to test the power of observation in the male during these
+manœuvers, I carefully removed the female, for whose benefit he was
+undulating, and put in her place, in slow succession, another (but
+less charming) female, a paper-weight of bronze shaped like a newt,
+and, finally, a common rubber eraser. From the distance at which the
+courtship was being carried on, the male (who was, it must be
+admitted, a bit near-sighted congenitally) was unable to detect the
+change in personnel, and continued, even in the presence of the rubber
+eraser, to gyrate and undulate in a most conscientious manner, still
+under the impression that he was making a conquest.
+
+At last, worn out by his exertions, and disgusted at the meagerness of
+the reaction on the eraser, he gave a low cry of rage and despair and
+staggered to a nearby pan containing barley-water, from which he
+proceeded to drink himself into a gross stupor.
+
+Thus, little creature, did your romance end, and who shall say that
+its ending was one whit less tragic than that of Camille? Not I, for
+one.... In fact, the two cases are not at all analogous.
+
+And now that we have seen how wonderfully Nature works in the
+fulfilment of her laws, even among her tiniest creatures, let us study
+for a minute a cross-section of the community-life of the newt. It is
+a life full of all kinds of exciting adventure, from weaving nests to
+crawling about in the sun and catching insect larvæ and crustaceans.
+The newt's day is practically never done, largely because the insect
+larvæ multiply three million times as fast as the newt can possibly
+catch and eat them. And it takes the closest kind of community
+team-work in the newt colony to get things anywhere near cleaned up by
+nightfall.
+
+It is early morning, and the workers are just appearing, hurrying to
+the old log which is to be the scene of their labors. What a
+scampering! What a bustle! Ah, little scamperers! Ah, little bustlers!
+How lucky you are, and how wise! You work long hours, without pay, for
+the sheer love of working. An ideal existence, I'll tell the
+scientific world.
+
+Over here on the right of the log are the Master Draggers. Of all the
+newt workers, they are the most futile, which is high praise indeed.
+Come, let us look closer and see what it is that they are doing.
+
+The one in the lead is dragging a bit of gurry out from the water and
+up over the edge into the sunlight. Following him, in single file,
+come the rest of the Master Draggers. They are not dragging anything,
+but are sort of helping the leader by crowding against him and eating
+little pieces out of the filament of his tail.
+
+And now they have reached the top. The leader, by dint of much
+leg-work, has succeeded in dragging his prize to the ridge of the log.
+
+The little workers, reaching the goal with their precious freight, are
+now giving it over to the Master Pushers, who have been waiting for
+them in the sun all this while. The Master Pushers' work is soon
+accomplished, for it consists simply in pushing the piece of gurry
+over the other side of the log until it falls with a splash into the
+water, where it is lost.
+
+This part of their day's task finished, the tiny toilers rest,
+clustered together in a group, waving their heads about from side to
+side, as who should say: "There--that's done!" And so it _is_ done, my
+little Master Draggers and my little Master Pushers, and _well_ done,
+too. Would that my own work were as clean-cut and as satisfying.
+
+And so it goes. Day in and day out, the busy army of newts go on
+making the world a better place in which to live. They have their
+little trials and tragedies, it is true, but they also have their fun,
+as any one can tell by looking at a logful of sleeping newts on a hot
+summer day.
+
+And, after all, what more has life to offer?
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+"COFFEE, MEGG AND ILK, PLEASE"
+
+
+Give me any topic in current sociology, such as "The Working Classes
+_vs._ the Working Classes," or "Various Aspects of the Minimum Wage,"
+and I can talk on it with considerable confidence. I have no
+hesitation in putting the Workingman, as such, in his place among the
+hewers of wood and drawers of water--a necessary adjunct to our modern
+life, if you will, but of little real consequence in the big events of
+the world.
+
+But when I am confronted, in the flesh, by the "close up" of a
+workingman with any vestige of authority, however small, I immediately
+lose my perspective--and also my poise. I become servile, almost
+cringing. I feel that my modest demands on his time may, unless
+tactfully presented, be offensive to him and result in something, I
+haven't been able to analyze just what, perhaps public humiliation.
+
+For instance, whenever I enter an elevator in a public building I am
+usually repeating to myself the number of the floor at which I wish to
+alight. The elevator man gives the impression of being a social
+worker, filling the job just for that day to help out the regular
+elevator man, and I feel that the least I can do is to show him that I
+know what's what. So I don't tell him my floor number as soon as I get
+in. Only elderly ladies do that. I keep whispering it over to myself,
+thinking to tell it to the world when the proper time comes. But then
+the big question arises--what is the proper time? If I want to get out
+at the eighteenth floor, should I tell him at the sixteenth or the
+seventeenth? I decide on the sixteenth and frame my lips to say,
+"Eighteen out, please." (Just why one should have to add the word
+"out" to the number of the floor is not clear. When you say "eighteen"
+the obvious construction of the phrase is that you want to get _out_
+at the eighteenth floor, not that you want to get in there or be let
+down through the flooring of the car at that point. However, you'll
+find the most sophisticated elevator riders, namely, messenger boys,
+always adding the word "out," and it is well to follow what the
+messenger boys do in such matters if you don't want to go wrong.)
+
+So there I am, mouthing the phrase, "Eighteen out, please," as we
+shoot past the tenth--eleventh--twelfth--thirteenth floors. Then I
+begin to get panicky. Supposing that I should forget my lines! Or that
+I should say them too soon! Or too late! We are now at the fifteenth
+floor. I clear my throat. Sixteen! Hoarsely I murmur, "Eighteen out."
+But at the same instant a man with a cigar in his mouth bawls,
+"Seventeen out!" and I am not heard.
+
+[Illustration: "At the same instant a man with a cigar in his mouth
+bawls, 'Seventeen out!'"]
+
+The car stops at seventeen, and I step confidentially up to the
+elevator man and repeat, with an attempt at nonchalance, "Eighteen
+out, please." But just as I say the words the door clangs, drowning
+out my request, and we shoot up again. I make another attempt, but
+have become inarticulate and succeed only in making a noise like a man
+strangling. And by this time we are at the twenty-first floor with no
+relief in sight. Shattered, I retire to the back of the car and ride
+up to the roof and down again, trying to look as if I worked in the
+building and had to do it, however boresome it might be. On the return
+trip I don't care what the elevator man thinks of me, and tell him at
+every floor that I, personally, am going to get off at the eighteenth,
+no matter what any one else in the car does. I am dictatorial enough
+when I am riled. It is only in the opening rounds that I hug the
+ropes.
+
+My timidity when dealing with minor officials strikes me first in my
+voice. I have any number of witnesses who will sign statements to the
+effect that my voice changed about twelve years ago, and that in
+ordinary conversation my tone, if not especially virile, is at least
+consistent and even. But when, for instance, I give an order at a soda
+fountain, if the clerk overawes me at all, my voice breaks into a
+yodel that makes the phrase "Coffee, egg and milk" a pretty snatch of
+song, but practically worthless as an order.
+
+If the soda counter is lined with customers and the clerks so busy
+tearing up checks and dropping them into the toy banks that they seem
+to resent any call on their drink-mixing abilities, I might just as
+well save time and go home and shake up an egg and milk for myself,
+for I shall not be waited on until every one else has left the counter
+and they are putting the nets over the caramels for the night. I know
+that. I've gone through it too many times to be deceived.
+
+For there is something about the realization that I must shout out my
+order ahead of some one else that absolutely inhibits my shouting
+powers. I will stand against the counter, fingering my ten-cent check
+and waiting for the clerk to come near enough for me to tell him what
+I want, while, in the meantime, ten or a dozen people have edged up
+next to me and given their orders, received their drinks and gone
+away. Every once in a while I catch a clerk's eye and lean forward
+murmuring, "Coffee"--but that is as far as I get. Some one else has
+shoved his way in and shouted, "Coca-Cola," and I draw back to get out
+of the way of the vichy spray. (Incidentally, the men who push their
+way in and footfault on their orders always ask for "Coca-Cola."
+Somehow it seems like painting the lily for them to order a nerve
+tonic.)
+
+I then decide that the thing for me to do is to speak up loud and act
+brazenly. So I clear my throat, and, placing both hands on the
+counter, emit what promises to be a perfect bellow: "COFFEE, MEGG
+AND ILK." This makes just about the impression you'd think it would,
+both on my neighbors and the clerk, especially as it is delivered in a
+tone which ranges from a rich barytone to a rather rasping tenor. At
+this I withdraw and go to the other end of the counter, where I can
+begin life over again with a clean slate.
+
+[Illustration: "Placing both hands on the counter, I emit what
+promises to be a perfect bellow."]
+
+Here, perhaps, I am suddenly confronted by an impatient clerk who is
+in a perfect frenzy to grab my check and tear it into bits to drop in
+his box. "What's yours?" he flings at me. I immediately lose my memory
+and forget what it was that I wanted. But here is a man who has a lot
+of people to wait on and who doubtless gets paid according to the
+volume of business he brings in. I have no right to interfere with his
+work. There is a big man edging his way beside me who is undoubtedly
+going to shout "Coca-Cola" in half a second. So I beat him to it and
+say, "Coca-Cola," which is probably the last drink in the store that I
+want to buy. But it is the only thing that I can remember at the
+moment, in spite of the fact that I have been thinking all morning how
+good a coffee, egg and milk would taste. I suppose that one of the
+psychological principles of advertising is to so hammer the name of
+your product into the mind of the timid buyer that when he is
+confronted by a brusk demand for an order be can't think of anything
+else to say, whether he wants it or not.
+
+This dread of offending the minor official or appearing to a
+disadvantage before a clerk extends even to my taking nourishment. I
+don't think that I have ever yet gone into a restaurant and ordered
+exactly what I wanted. If only the waiter would give me the card and
+let me alone for, say, fifteen minutes, as he does when I want to get
+him to bring me my check, I could work out a meal along the lines of
+what I like. But when he stands over me, with disgust clearly
+registered on his face, I order the thing I like least and consider
+myself lucky to get out of it with so little disgrace.
+
+And yet I have no doubt that if one could see him in his family life
+the Workingman is just an ordinary person like the rest of us. He is
+probably not at all as we think of him in our dealings with him--a
+harsh, dictatorial, intolerant autocrat, but rather a kindly soul who
+likes nothing better than to sit by the fire with his children and
+read.
+
+And he would probably be the first person to scoff at the idea that he
+could frighten me.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+WHEN GENIUS REMAINED YOUR HUMBLE SERVANT
+
+
+Of course, I really know nothing about it, but I would be willing to
+wager that the last words of Penelope, as Odysseus bounced down the
+front steps, bag in hand, were: "Now, don't forget to write, Odie.
+You'll find some papyrus rolled up in your clean peplum, and just drop
+me a line on it whenever you get a chance."
+
+And ever since that time people have been promising to write, and then
+explaining why they haven't written. Most personal correspondence of
+to-day consists of letters the first half of which are given over to
+an indexed statement of reasons why the writer hasn't written before,
+followed by one paragraph of small talk, with the remainder devoted to
+reasons why it is imperative that the letter be brought to a close. So
+many people begin their letters by saying that they have been rushed
+to death during the last month, and therefore haven't found time to
+write, that one wonders where all the grown persons come from who
+attend movies at eleven in the morning. There has been a
+misunderstanding of the word "busy" somewhere.
+
+So explanatory has the method of letter writing become that it is
+probable that if Odysseus were a modern traveler his letters home to
+Penelope would average something like this:
+
+
+    _Calypso,_
+_Friday afternoon._
+
+DEAR PEN:--I have been so tied up with work during the last week that
+I haven't had a chance to get near a desk to write to you. I have been
+trying to every day, but something would come up just at the last
+minute that would prevent me. Last Monday I got the papyrus all
+unrolled, and then I had to tend to Scylla and Charybdis (I may have
+written you about them before), and by the time I got through with
+them it was bedtime, and, believe me, I am snatching every bit of
+sleep I can get these days. And so it went, first the Læstrygones, and
+then something else, and here it is Friday. Well, there isn't much
+news to write about. Things are going along here about as usual. There
+is a young nymph here who seems to own the place, but I haven't had
+any chance to meet her socially. Well, there goes the ship's bell. I
+guess I had better be bringing this to a close. I have got a lot of
+work to do before I get dressed to go to a dinner of that nymph I was
+telling you about. I have met her brother, and he and I are interested
+in the same line of goods. He was at Troy with me. Well, I guess I
+must be closing. Will try to get off a longer letter in a day or two.
+
+Your loving husband,
+    ODIE.
+
+P.S.--You haven't got that bunch of sports hanging round the palace
+still, have you? Tell Telemachus I'll take him out of school if I hear
+of his playing around with any of them.
+
+
+But there was a time when letter writing was such a fad, especially
+among the young girls, that if they had had to choose between eating
+three meals a day and writing a letter they wouldn't have given the
+meals even a consideration. In fact, they couldn't do both, for the
+length of maidenly letters in those days precluded any time out for
+meals. They may have knocked off for a few minutes during the heat of
+the day for a whiff at a bottle of salts, but to nibble at anything
+heartier than lettuce would have cramped their style.
+
+Take Miss Clarissa Harlowe, for instance. In Richardson's book (which,
+in spite of my personal aversion to it, has been hailed by every great
+writer, from Pope to Stevenson, as being perfectly bully) she is
+given the opportunity of telling 2,400 closely printed pages full of
+story by means of letters to her female friend, Miss Howe (who plays a
+part similar to the orchestra leader in Frank Tinney's act). And 2,400
+pages is nothing to her. When the book closes she is just beginning to
+get her stride. As soon as she got through with that she probably sat
+down and wrote a series of letters to the London papers about the need
+for conscription to fight the Indians in America.
+
+To a girl like Clarissa, in the middle of the eighteenth century, no
+day was too full of horrors, no hour was too crowded with terrific
+happenings to prevent her from seating herself at a desk (she must
+have carried the desk about with her, strapped over her shoulder) and
+tearing off twenty or thirty pages to Friend Anna, telling her all
+about it. The only way that I can see in which she could accomplish
+this so efficiently would be to have a copy boy standing at her elbow,
+who took the letter, sheet by sheet, as she wrote it, and dashed with
+it to the printer.
+
+It is hard to tell just which a girl of that period considered more
+important, the experiences she was writing of or the letter itself.
+She certainly never slighted the letter. If the experience wanted to
+overtake her, and jump up on the desk beside her, all right, but,
+experience or no experience, she was going to get that letter in the
+next post or die in the attempt. Unfortunately, she never died in the
+attempt.
+
+Thus, an attack on a young lady's house by a band of cutthroats,
+resulting in the burning of the structure and her abduction, might
+have been told of in the eighteenth century letter system as follows:
+
+
+_Monday night._
+
+SWEET ANNA:--At this writing I find myself in the most horrible
+circumstance imaginable. Picture to yourself, if you can, my dear
+Anna, a party of villainous brigands, veritable cutthroats, all of
+them, led by a surly fellow in green alpaca with white insertion,
+breaking their way, by very force, through the side of your domicile,
+like so many ugly intruders, and threatening you with vile
+imprecations to make you disclose the hiding place of the family
+jewels. If the mere thought of such a contingency is painful to you,
+my beloved Anna, consider what it means to me, your delicate friend,
+to whom it is actually happening at this very minute! For such is in
+very truth the situation which is disclosing itself in my room as I
+write. Not three feet away from me is the odious person before
+described. Now he is threatening me with renewed vigor! Now he has
+placed his coarse hands on my throat, completely hiding the pearl
+necklace which papa brought me from Epsom last summer, and which you,
+and also young Pindleson (whose very name I mention with a blush),
+have so often admired. But more of this later, and until then, believe
+me, my dear Anna, to be
+
+Your ever distressed and affectionate
+    CL. HARLOWE.
+
+
+
+_Monday night. Later._
+
+DEAREST ANNA:--Now, indeed, it is evident, my best, my only friend,
+that I am face to face with the bitterest of fates. You will remember
+that in my last letter I spoke to you of a party of unprincipled
+knaves who were invading my apartment. And now do I find that they
+have, in furtherance of their inexcusable plans, set fire to that
+portion of the house which lies directly behind this, so that as I put
+my pen to paper the flames are creeping, like hungry creatures of some
+sort, through the partitions and into this very room, so that did I
+esteem my safety more than my correspondence with you, my precious
+companion, I should at once be making preparation for immediate
+departure. O my dear! To be thus seized, as I am at this very
+instant, by the unscrupulous leader of the band and carried, by
+brute force, down the stairway through the butler's pantry and into
+the servants' hall, writing as I go, resting my poor paper on the
+shoulder of my detested abductor, is truly, you will agree, my sweet
+Anna, a pitiable episode.
+
+[Illustration: "To be thus seized ... is truly, you will agree, my
+sweet Anna, a pitiable episode."]
+
+Adieu, my intimate friend.
+
+Your obt. s'v't,
+    CL. HARLOWE.
+
+
+One wonders (or, at least, _I_ wonder, and that is sufficient for the
+purposes of this article) what the letter writing young lady of that
+period would have done had she lived in this day of postcards showing
+the rocks at Scipawisset or the Free Public Library in East Tarvia.
+She might have used them for some of her shorter messages, but I
+rather doubt it. The foregoing scene could hardly have been done
+justice to on a card bearing the picture of the Main Street of the
+town, looking north from the Soldiers' Monument, with the following
+legend:
+
+     "Our house is the third on the left with the lilac bush.
+     Cross marks window where gang of rough-necks have just broken
+     in and are robbing and burning the house. Looks like a bad
+     night. Wish you were here. C.H."
+
+No; that would never have done, but it would have been a big relief
+for the postilion, or whoever it was that had to carry Miss Clarissa's
+effusions to their destination. The mail on Monday morning, after a
+springlike Sunday, must have been something in the nature of a wagon
+load of rolls of news print that used to be seen standing in front of
+newspaper offices in the good old days when newspapers were printed on
+paper stock. Of course, the postilion had the opportunity of whiling
+away the time between stations by reading some of the spicier bits in
+the assortment, but even a postilion must have had his feelings, and a
+man can't read that kind of stuff _all_ of the time, and still keep
+his health.
+
+Of course, there are a great many people now who write letters because
+they like to. Also, there are some who do it because they feel that
+they owe it to posterity and to their publishers to do so. As soon as
+a man begins to sniff a chance that he may become moderately famous he
+is apt to brush up on his letter writing and never send anything out
+that has not been polished and proof-read, with the idea in mind that
+some day some one is going to get all of his letters together and make
+a book of them. Apparently, most great men whose letters have been
+published have had premonition of their greatness when quite young,
+as their childish letters bear the marks of careful and studied
+attention to publicity values. One can almost imagine the budding
+genius, aged eight, sitting at his desk and saying to himself:
+
+[Illustration: "I must not forget that I am now going through the
+'_Sturm und Drang_' period."]
+
+"In this spontaneous letter to my father I must not forget that I am
+now going through the _Sturm und Drang_ (storm and stress) period of
+my youth and that this letter will have to be grouped by the compiler
+under the _Sturm und Drang_ (storm and stress) section in my collected
+letters. I must therefore keep in the key and quote only such of my
+favorite authors as will contribute to the effect. I think I will use
+Werther to-day.... My dear Father"--etc.
+
+I have not known many geniuses in their youth, but I have had several
+youths pointed out to me by their parents as geniuses, and I must
+confess that I have never seen a letter from any one of them that
+differed greatly from the letters of a normal boy, unless perhaps they
+were spelled less accurately. Given certain uninteresting conditions,
+let us say, at boarding school, and I believe that the average bright
+boy's letter home would read something in this fashion:
+
+
+_Exeter, N.H.,_
+  _Wed., April 25._
+
+MY DEAR FATHER AND MOTHER:
+
+I have been working pretty hard this week, studying for a history
+examination, and so haven't had much of a chance to write to you.
+Everything is about the same as usual here, and there doesn't seem to
+be much news to write to you about. The box came all right, and thank
+you very much. All the fellows liked it, especially the little apple
+pies. Thank you very much for sending it. There hasn't much been
+happening here since I wrote you last week. I had to buy a new pair of
+running drawers, which cost me fifty cents. Does that come out of my
+allowance? Or will you pay for it? There doesn't seem to be any other
+news. Well, there goes the bell, so I guess I will be closing.
+
+Your loving son,
+    BUXTON.
+
+
+Given the same, even less interesting conditions, and a boy such as
+Stevenson must have been (judging from his letters) could probably
+have delivered himself of this, and more, too:
+
+
+_Wyckham-Wyckham,_
+    _The Tenth._
+
+DEAR PATER:--To-day has been unbelievably exquisite! Great, undulating
+clouds, rolling in serried formation across a sky of pure _lapis
+lazuli_. I feel like what Updike calls a "myrmidon of unhesitating
+amplitude." And a perfect gem of a letter from Toto completed the
+felicitous experience. You would hardly believe, and yet you must, in
+your _cœur des cœurs_, know, that the brown, esoteric hills of this
+Oriental retreat affect me like the red wine of Russilon, and,
+indigent as I am in these matters, I cannot but feel that you have, as
+Herbert says:
+
+    _"Carve or discourse; do not a famine fear._
+     _Who carves is kind to two, who talks to all."_
+
+Yesterday I saw a little native boy, a veritable boy of the streets,
+playing at a game at once so naïve and so resplendent that I was
+irresistibly drawn to its contemplation. You will doubtless jeer when
+I tell you. He was tossing a small _blatch_, such as grow in great
+profusion here, to and fro between himself and the wall of the
+_limple_. I was stunned for the moment, and then I realized that I was
+looking into the very soul of the peasantry, the open stigma of the
+nation. How queer it all seemed! Did it not?
+
+You doubtless think me an ungrateful fellow for not mentioning the
+delicious assortment of goodies which came, like melons to Artemis, to
+this benighted _gesellschaft_ on Thursday last. They were devoured to
+the last crumb, and I was reminded as we ate, like so many _wurras_,
+of those lines of that gorgeous Herbert, of whom I am so fond:
+
+    _"Must all be veiled, while he that reads divines,_
+     _Catching the sense at two removes?"_
+
+The breeze is springing up, and it brings to me messages of the open
+meadows of Litzel, deep festooned with the riot of gloriannas. How
+quiet they seem to me as I think of them now! How emblematic! Do you
+know, my dear Parent, that I sometimes wonder if, after all, it were
+not better to dream, and dream ... and dream.
+
+Your affectionate son,
+    BERGQUIST.
+
+
+So don't worry about your boy if he writes home like that. He may
+simply have an eye for fame and future compilation.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+THE TORTURES OF WEEK-END VISITING
+
+
+The present labor situation shows to what a pretty pass things may
+come because of a lack of understanding between the parties involved.
+I bring in the present labor situation just to give a touch of
+timeliness to this thing. Had I been writing for the Christmas number,
+I should have begun as follows: "The indiscriminate giving of
+Christmas presents shows to what a pretty pass things may come because
+of a lack of understanding between the parties involved."
+
+The idea to be driven home is that things may come to a pretty pass by
+the parties involved in an affair of any kind if they do not come to
+an understanding before commencing operations.
+
+I hope I have made my point clear. Especially is this true, (watch out
+carefully now, as the whole nub of the article will be coming along in
+just a minute), especially is this true in the relations between host
+and guest on week-end visits. (There, you have it! In fact, the title
+to this whole thing might very well be, "The Need for a Clearer
+Definition of Relations between Host and Guest on Week-end Visits,"
+and not be at all overstating it, at that.)
+
+The logic of this will be apparent to any one who has ever been a host
+or a guest at a week-end party, a classification embracing practically
+all Caucasians over eleven years of age who can put powder on the nose
+or tie a bow-tie. Who has not wished that his host would come out
+frankly at the beginning of the visit and state, in no uncertain
+terms, the rules and preferences of the household in such matters as
+the breakfast hour? And who has not sounded his guest to find out what
+he likes in the regulation of his diet and _modus vivendi_ (mode of
+living)? Collective bargaining on the part of labor unions and capital
+makes it possible for employers to know just what the workers think on
+matters of common interest. Is collective bargaining between host and
+guest so impossible, then?
+
+Take, for example, the matter of arising in the morning. Of course,
+where there is a large house-party the problem is a simple one, for
+you can always hear the others pattering about and brushing their
+teeth. You can regulate your own arising by the number of people who
+seem to be astir. But if you are the only guest there is apt to be a
+frightful misunderstanding.
+
+"At what time is breakfast?" you ask.
+
+"Oh, any old time on Sundays," replies the hostess with a generous
+gesture. "Sleep as late as you like. This is 'Liberty Hall.'"
+
+The sentiment in this attitude is perfectly bully, but there is
+nothing that you can really take hold of in it. It satisfies at the
+time, but in the morning there is a vagueness about it that is simply
+terrifying.
+
+Let us say that you awake at eight. You listen and hear no one
+stirring. Then, over on the cool pillow again until eight-twenty.
+Again up on the elbow, with head cocked on one side. There is a creak
+in the direction of the stairs. They may all be up and going down to
+breakfast! It is but the work of a moment, to bound out of bed and
+listen at the door. Perhaps open it modestly and peer out. Deathlike
+silence, broken only, as the phrase goes, by the ticking of the hall
+clock, and not a soul in sight. Probably they are late sleepers. Maybe
+eleven o'clock is their Sunday rising hour. Some people _are_ like
+that.
+
+Shut the door and sit on the edge of the bed. More sleep is out of the
+question. Let's take a look at the pictures in the guest-room, just to
+pass the time. Here's one of Lorna Doone. How d'e do, Lorna? Here's a
+group--taken in 1902--showing your host in evening clothes, holding a
+mandolin. Probably a member of his college musical-club. Rather
+unkempt looking bunch, you _must_ say. Well, how about this one? An
+etching, showing suspicious-looking barges on what is probably the
+Thames. Fair enough, at that.
+
+Back to the door and listen again. Tick-tock-tick-tock. Probably, if
+you started your tub, you'd wake the whole house. Let's sit down on
+the edge of the bed again.
+
+Hello, here are some books on the table. "Fifty Famous Sonnets,"
+illustrated by Maxfield Parrish. Never touch a sonnet before
+breakfast. "My experiences in the Alps," by a woman mountain-climber
+who has written on the fly-leaf, "To my good friends the Elbridges, in
+memory of many happy days together at Chamounix. October, 1907." That
+settles _that_. "Essay on Compensation" in limp leather, by R.W.
+Emerson, published by Houghton, Mifflin & Co. Oh, very well! You
+suppose they thought that would be over your head, did they? Well,
+we'll just show them! We'll read it just for spite. Opening, to the
+red ribbon:
+
+"Of the like nature is that expectation of change which instantly
+follows the suspension of our voluntary activity. The terror of
+cloudless noon--"
+
+By the way, it must be nearly noon now! Ten minutes past nine, only!
+Well, the only thing to do is get dressed and go out and walk about
+the grounds. Eliminate the tub as too noisy. And so, very cautiously,
+almost clandestinely, you proceed to dress.
+
+And now, just to reverse the process. Suppose you are the host. You
+have arisen at eight and listened at the guest's door. No sound.
+Tip-toe back and get dressed, talking in whispers to your wife (the
+hostess) and cramming flannel bears into the infant's mouth to keep
+him from disturbing the sleeper.
+
+"Bill looked tired last night. Better let him sleep a little longer,"
+you suggest. And so, downstairs on your hands and knees, and look over
+the Sunday papers. Then a bracing walk on the porch, resulting in a
+terrific appetite.
+
+A glance at the watch shows nine o'clock. Sunday breakfast is usually
+at eight-thirty. The warm aroma of coffee creeps in from the kitchen
+and, somewhere, _some one_ is baking muffins. This is awful! You
+suppose it feels something like this to be caught on an ice-floe
+without any food and so starve to death. Only there you can't smell
+coffee and muffins. You sneak into the dining-room and steal one of
+the property oranges from the side-board, but little Edgar sees you
+and sets up such a howl that you have to give it to him. The hostess
+suggests that your friend may have the sleeping-sickness. Weakened by
+hunger, you hotly resent this, and one word leads to another.
+
+"Oh, very well, I'll go up and rout him out," you snarl.
+
+[Illustration: "'Hello. Bill,' you say flatly."]
+
+Upstairs again, and poise, in listening attitude, just in front of the
+guest's door. Slowly the door opens, inch by inch, and, finally his
+head is edged cautiously out toward yours.
+
+"Hello, Bill," you say flatly, "what are you getting up this time of
+the morning for? Thought I told you to sleep late."
+
+"Morning, Ed," he says, equally flatly, "hope I haven't kept you all
+waiting." Then you both lie and eat breakfast.
+
+Such a misunderstanding is apt to go to almost any length. I once knew
+of a man on a week-end visit who spent an entire Sunday in his room,
+listening at his door to see if the family were astir, while, in the
+meantime, the family were, one by one, tip-toeing to his door to see
+if they could detect any signs of life from him.
+
+Each thought the other needed rest.
+
+Along about three in the afternoon the family threw all hospitality
+aside and ate breakfast, deadening the sound of the cutlery as much as
+possible, little dreaming that their guest was looking through the "A
+Prayer for Each Day" calendar for the ninth time and seriously
+considering letting himself down from the window on a sheet and making
+for the next train. Shortly after dark persistent rumors got abroad
+that he had done away with himself, and every one went up and sniffed
+for gas. It was only when the maid, who was not in on the secret,
+bolted into the room to turn down his bed for the night, that she
+found him tip-toeing about, packing and unpacking his bag and
+listening eagerly at the wall. (Now don't ask how it happened that the
+maid didn't know that his bed hadn't been made that morning. What
+difference does it make, anyway? It is such questions as _that_, that
+blight any attempt at individual writing in this country.)
+
+Don't think, just because I have taken all this space to deal with the
+rising-hour problem that there are no other points to be made. Oh, not
+at all. There is, for instance, the question of exercise. After dinner
+the host says to himself: "Something must be done. I wonder if he
+likes to walk." Aloud, he says: "Well, Bill, how about a little hike
+in the country?"
+
+A hike in the country being the last thing in the world that Bill
+wants, he says, "Right-o! Anything you say." And so, although walking
+is a tremendous trial to the host, who has weak ankles, he bundles up
+with a great show of heartiness and grabs his stick as if this were
+the one thing he lived for.
+
+After about a mile of hobbling along the country-road the host says,
+hopefully: "Don't let me tire you out, old man. Any time you want to
+turn back, just say the word."
+
+The guest, thinking longingly of the fireside, scoffs at the idea of
+turning back, insisting that if there is one thing in all the world
+that he likes better than walking it is running. So on they jog,
+hippity-hop, hippity-hop, each wishing that it would rain so that they
+could turn about and go home.
+
+Here again the thing may go to almost tragic lengths. Suppose neither
+has the courage to suggest the return move. They might walk on into
+Canada, or they might become exhausted and have to be taken into a
+roadhouse and eat a "$2 old-fashioned Southern dinner of fried chicken
+and waffles." The imagination revolts at a further contemplation of
+the possibilities of this lack of coöperation between guest and host.
+
+[Illustration: "So on they jog.... Each wishing that it would rain."]
+
+I once visited a man who had an outdoor swimming-pool on his estate.
+(Consider that as very casually said.) It was in April, long before
+Spring had really understood what was expected of her. My first night
+there my host said:
+
+"Are you a morning plunger?"
+
+Thinking that he referred to a tub plunge in a warm bathroom, I glowed
+and said: "You bet."
+
+"I'll call for you at seven in the morning, then," he said, "and we'll
+go out to the pool."
+
+It was evidently his morning custom and I wasn't going to have it said
+of me that a middle-aged man could outdo me in virility. So, at seven
+in the morning, in a dense fog (with now and then a slash of cold
+rain), we picked our way out to the pool and staged a vivid Siberian
+moving picture scene, showing naked peasants bathing in the Nevsky. My
+visit lasted five days, and I afterward learned, from one to whom my
+host had confided, that it was the worst five days he had ever gone
+through, and that he has chronic joint-trouble as a result of those
+plunges. "But I couldn't be outdone by a mere stripling," he said,
+"and the boy certainly enjoyed it."
+
+All of this might have been avoided by the posting of a sign in a
+conspicuous place in my bedroom, reading as follows: "Personally, I
+dislike swimming in the pool at this time of the year. Guests wishing
+to do so may obtain towels at the desk." How very simple and
+practical!
+
+The sign system is the only solution I can offer. It is crude and
+brutal, but it admits of no misunderstanding. A sign in each
+guest-room, giving the hours of meals, political and religious
+preferences of the family, general views on exercise, etc., etc., with
+a blank for the guest to fill out, stating his own views on these
+subjects, would make it possible to visit (or entertain) with a sense
+of security thus far unknown upon our planet.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+GARDENING NOTES
+
+
+During the past month almost every paper, with the exception of the
+agricultural journals, has installed an agricultural department,
+containing short articles by Lord Northcliffe, or some one else in the
+office who had an unoccupied typewriter, telling the American citizen
+how to start and hold the interest of a small garden. The seed
+catalogue has become the catechism of the patriot, and, if you don't
+like to read the brusk, prosy directions on planting as given there,
+you may find the same thing done in verse in your favorite poetry
+magazine, or a special department in _The Plumbing Age_ under the
+heading "The Plumber's Garden: How and When to Plant."
+
+But all of these editorial suggestions appear to be conducted by
+professionals for the benefit of the layman, which seems to me to be a
+rather one-sided way of going about the thing. Obviously the
+suggestions should come from a layman himself, in the nature of
+warnings to others.
+
+I am qualified to put forth such an article because of two weeks'
+service in my own back yard, doing my bit for Peter Henderson and
+planting all sorts of things in the ground without the slightest
+expectation of ever seeing anything of any of them again. If, by any
+chance, a sprout should show itself, unmistakably the result of one of
+my plantings, I would be willing to be quoted as saying that Nature
+_is_ wonderful. In fact, I would take it as a personal favor, and
+would feel that anything that I might do in the future for Nature
+would be little enough in return for the special work she went to all
+the trouble of doing for me. But all of this is on condition that
+something of mine grows into manhood. Otherwise, Nature can go her way
+and I go mine, just as we have gone up till now.
+
+However, although I am an amateur, I shall have to adopt, in my
+writing, the tone of a professional, or I shall never get any one to
+believe what I say. If, therefore, from now on I sound a bit cold and
+unfriendly, you will realize that a professional agricultural writer
+has to have _some_ dignity about his stuff, and that beneath my rough
+exterior I am a pleasant enough sort of person to meet socially.
+
+
+_Preparing the Ground for the Garden_
+
+This is one of the most important things that the young gardener is
+called upon to do. In fact, a great many young gardeners never do
+anything further. Some inherited weakness, something they never
+realized they had before, may crop out during this process: weak back,
+tendency of shoulder-blades to ossification, misplacement of several
+important vertebræ, all are apt to be discovered for the first time
+during the course of one day's digging. If, on the morning following
+the first attempt to prepare the ground for planting, you are able to
+walk in a semi-erect position as far as the bathtub (and, without
+outside assistance, lift one foot into the water), you may flatter
+yourself that you are, joint for joint, in as perfect condition as
+the man in the rubber-heels advertisements.
+
+[Illustration: "If you are able to walk as far as the bathtub..."]
+
+Authorities differ as to the best way of digging. All agree that
+it is impossible to avoid walking about during the following week as
+if you were impersonating an old colored waiter with the lumbago; but
+there are two schools, each with its own theory, as to the less
+painful method. One advocates bending over, without once raising up,
+until the whole row is dug. The others, of whom I must confess that I
+am one, feel that it is better to draw the body to a more or less
+erect position after each shovelful. In support of this contention,
+Greitz, the well-known authority on the muscles of the back, says on
+page 233 of his "Untersuchungen über Sittlichkeitsdelikte und
+Gesellschaftsbiologie":
+
+"The constant tightening and relaxing of the _latissimus dorsi_
+effected in raising the body as the earth is tossed aside, has a
+tendency to relieve the strain by distributing it equally among the
+_serratus posticus inferior_ and the corner of Thirty-fourth Street."
+He then goes on to say practically what I have said above.
+
+The necessity for work of such a strenuous nature in the mere
+preliminaries of the process of planting a garden is due to the fact
+that the average back-yard has, up till the present time, been
+behaving less like a garden than anything else in the world. You might
+think that a back-yard, possessed of an ordinary amount of decency and
+civic-pride would, at some time during its career, have said to
+itself:
+
+"Now look here! I may some day be called upon to be a garden, and the
+least I can do is to get myself into some sort of shape, so that, when
+the time comes, I will be fairly ready to receive a seed or two."
+
+But no! Year in and year out they have been drifting along in a fools'
+paradise, accumulating stones and queer, indistinguishable cans and
+things, until they were prepared to become anything, quarries,
+iron-mines, notion-counters,--anything but gardens.
+
+I have saved in a box all the things that I have dug from my
+back-yard, and, when I have them assembled, all I will need will
+be a good engine to make them into a pretty fairly decent
+runabout,--nothing elaborate, mind you, but good enough to run the
+family out in on Sunday afternoons.
+
+And then there are lots of other things that wouldn't even fit into
+the runabout. Queer-looking objects, they are; things that perhaps in
+their hey-dey were rather stunning, but which have now assumed an air
+of indifference, as if to say, "Oh, call me anything, old fellow,
+Ice-pick, Mainspring, Cigar-lighter, anything, I don't care." I tell
+you, it's enough to make a man stop and think. But there, I mustn't
+get sentimental.
+
+In preparing the soil for planting, you will need several tools.
+Dynamite would be a beautiful thing to use, but it would have a
+tendency to get the dirt into the front-hall and track up the stairs.
+This not being practicable, there is no other way but for you to get
+at it with a fork (oh, don' be silly), a spade, and a rake. If you
+have an empty and detached furnace boiler, you might bring that along
+to fill with the stones you will dig up. If it is a small garden, you
+ought not to have to empty the boiler more than three or four times.
+Any neighbor who is building a stone house will be glad to contract
+with you for the stones, and those that are left over after he has got
+his house built can be sold to another neighbor who is building
+another stone house. Your market is limited only by the number of
+neighbors who are building stone houses.
+
+On the first day, when you find yourself confronted by a stretch of
+untouched ground which is to be turned over (technical phrase, meaning
+to "turn over"), you may be somewhat at a loss to know where to begin.
+Such indecision is only natural, and should cause no worry on the
+part of the young gardener. It is something we all have to go through
+with. You may feel that it would be futile and unsystematic to go
+about digging up a forkful here and a shovelful there, tossing the
+earth at random, in the hope that in due time you will get the place
+dug up. And so it would.
+
+The thing to do is to decide just where you want your garden, and what
+its dimensions are to be. This will have necessitated a previous
+drawing up of a chart, showing just what is to be planted and where.
+As this chart will be the cause of considerable hard feeling in the
+family circle, usually precipitating a fist-fight over the number of
+rows of onions to be set out, I will not touch on that in this
+article. There are some things too intimate for even a professional
+agriculturist to write of. I will say, however, that those in the
+family who are standing out for onions might much better save their
+time and feelings by pretending to give in, and then, later in the
+day, sneaking out and slipping the sprouts in by themselves in some
+spot where they will know where to find them again.
+
+Having decided on the general plan and dimensions of the plot, gather
+the family about as if for a corner-stone dedication, and then make a
+rather impressive ceremony of driving in the first stake by getting
+your little boy to sing the first twelve words of some patriotic air.
+(If he doesn't know the first twelve, any twelve will do. The idea is
+to keep the music going during the driving of the stake.)
+
+[Illustration: "Make a rather impressive ceremony of driving the first
+stake."]
+
+The stake is to be driven at an imaginary corner of what is to be your
+garden, and a string stretched to another stake at another imaginary
+corner, and there you have a line along which to dig. This will be a
+big comfort. You will feel that at last you have something tangible.
+Now all that remains is to turn the ground over, harrow it, smooth it
+up nice and neat, plant your seeds, cultivate them, thin out your
+plants and pick the crops.
+
+It may seem that I have spent most of my time in advice on preparing
+the ground for planting. Such may well be the case, as that was as far
+as I got. I then found a man who likes to do those things and whose
+doctor has told him that he ought to be out of doors all the time. He
+is an Italian, and charges really very little when you consider what
+he accomplishes. Any further advice on starting and keeping up a
+garden, I shall have to get him to write for you.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+LESSON NUMBER ONE
+
+
+Frankly, I am not much of a hand at machinery of any sort. I have no
+prejudice against it as such, for some of my best friends are of a
+mechanical turn of mind, and very nice fellows they are too. But the
+pencil sharpener in our office is about as far as I, personally, have
+ever got in the line of operating a complicated piece of mechanism
+with any degree of success.
+
+So, when George suggested that he teach me to run his car, it seemed a
+reasonable proposition. Obviously, _some one_ had to teach me. I
+couldn't be expected to go out and pick the thing up by myself, like
+learning to eat olives. No matter how well-intentioned I might be, or
+how long I stuck at it, the chances are that I never could learn to
+drive a car simply by sitting in the seat alone and fooling around
+among the gadgets until I found the right ones. Something would be
+sure to happen to spoil the whole thing long before I got the hang of
+it.
+
+The car was, therefore, brought out into the driveway at the side of
+the house, like a bull being led into the ring for a humid afternoon
+with the matador. It was right here that George began to show his true
+colors, for he stopped the engine, which was running very nicely as it
+was, and said that I might as well begin by learning to crank it, as I
+probably would spend seven-eighths of my driving time cranking in the
+future.
+
+I didn't like this in George. It showed that he wasn't going about it
+in the right spirit. He was beginning with the assumption that I would
+make a dub of myself, and, as I was already beginning to assume the
+same thing, it looked rather black for the lesson, with both parties
+to it holding the same pessimistic thought.
+
+So, right off the bat, I said:
+
+"No, George. It seems to me that you ought to crank it yourself.
+To-day I am learning to _drive_ the car. 'One thing at a time' is my
+motto. That is what has brought our modern industrial system to its
+present state of efficiency: the Division of Labor--one man who does
+nothing but make holes in washers, another who does nothing but slip
+the washers over the dinguses over which they belong; one man who
+devotes his whole time to running a car, another who specializes in
+cranking it. Now, in the early days of industry, when the guild was
+the unit of organization among the workers--"
+
+George, having cranked the engine, motioned me into the driver's seat,
+and took his position beside me. It struck me that the thing was very
+poorly arranged, in that the place which was to be occupied by the
+driver, obviously the most important person in the car (except, of
+course, the lady member of the party in the tonneau, who holds the
+bluebook and gives wrong directions as to turnings), was all cluttered
+up with a lot of apparatus and pedals and things, so much so that I
+had to inhale and contract in order to squeeze past the wheel into my
+seat. And even then I was forced to stretch one leg out so far that I
+kicked a little gadget on a box arrangement on the dashboard, which
+apparently stopped the engine. As he cranked it again, George said,
+among other things, that it couldn't possibly have been done except on
+purpose, and that he could take a joke as well as the next man, but
+that, good night, what was the use of being an ass?
+
+As if I, with no mechanical instinct whatever, knew what was in that
+box! I don't know even now, and I have got my driver's license.
+
+George finally got things stirring again and climbed in, leaving the
+door partly open no doubt in order that, in case of emergency, he
+could walk, not run, to the street via the nearest exit.
+
+"The gear set of this car is of the planetary type," he said, by way
+of opening the seminar, while the motor behaved as if it were trying
+to jiggle its way out from under the cushions and bite me. "This
+planetary system gives two forward speeds and a reverse motion."
+
+[Illustration: "George said that he could take a joke, but that, good
+night! what was the use of being an ass?"]
+
+"Nothing could be fairer than that. It sounds like an almost perfect
+arrangement to me," I said, to show that I was listening. And then, to
+show that I was thinking about the thing as well, I asked: "But surely
+you don't have to pedal the thing along yourself by foot power! All
+those pedals down there would seem to leave very little for the
+gasoline power to do."
+
+"Those three pedals are what do the trick," explained George. And then
+he added ominously: "If you should step on that left-hand one now, you
+would throw in your clutch."
+
+"Please, George, don't get morbid," I protested. "I'm nervous enough
+as it is, without having to worry about my own bodily safety."
+
+"The middle pedal, marked 'R,' is the reverse, and the one at the
+right, marked 'B,' is the foot brake. Now, when you want to start--"
+
+"Just a minute, please," I said sternly. "You skip over those as if
+there were something about them you were a little ashamed of, George.
+Are you keeping something from me about the reverse and the foot
+brake?"
+
+"I didn't know but that somewhere in your valuable college course they
+taught you what 'reverse' meant, and I was sure that your little son
+had told you all about the foot brake on his express wagon," said
+George, waxing sarcastic in the manner of the technical man that he
+is.
+
+"I don't want you to take anything for granted in teaching me to run
+this thing," I replied. "It is those little things that count, you
+know, and I would feel just as badly as you would if I were to run
+your car over a cliff into a rocky gorge because of some detail that I
+was uninformed about. You know that, George."
+
+"Very well," he said, "I'll get down to fundamentals. When you push
+the reverse pedal, you drive the car in the opposite direction from
+that in which it is headed. This is done by tightening the external
+contracting clutch bands which are between the gearing and the disk
+clutch."
+
+Somehow this struck me as funny. The idea of reversing by tightening
+_any_ bands at all, much less external contracting ones, was the one
+thing needed to send me off into roars of laughter. The whole thing
+seemed so flat, after the excitement of the war, and everything.
+
+Naturally George didn't get it. It was 'way over his head, and I knew
+that there would be no use trying to explain it to him. So I just
+continued to chuckle and murmur: "External contracting clutch bands!
+You'll be the death of me yet, George!"
+
+But I felt that, as the minutes went by, the situation was getting
+strained. My instructor and I were growing farther and farther apart
+in spirit, and, after all, it was his car and he was going to
+considerable trouble to teach me to run it, and the least that I could
+do would be to take him seriously, whether the thing struck me as
+being sensible or not.
+
+So I calmed myself with some effort, and tried to bring the
+conversation around to an opening for him to begin with further
+explanations.
+
+"But, all joking aside, George, how can you be so sure about these
+things? You say that when you push the reverse pedal you tighten the
+external contracting clutch bands. Did you ever see them tighten? Or
+were you taking some one's word for it? Remember how the German people
+were deceived for years by their rulers! Now supposing--just
+supposing--that it had been to some unscrupulous person's advantage to
+make you think that the--"
+
+"Now, listen, Bob," said George (my name _is_ Bob, and I see no reason
+why, simply because I am writing a piece about myself, I should make
+believe that my name is Stuart or Will, especially as it is right
+there in black and white at the head of the story. This assuming new
+names on the part of authors is a literary affectation which ought to
+be done away with once and for all). "Now, listen, Bob," said George,
+very quietly and very distinctly, "the only thing for you to do if you
+are going to learn to run this thing, is to get right down to brass
+tacks and _run_ it, and the sooner you try it, the better."
+
+"Oh, you practical guys!" I said. "Nothing will do but you must
+always be getting down to brass tacks. It's men like you who are
+driving all the poetry out of the world."
+
+"You flatter me," said George, reaching bruskly across me as if he
+were after the salt and pepper, and adjusting a couple of dingbats on
+the steering wheel. "This here is the spark, and this is the throttle.
+The throttle governs the gas supply, and the spark regulates the--eh,
+well, it regulates the spark."
+
+"What won't these scientists think up next?" I marveled. "It's
+uncanny, that's what it is--uncanny."
+
+"_Now_, then: hold your foot on the clutch pedal and keep her in
+neutral, while you shove your hand lever forward as far as it will go.
+_That's_ right!... That's fine ... 'way forward ... now ... _that's_
+right ... that's fine!"
+
+I was so encouraged by the way things seemed to be going that I took
+all my feet away from all the things they were stepping on, and
+sighed:
+
+"Let's rest a minute, old man. I'm all of a tremble. It's much easier
+than I thought, but I'd rather take it stage by stage than to dash
+right off the first thing."
+
+The trouble seemed to be that, in lifting my feet, I had discouraged
+the motor, which sighed and stopped functioning, giving the car a
+playful shake, like an Erie local stopping at Babbitt (N.J.) on
+signal. So George said that, in the future, no matter how well things
+seemed to be going, never to give in to my emotions again, but keep
+right on working, even though it looked as if I were in danger of
+becoming an expert driver in three minutes. There is always something
+to learn, he said. Then he got out and cranked the engine.
+
+We went through the same process again, only I kept my foot on the vox
+humana pedal until I had crammed it 'way into fortissimo. Then
+suddenly a wonderful thing happened. The whole thing--car, engine,
+George, and I--began to move, all together. It was a big moment in my
+life. I could see the headlines in the evening papers:
+
+    YOUNG SCRIBE OVERCOMES NATURAL LAWS
+      Causes Auto to Move by Pushing Pedal
+
+But this elation was for only a moment. For, while we had been
+arguing, some one had sneaked up in front of us and transplanted the
+hydrangea bush from the lawn at our side to the very middle of the
+driveway, a silly place for a hydrangea bush at best, but an
+absolutely fatal one at the moment when an automobile was being driven
+through the yard.
+
+It was but the work of a second for me to sense the danger. It was but
+the work of half a second, however, for us to be rustling our way
+slowly and lumberingly into the luxuriant foliage of the bush. So I
+was just about half a second late, which I do not consider bad for a
+beginner.
+
+"Put on your brake!" shouted George.
+
+Quick as a wink (one of those long sensuous winks) I figured out which
+the brake was, by finding the symbolical "B" on the pedal. Like a
+trained mechanician I stepped on it.
+
+"Release your clutch first, you poor fish!" screamed George, above the
+horrible grinding noise. "Release your clutch!"
+
+This was more than flesh and blood could bear. Again I relieved my
+feet from any responsibility in the affair, and turned to my
+instructor.
+
+"Don't _shout_ so!" I yelled back at him. "And don't keep calling it
+_my_ clutch! It may be because I was brought up in a Puritan family,
+but the whole subject of clutches is a closed book to me. If it is
+something I should know about, you can tell me when we get in the
+house. But, for the present, let's drop the matter. At any rate, I
+stopped your darn car, clutch, or no clutch."
+
+And so I had. There we were, in the middle of the hydrangea bush, very
+quiet and peaceful, like a couple of birds in a bird house atop of
+rustling oak (or maple, for that matter). Even the engine had stopped.
+
+I reached out and plucked a blossom that was peeking over the
+dashboard where the whip socket should have been. After all, there is
+no place like the country. I said so to George, and he tacitly agreed.
+At least, I took it to be agreement. It was certainly tacit. I was
+afraid that he was a little hurt over what I had said about the
+clutch, and so I decided that it might be best not to mention the
+subject again. In fact, it seemed wiser to get away from the topic of
+automobiles entirely. So I said softly:
+
+"George, did it ever occur to you how the war has changed our daily
+life? Not only have we had to alter our methods of provisioning our
+tables and feeding our families, but we have acquired a certain
+detachment of mind, a certain new sufficiency of spirit."
+
+(We had both alighted from the car and had placed ourselves, one on
+each side, to roll it out of the embraces of the hydrangea bush.)
+
+"I have been reading a book during the past week on Problems of
+Reconstruction," I continued, "and I have been impressed by the
+thought which is being given to the development of the waste lands in
+the West."
+
+[Illustration: "After all, there is no place like the country. I said
+so to George, and he tacilty agreed."]
+
+(We had, by this time, got the car rolled out into the driveway
+again.)
+
+"The problem of the children, too, is an absorbing one for the years
+which lie ahead of us. We cannot go back to the old methods of child
+training, any more than we can go back to the old methods of
+diplomacy. The war has created a hiatus. That which follows will
+depend on the zeal with which America applies herself to her task of
+rehabilitation."
+
+(The machine was now moored in her parking space by the porte-cochère,
+and the brakes applied.)
+
+"It seems to me that we are living in a great period of transition;
+doesn't it look that way to you, George?"
+
+"Yes," said George.
+
+And so we went into the house.
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+THOUGHTS ON FUEL SAVING
+
+
+Considerable space has been given in the magazines and newspapers this
+winter to official and expert directions on How to Run Your Furnace
+and Save Coal--as if the two things were compatible. Some had
+accompanying diagrams of a furnace in its normal state, showing the
+exact position of the arteries and vitals, with arrows pointing in
+interesting directions, indicating the theoretical course of the heat.
+
+I have given some time to studying these charts, and have come to the
+conclusion that when the authors of such articles and I speak the word
+"furnace," we mean entirely different things. They are referring to
+some idealized, sublimated creation; perhaps the "furnace" which
+existed originally in the mind of Horace W. Furnace, the inventor;
+while, on the other hand, I am referring to the thing that is in my
+cellar. No wonder that I can't understand their diagrams.
+
+For my own satisfaction, therefore, I have drawn up a few regulations
+which I can understand, and have thrown them together most informally
+for whatever they may be worth. Any one else who has checked up the
+official furnace instructions with Life as it really is and has found
+something wrong somewhere may go as far as he likes with the results
+of my researches. I give them to the world.
+
+Saving coal is, just now, the chief concern of most householders, for
+we are now entering that portion of the solstice when it is beginning
+to be necessary to walk some distance into the bin after the coal.
+When first the list of official admonitions were issued, early in the
+season, it was hard to believe that they ever would be needed. The bin
+was so full that it resembled a drug-store window piled high with
+salted peanuts. (As a matter of actual fact, there is probably nothing
+that coal looks _less_ like than salted peanuts, but the effect of
+tremendous quantity was the same.) Adventurous pieces were fairly
+popping out of confinement and rolling over the cellar. It seemed as
+if there were enough coal there to give the _Leviathan_ a good run for
+her money and perhaps take her out as far as Bedloe Island. A fig for
+coal-saving devices!
+
+But now the season is well on, and the bad news is only too apparent.
+The householder, as he finds himself walking farther and farther into
+the bin after the next shovelful, realizes that soon will come the
+time when it will be necessary to scrape the leavings into a corner,
+up against the side of the bin, and to coal his fire, piece by piece,
+between his finger and thumb, while waiting for the dealer to deliver
+that next load, "right away, probably to-day, to-morrow at the
+latest."
+
+It is therefore essential that we turn constructive thought to the
+subject of coal conservation. I would suggest, in the first place, an
+exact aim in shoveling coal into the fire box.
+
+By this I mean the cultivation of an exact aim in shoveling coal into
+the fire box. In my own case (if I may be permitted to inject the
+personal element into this article for one second), I know that it
+often happens that, when I have a large shovelful of coal in readiness
+for the fire, and the door to the fire box open as wide as it will go,
+there may be, nevertheless, the variation of perhaps an eighth of an
+inch between the point where the shovel should have ended the arc in
+its forward swing and the point at which it actually stops. In less
+technical phraseology, I sometimes tick the edge of the shovel against
+the threshold of the fire box, instead of shooting it over as should
+be done. Now, as I usually take a rather long, low swing, with
+considerable power behind it (if I do say so), the sudden contact of
+the shovel with the threshold results in a forceful projection of the
+many pieces of coal (and whatever else it is that comes with the coal
+for good measure) into all corners of the cellar. I have seen coal fly
+from my shovel under such circumstances with such velocity as to land
+among the preserves at the other end of the cellar and in the opposite
+direction from which I was facing.
+
+[Illustration: "In less technical language, I sometimes tick the edge
+of the shovel against the threshold of the fire box."]
+
+Now, this is obviously a waste of coal. It would be impossible to
+stoop all about the cellar picking up the vagrant pieces that had
+flown away, even if the blow of the shovel against the furnace had
+not temporarily paralyzed your hand and caused you to devote your
+entire attention to the coining of new and descriptive word pictures.
+
+I would suggest, for this trouble, the taking of a "stance" in front
+of the fire box, with perhaps chalk markings for guidance of the feet
+at just the right distance away. Then a series of preparatory swings,
+as in driving off in golf, first with the empty shovel, then with a
+gradually increasing amount of coal. The only danger in this would be
+that you might bring the handle of the shovel back against an ash can
+or something behind you and thus spill about as much coal as before.
+But there, there--if you are going to borrow trouble like that, you
+might as well give up right now.
+
+Another mishap of a somewhat similar nature occurs when a shovelful of
+ashes from under the grate is hit against the projecting shaker,
+causing the ashes to scatter over the floor and the shoes. This is a
+very discouraging thing to have happen, for, as the ashes are quite
+apt to contain at least three or four pieces of unburnt coal, it means
+that those pieces are as good as lost unless you have time to hunt
+them up. It also means shining the shoes again.
+
+I find that an efficacious preventive for this is to take the shaker
+off when it is not in use and stand it in the corner. There the worst
+thing that it can do is to fall over against your shins when you are
+rummaging around for the furnace-bath-brush among the rest of the
+truck that hangs on the wall.
+
+And, by the way, there are at least two pieces of long-handled
+equipment hanging on my cellar wall (items in the estate of the former
+tenant, who must have been a fancier of some sort) whose use I have
+never been able to figure out. I have tried them on various parts of
+the furnace at one time or another, but, as there is not much of
+anything that one on the outside of a furnace can do but _poke_, it
+seems rather silly to have half a dozen niblick-pokers and
+midiron-pokers with which to do it. One of these, resembling in shape
+a bridge, such as is used on all occasions by novices at pool, I
+experimented with one night and got it so tightly caught in back of
+the grate somewhere that I had to let the fire go out and take the
+dead coals out, piece by piece, through the door in order to get at
+the captive instrument and release it. And, of course, all this
+experimenting wasted coal.
+
+The shaker is, however, an important factor in keeping the furnace
+going, for it is practically the only recourse in dislodging clinkers
+which have become stuck in the grate--that is, unless you can kick
+the furnace hard enough to shake them down. I have, in moments when, I
+am afraid, I was not quite myself, kicked the furnace with
+considerable force, but I never could see that it had any effect on
+the clinker. This, however, is no sign that it can't be done. I would
+be the first one to wish a man well who did it.
+
+But, ordinarily, the shaker is the accepted agent for teaching the
+clinker its place. And, in the fancy assorted coal in vogue this
+season (one-third coal, one-third slate, and one-third rock candy)
+clinkers are running the combustible matter a slightly better than
+even race. This problem is, therefore, one which must be faced.
+
+I find that a great deal of satisfaction, if not tangible results, can
+be derived from personifying the furnace and the recalcitrant clinker,
+and endowing them with human attributes, such as fear, chagrin, and
+susceptibility to physical and mental pain. In this fanciful manner
+the thing can be talked to as if it were a person, in this way lending
+a zest to the proceedings which would be entirely lacking in a contest
+with an inanimate object.
+
+Thus, when it is discovered that the grate is stuck, you can say,
+_sotto voce_:
+
+"Ho, ho! you *********! So that's your game, is it?"
+
+(I would not attempt to dictate the particular epithets. Each man
+knows so much better than any one else just what gives him the most
+comfort in this respect that it would be presumptuous to lay down any
+formula. Personally, I have a wonderful set of remarks and proper
+names which I picked up one summer from a lobster man in Maine, which
+for soul-satisfying blasphemy are absolutely unbeatable. I will be
+glad to furnish this set to any one sending a stamped, self-addressed
+envelope.)
+
+You then seize the shaker with both hands and give it a vicious yank,
+muttering between your teeth:
+
+"We'll see, my fine fellow! We'll see!"
+
+This is usually very effective in weakening the morale of the clinker,
+for it then realizes right at the start that it is pitted against a
+man who is not to be trifled with.
+
+This should be followed by several short and powerful yanks,
+punctuated on the catch of each stroke with a muttered: "You
+*********!"
+
+If you are short of wind, the force of this ejaculation may diminish
+as the yanks increase in number, in which case it will be well to rest
+for a few seconds.
+
+At this point a little strategy may be brought to bear. You can turn
+away, as if you were defeated, perhaps saying loudly, so that the
+clinker can hear: "Ho-hum! Well, I guess I'll call it a day," and
+pretend to start upstairs.
+
+Then, quick as a wink, you should turn and leap back at the shaker,
+and, before the thing can recover from its surprise, give it a yank
+which will either rip it from its moorings or cause your own vertebræ
+to change places with a sharp click. It is a fifty-fifty chance.
+
+[Illustration: "Quick as a wink you should turn and leap back at the
+shaker."]
+
+But great caution should be observed before trying these heroic
+measures to make sure that the pins which hold the shaker in place are
+secure. A loosened pin will stand just so much shaking, and then it
+will unostentatiously work its way out and look around for something
+else to do. This always causes an awkward situation, for the yank next
+following the walkout of the pin, far from accomplishing its purpose
+of dispossessing the clinker, will precipitate you over backward among
+the ash cans with a viciousness in which it is impossible not to
+detect something personal.
+
+Immediately following such a little upset to one's plans, it is
+perhaps the natural impulse to arise in somewhat of a pet and to set
+about exacting punitive indemnities. This does not pay in the end. If
+you hit any exposed portion of the furnace with the shaker the chances
+are that you will break it, which, while undoubtedly very painful to
+the furnace at the time, would eventually necessitate costly repairs.
+And, if you throw coal at it, you waste coal. This, if you remember,
+is an article on how to save coal.
+
+Another helpful point is to prevent the fire from going out. This may
+be accomplished in one way that I am sure of. That is, by taking a
+book, or a ouija board, or some other indoor entertainment downstairs
+and sitting two feet away from the furnace all day, being relieved by
+your wife at night (or, needless to say, vice versa). I have never
+known this method of keeping the fire alive to fail, except when the
+watcher dropped off to sleep for ten or fifteen minutes. This is
+plenty of time for a raging fire to pass quietly away, and I can prove
+it.
+
+Of course this treatment cuts in on your social life, but I know of
+nothing else that is infallible. I know of nothing else that can
+render impossible that depressing foreboding given expression by your
+wife when she says: "Have you looked at the fire lately? It's getting
+chilly here," followed by the apprehensive trip downstairs, eagerly
+listening for some signs of caloric life from within the
+asbestos-covered tomb; the fearful pause before opening the door,
+hoping against hope that the next move will disclose a ruddy glow
+which can easily be nursed back to health, but feeling, in the
+intuitive depths of your soul, that you might just as well begin
+crumpling up last Sunday's paper to ignite, for the Grim Reaper has
+passed this way.
+
+And then the cautious pull at the door, opening it inch by inch, until
+the bitter truth is disclosed--a yawning cavern of blackness with the
+dull, gray outlines of consumed coals in the foreground, a dismal
+double-play: ashes to ashes.
+
+These little thoughts on furnace tending and coal conservation are not
+meant to be taken as in any sense final. Some one else may have found
+the exact converse to be true; in which case he would do well to make
+a scientific account of it as I have done. It helps to buy coal.
+
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+NOT ACCORDING TO HOYLE
+
+
+I have just finished reading an article by an expert in auction
+bridge, and it has left me in a cold sweat. As near as I can make out,
+it presupposes that every one who plays bridge knows what he is doing
+before he does it, which simply means that I have been going along all
+this time working on exactly the wrong theory. It may incidentally
+explain why I have never been voted the most popular bridge player in
+Wimblehurst or presented with a loving cup by admiring members of the
+Neighborhood Club.
+
+Diametrically opposed to the system of "think-before-you-play,"
+advocated by this expert, my game has been built up purely on
+intuition. I rely almost entirely on the inner promptings of the
+moment in playing a card. I don't claim that there is anything
+spiritualistic about it, for it does not work out with consistent
+enough success to be in any way uncanny. As a matter of fact, it
+causes me a lot of trouble. When one relies on instinct to remind one
+of what the trumps are, or how many of them have been played, there
+is bound to be a slip-up every so often.
+
+But what chagrins me, after reading the expert's article, is the
+thought that all this while I may have been playing with people who
+were actually thinking the thing out beforehand in a sordid sort of
+way, counting the trumps played and figuring on who had the queen or
+where the ten-spot lay. I didn't think there were such people in the
+world.
+
+Here I have been going ahead, in an honest, hail-fellow-well-met mood,
+sometimes following suit, sometimes trumping my partner's trick,
+always taking it for granted that the idea was to get the hand played
+as quickly as possible in order to talk it over and tell each other
+how it might have been done differently.
+
+It is true that, now and again, I have noticed sharp looks directed at
+me by my various partners, but I have usually attributed them to a
+little mannerism I have of humming softly while playing, and I have
+always stopped humming whenever my partner showed signs of
+displeasure, being perfectly willing to meet any one halfway in an
+effort to make the evening a pleasant one for all concerned. But now I
+am afraid that perhaps the humming was only a minor offense. I am
+appalled at the thought of what really was the trouble.
+
+I should never have allowed myself to be dragged into it at all. My
+first big mistake was made when, in a moment of weakness, I consented
+to learn the game; for a man who can frankly say "I do not play
+bridge" is allowed to go over in the corner and run the pianola by
+himself, while the poor neophyte, no matter how much he may protest
+that he isn't "at all a good player, in fact, I'm perfectly rotten,"
+is never believed, but dragged into a game where it is discovered, too
+late, that he spoke the truth.
+
+[Illustration: "Attributed them to a little mannerism I have of
+humming softly while playing."]
+
+But it was a family affair at first. Dora belonged to a whist club
+which met every Friday afternoon on strictly partizan lines, except
+for once a year, when they asked the men in. My experience with this
+organization had been necessarily limited, as it held its sessions
+during my working hours. Once in a while, however, I would get home in
+time to meet in the front hall the stragglers who were just leaving,
+amid a general searching for furs and over-shoes, and for some
+unaccountable reason I usually felt very foolish on such occasions.
+Certainly I had a right, under the Common Law, to be coming in my own
+front door, but I always had a sneaking feeling, there in the midst of
+the departing guests, that the laugh was on me.
+
+One Friday, when I was confined to my room with a touch of neuralgia
+(it was in my face, if you are interested, and the whole right side
+swelled up until it was twice its normal size--I'd like to tell you
+more about it some time), I could hear the sounds of carnival going on
+downstairs. The noises made by women playing bridge are distinctive.
+At first the listener is aware of a sort of preliminary conversational
+murmur, with a running accompaniment of shuffling pasteboards. Then
+follows an unnatural quiet, punctuated by the thud of jeweled knuckles
+or the clank of bracelets as the cards are played against the baize,
+with now and then little squeals of dismay or delight from some of the
+more demonstrative and an occasional "Good for you, partner!" from an
+appreciative dummy. Gradually, as the hand draws toward its close,
+there begins a low sound, like the murmurings of the stage mob in the
+wings, which rapidly increases, until the room is filled with a shrill
+chatter, resembling that in the Bird House in Central Park, from which
+there is distinguishable merely a wild medley:
+
+"If you had led me your queen--was so afraid she might trump in
+with--my dear, I didn't have a face card in my--threw away just the
+wrong--had the jack, 10, 9, and 7--thought Alice had the king--ace and
+three little ones--how about honors?--my dear, _simply_ frightful--if
+you had returned my lead--my _dear_!"
+
+This listening in at bridge, however, was the nearest I had ever been
+to the front, until it came time for the Friday Afternoon Club to let
+down the bars and have a Men's Night. I had no illusions about this
+"Men's Night," but it was a case of my learning to play bridge and
+accompanying Dora, or of her getting some man in from off the sidewalk
+to take my place, and I figured that it would cause less talk if I
+were there to play myself. As I think it over now, I feel that the
+strange-man scheme might have worked out with less comment being made
+than my playing drew down.
+
+But it was for this purpose that I allowed myself to be instructed in
+the rudiments of bridge. I had nothing permanent in mind in absorbing
+these principles, fully expecting to forget them again the day after
+the party. I miscalculated by about one day, it now seems.
+
+The expert, whose article has been such an inspiration to me, had some
+neat little diagrams drawn for him, showing just where the cards lay
+in the four hands, and with the players indicated as A, B, Y, and Z;
+apparently the same people, come up in the world, who, in our algebras
+some years ago, used to buy and sell apples to each other with
+feverish commercialism and to run races with all sorts of unfair
+handicaps. What a small world it is, after all!
+
+It seems to me, therefore, that, since this is a pretty fairly
+technical article, it might be well if I were to utilize the same
+diagrammatic device and terse method of description, to show the exact
+course of the first hand in which I participated at the party.
+
+A and B are our opponents, X my partner, and I (oddly enough) myself.
+A is Ralph Thibbets, one of those cool devils who think they know all
+about a game, and usually do. He has an irritating way of laying down
+his cards, when the hand is about half played, and saying: "Well, the
+rest are mine," and the most irritating part of it all is that, when
+you have insisted on figuring it out for yourself, he is found to be
+right. I disliked him from the first.
+
+B is Mrs. Lucas, who breathes hard and says nothing, but clanks her
+cards down with finality, seeming to say: "That for you!" She got me
+nervous.
+
+X, my partner, used to be a good friend of mine. And, so far as I am
+concerned, I would be perfectly willing to let bygones be bygones and
+be on friendly terms again.
+
+In utilizing the expert's method of description, I shall improve on it
+slightly by also indicating the conversation accompanying each play, a
+feature which is of considerable importance in a game.
+
+B deals, and finally makes it three diamonds, after X has tried to bid
+hearts without encouragement from me. I pass as a matter of principle,
+not being at all sure of this bidding proposition.
+
+I lead, with a clear field and no particular object in view, the 8 of
+diamonds. It looks as uncompromising as any card in my hand. "Leading
+_trumps_," says X with a raising of the eyebrows. "What do you know
+about that!" I exclaim. "I had forgotten that they were trumps. I must
+be asleep. Like the old Irishman when St. Peter asked him where he
+came from, and he said: 'Begorra--'" A cuts this story short by
+playing the 3 of diamonds; X, with some asperity, discards the 3 of
+spades, and B takes the trick with the 10-spot. Silence.
+
+"That story of the Irishman and St. Peter," I continue, "was told to
+me by a fellow in Buffalo last week who had just come from France. He
+said that while he was in a place called 'Mousong,' or 'Mousang,' he
+actually saw--"
+
+"Your play," says X. "Oh, I beg your pardon," I say, "whose jack of
+spades is that?" "Mine," says B, drumming on the table with her finger
+nails and looking about the room at the pictures. Having more poor
+diamonds than anything else in my hand, and aiming to get them out of
+the way as soon as possible to give the good cards a chance, I play
+the 5 of diamonds.
+
+"What, trumping it? Have you no spades?" shouts A. I can see that I
+have him rattled; so, although, as a matter of fact, I have got plenty
+of spades, I smile knowingly and sit tight. These smart Alecs make me
+sick, telling me what I should play and what I should not play. A
+accepts the inevitable and plays his 2-spot. X, considerably cheered
+up, plays the 4 and says: "Our trick, partner." I pick up the cards
+and mix them with those already in my hand, reverting, for the time,
+to poker tactics. This error, alone among all that I make during the
+game, is unobserved.
+
+"Well, I suppose that you people are all excited over that new baby up
+at your house," I say pleasantly to A, just to show him that I can be
+gracious in victory as well as in defeat. "Let's see, is it a boy or a
+girl?"
+
+"It's _your lead_!" he replies shortly.
+
+"I beg your pardon," I say; "I certainly must be asleep to-night."
+And, as my thumb is on the 5 of diamonds, I lead it.
+
+"Here, here!" says A, "wasn't it the 5 of diamonds that you trumped in
+with just a minute ago?" That man has second-sight. As a matter of
+fact, I suspect that there is something crooked about him. "Yes, it
+is," corroborates B in her longest speech of the evening. X says:
+"Where _is_ that trick that we took?" And then it is discovered that
+it has found its way into my hand, from which it is disentangled with
+considerable trouble and segregated. As for me, I pass the whole thing
+off as a joke.
+
+"I saw in the paper this morning," I began when the situation has
+become a little less complicated, "where a woman in Perth Amboy found
+a hundred dollars in the lining of an old lounge in--"
+
+[Illustration: "'Here, here!' says A, 'wasn't it the 5 of diamonds
+that you trumped in with just a minute ago?'"]
+
+"It's your lead, if you don't mind," says A very distinctly. "You have
+made only one false start out of a possible three. Try again." I
+pretend not to hear this sarcasm, and, just to show him that there is
+life in the old dog yet, I lead my ace of spades.
+
+"Look here, my dear sir!" says A, quite upset by now. "Only one hand
+ago you refused spades and trumped them. That revoking on your part
+gives us three tricks and we throw up the hand."
+
+"Fair enough," I retort cheerfully, "three is just what you bid, isn't
+it? Quite a coincidence, I call it," and with that I throw my cards on
+the table with considerable relief. Nothing good could have come of
+this hand, even if we had played until midnight.
+
+From all sides now arose the familiar sounds of the post-mortem: "I
+had the jack, 10, 9, and 7, all good, but I just couldn't get in with
+them.... If you had only led me your king, we could have set them at
+least two.... I knew that Grace had the queen, but I didn't dare try
+to finesse.... We had simple honors.... As soon as I saw you leading
+spades, I knew that there was nothing in it," etc., etc.
+
+But at our table there was no post-mortem. Not because there had been
+no death, but there seemed to be nothing to say about it. So we sat,
+marking down our scores, until Dora came up behind me and said: "Well,
+dear, how is your game coming on?"
+
+As no one else seemed about to speak, I said: "Oh, finely, I'm getting
+the hang of it in no time."
+
+My partner muttered something about hanging being too good, which
+seemed a bit uncalled for.
+
+And so I went through the evening, meeting new people and making new
+friends. And, owing to Dora's having neglected to teach me the details
+of score keeping, I had to make a system up for myself, with the
+result that I finished the evening with a total of 15,000 points on my
+card and won the first prize.
+
+"Beginner's luck," I called it with modest good nature.
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+FROM NINE TO FIVE
+
+
+One of the necessary qualifications of an efficient business man in
+these days of industrial literature seems to be the ability to write,
+in clear and idiomatic English, a 1,000-word story on how efficient he
+is and how he got that way. A glance through any one of our more racy
+commercial magazines will serve nicely to illustrate my point, for it
+was after glancing through one of them only five minutes ago that the
+point suggested itself to me.
+
+"What Is Making Our Business Grow;" "My $10,000 System of Carbon-Copy
+Hunting;" "Making the Turn-Over Turn In;" "If I Can Make My Pencil
+Sharpenings Work, Why Can't You?" "Getting Sales Out of Sahara," etc.,
+are some of the intriguing titles which catch the eye of the student
+of world affairs as he thumbs over the business magazines on the
+news-stands before buying his newspaper. It seems as if the entire
+business world were devoting its working hours to the creation of a
+school of introspective literature.
+
+But the trouble with these writers is that they are all successful.
+There is too much sameness to their stuff. They have their little
+troubles at first, it is true, such as lack of coördination in the
+central typing department, or congestion of office boys in the room
+where the water cooler is situated; but sooner or later you may be
+perfectly sure that Right will triumph and that the young salesman
+will bring in the order that puts the firm back on its feet again.
+They seem to have no imagination, these writers of business
+confessions. What the art needs is some Strindberg of Commerce to put
+down on paper the sordid facts of Life as they really are, and to
+show, in bitter words of cynical realism, that ink erasers are not
+always segregated or vouchers always all that they should be, and
+that, behind the happy exterior of many a mahogany railing, all is not
+so gosh-darned right with the world after all.
+
+Now, without setting myself up as a Strindberg, I would like to start
+the ball rolling toward a more realistic school of business literature
+by setting down in my rough, impulsive way a few of the items in the
+account of "How We Make Our Business Lose $100,000 a Year."
+
+All that I ask in the way of equipment is an illustration showing a
+square-jawed, clean-cut American business man sitting at a desk and
+shaking his finger at another man, very obviously the head of the
+sales department because it says so under the picture, who is standing
+with his thumbs in the arm-holes of his waistcoat, gnawing at a big,
+black cigar, and looking out through the window at the smoke-stacks of
+the works. With this picture as a starter, and a chart or two, I can
+build up a very decent business story around them.
+
+[Illustration: "A square-jawed American business man, etc., shaking
+his finger at another."]
+
+In the first place let me say that what we have done in our business
+any firm can do in theirs. It is not that we have any extraordinary
+talents along organization lines. We simply have taken the lessons
+learned in everyday trading, have tabulated and filed them in
+triplicate. Then we have forgotten them.
+
+I can best give an idea of the secret of our mediocrity as a business
+organization by outlining a typical day in our offices. I do this in
+no spirit of boasting, but simply to show these thousands of
+systematized business men who are devoting themselves to literature
+that somewhere in all this miasma of success there shines a ray of
+inefficiency, giving promise of the day that is to come.
+
+The first part of the morning in our establishment is devoted to the
+mail. This starts the day off right, for it gives every one something
+to do, which is, I have found, a big factor in keeping the place
+looking busy.
+
+Personally I am not what is known as a "snappy" dictator. It makes me
+nervous to have a stenographer sitting there waiting for me to say
+something so that she can pounce on it and tear it into hieroglyphics.
+I feel that, mentally, she is checking me up with other men who have
+dictated to her, and that I am being placed in Class 5a, along with
+the licensed pilots and mental defectives, and the more I think of it
+the more incoherent I become. If exact and detailed notes were to be
+preserved of one of my dictated letters, mental processes, and all,
+they might read something like this:
+
+"Good morning, Miss Kettle.... Take a letter, please ... to the Nipco
+Drop Forge and Tool Company, Schenectady ... S-c-h-e-c--er--well,
+Schenectady; you know how to spell that, I guess, Miss Kettle, ha!
+ha!... Nipco Drop Forge and Tool Company, Schenectady, New York....
+Gentlemen--er (business of touching finger tips and looking at the
+ceiling meditatively)--Your favor of the 17th inst. at hand, and in
+reply would state that--er (I should have thought this letter out
+before beginning to dictate and decided just what it _is_ that we
+desire to state in reply)--and in reply would state that--er ... our
+Mr. Mellish reports that--er ... where is that letter from Mr.
+Mellish, Miss Kettle?... The one about the castings.... Oh, never
+mind, I guess I can remember what he said.... Let's see, where were
+we?... Oh, yes, that our Mr. Mellish reports that he shaw the
+sipment--I mean _saw_ the _shipment_--what's the matter with me? (this
+girl must think that I'm a perfect fool) ... that he shaw the sipment
+in question on the platform of the station at Miller's Falls, and that
+it--er ... ah ... ooom ... (I'll have this girl asleep in her chair in
+a minute. I'll bet that she goes and tells the other girls that she
+has just taken a letter from a man with the mind of an eight-year-old
+boy).... We could, therefore, comma,... what's the matter?... Oh, I
+didn't finish that other sentence, I guess.... Let's see, how did it
+go?... Oh, yes ... and that I, or rather _it_, was in good shape ...
+er, cross that out, please (this girl is simply wasting her time here.
+I could spell this out with alphabet blocks quicker and let her copy
+it) ... and that it was in excellent shape at that shape--er ... or
+rather, at that _time_ ... er ... period. New paragraph.
+
+"We are, comma, therefore, comma, unable to ... hello, Mr. Watterly,
+be right with you in half a second.... I'll finish this later, Miss
+Kettle ... thank you."
+
+When the mail is disposed of we have what is known as Memorandum Hour.
+During this period every one sends memoranda to every one else. If you
+happen to have nothing in particular about which to dictate a
+memorandum, you dictate a memorandum to some one, saying that you have
+nothing to suggest or report. This gives a stimulating exchange of
+ideas, and also helps to use up the blue memorandum blanks which have
+been printed at some expense for just that purpose.
+
+As an example of how this system works, I will give a typical instance
+of its procedure. My partner, let us say, comes in and sits down at
+the desk opposite me. I observe that his scarfpin is working its way
+out from his tie. I call a stenographer and say: "Take a memo to Mr.
+MacFurdle, please. _In re_ Loosened Scarfpin. You are losing your
+scarfpin."
+
+As soon as she has typed this it is given to Mr. MacFurdle's
+secretary, and a carbon copy is put in the files. Mr. MacFurdle, on
+receiving my memo, adjusts his scarfpin and calls his secretary.
+
+"A memo to Mr. Benchley, please. _In re_ Tightened Scarfpin. Thank
+you. I have given the matter my attention."
+
+As soon as I have received a copy of this typewritten reply to my
+memorandum we nod pleasantly to each other and go on with our work. In
+all, not more than half an hour has been consumed, and we have a
+complete record of the negotiations in our files in case any question
+should ever arise concerning them. In case _no_ question should ever
+arise, we still have the complete record. So we can't lose--unless you
+want to call that half hour a loss.
+
+It is then almost lunch time. A quick glance at a pile of carbons of
+mill reports which have but little significance to me owing to the
+fact that the figures are illegible (it being a fifth-string carbon);
+a rapid survey of the matter submitted for my O.K., most of which I
+dislike to take the responsibility for and therefore pass on to Mr.
+Houghtelling for his O.K.; a short tussle in the washroom with the
+liquid-soap container which contains no liquid soap and a thorough
+drying of the hands on my handkerchief, the paper towels having given
+out early in the morning, and I am ready to go to lunch with a man
+from the Eureka Novelty Company who wants to sell us a central
+paste-supply system (whereby all the office paste is kept in one large
+vat in the storeroom, individual brushfuls being taken out only on
+requisitions O.K.'d by the head of the department).
+
+Both being practical business men, we spend only two hours at lunch.
+And, both being practical business men, we know all the subtleties of
+selling. It is a well-known fact that personality plays a big rôle in
+the so-called "selling game" (one of a series of American games, among
+which are "the newspaper game," "the advertising game," "the
+cloak-and-suit game," "the ladies' mackintosh and over-shoe game,"
+"the seedless-raisin and dried-fruit game," etc.), and so Mr. Ganz of
+the Eureka Novelty Company spends the first hour and three-quarters
+developing his "personality appeal." All through the tomato bisque aux
+croutons and the roast prime ribs of beef, dish gravy, he puts into
+practice the principles enunciated in books on Selling, by means of
+which the subject at hand is deferred in a subtle manner until the
+salesman has had a chance to impress his prospect with his geniality
+and his smile (an attractive smile has been known to sell a carload of
+1897 style derbies, according to authorities on The Smile in Selling),
+his knowledge of baseball, his rich fund of stories, and his general
+aversion to getting down to the disagreeable reason for his call.
+
+The only trouble with this system is that I have done the same thing
+myself so many times that I know just what his next line is going to
+be, and can figure out pretty accurately at each stage of his
+conversation just when he is going to shift to one position nearer the
+thing he has to sell. I know that he has not the slightest interest in
+my entertainment other than the sale of a Eureka Central Paste Supply
+System, and he knows that I know it, and so we spend an hour and
+three-quarters fooling the waiter into thinking that we are engaged in
+disinterested camaraderie.
+
+For fifteen minutes we talk business, and I agree to take the matter
+up with the directors at the next meeting, holding the mental
+reservation that a central paste supply system will be installed in
+our plant only over my dead body.
+
+This takes us until two-thirty, and I have to hurry back to a
+conference. We have two kinds of "conference." One is that to which
+the office boy refers when he tells the applicant for a job that Mr.
+Blevitch is "in conference." This means that Mr. Blevitch is in good
+health and reading the paper, but otherwise unoccupied. The other kind
+of "conference" is bona fide in so far as it implies that three or
+four men are talking together in one room, and don't want to be
+disturbed.
+
+This conference is on, let us say, the subject of Window Cards for
+display advertising: shall they be triangular or diamond-shaped?
+
+There are four of us present, and we all begin by biting off the ends
+of four cigars. Watterly has a pile of samples of window cards of
+various shapes, which he hangs, with a great deal of trouble, on the
+wall, and which are not referred to again. He also has a few ideas on
+Window Card Psychology.
+
+"It seems to me," he leads off, "that we have here a very important
+question. On it may depend the success of our Middle Western sales.
+The problem as I see it is this: what will be the reaction on the
+retina of the eye of a prospective customer made by the sight of a
+diamond-shaped card hanging in a window? It is a well-known fact in
+applied psychology that when you take the average man into a darkened
+room, loosen his collar, and shout "Diamonds!" at him suddenly, his
+mental reaction is one in which the ideas of Wealth, Value, Richness,
+etc., predominate. Now, it stands to reason that the visual reaction
+from seeing a diamond-shaped card in the window will...."
+
+[Illustration: "The problem as I see it is this."]
+
+"Excuse me a moment, George," says MacFurdle, who has absorbed some
+pointers on Distribution from a book entitled "The World Salesman," "I
+don't think that it is so important to get after the psychology of the
+thing first as it is to outline thoroughly the Theory of Zone
+Apportionment on which we are going to work. If we could make up a
+chart, showing in red ink the types of retail-stores and in green ink
+the types of jobber establishments, in this district, then we could
+get at the window display from that angle and tackle the psychology
+later, if at all. Now, on such a chart I would try to show the zones
+of Purchasing Power, and from these could be deduced...."
+
+"Just a minute, Harry," Inglesby interrupts, "let me butt in for half
+a second. That chart system is all very well when you are selling
+goods with which the public is already familiar through association
+with other brands, but with ours it is different. We have got to
+estimate the Consumer Demand first in terms of dollar-and-a-quarter
+units, and build our selling organization up around that. Now, if I
+know anything about human nature at all--and I think I do, after being
+in the malleable-iron game for fifteen years--the people in this
+section of the country represent an entirely different trade current
+than...."
+
+At this point I offer a few remarks on one of my pet hobbies, the
+influence of the Gulf Stream on Regional Commerce, and then we all say
+again the same things that we said before, after which we say them
+again, the pitch of the conversation growing higher at each repetition
+of views and the room becoming more and more filled with cigar smoke,
+Our final decision is to have a conference to-morrow afternoon, before
+which each one is to "think the matter over and report his reactions."
+
+This brings the day to a close. There has been nothing remarkable in
+it, as the reader will be the first one to admit. And yet it shows the
+secret of whatever we have not accomplished in the past year in our
+business.
+
+And it also shows why we practical business men have so little
+sympathy with a visionary, impractical arrangement like this League of
+Nations. President Wilson was all right in his way, but he was too
+academic. What we practical men in America want is deeds, not words.
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+TURNING OVER A NEW LEDGER LEAF
+
+
+New Year's morning approximately ninety-two million people in these
+United States will make another stab at keeping personal and household
+accounts for the coming year.
+
+One month from New Year's there will be approximately seventy-three of
+these accountants still in the race (all started). Of these, sixty
+will be groggy but still game and willing to lump the difference
+between the actual balance in their pockets and the theoretical
+balance in the books under the elastic heading "General Expenses" or
+"Incidentals," and start again for February. The remaining thirteen,
+who came out even, will be either professors of accounting in business
+schools or out and out unreliable.
+
+This high mortality rate among amateur accountants is one of the big
+problems of modern household efficiency, and is exceeded in magnitude
+only by the number of schemes devised to simplify household
+accounting. Every domestic magazine, in the midst of its
+autobiographical accounts of unhappy marriages, must needs run a
+chart showing how far a family with an income of $1,500 a year can go
+without getting caught and still put something aside for a canary.
+Every insurance company has had prepared by experts a table of figures
+explaining how, by lumping everything except Rent and Incidentals
+under Luxuries and doing without them, you can save enough from the
+wreckage of $1,200 a year to get in on their special Forty-Year
+Adjournment Policy.
+
+Those publications which cannot get an expert to figure out how much
+you ought to spend per day will publish letters from young housewives
+showing how they made out a budget which in the end brought them in
+more money than they earned and had the grocer and electric light
+company owing them money.
+
+The trouble with all these vicarious budgets is that they presuppose,
+on the part of the user, an ability to add and subtract. They take it
+for granted that you are going to do the thing right. Now, with all
+due respect to our primary and secondary school system, this is
+absurd. Here and there you may find some one who can take a page of
+figures and maul them over so that they will come out right at the
+bottom, but who wants to be a man like that? What fun does he get out
+of life, always sure of what the result is going to be?
+
+As for me, give me the regular method of addition by logic; that is,
+if the result obtained is twelve removed from the result that should
+have been obtained, then, ergo, twelve is the amount by which you have
+miscalculated and it should, therefore, be added or subtracted, as the
+case may be, to or from the actual result somewhere up in the middle
+of the column, so that in the end the thing will balance. And there
+you are, with just the same result as if you had worked for hours over
+the page and quibbled over every little point and figure. There is no
+sense in becoming a slave to numerical signs which in themselves are
+not worth the paper they are written on. It is the imagination that
+one puts into accounting that makes it fascinating. If free verse, why
+not free arithmetic?
+
+It is for the honest ones, who admit that they can't work one of the
+budget systems for the mentally alert, that the accompanying one has
+been devised.
+
+Let us take, for instance, a family whose income is $750,000 a year,
+exclusive of tips. In the family are a father, mother and fox terrier.
+The expenses for such a family come under the head of Liabilities and
+are distributed among six accounts: Food, Lodging, Extras, Extras,
+Incidentals and Extras. For this couple I would advise the following
+system:
+
+Take the contents of the weekly pay envelope, $14,423.08 (if any one
+is mean enough to go and divide $750,000 into fifty-two parts to see
+if I have got it right, he will find that it doesn't quite come to
+eight cents, but you certainly wouldn't have me carry it out to any
+more places. It took me from three yesterday afternoon until after
+dinner to do what I did). Take the contents of the envelope and lay
+them on the kitchen table in little piles, so much for meat, so much
+for eggs, so much for adhesive plaster, etc., until the kitchen table
+is covered. Then sweep it all into a bag and balance your books.
+
+Balancing the books is another point in the ideal system which often
+makes for trouble. Sticklers for form insist that the two sides of the
+page shall come out alike, even at the expense of your self-respect.
+It is the artificiality of this that hurts. No matter how much you
+spend, no matter how much you receive, at the bottom of the page they
+must add up to the same thing, with a double red line underneath them
+to show that the polls are closed.
+
+But since this is the accepted way of doing the thing, we might just
+as well concede the point and lay our plans accordingly. First take
+the sum that you have left over in the household exchequer at the end
+of the mouth. Put it, or its equivalent in check form, on the table in
+front of you. Then, working backward, find out how much you have spent
+since the first of the month. This sum is the crux of the whole
+system. Divide it into as many equal parts as you have accounts. For
+instance, Food, Rent, Clothes, Insurance and Savings, Operating
+Expenses, Higher Life. If you can't divide it so that it comes out
+even, tuck a little bit on the Higher Life account. And, as the
+student of French says," _Voilà_" (there it is)!
+
+Perhaps you have wondered what I meant by "Higher Life." I have. It
+might be well to state it here so that we can all get it clear in our
+minds. Under the "Higher Life" account you can charge everything that
+you want to do, but feel that you can't afford. If you want to take in
+an inconsequential theatrical performance and can't quite square it
+with your conscience, figure it out this way: By going to that show
+you will become so disgusted with the futility of such things that you
+will come out of the theater all aglow with a resolve to do a man's
+work in the world just as soon as you have caught up with your sleep.
+Surely that comes under "Advancement" or "Higher Life."
+
+Insurance budget helps always include under "Advancement" money spent
+for lectures. Now, it may be that I have drifted away from the big
+things in life since I moved out into the country, but somehow I can't
+just at this moment recollect standing in line at a box office for a
+lecture. But then, my home life is very pleasant.
+
+Lectures would be a very convenient heading, nevertheless, to have in
+your budget. Then, any little items that slip your attention during
+the month you can group under lectures and mark off ten paces in your
+advancement chart.
+
+By way of outlining beforehand just what you can spend on this and
+that (and it is usually on "that") it might be well to take another
+family with a representative income. Let us say that there are four in
+the family and that the income is about $1,000 per year too small. If
+such a family would sit down some evening and draw a chart showing
+father's earning capacity with one red line and the family spending
+capacity with one black line, they would not only have a pleasant
+evening, but they would have a nice, neat chart all drawn and suitable
+for framing.
+
+There is one little technical point that the amateur accountant will
+do well to remember. It gives a distinction to the page and shows that
+you are acquainted with bookkeeping lore. It is this: Label your
+debit column "credits" and your credit column "debits." You might
+think that what you receive into the exchequer would be credited and
+your expenses debited, but that is where you miss the whole theory of
+practical accounting. That would be too simple to be efficient. You
+must wax transcendental, and say, "I, as an individuated entity, am
+nothing. Everything is all; all is everything." There is a
+transcendent Account, to which all other accounts are responsible, and
+hence money turned over to the Cinnamon Account is not credited to
+that account, but rather debited to it, for Cinnamon hereby assumes
+the responsibility for the sum. As money is spent for Cinnamon, its
+account is credited, for it is relieved of that responsibility. Don't
+start wondering where the responsibility finally settles or you will
+throw something out of its stride in your brain.
+
+[Illustration: "They would have a nice, neat chart suitable for
+framing."]
+
+Some people profess to scoff at the introduction of bookkeeping into
+the running of the household. It is simply because they never tasted
+the fascination of the thing.
+
+The advantage of keeping family accounts is clear. If you do not keep
+them you are uneasily aware of the fact that you are spending more
+than you are earning. If you do keep them, you know it.
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+A PIECE OF ROAST BEEF
+
+
+Personally, I class roast beef with watercress and vanilla cornstarch
+pudding as tasty articles of diet. It undoubtedly has more than the
+required number of calories; it leans over backward in its eagerness
+to stand high among our best proteins, and, according to a vivid chart
+in the back of the cookbook, it is equal in food value to three dried
+raisins piled one on the other plus peanut-butter the size of an egg.
+
+But for all that I can't seem to feel that I am having a good time
+while I am eating it. It stimulates the same nerve centers in me that
+a lantern-slide lecture on "Palestine--the Old and the New," does.
+
+However, I have noticed that there are people who are not bored by it;
+in fact, I have seen them deliberately order it in a restaurant when
+they had the choice of something else; so I thought that the only fair
+thing I could do would be to look into the matter and see if, in this
+great city, there weren't some different ways of serving roast beef
+to vary its monotony.
+
+Roast beef is not the same price in all eating-places. What makes the
+difference? What does a diner at the Ritz get in his "roast prime ribs
+of beef au jus" that makes it distinctive from the "Special
+to-day--roast beef and mashed potatoes" of the Bowery restaurant?
+
+To answer these questions I started out on a tour of the
+representative eating-places of some of our best known strata of
+society, and, whatever my conclusions are, you may be sure that they
+are thoroughly inexpert.
+
+First, I tried out what is known as the Bay State Lunch, so called
+because on Thursdays they have a fishcake special. It is one of the
+hundreds of "self-serving" lunchrooms, where you approach the marble
+counter and give your order in a low tone to a man in a barber's coat,
+and then repeat it at intervals of one minute, each time louder and
+each time to a different man, until you are forced to point to a tub
+of salmon salad and say, "Some of that," for which your ticket is
+punched and you are allowed to take your portion and nurse it on the
+over-developed arm of a chair.
+
+Here the roast beef shot through the Punch and Judy arrangement in the
+wall, a piece of meat about as large around as a man's-size mitten,
+steeping in its own gravy and of a pale reddish hue. The price was
+twenty cents, which included a dab of mashed potato dished out in an
+ice-cream scoop, a generous allowance of tender peas, two hot
+tea-biscuits and butter to match.
+
+[Illustration: "Considering the basic ingredient, it was a perfectly
+satisfactory meal."]
+
+Considering the basic ingredient, it was a perfectly satisfactory
+meal, and I felt that twenty cents was little enough to pay for it,
+especially since it was going in on my expense account.
+
+For the next experiment I went to a restaurant where business men are
+wont to gather for luncheon, men who pride themselves on their acumen
+and adherence to the principles of efficiency. The place has a French
+name and its menus are printed on a card the size of a life insurance
+company's complimentary calendar, always an ominous sign. The roast
+beef here was served cold, with a plate of escarole salad (when I was
+a boy I used to have to dig escarole out of the front lawn with a
+trowel so that the grass could have a chance) for seventy-five cents.
+
+The meat bulked a little larger than at the Bay State Lunch, but when
+the fat had been cut away and trimmed off the salvage was about the
+size of a boy's mitten. As for the taste, the only difference that I
+could detect was that one had been hot and the other cold.
+
+And, incidentally, the waiter had some bosom friends in the next room
+who fascinated him so that it was all I could do to make him see that
+if he didn't come around to me once in a while, just as a matter of
+form, there would be no way for me to tip him. Beef and salad, plus
+tip, ninety cents.
+
+That evening I ambled up the Bowery until I came to the Busy Home
+Restaurant. On a black-board in front was written, "Roast Beef, Mashed
+Potatoes and Coffee, 10 Cents." My old hunger again seized me. I said
+to myself: "Look here! Be a man! This thing is getting the best of
+you." But before I knew it I was inside and seated at an
+oilcloth-covered table, saying, in a hoarse voice, "Roast beef!"
+
+The waiter was dressed in an informal costume, with his shirt-sleeves
+rolled up and a mulatto apron about his waist, but he smiled genially
+when he took my order and was back with it in two minutes. The article
+itself was of the regulation size, cut somewhat thinner, perhaps, and
+bordering on the gray in hue, but undoubtedly roast beef. It, too, had
+an affinity for its own gravy and hid itself modestly under an
+avalanche of mashed potatoes. A cup of coffee was also included in the
+ten cents' initial expense, but I somehow wasn't coffee-thirsty that
+night, and so didn't sample it. But I did help myself to the plate
+piled high with fresh bread which was left in front of me. All in all,
+it was what I should call a representative roast beef dinner. And I
+got more than ten cents' worth of calories, I know.
+
+But so far I had kept below the Fourteenth Street belt in my
+investigations. Roast beef is a cosmopolitan habit, and knows no
+arbitrary boundaries; so I went uptown. Into one of the larger of our
+largest hotels, one which is not so near the Grand Central Station as
+to be in the train-shed, and yet not so far removed from it as to be
+represented by a different Assemblyman. Here, I felt, would be the
+test. Could roast beef come back? Surrounded by glittering
+chandeliers and rich tapestries, snowy table linen and silver service,
+here was the chance for the ordinary roast beef to become a veritable
+dainty, with some character, some distinctive touch that should lift
+it above all that roast beef has ever meant before. I entered the
+dining-room, in high hopes.
+
+Clad in a walking suit of virile tweed, I considered myself
+respectably dressed. Not ostentatiously respectable, mind you, but,
+since most of the other diners were in evening dress, rather
+_distingué_, I thought.
+
+But apparently the hotel retainers weren't trained to look through a
+rough exterior and find the sterling qualities beneath. They looked
+through my rough exterior all right, but they didn't stop at my
+sterling qualities. They looked right through to the man behind me,
+and gave him the signal that there was a seat for him.
+
+Not to be outdone, however, I got my place in the sun by cleverly
+tripping my rival as he passed me, so that he fell into the fountain
+arrangement, while I sat down in the seat pulled out for him by the
+head waiter. And, once I was in, there was nothing for them to do but
+let me stay.
+
+After I had been there a few minutes a waiter came and put on a fresh
+table cloth. Five minutes later another man placed a knife and spoon
+at my plate. Later in the evening a boy with a basket of rolls
+wandered by and deposited one on my table with a pair of pincers.
+Personally, I was rather glad that it was working out this way, for it
+would make my story all the better, but I might have really been in a
+hurry for my dinner.
+
+It wasn't long, as the crow flies, before one of the third assistant
+waiters unloosened enough to drop round and see if there was anything
+else I wanted besides one roll and a knife and spoon. I looked over
+the menu as if I were in a pretty captious mood, and then, with the
+air of an epicure who has tasted to the dregs all the condiments of
+Arabia and whose jaded palate refuses to thrill any longer, I ordered
+"roast beef."
+
+It was billed as "90 (.80)," which didn't strike me as being very
+steep, considering the overhead expense there must be in keeping
+little knots of waiters and 'bus-boys standing round doing nothing in
+the further corner of the room.
+
+The waiter wasn't very enthusiastic over my order, and something saved
+me from asking him if they threw in "a side" of mashed potatoes with
+the meat. He seemed to expect something more, even after I had ordered
+potatoes, so I suggested an artichoke. That cheered him up more than
+anything I had done that evening, and he really got quite fratty and
+said: "A little salad, sir?" Again I imitated a man who has had more
+experience with salads than any other three men put together and who
+has found them a miserable sham.
+
+[Illustration: "The waiter wasn't very enthusiastic over my order."]
+
+"No; that will be all for now," I said, and turned wearily away. I
+wanted to tell him that I had a dinner coat at home that looked enough
+sight better than his, but there is no use in making a scene when it
+can be avoided.
+
+During the next twenty minutes the orchestra played once and I ate my
+roll. Then the roast beef came.
+
+On a silver platter, with a silver cover, it was placed before me
+under the best possible scenic conditions. But the thing that met my
+gaze when the cover was lifted might just as well have been the same
+property piece of roast beef that was keeping company with a dab of
+mashed potato in the Bay State Lunch. It had a trifle more fat, was
+just a shade pinker, and perhaps a micrometer could have detected a
+bit more bulk; but, so far as I was concerned or so far as the
+calories were concerned, it was the same. I won't say that it was the
+same as the Roast Beef Special of the Bowery Restaurant, because the
+service in the Bowery Restaurant was infinitely better.
+
+As a fitting garniture to such a dish, there was a corsage of
+watercress draped on the corner of the salver. At any rate, it could
+be said for it that it was not intoxicating, and so could never cause
+any real misery in this world.
+
+I nibbled at my roast beef, but my spirit was broken. I had gone
+through a week of self-denial, ordering roast beef when I craved
+edibles, eating at restaurants while my family waited for me at home,
+and here was the result of my researches: Roast beef is roast beef,
+and nothing can prevent it. From the ten-cent order of the Busy Home
+Restaurant, up through to the piece I was then eating, it was the same
+grim reality, the only justification for a difference in price being a
+silver salver or a waiter in a tuxedo.
+
+"But," I said to myself, "eighty cents isn't so much, at that.
+Besides, I have heard the orchestra play one tune every half-hour, and
+have had a kind word from one of the _chargés d'affaires_ of the
+waiter's staff."
+
+This quite reconciled me, until my check was brought. There, added to
+the initial expense of eighty cents, was the upkeep, such as "Cover,
+25c." "Potatoes, 30c." And to this must be added the modest fee of
+twenty cents to the waiter and ten cents to the hat-boy who gave me
+the wrong hat. Total expense for one piece of roast beef, $1.70.
+
+These investigations may not prove to be much of a contribution to
+modern science or economics. I doubt if they are ever incorporated in
+any textbook, even if it should be a textbook on this very subject.
+But I must take credit to myself for one thing: Not once throughout
+the whole report have I alluded to the Tenderloin District.
+
+
+
+
+XII
+
+THE COMMUNITY MASQUE AS A SUBSTITUTE FOR WAR
+
+
+With War and Licker removed from the list of "What's Going on This
+Week," how will mankind spend the long summer evenings? Some advocate
+another war. Others recommend a piece of yeast in a glass of
+grape-juice. The effect is said to be equally devastating.
+
+But there is a new school, led by Percy Mackaye, which brings forward
+a scheme for occupying the spare time of the world which has, at
+least, the savor of novelty. It presents the community masque as a
+substitute for war. Whenever a neighborhood, or county, feels the old
+craving for blood-letting and gas-bombing coming on, a town meeting is
+to be called and plans drawn up for the presentation of a masque
+entitled "Democracy" or "From Chrysalis to Butterfly." In this simple
+way, one and all will be kept out in the open air and will get to know
+each other better, thus relieving their bellicose cravings right there
+on the village green among themselves, without dragging a foreign
+nation into the mess at all. The slogan is "Fight Your Neighbors
+First. Why Go Abroad for War?"
+
+The community masque idea is all right in itself. There certainly can
+be no harm in dressing up to represent the Three Platoon System, or
+the Spirit of Machinery, and reciting free verse to the effect that:
+
+    "I am the Three Platoon System. Firemen I represent,
+     And the clash and clang of the Hook and Ladder Company."
+
+No one could find fault with that, provided that those taking part in
+the thing do so of their own free will and understand what they are
+doing.
+
+The trouble with the community masque is not so much with the masque
+as with the community. For while the masque may be a five star
+sporting extra hot from the presses of Percy Mackaye, the community is
+the same old community that has been getting together for inter-Sunday
+School track-meets and Wig and Footlight Club Amateur Theatricals for
+years and years, and the result has always been the same.
+
+Let us say, for instance, that the community of Wimblehurst begins to
+feel the lack of a good, rousing war to keep the Ladies' Guild and
+the men over thirty-five busy. What could be more natural than to call
+in Mr. Mackaye, and say: "What have you got in the way of a nice
+masque for a suburban district containing many socially possible
+people and others who might do very well in ensemble work?"
+
+Something entitled "The March of Civilization" is selected, because it
+calls for Boy Scout uniforms and a Goddess of Liberty costume, all of
+which are on hand, together with lots of Red Cross regalia, left over
+from the war drives. The plot of the thing concerns the adventures of
+the young girl _Civilization_ who leaves her home in the _Neolithic
+Period_ accompanied only by her faithful old nurse _Language_ and
+_Language's_ little children the _Vowels_ and the _Consonants_. She is
+followed all the way from the Neolithic Age to the Present Time by the
+evil spirit, _Indigestion_, but, thanks to the helpful offices of the
+_Spirits of Capillary Attraction_, and _Indestructibility of Matter_,
+she overcomes all obstacles and reaches her goal, _The League of
+Nations_, at last.
+
+But during the course of her wanderings, there have been all kinds of
+sub-plots which bring the element of suspense into the thing. For
+instance, it seems that this person _Indigestion_ has found out
+something about _Civilization's_ father which gives him the upper
+hand over the girl, and he, together with the two gunmen, _Heat_
+and _Humidity_, arrange all kinds of traps for the poor thing to
+fall into. But she takes counsel with the kind old lady,
+_Self-Determination of Peoples_, and is considerably helped by the low
+comedy character, _Obesity_, who always appears at just the right
+moment. So in the end, there is a big ensemble, involving Boy Scouts,
+representatives of those Allies who happen to be in good standing in
+that particular month, seven boys and girls personifying the twelve
+months of the year, Red Cross workers, the Mayor's Committee of
+Welcome, a selection of Major Prophets, children typifying the ten
+different ways of cooking an egg, and the all-pervading _Spirit of the
+Post-Office Department_, seated on a daïs in the rear and watching
+over the assemblage with kindly eyes and an armful of bricks.
+
+This, then, is in brief outline, "The March of Civilization," selected
+for presentation by the Community Council of Wimblehurst. It is to be
+done on the edge of the woods which line the golf-course, and on
+paper, the thing shapes up rather well.
+
+Considerable hard feeling arises, however, over the choice of the
+children to play the parts of the _Vowels_ and the _Consonants_. It
+is, of course, not possible to have all the vowels and consonants
+represented, as they would clutter up the stage and might prove
+unwieldy in the allegretto passages. A compromise is therefore
+effected by personifying only the more graceful ones, like _S_ and the
+lower-case _f_, and this means that a certain discrimination must be
+used in selecting the actors. It also means that a great many little
+girls are going to be disappointed and their mothers' feelings
+outraged.
+
+Little Alice Withstanley is chosen to play the part of the _Craft
+Guild Movement in Industry_, showing the rise of coöperation and unity
+among the working-classes. She is chosen because she has blonde hair
+which can be arranged in braids down her back, obviously essential to
+a proper representation of industrial team-work as a moving force in
+the world's progress. It so happens, however, that the daughter of the
+man who is cast for _Humidity_ has had her eyes on this ingénue part
+ever since the printed text was circulated and had virtually been
+promised it by the Head of the House Committee of the Country Club,
+through whose kindness the grounds were to be used for the
+performance. There is a heated discussion over the merits of the two
+contestants between Mrs. Withstanley and the mother of the betrayed
+girl, which results in the withdrawal of the latter's offer to
+furnish Turkish rugs for the Oriental Decadence scene.
+
+[Illustration: "There is a heated discussion between Mrs. Withstanley
+and the mother of the betrayed girl."]
+
+Following this, the rougher element of the community--enlisted to take
+part in the scenes showing the building of the Pyramids and the first
+Battle of Bull Run--appear at one of the early rehearsals in a state
+of bolshevik upheaval, protesting against the unjust ruling which
+makes them attend all rehearsals and wait around on the side hill
+until their scenes are on, keeping them inactive sometimes from two to
+three hours, according to the finish with which the principals get
+through the prologue and opening scenes showing the Creation. The
+proletariat present an ultimatum, saying that the Committee in charge
+can either shorten their waiting hours or remove the restrictions on
+crap-shooting on the side-hill during their periods of inaction.
+
+There is a meeting of the Director and his assistants who elect a
+delegation to confer with the striking legionaries, with the result
+that no compromise is reached, the soviet withdraws from the masque in
+a body, threatening to set fire to the grass on the first night of the
+performance.
+
+During the rehearsals the husband of the woman who is portraying
+_Winter Wheat_ is found wandering along the brookside with her sister
+cereal _Spring Wheat_, which, of course, makes further polite
+coöperation between these two staples impossible, and the Dance of the
+Food Stuffs has to be abandoned at the last moment. This adds to the
+general tension.
+
+Three nights before the first performance the Director calls every one
+to a meeting in the trophy room of the Club-house and says that, so
+far as he is concerned, the show is off. He has given up his time to
+come out here, night after night, in an attempt to put on a masque
+that will be a credit to the community and a significant event in the
+world of art, and what has he found? Indifference, irresponsibility,
+lack of coöperation, non-attendance at rehearsals, and a spirit of
+_laissez-faire_ in the face of which it is impossible to produce a
+successful masque. Consideration for his own reputation, as well as
+that of the township, makes it necessary for him to throw the whole
+thing over, here and now.
+
+[Illustration: "The audience is composed chiefly of the aged and the
+infirm."]
+
+The Chairman of the Committee then gets up and cries a little, and
+says that he is sure that if every one agrees to pull together during
+these last three days and to attend rehearsals faithfully and to try
+to get plenty of sleep, Mr. Parsleigh, the coach, will consent to help
+them through with the performance, and he asks every one who is
+willing to coöperate to say "Aye." Every one says "Aye" and Mr.
+Parsleigh is won over.
+
+As for the masque itself, it is given, of course; and as most of the
+able-bodied people of the community are taking part, the audience is
+composed chiefly of the aged and the infirm, who catch muscular
+rheumatism from sitting out-of-doors and are greatly bored, except
+during those scenes when their relatives are taking part. The masque
+is hailed as a great success, however, in spite of the fact that the
+community has been disrupted and social life made impossible until the
+next generation grows up and agrees to let bygones be bygones.
+
+But as a substitute for war, it has no equal.
+
+
+
+
+XIII
+
+CALL FOR MR. KENWORTHY!
+
+
+A great many people have wondered to themselves, in print, just where
+the little black laundry-studs go after they have been yanked from the
+shirt. Others pass this by as inconsequential, but are concerned over
+the ultimate disposition of all the pencil stubs that are thrown away.
+Such futile rumination is all well enough for those who like it. As
+for me, give me a big, throbbing question like this: "Who are the
+people that one hears being paged in hotels? Are they real people or
+are they decoys? And if they are real people, what are they being
+paged for?"
+
+Now, there's something vital to figure out. And the best of it is that
+it _can_ be figured out by the simple process of following the page to
+see whether he ever finds any one.
+
+In order that no expense should be spared, I picked out a hotel with
+poor service, which means that it was an expensive hotel. It was so
+expensive that all you could hear was the page's voice as he walked
+by you; his footfalls made no noise in the extra heavy Bokhara. It was
+just a mingling of floating voices, calling for "Mr. Bla-bla, Mr.
+Schwer-a-a, Mr. Twa-a-a."
+
+Out of this wealth of experimental material I picked a boy with a
+discouraged voice like Wallace Eddinger's, who seemed to be saying
+"I'm calling these names--because that's my job--if I wasn't calling
+these--I'd be calling out cash totals in an honor system lunchery--but
+if any one should ever answer to one of these names--I'd have a poor
+spell."
+
+Allowing about fifteen feet distance between us for appearance's sake,
+I followed him through the lobby. He had a bunch of slips in his hand
+and from these he read the names of the pagees.
+
+"Call for Mr. Kenworthy--Mr. Shriner--Mr. Bodkin--Mr. Blevitch--Mr.
+Kenworthy--Mr. Bodkin--Mr. Kenworthy--Mr. Shriner--call for Mr.
+Kenworthy--Mr. Blevitch--Mr. Kenworthy."
+
+Mr. Kenworthy seemed to be standing about a 20 per cent better chance
+of being located than any of the other contestants. Probably the boy
+was of a romantic temperament and liked the name. Sometimes that was
+the only name he would call for mile upon mile. It occurred to me that
+perhaps Mr. Kenworthy was the only one wanted, and that the other
+names were just put in to make it harder, or to give body to the
+thing.
+
+[Illustration: "Sometimes that was the only name he would call for
+mile upon mile."]
+
+But when we entered the bar the youth shifted his attack. The name of
+Kenworthy evidently had begun to cloy. He was fed up on romance and
+wanted something substantial, homely, perhaps, but substantial.
+
+So he dropped Kenworthy and called: "Mr. Blevitch. Call for Mr.
+Blevitch--Mr. Shriner--Mr. Bodkin--Mr. Blevitch--"
+
+But even this subtle change of tactics failed to net him a customer.
+We had gone through the main lobby, along the narrow passage lined
+with young men waiting on sofas for young women who would be forty
+minutes late, through the grill, and now had crossed the bar, and no
+one had raised even an eyebrow. No wonder the boy's voice sounded
+discouraged.
+
+As we went through one of the lesser dining-rooms, the dining-room
+that seats a lot of heavy men in business suits holding cigarettes,
+who lean over their plates the more confidentially to converse with
+their blond partners, in this dining-room the plaintive call drew
+fire. One of the men in business suits, who was at a table with
+another man and two women, lifted his head when he heard the sound of
+names being called.
+
+"Boy!" he said, and waved like a traffic officer signaling, "Come!"
+
+Eagerly the page darted forward. Perhaps this was Mr. Kenworthy! Or
+better yet, Mr. Blevitch.
+
+[Illustration: "Anything here for Studz?"]
+
+"Anything here for Studz?" said the man in the business suit, when he
+was sure that enough people were listening.
+
+"No, sir," sighed the boy. "Mr. Blevitch, Mr. Kenworthy, Mr. Shriner,
+Mr. Bodkin?" he suggested, hopefully.
+
+"Naw," replied the man, and turned to his associates with an air of
+saying: "Rotten service here--just think of it, no call for me!"
+
+On we went again. The boy was plainly skeptical. He read his lines
+without feeling. The management had led him into this; all he could do
+was to take it with as good grace as possible.
+
+He slid past the coat-room girl at the exit (no small accomplishment
+in itself) and down a corridor, disappearing through a swinging door
+at the end. I was in no mood to lose out on the finish after following
+so far, and I dashed after him.
+
+The door led into a little alcove and another palpitating door at the
+opposite end showed me where he had gone. Setting my jaw for no
+particular reason, I pushed my way through.
+
+At first, like the poor olive merchant in the Arabian Nights I was
+blinded by the glare of lights and the glitter of glass and silver.
+Oh, yes, and by the snowy whiteness of the napery, too. "By the napery
+of the neck" wouldn't be a bad line to get off a little later in the
+story. I'll try it.
+
+At any rate, it was but the work of a minute for me to realize that I
+had entered by a service entrance into the grand dining-room of the
+establishment, where, if you are not in evening dress, you are left to
+munch bread and butter until you starve to death and are carried out
+with your heels dragging, like the uncouth lout that you are. It was,
+if I may be allowed the phrase, a galaxy of beauty, with every one
+dressed up like the pictures. And I had entered 'way up front, by the
+orchestra.
+
+Now, mind you, I am not ashamed of my gray suit. I like it, and my
+wife says that I haven't had anything so becoming for a long time. But
+in it I didn't check up very strong against the rest of the boys in
+the dining-room. As a gray suit it is above reproach. As a garment in
+which to appear single-handed through a trapdoor before a dining-room
+of well dressed Middle Westerners it was a fizzle from start to
+finish. Add to this the items that I had to snatch a brown soft hat
+from my head when I found out where I was, which caused me to drop the
+three evening papers I had tucked under my arm, and you will see why
+my up-stage entrance was the signal for the impressive raising of
+several dozen eyebrows, and why the captain approached me just exactly
+as one man approaches another when he is going to throw him out.
+
+(Blank space for insertion of "napery of neck" line, if desired.
+Choice optional with reader.)
+
+I saw that anything that I might say would be used against me, and
+left him to read the papers I had dropped. One only lowers one's self
+by having words with a servitor.
+
+Gradually I worked my way back through the swinging doors to the main
+corridor and rushed down to the regular entrance of the grand
+dining-salon, to wait there until my quarry should emerge. Suppose he
+should find all of his consignees in this dining-room! I could not be
+in at the death then, and would have to falsify my story to make any
+kind of ending at all. And that would never do.
+
+Once in a while I would catch the scent, when, from the humming depths
+of the dining-room, I could hear a faint "Call for Mr. Kenworthy"
+rising above the click of the oyster shells and the soft crackling of
+the "potatoes Julienne" one against another. So I knew that he had not
+failed me, and that if I had faith and waited long enough he would
+come back.
+
+And, sure enough, come back he did, and without a name lost from his
+list. I felt like cheering when I saw his head bobbing through the
+mêlée of waiters and 'bus-boys who were busy putting clean plates on
+the tables and then taking them off again in eight seconds to make
+room for more clean plates. Of all discouraging existences I can
+imagine none worse than that of an eternally clean plate. There can be
+no sense of accomplishment, no glow of duty done, in simply being
+placed before a man and then taken away again. It must be almost as
+bad as paging a man who you are sure is not in the hotel.
+
+The futility of the thing had already got on the page's nerves, and in
+a savage attempt to wring a little pleasure out of the task he took to
+welding the names, grafting a syllable of one to a syllable of
+another, such as "Call for Mr. Kenbodkin--Mr. Shrineworthy--Mr.
+Blevitcher."
+
+This gave us both amusement for a little while, but your combinations
+are limited in a thing like that, and by the time the grill was
+reached he was saying the names correctly and with a little more
+assurance.
+
+It was in the grill that the happy event took place. Mr. Shriner, the
+one of whom we expected least, suddenly turned up at a table alone. He
+was a quiet man and not at all worked up over his unexpected honor. He
+signaled the boy with one hand and went on taking soup with the other,
+and learned, without emotion, that he was wanted on the telephone. He
+even made no move to leave his meal to answer the call, and when last
+seen he was adding pepper with one hand and taking soup with the
+other. I suspect that he was a "plant," or a plain-clothes house
+detective, placed there on purpose to deceive me.
+
+We had been to every nook of the hotel by this time, except the
+writing-room, and, of course, no one would ever look there for patrons
+of the hotel. Seeing that the boy was about to totter, I went up and
+spoke to him. He continued to totter, thinking, perhaps, that I was
+Mr. Kenworthy, his long-lost beau-ideal. But I spoke kindly to him and
+offered him a piece of chocolate almond-bar, and soon, in true
+reporter fashion, had wormed his secret from him before he knew what I
+was really after.
+
+The thing I wanted to find out was, of course, just what the average
+is of replies to one paging trip. So I got around it in this manner:
+offering him another piece of chocolate almond-bar, I said, slyly:
+"Just what is the average number of replies to one paging trip?"
+
+I think that he had suspected something at first, but this question
+completely disarmed him, and, leaning against an elderly lady patron,
+he told me everything.
+
+"Well," he said, "it's this way: sometimes I find a man, and sometimes
+I can go the rounds without a bite. To-night, for instance, here I've
+got four names and one came across. That's about the average--perhaps
+one in six."
+
+I asked him why he had given Mr. Kenworthy such a handicap at the
+start.
+
+A faint smile flickered across his face and then flickered back again.
+
+"I call the names I think will be apt to hang round in the part of the
+hotel I'm in. Mr. Kenworthy would have to be in the dressy dining-room
+or in the lobby where they wait for ladies. You'd never find him in
+the bar or the Turkish baths. On the other hand, you'll never find a
+man by the name of Blevitch anywhere except in the bar. Of course, I
+take a chance and call every name once in so often, no matter where I
+am, but, on the whole, I uses my own discretion."
+
+I gave him another piece of chocolate and the address of a good
+bootmaker and left him. What I had heard had sobered me, and the
+lights and music suddenly seemed garish. It is no weak emotion to feel
+that you have been face to face with a mere boy whose chances of
+success in his work are one to six.
+
+And I found that he had not painted the lily in too glowing terms. I
+followed other pages that night--some calling for "Mr. Strudel," some
+for "Mr. Carmickle," and one was broad-minded enough to page a "Mrs.
+Bemis." But they all came back with that wan look in their eyes and a
+break in their voices.
+
+And each one of them was stopped by the man in the business suit in
+the downstairs dining-room and each time he considered it a personal
+affront that there wasn't a call for "Studz."
+
+Some time I'm going to have him paged, and when he comes out I shall
+untie his necktie for him.
+
+
+
+
+XIV
+
+FOOTBALL; COURTESY OF MR. MORSE
+
+
+Sunday morning these fine fall days are taken up with reading about
+the "40,000 football enthusiasts" or the "gaily-bedecked crowd of
+60,000 that watched the game on Saturday." And so they probably did,
+unless there were enough men in big fur coats who jumped up at every
+play and yelled "Now we're off!" thus obstructing the view of an
+appreciable percentage.
+
+But why stop at the mention of the paltry 50,000 who sat in the Bowl
+or the Stadium? Why forget the twice 50,000 all over the country, in
+Chicago, St. Louis, San Francisco, Atlanta, who watched the same game
+over the ticker, or sat in a smoke-fogged room listening to
+telegraphic announcements, play by play, or who even stood on the
+curbing in front of a newspaper office and watched an impartial
+employee shove a little yellow ball along a black-board, usually
+indicating the direction in which the real football was _not_ going.
+Since it is so important to give the exact number of people who saw
+the game, why not do the thing up right and say: "Returns which are
+now coming in from the Middle West, with some of the rural districts
+still to be heard from, indicate that at least 145,566 people watched
+the Yale-Princeton football game yesterday. Secretary Dinwoodie of the
+San Francisco Yale Club telegraphed late last night that the final
+count in that city would probably swell the total to a round 150,395.
+This is, or will be, the largest crowd that ever assembled in one
+country to watch a football game."
+
+And watching the game in this vicarious manner isn't so bad as the
+fellow who has got tickets and carfare to the real game would like to
+have it. You are in a warm room, where you can stretch your legs and
+regulate your remarks to the intensity of your emotions rather than to
+the sex of your neighbors. And as for thrills! "Dramatic suspense" was
+probably first used as a term in connection with this indoor sport.
+
+The scene is usually some college club in the city--a big room full of
+smoke and graduates. At one end is a scoreboard and miniature
+gridiron, along which a colored counter is moved as the telegraph
+behind the board clicks off the plays hot from the real gridiron.
+There is also an announcer, who, by way of clarifying the message
+depicted on the board, reads the wrong telegram in a loud, clear
+tone.
+
+Just as the crowd in the football arena are crouching down in their
+fur coats the better to avoid watching the home team fumble the
+kick-off, the crowds two and ten hundred miles away are settling back
+in their chairs and lighting up the old pipes, while the
+German-silver-tongued announcer steps to the front of the platform and
+delivers the following:
+
+"Yale won the toss and chose to defend the south goal, Princeton
+taking the west."
+
+This mistake elicits much laughter, and a witty graduate who has just
+had lunch wants to know, as one man to the rest of the house, if it is
+puss-in-the-corner that is being played.
+
+The instrument behind the board goes "Tick-ity-tick-tick-tickity."
+
+There is a hush, broken only by the witty graduate, who, encouraged by
+his first success, wants to know again if it is puss-in-the-corner
+that is being played. This fails to gain.
+
+"Gilblick catches the kick-off and runs the ball back to his own
+3-yard line, where he is downed in his tracks," comes the
+announcement.
+
+There is a murmur of incredulity at this. The little ball on the board
+shoots to the middle of the field.
+
+"Hey, how about that?" shout several precincts.
+
+The announcer steps forward again.
+
+"That was the wrong announcement," he admits. "Tweedy caught the
+kick-off and ran the ball back twenty-five yards to midfield, where he
+is thrown for a loss. On the next play there was a forward pass, Klung
+to Breakwater, which--"
+
+Here the message stops. Intense excitement.
+
+"Tickity-tickity-tick-tickity."
+
+The man who has $5 on the game shuts his eyes and says to his
+neighbor: "I'll bet it was intercepted."
+
+A wait of two triple-space minutes while the announcer winds his
+watch. Then he steps forward. There is a noisy hush.
+
+"It is estimated that 50,000 people filed into the Palmer Stadium
+to-day to watch Yale and Princeton in their annual gridiron contest,"
+he reads. "Yale took the field at five minutes of 2, and was greeted
+by salvos and applause and cheering from the Yale section. A minute
+later the Princeton team appeared, and this was a signal for the
+Princeton cohorts to rise as one man and give vent to their famous
+'Undertaker's Song.'"
+
+"How about that forward pass?" This, as one man, from the audience.
+
+The ball quivers and starts to go down the field. A mighty shout goes
+up. Then something happens, and the ball stops, looks, listens and
+turns in the other direction. Loud groans. A wooden slide in the
+mechanism of the scoreboard rattles into place, upside down. Agile
+spectators figure out that it says "Pass failed."
+
+Every one then sinks back and says, "They ought not to have tried
+that." If the quarterback could hear the graduates' do-or-die backing
+of their team at this juncture he would trot into the locker building
+then and there.
+
+Again the clear voice from the platform:
+
+"Tweedy punts--" (noisy bond-salesman in back of room stands up on a
+chair and yells "Yea!" and is told to "Shut up" by three or four dozen
+neighbors) "to Gumble on his 15-yard line. Gumble fumbles."
+
+The noisy bond-salesman tries to lead a cheer but is prevented.
+
+Frightful tension follows. Who recovered? Whose ball is it? On what
+line? Wet palms are pressed against trouser legs. How about it?
+
+"Tick-tickity-tick-tickity-tickity-tickity."
+
+You can hear the announcer's boots squeak as he steps forward.
+
+"Mr. A.T. Blevitch is wanted on the telephone," he enunciates.
+
+Mr. A.T. Blevitch becomes the most unpopular man in that section of
+the country. Every one turns to see what a man of his stamp can look
+like. He is so embarrassed that he slinks down in his seat and refuses
+to answer the call.
+
+[Illustration: "Noisy bond-salesman in back of room stands up on chair
+and yells 'Yea!'"]
+
+"Klung goes around right end for a gain of two yards," is the next
+message from the front.
+
+The bond-salesman shouts "Yea!"
+
+"How about that fumble?" shouts every one else.
+
+The announcer goes behind the scenes to talk it over with the man who
+works the Punch-and-Judy, and emerges, smiling.
+
+"In the play preceding the one just announced," he says, "Gumble
+fumbled and the ball was recovered by Breakwater, who ran ten yards
+for a touchdown--"
+
+Pandemonium! The bond-salesman leads himself in a cheer. The witty man
+says, "Nothing to it."
+
+There is comparative quiet again, and every one lights up the old
+pipes that have gone out.
+
+The announcer steps forward with his hand raised as if to regulate
+traffic.
+
+"There was a mistake in the announcement just made," he says
+pleasantly. "In place of 'touchdown' read 'touchback.' The ball is now
+in play on the 20-yard line, and Kleenwell has just gone through
+center for three yards."
+
+By this time no one in the audience has any definite idea of where the
+ball is or who has it. On the board it is hovering between midfield
+and second base.
+
+"On the next play Legly punts--"
+
+"Block that punt! Block that punt!" warns the bond-salesman, as if it
+were the announcer who was opposing Legly.
+
+"Sit down, you poor fish!" is the consensus of opinion.
+
+"Legly punts to Klung on the latter's 25-yard line, where the first
+period ends."
+
+And so it goes throughout the game; the announcer calling out gains
+and the dummy football registering corresponding losses; Messrs. A.T.
+Blevitch and L.H. Yank being wanted on the telephone in the middle of
+forward passes; the noisy person in the back of the room yelling "Yea"
+on the slightest provocation and being hushed up at each outbreak; and
+every one wondering what the quarterback meant by calling for the
+plays he did.
+
+In smaller cities, where only a few are gathered together to hear the
+results, things are not done on such an elaborate scale. The dummy
+gridiron and the dummy announcer are done away with and the ten or a
+dozen rooters cluster about the news ticker, most of them with the
+intention of watching for just a few minutes and then going home or
+back to the office. And they always wait for just one more play,
+shifting from one foot to the other, until the game is over.
+
+About a ticker only the three or four lucky ones can see the tape. The
+rest have to stand on tip-toe and peer over the shoulders of the man
+in front. They don't care. Some one will always read the results
+aloud, just as a woman will read aloud the cut-ins at the movies. The
+one who is doing the reading usually throws in little advance
+predictions of his own when the news is slow in coming, with the
+result that those in the back get the impression that the team has at
+least a "varied attack," effecting at times a field goal and a forward
+pass in the same play.
+
+A critical period in the game, as it comes dribbling in over the
+ticker, looks something like this:
+
+    YALE.PRINCTON.GAME....CHEKFMKL.......KLUNG.GOES.
+    AROUND.LEFT.END.FOR.A.GAIN.OF.YDS.....A.FORWARD.
+    PASS.TWEEDY.TO.KLUNG.NETS.....
+    (Ticker stops ticking).
+
+Murmurs of "Come on, there, whasser matter?"
+
+Some one suggests that the pass was illegal and that the whole team
+has been arrested.
+
+The ticker clears its throat. Br-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r
+
+The ticker stabs off a line of dots and begins:
+
+    "BOWIE.FIRST.RACE..MEASLES. FIRST..13.60..AND..
+     6.00.WHORTLEBERRY.SCND.PLACE.3.80..EMMA GOLDMAN,
+     THIRD..TIME.1.09.4.5.NON.START.PROCRASTINATION.
+     UNCLE TOM'S CABIN"
+
+A few choice remarks are passed in the privacy of the little circle,
+to just the effect that you would suspect.
+
+A newcomer elbows his way in and says: "What's the good word? Any
+score yet?" and some one replies: "Yes. The score now stands 206 to 0
+in favor of Notre Dame." This grim pleasantry is expressive of the
+sentiment of the group toward newcomers. It is each man for himself
+now.
+
+Br-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r!
+
+"Here she comes, now!" whispers the man who is hanging over the glass
+news terminal, reading aloud: "Yale-Princeton-Game-Second Quarter
+(Good-night, what became of that forward pass in the first quarter?)
+Yale's-ball-in-mid-field-Hornung-takes-ball-around-left-end-making-it¯
+first-down-Tinfoil-drops-back-for-a-try-at-a-field-goal.
+(Oh, boy! Come on, now!)"
+
+"Why the deuce do they try a field goal on the first down?" asks a
+querulous graduate-strategist. "Now, what he ought to do is to keep
+a-plugging there at tackle, where he has been going--"
+
+Br-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r!
+
+"Bet he missed it!" offers some one with vague gambling instincts.
+
+    "..INS.NEEDLES..1-1/4..ZINC..CON..4-1/2..WASHN..
+     THE CENSUS.OFFICE.ESTIMATES.THE CONSUMPTION.OF
+     COTTON.WASTE.IN.THE.MFGR.OF.AUTOMBLE.HOODS.AS.
+     66.991.059 LBS..INCLUDING.LINTERS.AND.HULL FIBER.."
+
+And just then some one comes in from the outside, all fresh and
+disagreeably cheery, and wants to know what the score is and if there
+have been many forward passes tried and who is playing quarter for
+Yale, and if any one has got a cigarette.
+
+It is really just the same sort of program as obtains in the big
+college club, only on a small scale. They are all watching the same
+game and they are all wishing the same thing and before their
+respective minds' eyes is the picture of the same stadium, with the
+swarm of queen bees and drones clinging to its sides. And every time
+that you, who are one of the cold and lucky ones with a real ticket,
+see a back break loose for a long run and hear the explosion of hoarse
+shouts that follows, you may count sixty and then listen to hear the
+echo from every big city in the country where the old boys have just
+got the news.
+
+
+
+
+XV
+
+A LITTLE DEBIT IN YOUR TONNEAU
+
+
+Motorists, as a class, are not averse to public discussion of their
+troubles. In fact, one often wonders how some of them ever get time to
+operate their cars, so tied up do they seem to be with these little
+experience-meetings, at which one man tells, with appropriate
+gestures, how he ran out of gas between Springfield and Worcester,
+while another gives a perfect bit of character acting to show just how
+the policeman on the outskirts of Trenton behaved.
+
+But there seems to be one phase of the motorist's trials which he
+never bares to the public. He will confide to you just how bad the
+gasoline was that he bought at the country garage; he will make it an
+open secret that he had four blow-outs on the way home from the
+country-club; but of one of his most poignant sorrows he never speaks.
+I refer to the guests who snuggle in his tonneau.
+
+Probably more irritations have arisen from the tonneau than from the
+tires, day in and day out, and yet you never hear a man say, "Well, I
+certainly had an unholy crew of camp-followers out with me
+to-day--friends of my wife." Say what you will, there is an innate
+delicacy in the average motorist, or such repression could not be.
+
+Consider the types of tonneau guests. They are as generic and
+fundamental as the spectrum and you will find them in Maine and New
+Mexico at the same time.
+
+There is the first, or major, classification, which may be designated
+as the Financially Paralyzed. Persons in this class, on stepping into
+your machine, automatically transfer all their money troubles to you.
+You become, for the duration of the ride, whether it be to the next
+corner or to Palm Beach, their financial guardian, and any little
+purchases which are incidental to the trip (such as three meals a day)
+belong to your list of running expenses. There seems to be something
+about the motion of the automobile that inhibits their ability to
+reach for their purses, and they become, if you want to be poetical
+about it, like clay in the hands of the potter. Whither thou goest
+they will go; thy check-book is their check-book. It is just like the
+one great, big, jolly family--of which you are the father and backer.
+
+Such people always make a great to-do about starting off on a trip.
+You call for them and they appear at the window and wave, to signify
+that they see you, and go through motions to show that just as soon as
+Clara has put on her leggings they will be down. Soon they appear,
+swathed in a tremendous quantity of motor wraps and veils (you can
+usually tell the guests in a car by the number of head-veils they
+wear) and get halfway down the walk, when Clara remembers her
+rain-coat and has to swish back upstairs, veils and all. Out again,
+and just as they get wedged into the tonneau, the elderly guest
+wonders if there is time for some one to run in again and tell Helma
+that if the Salvation Army man comes for the old magazines she is to
+tell him to come again to-morrow. By the time this message is relayed
+to Helma Garcia one solid half-hour has been dissipated from the cream
+of the morning. This does not prevent the guests from remarking, as
+the motor starts, that it certainly is a heavenly day and that it
+couldn't have been better if it had been ordered. Knowing the type,
+you can say to yourself that if the day _had_ been ordered you know
+who would have had to give the order and pay the check.
+
+From that time on, you are the moneyed interest behind the venture.
+Meals at road-houses, toll charges, evening papers, hot chocolates at
+the country drug store, hair net for Clara, and, of course, a liberal
+injection of gasoline on the way home, all of these items and about
+fourteen others come in your bailiwick. The guests have been asked out
+for a ride, and "findings is keepings." If you have money enough to
+run a car, you probably have money enough to support them for a day or
+so. That's only fair, isn't it?
+
+[Illustration: "He always has a quip to snap at you to keep you
+cheered up."]
+
+Under a sub-head (a), in this same category, come the guests who are
+stricken with _rigor mortis_ when there are any repairs to be made
+about the machine. Male offenders in this line are, of course, the
+only ones that can be dealt with here; putting on a tire is no job for
+women and children. But the man who is the life of the party in the
+tonneau throughout the trip, who thinks nothing of climbing all over
+the back of the car in imitation of a Roman charioteer, will suddenly
+become an advocate of the basic eight-hour working day which began
+just eight hours before, whenever there is a man's work to be done on
+one of the tires. He will watch you while you work, and always has a
+good word to say or a quip to snap at you to keep you cheered up, but
+when it comes to taking off his coat and lending a hand at the jack he
+is an Oriental incense-holder on the guest-room mantel. He admits in
+no uncertain tones, that he is a perfect dub when it comes to handling
+machinery and that he is more apt to be in the way at a time like this
+than not. And maybe he is right, after all.
+
+We next come to the class of tonneau-freight who are great believers
+in what Professor Muensterberg called "Auto-Suggestion." These people,
+although not seated in the driver's seat, have their own ideas on
+driving and spare no pains to put their theories in the form of
+suggestions. In justice to the Great Army of the Unemployed known as
+"guests" it must be admitted that a large percentage of these
+suggestions emanate from some member of the owner's family and not
+from outsiders. It is very often Mrs. Wife who is off-side in this
+play, but as she is usually in the tonneau, she comes under the same
+classification.
+
+There are various ways of framing suggestions to the driver from the
+back seat. They are all equally annoying. Among the best are:
+
+"For heaven's sake, George, turn in a little. There is a car behind
+that wants to pass us."
+
+"Look out where you're going, Stan."
+
+"Henry, if you don't slow down I'm going to get out and take the train
+back home."
+
+[Illustration: "If this is accompanied with a clutching gesture at the
+driver's arm, it is sure to throw him into a good humor."]
+
+If this is accompanied by a clutching gesture at the driver's arm it
+is sure to throw him into a good humor for the rest of the trip, so
+that a good time will be had by all present.
+
+Although guests are not so prone to make suggestions on the running of
+the car as are those who, through the safety of family connection, may
+do so without fear of bodily assault from the driver, nevertheless, a
+guest may, according to the code, lean over the back of the seat and
+slip little hints as to the route. Especially if one of them be
+entrusted with a Blue Book does this form of auto-suggestion become
+chronic.
+
+"It says here that we should have taken that road to the right back
+there by the Soldiers' Monument," informs the reader over your
+shoulder. Or--
+
+"Somehow this doesn't seem like the right road. Personally, I think
+that we ought to turn around and go back to the cross-roads."
+
+If it is Mrs. Wife in the tonneau who has her own ideas on the route,
+you might as well give in at her first suggestion, for the risk that
+she is right is too great to run. If she says that she would advise
+taking the lane that runs around behind that school-house, take it.
+Then, if it turns out to be a blind alley, you have the satisfaction
+of saying nothing, very eloquently and effectively. But if you refuse
+to take her suggestion, and your road turns out to be even halfway
+wrong, you might as well turn the wheel over to your little son and go
+South for the winter, for you will never hear the ultimate cry of
+triumph. Your season will practically be ruined. I can quote verbatim
+from the last affair of this kind:
+
+(Voice from the tonneau): "Albert, I think we ought to have taken the
+road at the left."
+
+"No, we hadn't."
+
+"I'm sure of it. I saw a sign which said: 'Paxton' on it."
+
+"No, you didn't."
+
+"Well, you wait and see."
+
+"I'm waiting."
+
+There is a silence for ten minutes, while the car jounces along a road
+which gets narrower and rockier.
+
+(Voice from the tonneau): "I suppose you think this is the way to
+Paxton?"
+
+"I certainly _do_."
+
+"Oh, you make me sick!"
+
+Silence and jounces.
+
+Sudden stop as the road ends at a silo.
+
+"I beg your pardon [addressed to a rustic], which is the road to
+Paxton?"
+
+"Paxton?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"The road to Paxton?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, you go back over the rud you just come over, about three mile,
+till you come to a rud turnin' off to the right with a sign which says
+'Paxton.'"
+
+(Voice from the tonneau, beginning at this point and continuing all of
+the way back, all the rest of the day and night, and until snow
+falls): "_There!_ what did I tell you? But, oh no, you know it all.
+Didn't I tell you"--etc., etc.
+
+On the whole, it would seem that the artists who draw the automobile
+advertisements make a mistake in drawing the tonneau so roomy and so
+full of people. There should be no tonneau.
+
+
+
+
+XVI
+
+A ROMANCE IN ENCYCLOPÆDIA LAND
+
+_Written After Three Hours' Browsing in a New Britannica Set_
+
+
+Picture to yourself an early spring afternoon along the banks of the
+river Aa, which, rising in the Teutoburger Wald, joins the Werre at
+Herford and is navigable as far as St. Omer.
+
+Branching _bryophytu_ spread their flat, dorsi-ventral bodies, closely
+applied to the sub-stratum on which they grew, and leafy carophyllaceæ
+twined their sepals in prodigal profusion, lending a touch of color to
+the scene. It was clear that nature was in preparation for her
+estivation.
+
+[Illustration: "Was playing softly to himself on a double curtail or
+converted bass-pommer."]
+
+But it was not this which attracted the eye of the young man who,
+walking along the phonolithic formation of the river-bank, was playing
+softly to himself on a double curtail, or converted bass-pommer, an
+octave below the single curtail and therefore identical in pitch and
+construction with the early _fagotto_ in C.
+
+His mind was on other things.
+
+He was evidently of Melanochronic extraction, with the pentagonal
+facial angle and strong obital ridges, but he combined with this the
+fine lines of a full-blooded native of Coll, where, indeed, he was
+born, seven miles west of Caliach Point, in Mull, and in full view of
+the rugged gneiss.
+
+As he swung along, there throbbed again and again through his brain
+the beautiful opening paragraph of Frantisek Palacky's (1798-1876)
+"_Zur böhmischen Geschichtschreibung_" (Prague, 1871), written just
+after the author had refused a portfolio in the Pillersdorf Cabinet
+and had also declined to take part in the preliminary diet at
+Kromerice.
+
+"If _he_ could believe such things, why can not I?" murmured the young
+man, and crushed a ginkgo beneath his feet. Young men are often so. It
+is due to the elaterium of spring.
+
+"By Ereshkigal," he swore softly to himself, "I'll do it."
+
+No sooner had he spoken than he came suddenly out of the tangle of
+gymnosperms through whose leaves, needle-like and destitute of
+oil-glands as they were, he had been making his way, and emerged to a
+full view of the broad sweep of the Lake of Zug, just where the Lorze
+enters at its northern extremity and one and a quarter miles east of
+where it issues again to pursue its course toward the Reuss. Zug, at
+this point, is 1,368 feet above sea-level, and boasted its first
+steamer in 1852.
+
+"Well," he sighed, as he gazed upon the broad area of subsidence, "if
+I were now an exarch, whose dignity was, at one time, intermediate
+between the Patriarchal and the Metropolitan and from whose name has
+come that of the politico-religious party, the Exarchists, I should
+not be here day-dreaming. I should be far away in Footscray, a city of
+Bourke County, Victoria, Australia, pop. (1901) 18,301."
+
+[Illustration: "He came suddenly out of the tangle of gymnosperms."]
+
+And as he said this his eyes filled with tears, and under his skin,
+brown as fustic, there spread a faint flush, such as is often formed
+by citrocyde, or by pyrochloric acid when acting on uncured leather.
+
+Far down in the valley the natives were celebrating the birthday of
+Gambrinus, a mythical Flemish king who is credited with the first
+brewing of beer. The sound of their voices set in motion longitudinal
+sound waves, and these, traveling through the surrounding medium, met
+the surface separating two media and were in part reflected, traveling
+back from the surface into the first medium again with the velocity
+with which they approached it, as depicted in Fig. 10. This caused the
+echo for which the Lake of Zug is justly famous.
+
+The twilight began to deepen and from far above came the twinkling
+signals of, first, Böotes, then Coma Berenices, followed, awhile
+later, by Ursa Major and her little brother, Ursa Minor.
+
+"The stars are clear to-night," he sighed. "I wonder if they are
+visible from the dacite elevation on which SHE lives."
+
+His was an untrained mind. His only school had been the Eleatic
+School, the contention of which was that the true explanation of
+things lies in the conception of a universal unity of being, or the
+All-ness of One.
+
+But he knew what he liked.
+
+In the calm light of the stars he felt as if a uban had been lifted
+from his heart, 5 ubans being equal to 1 quat, 6 quats to 1 ammat and
+120 ammats to 1 sos.
+
+He was free again.
+
+Turning, he walked swiftly down into the valley, passing returning
+peasants with their baa-poots, and soon came in sight of the shining
+lamps of the small but carefully built pooroos which lined the road.
+
+[Illustration: "She turned like a frightened aardvark." (Male, greatly
+reduced.)]
+
+Reaching the corner he saw the village epi peering over the tree-tops,
+and swarms of cicada, with the toothed famoras of their anterior legs
+mingling in a sleepy drone, like many cichlids. It was all very
+home-like to the wanderer.
+
+Suddenly there appeared on a neighboring eminence a party of guisards,
+such as, during the Saturnalia, and from the Nativity till the
+Epiphany were accustomed to disport themselves in odd costumes; all
+clad in clouting, and evidently returning from taking part in the
+celebration.
+
+[Illustration: "Barnaby Bernard Weenix." (1777-1829.)]
+
+As they drew nearer, our hero noticed a young woman in the front rank
+who was playing folk-songs on a cromorne with a double-reed
+mouth-piece enclosed in an air-reservoir.
+
+In spite of the detritus wrought by the festival, there was something
+familiar about the buccinator of her face and her little mannerism of
+elevating her second phalanx. It struck him like the flash of a cloud
+highly charged by the coalescence of drops of vapor. He approached
+her, tenderly, reverently.
+
+[Illustration: "Why not to Wem?" (From a contemporaneous print.)]
+
+"Lange, Anne Françoise Elizabeth," he said, "I know you. You are a
+French actress, born in Genoa on the seventeenth of September, 1772,
+and you made your first appearance on the stage in _L'Ecossaise_ in
+1788. Your talent and your beauty gave you an enormous success in
+_Pamela_. It has taken me years to find you, but now we are united at
+last."
+
+The girl turned like a frightened aardvark, still holding the
+cromorne in her hand. Then she smiled.
+
+"Weenix, Barnaby Bernard (1777-1829)," she said very slowly, "you
+started business as a publisher in London about 1797."
+
+They looked at each other for a moment in silence. He was the first to
+speak.
+
+"Miss Lange, Anne," he said, "let us go together to Lar--and be happy
+there--happy as two ais, or three-toed South American sloths."
+
+She lowered her eyes.
+
+"I will go with you Mr. Weenix-Barney," she said, "to the ends of the
+earth. But why to Lar? Why not to Wem?"
+
+"Because," said the young man, "Lar is the capital of Laristan, in 27
+degrees, 30 minutes N., 180 miles from Shiraz, and contains an old
+bazaar consisting of four arcades each 180 feet long."
+
+Their eyes met, and she placed her hands in his.
+
+And, from the woods, came the mellow whinnying of a herd of vip, the
+wool of which is highly valued for weaving.
+
+
+
+
+XVII
+
+THE PASSING OF THE ORTHODOX PARADOX
+
+
+Whatever irreparable harm may have been done to Society by the recent
+epidemic of crook, sex and other dialect plays, one great alleviation
+has resulted. They have driven up-stage, for the time being, the
+characters who exist on tea and repartee in "The drawing-room of Sir
+Arthur Peaversham's town house, Grosvenor Square. Time: late Autumn."
+
+A person in a crook play may have talked underworld patois which no
+self-respecting criminal would have allowed himself to utter, but he
+did not sit on a divan and evolve abnormal _bons mots_ with each and
+every breath. The misguided and misinformed daughter in the Self and
+Sex Play may have lisped words which only an interne should hear, but
+she did not offer a succession of brilliant but meaningless paradoxes
+as a substitute for real conversation.
+
+Continuously snappy back-talk is now encountered chiefly in such acts
+as those of "Cooney & LeBlanc, the Eccentric Comedy Dancing Team."
+
+And even _they_ manage to scrape along without the paradoxes.
+
+But there was a time, beginning with the Oscar Wilde era, when no
+unprotected thought was safe.
+
+[Illustration: "Snappy back-talk is now encountered chiefly in such
+acts as 'Cooney & LeBlanc, the Eccentric Comedy Dancing Team.'"]
+
+It might be seized at any moment by an English Duke or a Lady Agatha
+and strangled to death. Even the butlers in the late 'eighties were
+wits, and served epigrams with cucumber sandwiches; and a person
+entering one of these drawing-rooms and talking in connected
+sentences--easily understood by everybody--each with one subject,
+predicate and meaning, would have been looked upon as a high class
+moron. One might as well have gone to a dinner at Lady Coventry's
+without one's collar, as without one's kit of trained paradoxes.
+
+[Illustration: "The butlers served epigrams with the cucumber
+sandwiches."]
+
+A late Autumn afternoon in one of these semi-Oscar Wilde plays, for
+instance, would run something like this:
+
+
+SCENE--_The Octagon Room in Lord Raymond Eaveston's Manor House in
+Stropshire._
+
+LADY EAVESTON and SIR THOMAS WAFFLETON _are discovered, arranging red
+flowers in a vase_.
+
+SIR T.: I detest red flowers; they are so yellow.
+
+LADY E.: What a cynic you are, Sir Thomas. I really must not listen to
+you or I shall hear something that you say.
+
+SIR T.: Not at all, my dear Lady Eaveston. I detest people who listen
+closely; they are so inattentive.
+
+LADY E.: Pray do not be analytical, my dear Sir Thomas. When people
+are extremely analytical with me I am sure that they are superficial,
+and, to me, nothing is more abominable than superficiality, unless
+perhaps it is an intolerable degree of thoroughness.
+
+(_Enter Meadows, the Butler_)
+
+MEADOWS (_announcing_): Sir Mortimer Longley and Mrs. Wrennington,--a
+most remarkable couple,--I may say in announcing them,--in that there
+is nothing at all remarkable about them.
+
+(_Enter Sir Mortimer and Mrs. Wrennington_)
+
+MRS. W.: So sorry to be late, dear Lady Eaveston. But it is so easy to
+be on time that I always make it a point to be late. It lends poise,
+and poise is a charming quality for any woman to have, am I not right,
+Sir Thomas?
+
+SIR T.: You are always right, my dear Mrs. Wrennington, and never more
+so than now, for I know of no more attractive attribute than poise,
+unless perhaps it be embarrassment.
+
+LADY E.: What horrid cynics you men are! Really, Sir Thomas, one might
+think, from your sophisticated remarks that you had been brought up in
+the country and had seen nothing of life.
+
+SIR T.: And so I _have_ been, my dear Lady Eaveston. To my mind,
+London is nothing but the country, and certainly Stropshire is nothing
+but a metropolis. The difference is, that when one is in town, one
+lives with others, and when one is in the country, others live with
+one. And both plans are abominable.
+
+MRS. W.: What a horrid combination! I hate horrid combinations; they
+always turn out to be so extremely pleasant.
+
+(_Enter Meadows_)
+
+MEADOWS (_announcing_): Sir Roland Pinshamton; Viscount Lemingham;
+Countess Trotski and Mr. Peters. In announcing these parties I cannot
+refrain from remarking that it has always been my opinion that a man
+who intends to get married should either know something or nothing,
+preferably both.
+
+(_Exit Meadows_)
+
+COUNTESS T.: So sorry to be late, my dear Lady Eaveston. It was
+charmingly tolerant of you to have us.
+
+LADY E.: Invitations are never tolerant, my dear Countess; acceptances
+always are. But do tell me, how is your husband, the Count,--or
+perhaps he is no longer your husband. One never knows these days
+whether a man is his wife's husband or whether she is simply his wife.
+
+COUNTESS T. (_lighting a cigarette_): Really, Lady Eaveston, you grow
+more and more interesting. I detest interesting people; they are so
+hopelessly uninteresting. It is like beautiful people--who are usually
+so singularly unbeautiful. Has not that been your experience, Sir
+Mortimer?
+
+SIR M.: May I have the pleasure of escorting you to the music-room,
+Mrs. Wrennington?
+
+(_Exeunt omnes to music-room for dinner_)
+
+Curtain.
+
+
+It is from this that we have, in a measure, been delivered by the
+court-room scenes, and all the medical dramas. But the paradox still
+remains intrenched in English writing behind Mr. G.K. Chesterton, and
+he may be considered, by literary tacticians, as considerable
+stronghold.
+
+Here again we find our commonplaces shaken up until they emerge in
+what looks like a new and tremendously imposing shape, and all of them
+ostensibly proving the opposite of what we have always understood. If
+we do not quite catch the precise meaning at first reading, we lay it
+to our imperfect perception and try to do better on the next one. It
+seldom occurs to us that it really may have no meaning at all and
+never was intended to have any, any more than the act of hanging by
+your feet from parallel bars has any further significance than that
+you can manage to do it.
+
+So, before retiring to the privacy of our personal couches, let us
+thank an all wise Providence, that the drama-paradox has passed away.
+
+
+
+
+XVIII
+
+SHAKESPEARE EXPLAINED
+
+_Carrying on the System of Footnotes to a Silly Extreme_
+
+
+PERICLES
+
+ACT II. SCENE 3
+
+_Enter first Lady-in-Waiting_ (_Flourish_,^1 _Hautboys_^2 _and_^3
+_torches_^4).
+
+_First Lady-in-Waiting_--What^5 ho!^6 Where^7 is^8 the^9 music?^10
+
+
+NOTES
+
+1. _Flourish_: The stage direction here is obscure. Clarke claims it
+should read "flarish," thus changing the meaning of the passage to
+"flarish" (that is, the King's), but most authorities have agreed that
+it should remain "flourish," supplying the predicate which is to be
+flourished. There was at this time a custom in the countryside of
+England to flourish a mop as a signal to the passing vender of
+berries, signifying that in that particular household there was a
+consumer-demand for berries, and this may have been meant in this
+instance. That Shakespeare was cognizant of this custom of flourishing
+the mop for berries is shown in a similar passage in the second part
+of King Henry IV, where he has the Third Page enter and say,
+"Flourish." Cf. also Hamlet, IV, 7:4.
+
+[Illustration: "Might be one of the hautboys bearing a box of
+"trognies" for the actors to suck."]
+
+2. _Hautboys_, from the French _haut_, meaning "high" and the Eng.
+_boys_, meaning "boys." The word here is doubtless used in the sense
+of "high boys," indicating either that Shakespeare intended to convey
+the idea of spiritual distress on the part of the First
+Lady-in-Waiting or that he did not. Of this Rolfe says: "Here we have
+one of the chief indications of Shakespeare's knowledge of human
+nature, his remarkable insight into the petty foibles of this
+work-a-day world." Cf. T.N. 4:6, "Mine eye hath play'd the painter,
+and hath stell'd thy beauty's form in table of my heart."
+
+3. _and_. A favorite conjunctive of Shakespeare's in referring to the
+need for a more adequate navy for England. Tauchnitz claims that it
+should be pronounced "und," stressing the anti-penult. This
+interpretation, however, has found disfavor among most commentators
+because of its limited significance. We find the same conjunctive in
+A.W.T.E.W. 6:7, "Steel-boned, unyielding _and_ uncomplying virtue,"
+and here there can be no doubt that Shakespeare meant that if the King
+should consent to the marriage of his daughter the excuse of Stephano,
+offered in Act 2, would carry no weight.
+
+4. _Torches_. The interpolation of some foolish player and never the
+work of Shakespeare (Warb.). The critics of the last century have
+disputed whether or not this has been misspelled in the original, and
+should read "trochies" or "troches." This might well be since the
+introduction of tobacco into England at this time had wrought havoc
+with the speaking voices of the players, and we might well imagine
+that at the entrance of the First Lady-in-Waiting there might be
+perhaps one of the hautboys mentioned in the preceding passage bearing
+a box of troches or "trognies" for the actors to suck. Of this
+entrance Clarke remarks: "The noble mixture of spirited firmness and
+womanly modesty, fine sense and true humility, clear sagacity and
+absence of conceit, passionate warmth and sensitive delicacy, generous
+love and self-diffidence with which Shakespeare has endowed this First
+Lady-in-Waiting renders her in our eyes one of the most admirable of
+his female characters." Cf. M.S.N.D. 8:9, "That solder'st close
+impossibilities and mak'st them kiss."
+
+5. _What_--What.
+
+6._Ho!_. In conjunction with the preceding word doubtless means "What
+ho!" changed by Clarke to "What hoo!" In the original MS. it reads
+"What hi!" but this has been accredited to the tendency of the time to
+write "What hi" when "what ho" was meant. Techner alone maintains that
+it should read "What humpf!" Cf. Ham. 5:0, "High-ho!"
+
+7. _Where_. The reading of the folio, retained by Johnson, the
+Cambridge editors and others, but it is not impossible that
+Shakespeare wrote "why," as Pope and others give it. This would make
+the passage read "Why the music?" instead of "Where is the music?"
+and would be a much more probable interpretation in view of the music
+of that time. Cf. George Ade. Fable No. 15, "Why the gunny-sack?"
+
+8. _is_--is not. That is, would not be.
+
+9. _the_. Cf. Ham.4:6. M.S.N.D. 3:5. A.W.T.E.W. 2:6. T.N. 1:3 and
+Macbeth 3:1, "that knits up _the_ raveled sleeves of care."
+
+10. _music_. Explained by Malone as "the art of making music" or
+"music that is made." If it has but one of these meanings we are
+inclined to think it is the first; and this seems to be favored by
+what precedes, "_the_ music!" Cf. M. of V. 4:2, "The man that hath no
+music in himself."
+
+The meaning of the whole passage seems to be that the First
+Lady-in-Waiting has entered, concomitant with a flourish, hautboys and
+torches and says, "What ho! Where is the music?"
+
+
+
+
+XIX
+
+THE SCIENTIFIC SCENARIO
+
+
+Sooner or later some one is going to come out and say that the movies
+are too low-brow. I can just see it coming. Maybe some one has said it
+already, without its having been brought to my attention, as I have
+been very busy for the past two weeks on my yearly accounts (my
+accounts for the year 1920, I mean. What with one thing and another, I
+am a bit behind in my budget system).
+
+And whenever this denouncement of the movies takes place, the first
+thing that is going to be specifically criticized is the type of story
+which is now utilized for scenarios. How can a nation hope to inject
+any culture in the minds of its people if it feeds them with
+moving-picture stories dealing with elemental emotions like love,
+hate, and a passion for evening-dress? Scenarios to-day have no
+cultural background. That's the trouble with them. They have no
+cultural background.
+
+Now, if we are to make the movies count for anything in the mental
+development of our people, we must build them of sterner stuff. We
+must make them from stories and books which are of the mind rather
+than of the body. The action should be cerebral, rather than physical,
+and instead of thrilling at the sight of two horsemen galloping along
+a cliff, we should be given the opportunity of seeing two opposing
+minds doing a rough-and-tumble on the edge of a nice problem in
+Dialectics or Metaphysics.
+
+I would suggest as a book, from which a pretty little scenario might
+be made, "The Education of Henry Adams." This volume has had a
+remarkable success during the past year among the highly educated
+classes. Public library records show that more people have lied about
+having read it than any other book in a decade. It contains five
+hundred pages of mental masochism, in which the author tortures
+himself for not getting anywhere in his brain processes. He just
+simply can't seem to get any further than the evolution of an
+elementary Dynamic Theory of History or a dilettante dabbling with a
+Law of Acceleration. And he came of a bright family, too.
+
+I don't go in much for scenario writing myself, but I am willing to
+help along the cause of better moving-pictures by offering herewith an
+outline for a six-reel feature entitled "THE EDUCATION OF HENRY ADAMS;
+or WHY MINDS GO WRONG."
+
+
+_CAST OF CHARACTERS_
+
+_Henry Adams._
+
+_Left Frontal Brain Lobe._
+
+_Right Frontal Brain Lobe._
+
+_Manservant._
+
+_Crowd of Villagers, Reflexes, Complexes, and Mental Processes._
+
+
+The first scene is, according to the decorated caption: "IN THE
+HARVARD COLLEGE STUDY OF HENRY ADAMS, SCION OF AN OLD NEW ENGLAND
+FAMILY, THE NIGHT BEFORE THE BIG CEREBRAL FUNCTION OF HIS YOUNG
+MANHOOD."
+
+Henry Adams, a Junior, is discovered sitting at his desk in his room
+in Holworthy Hall. He has a notebook on the Glacial Period and
+Palæontology open in front of him. He is thinking of his Education.
+(_Flash-back showing courses taken since Freshman year. Pianist plays
+"Carry Me Back to Old Virginie."_) He bites his under lip and turns a
+page of his notes.
+
+Caption: "DOES TRANSCENDENTALISM HOLD THE KEY?... I WONDER...."
+
+(_Fade-out showing him biting his upper lip, still thinking_.)
+
+The second scene is laid in Rome.
+
+Caption: "HERE, AFTER A YEAR'S WANDERING THROUGH THE HAPPY, SMILING
+LANDS OF EUROPE, COMES YOUNG HENRY ADAMS IN HIS SEARCH FOR EDUCATION.
+AND NOW, IN THE SHADOW OF ANCIENT ROME, HE FINDS PEACE, BUT NOT THAT
+PEACE FOR WHICH HE SOUGHT."
+
+[Illustration: "Thrilling moment in 'The Education of Henry Adams.'"]
+
+He is discovered sitting on a rock among the ruins of the Capitol,
+thinking. He tosses a pebble from one hand to another and scowls. The
+shadows deepen, and he rises, passing his hand across his brow.
+(_Flash-back showing the Latin verbs which govern the dative case.
+Pianist plays: "The March of the Jolly Grenadiers."_)
+
+He walks slowly to the _Museo Nazionale_, where he stands pondering
+before a statue of Venus, thinking about Roman art and history--and
+about his Education.
+
+Caption: "CAN ALL THIS BE FITTED INTO A TIME-SEQUENCE? CAN RIENZI,
+GARIBALDI. TIBERIUS GRACCHUS, AURELIAN, ANY OF THESE FAMOUS NAMES OF
+ROME, BE ADAPTED TO A SYSTEMATIC SCHEME OF EVOLUTION? NO, NO ... A
+THOUSAND TIMES, NO!"
+
+He sinks down on a rock and weeps bitterly.
+
+The next scene is in England and our hero is found sitting at a desk
+in his study in London. He is gazing into space--thinking.
+
+Caption: "AND SO, ALL THROUGH THE LONG, WEARY SUMMER, HENRY ADAMS SAT,
+HEAD IN HAND, WONDERING IF DARWIN WAS RIGHT. TO HIM THE GLACIAL EPOCH
+SEEMED LIKE A YAWNING CHASM BETWEEN A UNIFORMITARIAN WORLD AND
+HIMSELF. IF THE GLACIAL PERIOD WERE UNIFORMITY, WHAT WAS
+CATASTROPHE?... AND TO THIS QUESTION, THE COOL OF THE SUMMER'S EVENING
+IN SHROPSHIRE BROUGHT NO RELIEF."
+
+He rises slowly and goes to the book-shelves, from which he draws a
+copy of "The Origin of Species." Placing it before him on the desk he
+turns the pages slowly until he comes to one which holds his
+attention.
+
+_Close-up of page 126, on which is read_: "It is notorious that
+specific characters are more variable than generic....
+
+                                       _Feet_
+
+    Palæzoic strata (not including     57,154
+      igneous beds)
+    Secondary strata                   13,190
+
+    Tertiary strata                     2,400"
+
+
+The book drops to the floor from his nerveless fingers and he buries
+his head in his arms, sobbing. (Music: _"When You and I Were Young,
+Maggie."_)
+
+"TWENTY YEARS AFTER ... HENRY ADAMS IS NO LONGER YOUNG, BUT IN HIS
+HEART LIES STILL THE HUNGER FOR EDUCATION. GOING FORWARD, EVER
+FORWARD, HE REALIZES AS NEVER BEFORE THAT WITHOUT THOUGHT IN THE UNIT,
+THERE CAN BE NO UNITY. THOUGHT ALONE IS FORM. MIND AND UNITY FLOURISH
+OR PERISH TOGETHER."
+
+(_Allegorical flash-back showing Mind and Unity perishing together._)
+
+The hero is now seen seated in a Morris chair in Washington, touching
+his finger-tips together in a ruminative manner. Arising slowly, he
+goes to the window and looks out over Lafayette Square. Then he lights
+a cigar and goes back to his chair. He is pondering and attempting to
+determine when, between 3000 B.C. and 1000 A.D. the momentum of Europe
+was greatest, as exemplified in mathematics by such masters as
+Archimedes, Aristarchus, Ptolemy and Euclid.
+
+(_Flash-back showing the mathematical theories of Archimedes,
+Aristarchus, Ptolemy and Euclid. Music: "Old Ireland Shall Be Free."_)
+
+Rising from his chair again, he paces the floor, clenching his hands
+behind his back in mute fury.
+
+Caption: "GOD HAVE MERCY ON ME! I CAN SEE IT ALL--I HAVE NEVER BEEN
+EDUCATED!"
+
+        NEXT WEEK: BERT LYTELL IN
+            "SARTOR RESARTUS"
+        A SMASHING SIX-REEL FEATURE
+              BY TOM CARLYLE
+
+
+
+
+XX
+
+THE MOST POPULAR BOOK OF THE MONTH
+
+NEW YORK CITY (including all Boroughs) TELEPHONE DIRECTORY--N.Y.
+Telephone Co., N.Y. 1920. 8vo. 1208 pp.
+
+
+In picking up this new edition of a popular favorite, the reviewer
+finds himself confronted by a nice problem in literary ethics. The
+reader must guess what it is.
+
+There may be said to be two classes of people in the world; those who
+constantly divide the people of the world into two classes, and those
+who do not. Both classes are extremely unpleasant to meet socially,
+leaving practically no one in the world whom one cares very much to
+know. This feeling is made poignant, to the point of becoming an
+obsession, by a careful reading of the present volume.
+
+We are herein presented to some five hundred thousand characters, each
+one deftly drawn in a line or two of agate type, each one standing out
+from the rest in bold relief. It is hard to tell which one is the most
+lovable. In one mood we should say _W.S. Custard_ of Minnieford Ave.
+In another, more susceptible frame of mind, we should stand by the
+character who opens the book and who first introduces us into this
+Kingdom of Make-Believe--_Mr. V. Aagaard_, the old "Impt. & Expt." How
+one seems to see him, impting and expting all the hot summer day
+through, year in and year out, always heading the list, but always
+modest and unassuming, always with a kindly word and a smile for
+passers-by on Broadway!
+
+[Illustration: "The most popular book on earth."]
+
+It is perhaps inaccurate to say that _V. Aagaard_ introduces us to the
+book. He is the first flesh-and-blood human being with whom the reader
+comes in contact, but the initial place in the line should
+technically go to the A. & A.A. Excelsior Co. Having given credit
+where credit is due, however, let us express our personal opinion that
+this name is a mere trick, designed to crowd out all other competitors
+in the field for the honor of being in the premiere position, for it
+must be obvious to any one with any perception at all that the name
+doesn't make sense. _No_ firm could be named the A. & A.A. Co., and
+the author of the telephone directory might better have saved his
+jokes until the body of the book. After all, Gelett Burgess does that
+sort of thing much better than any one else could hope to.
+
+But, beginning with _V. Aagaard_ and continuing through to _Mrs. L.
+Zyfers_ of Yettman Ave., the reader is constantly aware of the fact
+that here are real people, living in a real city, and that they
+represent a problem which must be faced.
+
+Sharp as we find the character etching in the book, the action,
+written and implied, is even more remarkable. Let us, for instance,
+take _Mr. Saml Dreyslinger_, whose business is "Furn Reprg," or _Peter
+Shalijian_, who does "pmphlt bindg." Into whose experience do these
+descriptions not fit? The author need only mention a man bindg pmphlts
+to bring back a flood of memories to each and every one of us--perhaps
+our old home town in New England where bindg pmphlts was almost a
+rite during the long winter months, as well as a social function of no
+mean proportions. It is the ability to suggest, to insinuate, these
+automatic memories on the part of the reader without the use of extra
+words that makes the author of this work so worthy of the name of
+craftsman in the literary annals of the day.
+
+Perhaps most deft of all is the little picture that is made of _Louise
+Winkler_, who is the village "sclp spclst." One does not have to know
+much medieval history to remember the position that the sclp spclst
+used to hold in the community during the Wars of the Roses. Or during
+Shay's Rebellion, for that matter. In those days, to be a sclp spclst
+was as important a post as that of "clb bdg stbls" (now done for New
+York City by Mr. Graham). People came from miles around to consult
+with the local sclp spclst on matters pertaining not only to sclps but
+to knt gds and wr whls, both of which departments of our daily life
+have now been delegated to separate agencies. Then gradually, with the
+growth of the trade guild movement, there came the Era of
+Specialization in Industry, and the high offices of the sclp spclst
+were dissipated among other trades, until only that coming strictly
+under the head of sclp speclzng remained. To this estate has _Miss
+Winkler_ come, and in that part of the book which deals with her and
+her work, we have, as it were, a little epic on the mutability of
+human endeavor. It is all too short, however, and we are soon
+thereafter plunged into the dreary round of expting and impting, this
+time through a character called _J. Wubbe_, who is interesting only in
+so far as he is associated with _M. Wrubel_ and _A.N. Wubbenhorst_,
+all of whom come together at the bottom of the column.
+
+The plot, in spite of whatever virtues may accrue to it from the acid
+delineation of the characters and the vivid action pictures, is the
+weakest part of the work. It lacks coherence. It lacks stability.
+
+Perhaps this is because of the nature of the book itself. Perhaps it
+is because the author knew too well his Dunsany. Or his Wells. Or his
+Bradstreet. But it is the opinion of the present reviewer that the
+weakness of plot is due to the great number of characters which
+clutter up the pages. The Russian school is responsible for this. We
+see here the logical result of a sedulous aping of those writers such
+as Tolstoi, Andreief, Turgenief, Dostoiefsky, or even Pushkin, whose
+_metier_ it was to fill the pages of their books with an inordinate
+number of characters, many of whom the reader was to encounter but
+once, let us say, on the Nevsky Prospekt or in the Smolny Institute,
+but all of whom added their peculiar names (we believe that we will
+not offend when we refer to Russian names as "peculiar") to the
+general confusion of the whole.
+
+In practice, the book is not flawless. There are five hundred thousand
+names, each with a corresponding telephone number. But, through some
+error in editing, the numbers are all wrong. Proof of this may be had
+by the simple expedient of calling up any one of the subscribers,
+using the number assigned by the author to that name. (Any name will
+do--let us say _Nicholas Wimpie_-Haxlem 2131.) If the call is put in
+bright and early in the morning, the report will come over the wire
+just as the lights are going on for evening of the same day that
+"Harlem 2131 does not answer." The other numbers are invariably
+equally unproductive of results. The conclusion is obvious.
+
+Aside from this point the book is a success.
+
+
+
+
+XXI
+
+CHRISTMAS AFTERNOON
+
+_Done in the Manner, if Not the Spirit, of Dickens_
+
+
+What an afternoon! Mr. Gummidge said that, in his estimation, there
+never had _been_ such an afternoon since the world began, a sentiment
+which was heartily endorsed by Mrs. Gummidge and all the little
+Gummidges, not to mention the relatives who had come over from Jersey
+for the day.
+
+In the first place, there was the _ennui_. And such _ennui_ as it was!
+A heavy, overpowering _ennui_, such as results from a participation in
+eight courses of steaming, gravied food, topping off with salted nuts
+which the little old spinster Gummidge from Oak Hill said she never
+knew when to stop eating--and true enough she didn't--a dragging,
+devitalizing _ennui_, which left its victims strewn about the
+living-room in various attitudes of prostration suggestive of those of
+the petrified occupants in a newly unearthed Pompeiian dwelling; an
+_ennui_ which carried with it a retinue of yawns, snarls and thinly
+veiled insults, and which ended in ruptures in the clan spirit serious
+enough to last throughout the glad new year.
+
+[Illustration: "What an afternoon!"]
+
+Then there were the toys! Three and a quarter dozen toys to be divided
+among seven children. Surely enough, you or I might say, to satisfy
+the little tots. But that would be because we didn't know the tots. In
+came Baby Lester Gummidge, Lillian's boy, dragging an electric
+grain-elevator which happened to be the only toy in the entire
+collection which appealed to little Norman, five-year-old son of
+Luther, who lived in Rahway. In came curly-headed Effie in frantic and
+throaty disputation with Arthur, Jr., over the possession of an
+articulated zebra. In came Everett, bearing a mechanical negro which
+would no longer dance, owing to a previous forcible feeding by the
+baby of a marshmallow into its only available aperture. In came
+Fonlansbee, teeth buried in the hand of little Ormond, which bore a
+popular but battered remnant of what had once been the proud
+false-bosom of a hussar's uniform. In they all came, one after
+another, some crying, some snapping, some pulling, some pushing--all
+appealing to their respective parents for aid in their intra-mural
+warfare.
+
+And the cigar smoke! Mrs. Gummidge said that she didn't mind the smoke
+from a good cigarette, but would they mind if she opened the windows
+for just a minute in order to clear the room of the heavy aroma of
+used cigars? Mr. Gummidge stoutly maintained that they were good
+cigars. His brother, George Gummidge, said that he, likewise, would
+say that they were. At which colloquial sally both the Gummidge
+brothers laughed testily, thereby breaking the laughter record for the
+afternoon.
+
+Aunt Libbie, who lived with George, remarked from the dark corner of
+the room that it seemed just like Sunday to her. An amendment was
+offered to this statement by the cousin, who was in the insurance
+business, stating that it was worse than Sunday. Murmurings indicative
+of as hearty agreement with this sentiment as their lethargy would
+allow came from the other members of the family circle, causing Mr.
+Gummidge to suggest a walk in the air to settle their dinner.
+
+And then arose such a chorus of protestations as has seldom been
+heard. It was too cloudy to walk. It was too raw. It looked like snow.
+It looked like rain. Luther Gummidge said that he must be starting
+along home soon, anyway, bringing forth the acid query from Mrs.
+Gummidge as to whether or not he was bored. Lillian said that she felt
+a cold coming on, and added that something they had had for dinner
+must have been undercooked. And so it went, back and forth, forth and
+back, up and down, and in and out, until Mr. Gummidge's suggestion of
+a walk in the air was reduced to a tattered impossibility and the
+entire company glowed with ill-feeling.
+
+In the meantime, we must not forget the children. No one else could.
+Aunt Libbie said that she didn't think there was anything like
+children to make a Christmas; to which Uncle Ray, the one with the
+Masonic fob, said, "No, thank God!" Although Christmas is supposed to
+be the season of good cheer, you (or I, for that matter) couldn't have
+told, from listening to the little ones, but what it was the
+children's Armageddon season, when Nature had decreed that only the
+fittest should survive, in order that the race might be carried on by
+the strongest, the most predatory and those posessing the best
+protective coloring. Although there were constant admonitions to
+Fonlansbee to "Let Ormond have that whistle now; it's his," and to
+Arthur, Jr., not to be selfish, but to "give the kiddie-car to Effie;
+she's smaller than you are," the net result was always that Fonlansbee
+kept the whistle and Arthur, Jr., rode in permanent, albeit disputed,
+possession of the kiddie-car. Oh, that we mortals should set ourselves
+up against the inscrutable workings of Nature!
+
+[Illustration: "Hallo! A great deal of commotion!"]
+
+Hallo! A great deal of commotion! That was Uncle George stumbling over
+the electric train, which had early in the afternoon ceased to
+function and which had been left directly across the threshold. A
+great deal of crying! That was Arthur, Jr., bewailing the destruction
+of his already useless train, about which he had forgotten until the
+present moment. A great deal of recrimination! That was Arthur, Sr.,
+and George fixing it up. And finally a great crashing! That was Baby
+Lester pulling over the tree on top of himself, necessitating the
+bringing to bear of all of Uncle Ray's knowledge of forestry to
+extricate him from the wreckage.
+
+And finally Mrs. Gummidge passed the Christmas candy around. Mr.
+Gummidge afterward admitted that this was a tactical error on the part
+of his spouse. I no more believe that Mrs. Gummidge thought they
+wanted that Christmas candy than I believe that she thought they
+wanted the cold turkey which she later suggested. My opinion is that
+she wanted to drive them home. At any rate, that is what she succeeded
+in doing. Such cries as there were of "Ugh! Don't let me see another
+thing to eat!" and "Take it away!" Then came hurried scramblings in
+the coat-closet for over-shoes. There were the rasping sounds made by
+cross parents when putting wraps on children. There were insincere
+exhortations to "come and see us soon" and to "get together for lunch
+some time." And, finally, there were slammings of doors and the
+silence of utter exhaustion, while Mrs. Gummidge went about picking up
+stray sheets of wrapping paper.
+
+And, as Tiny Tim might say in speaking of Christmas afternoon as an
+institution, "God help us, every one."
+
+
+
+
+XXII
+
+HAIL, VERNAL EQUINOX!
+
+
+If all that I hear is true, a great deal has been written, first and
+last, about that season which we slangily call "Spring"; but I don't
+remember ever having seen it done in really first-class form;--that
+is, in such a way that it left something with you to think over,
+something that you could put your finger on and say, "There, _there_
+is a Big, Vital Thought that I can carry away with me to my room."
+
+What Spring really needs is a regular press-agent sort of write-up,
+something with the Punch in it, an article that will make people sit
+up and say to themselves, "By George, there must be something in this
+Spring stuff, after all."
+
+What sort of popularity did Education have until correspondence
+schools and encyclopedias began to give publicity to it in their
+advertisements? Where would Music be to-day if it were not for the
+exhortations of the talking-machine and mechanical-piano companies
+telling, through their advertising-copy writers, of the spiritual
+exaltation that comes from a love of music? These things were all
+right in their way before the press-agent took hold of them, but they
+never could have hoped to reach their present position without him.
+
+Of course, all this has just been leading up to the point I want to
+make,--that something more ought to be written about Spring. When you
+consider that every one, including myself, agrees that _nothing_ more
+should be written about it, I think that I have done rather well to
+prove as much as I have so far. And, having got this deep into the
+thing, I can't very well draw back now.
+
+Well then, Spring is a great season. Nobody will gainsay me that.
+Without it, we should crash right from Winter into Summer with no
+chance to shift to light-weight underwear. I could write a whole piece
+about that phase of it alone, and, if I were pressed for things to
+say, I myself could enlarge on it now, making up imaginary
+conversation of people who have been caught in balbriggans by the
+first sweltering day of summer. But I have so many more things to say
+about Spring that I can't stop to bother with deadwood like that. Such
+literary fillerbusting should be left to those who are not so full of
+their subject as I am.
+
+In preparing for this article, I thought it best to look up a little
+on the technical side of Spring, about which so little is known, at
+least by me. And, would you believe it, the Encyclopedia Britannica,
+which claims in its advertisements not only to make its readers
+presidents of the Boards of Directors of any companies they may
+select, but also shows how easy it would be for Grandpa or Little Edna
+to carry the whole set about from room to room, if, by any possible
+chance they should ever want to, this same Encyclopedia Britannica
+makes no reference to Spring, except incidentally, along with Bed
+Springs and Bubbling Springs.
+
+This slight of one of our most popular seasons is probably due to the
+fact that Spring is not exclusively a British product and was not
+invented by a Briton. Had Spring been fortunate enough to have had the
+Second Earl of Stropshire-Stropshire-Stropshire as one of its
+founders, the Britannica could probably have seen its way clear to
+give it a five-page article, signed by the Curator of the Jade
+Department in the British Museum, and illustrated with colored plates,
+showing the effect of Spring on the vertical and transverse sections
+of the stamen of the South African Euphorbiceæ.
+
+I was what you might, but probably wouldn't, call stunned at not
+finding anything about the Season of Love in the encyclopedia, for
+without that assistance what sort of a scientific article could I do
+on the subject? I am not good at improvising as I go along, especially
+in astronomical matters. But we Americans are not so easily thwarted.
+Quick as a wink I looked up "Equinox."
+
+There is a renewed agitation of late to abolish Latin from our
+curricula. Had I not known my Latin I never could have figured out
+what "equinox" meant, and this article would never have been written.
+Take that, Mr. Flexner!
+
+While finding "equinox," however, I came across the word
+"equilibrium," which is the word before you come to "equinox," and I
+became quite absorbed in what it had to say on the matter. There were
+a great many things stated there that I had never dreamed before, even
+in my wildest vagaries on the subject of equilibrium. For instance,
+did you know that if you cover the head of a bird, "as in hooding a
+falcon" (do you remember the good old days when you used to run away
+from school to hood falcons?) the bird is deprived of the power of
+voluntary movement? Just think of that, deprived of the power of
+voluntary movement simply because its head is covered!
+
+And, as if this were not enough, it says that the same thing holds
+true of a fish! If you should ever, on account of a personal grudge,
+want to get the better of a fish, just sneak up to him on some
+pretext or other and suddenly cover its eyes with a cloth, and there
+you have it, helpless and unable to move. You may then insult it, and
+it can do nothing but tremble with rage.
+
+It is little practical things like this that you pick up in reading a
+good reference book, things that you would never get in ten years at
+college.
+
+For instance, take the word "equites," which follows "equinox" in the
+encyclopedia. What do you know about equites, Mr. Businessman? Of
+course, you remember in a vague way that they were Roman horsemen or
+something, but, in the broader sense of the word, could you have told
+that the term "equites" came, in the time of Gaius Gracchus, to mean
+any one who had four hundred thousand sesterces? No, I thought not.
+And yet that is a point which is apt to come up any day at the office.
+A customer from St. Paul might come in and, of course, you would take
+him out to lunch, hoping to land a big order. Where would you be if
+his hobby should happen to be "equites "? And if he should come out in
+the middle of the conversation with "By the way, do you remember how
+many sesterces it was necessary to have during the administration of
+Gaius Gracchus in order to belong to the Equites?" if you could snap
+right back at him with "Four hundred thousand, I believe," the order
+would be assured. And if, in addition, you could volunteer the
+information that an excellent account of the family life of the
+Equites could be found in Mommsen's "_Römisches Staatsrecht_," Vol. 3,
+your customer would probably not only sign up for a ten-year contract,
+but would insist on paying for the lunch.
+
+[Illustration: "If you could snap right back at him with 'Four hundred
+thousand, I believe,' the order would be assured."]
+
+But, of course, this has practically nothing to do with Spring, or, as
+the boys call it, the "vernal equinox." The vernal equinox is a
+serious matter. In fact, I think I may say without violating any
+confidence, that it is the initial point from which the right
+ascensions and the longitudes of the heavenly bodies are measured.
+This statement will probably bring down a storm of ridicule on my
+head, but look at how Fulton was ridiculed.
+
+In fact, I might go even further and say that the way to seek out
+Spring is not to trail along with the poets and essayists into the
+woods and fields and stand about in the mud until a half-clothed bird
+comes out and peeps. If you really want to be in on the official
+advent of Spring, you may sit in a nice warm observatory and, entirely
+free from head-colds, proceed with the following simple course:
+
+Take first the conception of a fictitious point which we shall call,
+for fun, the Mean Equinox. This Mean Equinox moves at a nearly uniform
+rate, slowly varying from century to century.
+
+Now here comes the trick of the thing. The Mean Equinox is merely a
+decoy, and, once you have determined it, you shift suddenly to the
+True Equinox which you can tell, according to Professor A.M. Clerk's
+treatise on the subject, because it moves around the Mean Equinox in a
+period equal to that of the moon's nodes. Now all you have to do is to
+find out what the moon's nodes are (isn't it funny that you can be as
+familiar with an object as you are with the moon and see it almost
+every night, and yet never know that it has even one node, not to
+mention nodes?) and then find out how fast they move. This done and
+you have discovered the Vernal Equinox, or Spring, and without
+spilling a dactyl.
+
+[Illustration: "On the subject of spring's arrival intuition may be
+led astray."]
+
+How much simpler this is than the old, romantic way of determining
+when Spring had come! A poet has to depend on his intuition for
+information, and, on the subject of Spring's arrival, intuition may be
+led astray by any number of things. You may be sitting over one of
+those radiators which are concealed under window-seats, for instance,
+and before you are aware of it feel what you take to be the first
+flush of Spring creeping over you. It would be obviously premature to
+go out and write a poem on Youth and Love and Young Onions on the
+strength of that.
+
+I once heard of a young man who in November discovered that he had an
+intellectual attachment for a certain young woman and felt that
+married life with her would be without doubt a success. But he could
+never work himself up into sufficient emotional enthusiasm to present
+the proposition to her in phrases that he knew she had been accustomed
+to receive from other suitors. He knew that she wouldn't respond to a
+proposal of marriage couched in terms of a real estate transaction.
+Yet such were the only ones that he felt himself capable of at the
+moment under the prevailing weather conditions. So, knowing something
+of biology, he packed his little bag and rented an alcove in a nearby
+green-house, where he basked in the intensified sun-warmth and odor of
+young tube roses, until with a cry, he smashed the glass which
+separated him from his heart's desire and tore around the corner to
+her house, dashing in the back door and flinging himself at her feet
+as she was whipping some cream, and there poured forth such a torrent
+of ardent sentiments that there was really nothing that the poor girl
+could do but marry him that afternoon.
+
+[Illustration: "Spring."]
+
+In fact, if you want to speak astronomically (some people do), you may
+define Spring even more definitely. Since we are all here together,
+and good friends, let us take the center of the earth as origin, and,
+once we have done this, the most natural fundamental axis is,
+obviously, the earth's rotation. The fundamental plane perpendicular
+to it is the plane of the equator. That goes without saying.
+
+Now, here we go! Coördinates referred to in this system are termed
+equatorial, and I think that you will agree with me that nothing could
+be fairer than that. Very well, then. Since this is so, we may define
+Spring by the following geometric representation in which the angle
+ZOP, made by the radius vector with the fundamental plane, shows a
+springlike tendency.
+
+This drawing we may truthfully entitle "Spring," and while it hasn't
+perhaps the color found in Botticelli's painting of the same name, yet
+it just as truthfully represents Spring in these parts as do the
+unstable sort of ladies in the more famous picture.
+
+I only wish that I had more space in which to tell what my heart is
+full of in connection with this subject. I really have only just
+begun.
+
+
+
+
+TABLOID EDITIONS
+
+
+
+
+THE AMERICAN MAGAZINE
+
+
+What I Have Made Myself Learn About You
+
+Being An Account of How One Business Man Made the
+       Little Things Count. Do You?
+
+
+My business (rubber goods) was in a bad way. Somehow I couldn't seem
+to make it return enough to pay my income tax with. My wife and I were
+frankly upset.
+
+At last one morning she came to me and said: "Fred, the baby will soon
+be seven months old and will have to have some sort of vocational
+training. What are we to do?"
+
+That night was the bluest night I have ever spent. I thought that the
+end had come. Then, suddenly, the thought struck me: "Why not try
+character-selling?"
+
+This may sound foolish to you. That is because it is foolish. But it
+did the trick.
+
+I began to sell my personality. Every man that came into my store I
+took aside and showed him different moods. First, I would tell him a
+funny story, to prove to him that I was more than a mere business
+automaton. Then I would relate a pathetic incident I had seen on the
+street a week or two ago. This disclosed my heart. Then I did a
+fragment of a bare-foot dance and sketched a caricature of Lloyd
+George, to let him see that I was a man of the world. After this, I
+was ready to sell him what he came in for, and he would go away
+carrying a very definite impression of my personal
+characteristics--and some of my goods, in a bundle.
+
+A week of selling rubber-goods in this manner, and I was on the
+vaudeville stage, earning $250 a week. How much do _you_ earn?
+
+
+Interesting People
+
+A Man Who Made Good With Newts
+
+
+Some day, if you ever happen to be in Little Falls, turn to your right
+and you will see a prosperous-looking establishment run by Ira S.
+Whip, known throughout Little Falls as the newt king. Starting in with
+practically nothing but two congenial newts, Mr. Whip has, in the past
+ten years, raised no less than 4,000 of these little lizard-like
+animals, all of which had to be thrown away, as there is practically
+no market for pet newts except for incidental rôles in gold-fish
+tanks. But Mr. Whip did what he set out to do, and that counts for a
+lot in this life. Can you say as much?
+
+
+The Man Who Made Good
+
+The story of a man who made good
+
+
+Lorrie Wetmore sat disconsolately in the fountain in Madison Square
+Park. He was lonely. He was a failure.... Yes, he was. Don't
+contradict me. He was a terrible failure. And, as I said before, early
+in this story, he was lonely.
+
+"I have fallen down on the job," he murmured to Admiral Farragut's
+statue. "I have not made good."
+
+Suddenly a kind hand rested on his shoulder. He turned to face the
+pansy-trainer, who keeps the flower-beds in the Park in touch with the
+seasons.
+
+"Don't give in, my boy," said the old man. "Remember the words of
+Henley, who instituted the famous Henley Regatta and so made a name
+for himself: 'I am the master of my Fate. I am the Captain of my
+Soul.'"
+
+"By George," murmured Lorrie to the statue of Salmon P. Chase, "I
+_can_ make good, and I _will_ make good!"
+
+And, with these words, he climbed out of the fountain and made his way
+resolutely across the square to the great store of Marshall Field and
+Co. (Advt.)
+
+In seven weeks he was a member of the firm.
+
+
+Are You Between the Ages of 7 and 94?
+
+If so, what this eminent growth specialist says here applies
+       directly to you and to your family
+
+
+Every man, woman and child between the ages of 7 and 94 is going
+through a process of growth or metamorphosis, whether they know it or
+not. Are you making the most of this opportunity which is coming to
+you (if your age falls within the magic circle given above) every day
+of your life? Do you realize that, during this crucial period, you
+have it in your power to make what you will of yourself, provided only
+that you know how to go about it and make no false steps?
+
+As you grow from day to day, either mentally, morally, or physically,
+you can say to yourself, on awakening in the morning:
+
+"To-day I will develop. I will grow bigger, either mentally, morally
+or physically. Maybe, if it is a nice, warm day, I will grow in all
+three ways at once."
+
+And, sure enough, when evening finds you returning home from the work
+of the day, it will also find you in some way changed from the person
+you were in the morning, either through the shedding of the dry
+epidermis from the backs of your hands (which, according to one of
+Nature's most wonderful processes, is replaced by new epidermis as
+soon as the old is gone), or through the addition of a fraction of an
+inch to your height or girth, or through some other of the inscrutable
+alchemies of Nature.
+
+Think this over as you go to work, to-day, and see if it doesn't tell
+_you_ something about _your_ problem.
+
+
+How I Put Myself on the Map
+
+It was seven o'clock at night when I first struck New York. I had come
+from a Middle Western town to make my fortune as a writer, and I was
+already discouraged. I knew no one in the Big City, and had been
+counting on my membership in the National Geographic Society to find
+me friends among my fellow-members in town. But I soon discovered that
+the fraternity spirit in the East was much less cordial than in my
+home district, and I realized, too late, that I was all alone.
+
+With a few coins that my father had slipped into my hand as I left
+home, I engaged a tiny suite at the St. Regis and there set about my
+writing.
+
+The first 10,000 manuscripts which I sent out, I now have. (I am at
+present working them over into a serial for the _Saturday Evening
+Post_ weekly, from which I expect to make $25,000). But that is
+beside the point. For the purposes of the present narrative, I was a
+failure. The manager of the hotel was pressing me for my rent, which
+was already several hours overdue. I had not tipped the chamber-maid
+since breakfast. I sat looking out at my window, staring at the
+squalid wall of the Hotel Ritz. I had met New York face to face--and I
+had lost.
+
+No, not lost! There was still one chance left I sat down and, with
+feverish haste, wrote out a glowing account of my failure. I spared no
+detail of my degradation, even to taking fruit from the hotel table to
+my room.
+
+Then I began to fabricate. I told how I had overcome all these
+handicaps and had made a success of myself. I lied. I said that I was
+now drawing down $200,000 a year, but that I had never forgotten my
+old friends. It was a good yarn, but it took me a long while to make
+it up. And when, at last, it was ready, I sent it to the _American
+Magazine_.
+
+This is it!
+
+
+How Insane Are You?
+
+Following is a test used in all State Hospitals to determine the
+fitness of the inmates for occasional shore leave. Try it on yourself
+and see where you get off.
+
+
+TEST NO. 1
+
+If you really are the reincarnation of Learning, write something here
+... but if you are being hounded by a lot of relatives whom you
+dislike, ring and walk in. Then, granting all this, how does it come
+about that you, a member of the Interstate Commerce Commission, wear
+no collar?... Ha, ha, we caught you there! But otherwise, write any
+letter beginning with _w_ in this space. Yes, there is the
+space,--what's the matter with you? Go back and look again.... You
+win. Now, in spite of what the neighbors say, give three reasons for
+not giving three reasons why this proves that you are sane, or, as the
+case may be.
+
+
+
+
+HARPER'S MAGAZINE
+
+
+Through the Dobrudja with Gun and Camera
+
+There was a heavy mist falling as we left Ilanlâc, rendering the
+_cozbars_ (native _doblacs_) doubly indistinguishable. This was
+unfortunate, as we had planned on taking many photographs, some of
+which are reproduced here.
+
+Our party consisted of seven members of the Society: Molwinch, young
+Houghbotham, Capt. Ramp, and myself, together with fourteen native
+_barbudos_ (_luksni_ who are under the draft age), a boat's crew, two
+helpers, and some potted tongue. Lieut. Furbearing, the Society's
+press-agent, had sailed earlier in the week, and was to join us at
+Curtea de Argesh.
+
+Before us, as we progressed, lay the Tecuci, shimmering in the
+reflected light of the _sun_ (sun). They were named by their
+discoverer, Joao Galatz, after his uncle, whose name was Wurgle, or,
+as he was known among the natives, "Wurgle." From that time (1808)
+until 1898, no automobile was ever seen on one of the Tecuci, although
+many of the inhabitants subsisted entirely on what we call
+"cottage-cheese."
+
+The weevils of this district (_Curculionidæ_) remarkable for their
+lack of poise. We saw several of them, just at sundown, when,
+according to an old native legend, the weevil comes out to defy the
+God of _Acor_, his ancient enemy, and never, not even in Castanheira,
+have I seen weevils more embarrassed than those upon whom we came
+suddenly at a bend in the Selch River.
+
+Early morning found us filing up the Buzeau Valley, with the
+gun-bearers and bus-boys in single-file behind us, and a picturesque
+lot they were, too, with their lisle socks and queer patch-pockets. In
+taking a picture of them, I walked backward into the Buzeau River,
+which delayed the party, as I had, in my bag, the key with which the
+potted tongue cans were to be opened.
+
+We were fortunate enough to catch several male puffins, which were so
+ingenuous as to eat the carpet-tacks we offered them. The puffin
+(_Thalassidroma buleverii_), is easily distinguishable from the more
+effete robin of America because the two birds are similar in no
+essential points. This makes it convenient for the naturalist, who
+might otherwise get them mixed. Puffins are hunted principally for
+their companionable qualities, a domesticated puffin being held the
+equal--if not quite--of the average Dobrudjan housewife in many
+respects, such as, for instance, self-respect.
+
+It was late in the afternoon of the third day, when we finally reached
+Dimbovitza, and the cool _llemla_ was indeed refreshing. It had been,
+we one and all agreed, a most interesting trip, and we vowed that we
+should not forget our Three Days in the Dobrudja.
+
+
+Dead Leaves
+
+"Ain't you got them dishes done up yet, Irma?"
+
+A petulant voice from what, in Central New England, is called the
+"sittin' room," penetrated the cool silence of the farm-house kitchen.
+Irma Hathaway passed her hand heavily before her eyes.
+
+"Yes, Ma," she replied wearily, as she threw a cup at the steel
+engraving of "The Return of the Mayflower" which hung on the kitchen
+wall. She wondered when she would die.
+
+A cold wind blew along the corridor which connected the kitchen with
+the wood-shed. Then, as if disgruntled, it blew back again, like a man
+returning to his room after a fresh handkerchief. Irma shuddered. It
+was all so inexplicably depressing.
+
+For eighteen years the sun had never been able to shine in Bemis
+Corners. God knows it had tried. But there had always been something
+imponderable, something monstrously bleak, which had thrown itself,
+like a great cloak, between the warm light of that body and the grim
+reality of Bemis Corners.
+
+"If Eben had only known," thought Irma, and buried her face in the
+soapy water.
+
+Some one entered the room from the wood-shed, stamping the snow from
+his boots. She knew, without looking up, that it was Ira.
+
+"Why hev you come?" she said softly, lifting her moist eyes to him. It
+was not Ira. It was the hired man. She sobbed pitifully and leaped
+upon the roller-towel which hung on the door, pulling it round and
+round like a captive squirrel in a revolving cage.
+
+"It ain't no use," she moaned.
+
+And, through the cadavers of the apple-trees in the orchard behind the
+house, there rattled a wind from the sea, the sea to which men go down
+in ships never to return, telling of sorrow and all that sort of
+thing.
+
+"Fate," some people call it.
+
+To Irma Hathaway it was all the same.
+
+
+June, July, August
+
+    _Tulips, crocuses and chard,_
+    _And the wax bean_
+    _In the back yard._
+    _And the open road to the land of dreams,_
+    _With the heavy swirl_
+    _Of the singing streams._
+    _Oh! boy!_
+
+
+Unpublished Letters of Mark Twain
+
+_With a foreword by Albert Bigelow Paine_[1]
+
+FOREWORD
+
+
+This letter from Mark Twain to Mr. Horace J. Borrow of Hartford has
+recently been called to my attention by a niece of Mr. Borrow's who
+now lives in Glastonbury. I have no reason to believe that the lady is
+a charlatan, in fact, I have often heard Mark Twain speak of Mr.
+Borrow in the highest terms.
+
+[Footnote 1: The complete works of Mark Twain, with complete forewords
+by Mr. Paine are, oddly enough, published by Harper and Bros. who,
+oddly enough, also publish this magazine. We celebrate this
+coincidence by offering the complete set to our readers on easy and
+friendly terms.]
+
+
+_Mr. Horace J. Borrow_
+_Hartford, Connecticut_
+
+Dear Mr. Borrow: Enclosed find check for ten dollars ($10) in payment
+of my annual dues for the year 1891-2.
+
+Yours truly,
+    (Signed) S.L. CLEMENS.
+
+
+Highways and By-Ways in Old Fall River
+
+The chance visitor to Fall River may be said, like the old fisherman
+in "Bartholomew Fair," to have "seen half the world, without tasting
+its savor." Wandering down the Main Street, with its clanging
+trolley-cars and noisy drays, one wonders (as, indeed, one may well
+wonder), if all this is a manifestation so much of Fall River as it is
+of that for which Fall River stands.
+
+Frankly, I do not know.
+
+But there is something in the air, something ineffable in the swirl of
+the smoke from the towering stacks, which sings, to the rhythm of the
+clashing shuttles and humming looms, of a day when old gentlemen in
+belted raglans and cloth-topped boots strolled through these streets,
+bearing with them the legend of mutability. Perhaps "mutability" is
+too strong a word. Fall Riverians would think so.
+
+And the old Fall River Line! What memories does that name not awaken
+in the minds of globe-trotters? Or, rather, what memories _does_ it
+awaken? William Lloyd Garrison is said to have remarked upon one
+occasion to Benjamin Butler that one of the most grateful features of
+Fall River was the night-boat for New York. To which Butler is
+reported to have replied: "But, my dear Lloyd, there is no night-boat
+to New York, and there won't be until along about 1875 or even later.
+So your funny crack, in its essential detail, falls flat."
+
+But, regardless of all this, the fact remains that Fall River is Fall
+River, and that it is within easy motoring distance of Newport, which
+offers our art department countless opportunities for charming
+illustrations.
+
+
+The Editor's Drawer
+
+Little Bobby, aged five, saying his prayers, had come to that most
+critical of diplomatic crises: the naming of relatives to be blessed.
+
+"Why don't I ask God to bless Aunt Mabel?" he queried, looking up with
+a roguish twinkle in his blue eyes.
+
+"But you do, Bobby," answered his mother.
+
+"So I do," was his prompt reply.
+
+Little Willy, aged seven, was asked by his teacher to define the word
+"confuse." "'Confuse' is what my daddy says when he looks at his
+watch," said Willy. The teacher never asked that question again. At
+least, not of Willy.
+
+Little Gertrude, aged three, was saying her prayers. "Is God
+everywhere?" she asked.
+
+"Yes, dear, everywhere," answered her mother.
+
+"_Everywhere?_" she persisted.
+
+"Yes, dear, _everywhere,_" repeated her mother, all unsuspecting.
+
+"Then He must be like Uncle Ned," said the little tot.
+
+"Why, Gertrude, what makes you say that?"
+
+"Because I heard Daddy say that Uncle Ned was everywhere," was the
+astounding reply.
+
+
+
+
+THE SATURDAY EVENING POST
+
+
+THE LAST MATCH
+
+By Roy Comfort Ashurst
+
+Slowly the girl in the green hat approached the swinging door of the
+hotel.
+
+She was thinking.
+
+A man more versed in the ways of womankind than Ned Pillsbury might,
+perhaps, have perceived that she was also glancing surreptitiously
+upwards through the dark fringe of lashes which veiled her brown gypsy
+eyes, but Ned was not a trained observer in such matters. To him, as
+he sat in the large, roomy leather chair in the lobby, the only
+reaction was
+
+(_Continued on page 49_)
+
+
+ARE YOU SURE OF YOUR CRANK-SHAFT?
+
+The answer to this question is the answer to the peace of mind with
+which you operate your motor. Whether you are the operator of an
+automobile, or one of those intrepid spirits to whom the world-war has
+given the vision of flying through the air at 175 miles an hour, you
+need to give pause and say to yourself:
+
+"Just how much faith can I put in my crank-shaft?"
+
+And if it is a Zimco crank-shaft, made in the factory of a thousand
+sky-lights, you may be sure that it will stand the test.
+
+Zimco crank-shafts have that indefinable quality which gives them
+personality among crank-shafts. You know a Zimco when you see one and
+you feel that it is an old friend. It does everything but speak. And
+that its host of friends do for it.
+
+Let us send you free our handsome little booklet on
+"After-the-War-Problems."
+
+
+(_Continued from page 8_)
+
+     one of amazement that there could be such a beautiful person
+     alive in this generation.
+
+     Ned was a young man of great possibilities, but few
+     probabilities. Born in the confusion of an up-state city, and
+     educated in the hub-bub of a large college, on whose football
+     team he had distinguished himself in the position of
+     left-halfback, he had never been so fortunate as to receive
+     that quiet instruction in dark brown eyelashes and their
+     potentialities which has been found to be so highly essential
+     to the equipment
+
+(_Continued on page 107_)
+
+
+INTRODUCING THE 7-TON GARGANTUA TRUCK
+
+This important announcement is made by the Gargantua Company with a
+full realization of its significance. We realize that we are creating
+a new thing in trucks.
+
+The Gargantua combines all the qualities of the truck with the
+conveniences of a Fall River boat. Its transmission system has been
+called "The Queen of Transmissions." The efficacy of its bull-pinions
+in the tractor attachment has been the subject of enthusiastic praise
+from bull-pinion experts on all continents.
+
+The Gargantua is the result of a dream. Henry L. McFern (now president
+of the Gargantua Co.), was the dreamer. Mr. McFern wanted something
+that would revolutionize the truck business, and yet still be a truck.
+He gave it the thought of all his waking hours. His friends called him
+a "dreamer," but Henry McFern only smiled. When first he brought out
+the model of the Gargantua it was called "McFern's Folly," but Henry
+McFern only smiled the more. And when the time came for the test, it
+was seen that the "dreamer" of South Bend had given the world a _new_
+Idea.
+
+(_Continued from page 49_)
+
+     of a man of the world to-day. He knew that women were strange
+     creatures, for this popular superstition reaches even to the
+     recesses of the most exclusive of male retreats, but further
+     than that he was uninformed. He had, it is true, like many
+     another young man, felt the influence of certain pairs of
+     blue eyes
+
+(_Continued on page 113_)
+
+
+I AM THE STRENGTH OF AGES
+
+¶I have sprung from the depths of the hills.
+
+¶Before the rivers were brought forth, or even before the green leaves
+in their softness made the landscape, I was your servant.
+
+¶From the bowels of the earth, where men toil in darknesss, I come,
+bringing a message of insuperable strength.
+
+¶From sun to sun I meet and overcome the forces of nature, brothers of
+mine, yet opponents; kindred, yet foes.
+
+¶I am silent, but my voice re-echoes beyond the ends of the earth.
+
+¶I am master, yet I am slave.
+
+¶I am Woonsocket Wrought Iron Pipe, "the Strongest in the Long Run."
+(Trademark.)
+
+Send for illustrated booklet entitled
+
+"_The Romance of Iron Pipe._"
+
+
+(_Continued from page 107_)
+
+     which had come into his life during the years when he was in
+     susceptible moods, but such occurrences were not the result
+     of any realization on his part of their significance. They
+     were in the same category of physical phenomena as includes
+     measles or chicken-pox, for example,--the direct result of a
+     certain
+
+(_Continued on page 125_)
+
+
+WHY WORRY OVER CHISEL TROUBLES?
+
+"You've got the right kind of chisel there. I see it's a Blimco. I've
+always found that Blimco chisels stand up longer under everyday usage,
+and I tell my foremen to see to it that the men always have their
+Blimcoes and no other. I have tried the others, but have always come
+back to the Blimco. I suppose it is because the Blimco is made by
+master-workmen, supervised by experts and sold only by dealers who
+know the best tools. When you see a Blimco in a dealer's window, you
+may know that that dealer is a man of discrimination. The
+discriminating workman always uses a Blimco. 'The Chisel of
+Distinction.' Clip this coupon and send it NOW for our instructive
+booklet 'Chiselling Prosperity'."
+
+
+(_Continued from page 113_)
+
+     temporary debility which renders the patient susceptible to
+     infection.
+
+     Ned Pillsbury was therefore somewhat overcome by the vision
+     of the girl with the green hat, and suffered from that
+     feeling of pioneering emotion which must have affected Mr.
+     Balboa who, according to the poet, stood "silent on a peak in
+     Darien" survey-
+
+(_Continued on page 140_)
+
+
+MAKE YOUR PISTON-RINGS WORK FOR YOU
+
+Why should you persist in being ashamed of your piston-rings?
+
+Why should you make your wife and daughter suffer the humiliation
+which comes from knowing that you are using an inferior make?
+
+"Emancipator" Piston-Rings cost more than ordinary piston-rings, but
+they are worth it. They are worth more even than we ask.
+
+What would it mean to you to know that you were not losing steam power
+because of a faulty piston-ring? Wouldn't it be worth a few extra
+dollars?
+
+Napoleon once said that an army marches on its stomach.
+
+If this has any relation to piston-rings, we fail to see it. But it
+has as much relation to piston-rings as a matter of price does when
+steam economy is at stake.
+
+"Emancipator" Piston-Rings bring twice the power with one-half the
+trouble. That's why we call them "Emancipator."
+
+Ask your grocer about "Emancipators." He will tell you to ask your
+garage-man. In the meantime, let us send you our catalog.
+
+
+(_Continued from page 125_)
+
+     ing the Pacific. He was aware of a strange exaltation
+     coursing through his veins, and before he knew it, he was on
+     his feet and pushing through the revolving door in the
+     compartment behind the green hat.
+
+(_Continued on page 156_)
+
+
+YOU, MR. LEATHER-BELTING-USER!
+
+What is your problem?
+
+Do you wake up in the morning with green spots before your eyes? Are
+you depressed? Does the thought of a day's work with an unsatisfactory
+belting weigh upon your mind, bringing on acidosis, hardening of the
+arteries, and a feeling of opposition to the League of Nations?
+
+If so, let us tackle your problem for you.
+
+We have built up a service department which stands alone in its field.
+For sixteen years we have been making it the perfect institution that
+it is to-day.
+
+Bring your belting troubles to Mr. Henry W. Wurlitz, who is at the
+head of our service department, and he will set you right. He will
+show you the way to a Bigger, Better, Belting outlook.
+
+
+(_Continued from page 140_)
+
+     "I beg your pardon," he said softly, as they emerged on the
+     street, "but did you drop this flask?"
+
+     She turned quickly and faced him. There was a twinkle in her
+     dark brown eyes as she answered him:
+
+(_To be continued_)
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Of All Things, by Robert C. Benchley
+
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Of All Things, by Robert C. Benchley
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Of All Things
+
+Author: Robert C. Benchley
+
+Release Date: October 7, 2011 [EBook #37660]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OF ALL THINGS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Andrea Ball, Christine Bell & Marc D'Hooghe
+at http://www.freeliterature.org
+
+
+
+
+
+
+OF ALL THINGS
+
+BY
+
+ROBERT C. BENCHLEY
+
+
+NEW YORK
+HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY
+1921
+
+
+
+
+     TO
+
+     HENRY BESSEMER
+
+     Without whose tireless patience, unswerving industry and
+     inexhaustible zeal the Bessemer steel converter would never
+     have become a reality, this book is affectionately dedicated
+     by
+
+     THE AUTHOR.
+
+
+
+
+These sketches appeared originally in _Vanity Fair_, _The New York
+Tribune Sunday Magazine_, _Collier's Weekly_, _Life_, and _Motor
+Print_, all but two of these magazines immediately afterward having
+either discontinued publication or changed hands. To those which are
+old enough to remember, and to the new managements of the others, the
+author offers grateful acknowledgment for permission to reprint the
+material in this book. (As a matter of fact, permission was never
+asked, but they probably won't mind anyway.)
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE
+
+
+When, in the Course of human events, it becomes necessary for one
+people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with
+another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and
+equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle
+them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they
+should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.
+
+We hold these truths to be self-evident,--that all men are created
+equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable
+Rights; that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of
+Happiness. That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted
+among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the
+governed,--That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of
+these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it,
+and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such
+principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall
+seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence,
+indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be
+changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience
+hath shewn, that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are
+sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which
+they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations,
+pursuing invariably the same Object, evinces a design to reduce them
+under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to
+throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their own
+future security. Such has been the patient sufferance of these
+Colonies; and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter
+their former Systems of Government. The history of the present King of
+Great Britain is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all
+having in direct object the establishment of an absolute Tyranny over
+these States. To prove this, let Facts be submitted to a candid world.
+
+                                                    R.C.B.
+
+"The Rookery"
+Breeming Downs
+Wippet-cum-Twyne
+New York City
+August 24, 1921
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+      I THE SOCIAL LIFE OF THE NEWT
+     II "COFFEE, MEGG AND ILK, PLEASE"
+    III WHEN GENIUS REMAINED YOUR HUMBLE SERVANT
+     IV THE TORTURES OF WEEK-END VISITING
+      V GARDENING NOTES
+     VI LESSON NUMBER ONE
+    VII THOUGHTS ON FUEL SAVING
+   VIII NOT ACCORDING TO HOYLE
+     IX FROM NINE TO FIVE
+      X TURNING OVER A NEW LEDGER LEAF
+     XI A PIECE OF ROAST BEEF
+    XII THE COMMUNITY MASQUE AS A SUBSTITUTE FOR WAR
+   XIII CALL FOR MR. KENWORTHY!
+    XIV FOOTBALL; COURTESY OF MR. MORSE
+     XV A LITTLE DEBIT IN YOUR TONNEAU
+    XVI A ROMANCE IN ENCYCLOPÆDIA LAND
+   XVII THE PASSING OF THE ORTHODOX PARADOX
+  XVIII SHAKESPEARE EXPLAINED
+    XIX THE SCIENTIFIC SCENARIO
+     XX THE MOST POPULAR BOOK OF THE MONTH
+    XXI CHRISTMAS AFTERNOON
+   XXII HAIL, VERNAL EQUINOX!
+
+
+            TABLOID EDITIONS
+
+        THE AMERICAN MAGAZINE
+        HARPER'S MAGAZINE
+        THE SATURDAY EVENING POST
+
+
+
+OF ALL THINGS!
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+THE SOCIAL LIFE OF THE NEWT
+
+
+It is not generally known that the newt, although one of the smallest
+of our North American animals, has an extremely happy home-life. It is
+just one of those facts which never get bruited about.
+
+[Illustration: "Since that time I have practically lived among the
+newts."]
+
+I first became interested in the social phenomena of newt life early
+in the spring of 1913, shortly after I had finished my researches in
+sexual differentiation among amoeba. Since that time I have
+practically lived among newts, jotting down observations, making
+lantern-slides, watching them in their work and in their play (and you
+may rest assured that the little rogues have their play--as who does
+not?) until, from much lying in a research posture on my stomach, over
+the inclosure in which they were confined, I found myself developing
+what I feared might be rudimentary creepers. And so, late this
+autumn, I stood erect and walked into my house, where I immediately
+set about the compilation of the notes I had made.
+
+So much for the non-technical introduction. The remainder of this
+article bids fair to be fairly scientific.
+
+In studying the more intimate phases of newt life, one is chiefly
+impressed with the methods by means of which the males force their
+attentions upon the females, with matrimony as an object. For the newt
+is, after all, only a newt, and has his weaknesses just as any of the
+rest of us. And I, for one, would not have it different. There is
+little enough fun in the world as it is.
+
+The peculiar thing about a newt's courtship is its restraint. It is
+carried on, at all times, with a minimum distance of fifty paces (newt
+measure) between the male and the female. Some of the bolder males may
+now and then attempt to overstep the bounds of good sportsmanship and
+crowd in to forty-five paces, but such tactics are frowned upon by the
+Rules Committee. To the eye of an uninitiated observer, the pair might
+be dancing a few of the more open figures of the minuet.
+
+The means employed by the males to draw the attention and win the
+affection of those of the opposite sex (females) are varied and
+extremely strategic. Until the valuable researches by Strudlehoff in
+1887 (in his "_Entwickelungsmechanik_") no one had been able to
+ascertain just what it was that the male newt did to make the female
+see anything in him worth throwing herself away on. It had been
+observed that the most personally unattractive newt could advance to
+within fifty paces of a female of his acquaintance and, by some _coup
+d'oeil_, bring her to a point where she would, in no uncertain terms,
+indicate her willingness to go through with the marriage ceremony at
+an early date.
+
+It was Strudlehoff who discovered, after watching several thousand
+courting newts under a magnifying lens (questionable taste on his
+part, without doubt, but all is fair in pathological love) that the
+male, during the courting season (the season opens on the tenth of
+March and extends through the following February, leaving about ten
+days for general overhauling and redecorating) gives forth a strange,
+phosphorescent glow from the center of his highly colored dorsal
+crest, somewhat similar in effect to the flash of a diamond scarfpin
+in a red necktie. This glow, according to Strudlehoff, so fascinates
+the female with its air of elegance and indication of wealth, that she
+immediately falls a victim to its lure.
+
+But the little creature, true to her sex-instinct, does not at once
+give evidence that her morale has been shattered. She affects a
+coyness and lack of interest, by hitching herself sideways along the
+bottom of the aquarium, with her head turned over her right shoulder
+away from the swain. A trained ear might even detect her whistling in
+an indifferent manner.
+
+The male, in the meantime, is flashing his gleamer frantically two
+blocks away and is performing all sorts of attractive feats,
+calculated to bring the lady newt to terms. I have seen a male, in the
+stress of his handicap courtship, stand on his fore-feet,
+gesticulating in amorous fashion with his hind feet in the air. Franz
+Ingehalt, in his "Über Weltschmerz des Newt," recounts having observed
+a distinct and deliberate undulation of the body, beginning with the
+shoulders and ending at the filament of the tail, which might well
+have been the origin of what is known to-day in scientific circles as
+"the shimmy." The object seems to be the same, except that in the case
+of the newt, it is the male who is the active agent.
+
+In order to test the power of observation in the male during these
+manoeuvers, I carefully removed the female, for whose benefit he was
+undulating, and put in her place, in slow succession, another (but
+less charming) female, a paper-weight of bronze shaped like a newt,
+and, finally, a common rubber eraser. From the distance at which the
+courtship was being carried on, the male (who was, it must be
+admitted, a bit near-sighted congenitally) was unable to detect the
+change in personnel, and continued, even in the presence of the rubber
+eraser, to gyrate and undulate in a most conscientious manner, still
+under the impression that he was making a conquest.
+
+At last, worn out by his exertions, and disgusted at the meagerness of
+the reaction on the eraser, he gave a low cry of rage and despair and
+staggered to a nearby pan containing barley-water, from which he
+proceeded to drink himself into a gross stupor.
+
+Thus, little creature, did your romance end, and who shall say that
+its ending was one whit less tragic than that of Camille? Not I, for
+one.... In fact, the two cases are not at all analogous.
+
+And now that we have seen how wonderfully Nature works in the
+fulfilment of her laws, even among her tiniest creatures, let us study
+for a minute a cross-section of the community-life of the newt. It is
+a life full of all kinds of exciting adventure, from weaving nests to
+crawling about in the sun and catching insect larvæ and crustaceans.
+The newt's day is practically never done, largely because the insect
+larvæ multiply three million times as fast as the newt can possibly
+catch and eat them. And it takes the closest kind of community
+team-work in the newt colony to get things anywhere near cleaned up by
+nightfall.
+
+It is early morning, and the workers are just appearing, hurrying to
+the old log which is to be the scene of their labors. What a
+scampering! What a bustle! Ah, little scamperers! Ah, little bustlers!
+How lucky you are, and how wise! You work long hours, without pay, for
+the sheer love of working. An ideal existence, I'll tell the
+scientific world.
+
+Over here on the right of the log are the Master Draggers. Of all the
+newt workers, they are the most futile, which is high praise indeed.
+Come, let us look closer and see what it is that they are doing.
+
+The one in the lead is dragging a bit of gurry out from the water and
+up over the edge into the sunlight. Following him, in single file,
+come the rest of the Master Draggers. They are not dragging anything,
+but are sort of helping the leader by crowding against him and eating
+little pieces out of the filament of his tail.
+
+And now they have reached the top. The leader, by dint of much
+leg-work, has succeeded in dragging his prize to the ridge of the log.
+
+The little workers, reaching the goal with their precious freight, are
+now giving it over to the Master Pushers, who have been waiting for
+them in the sun all this while. The Master Pushers' work is soon
+accomplished, for it consists simply in pushing the piece of gurry
+over the other side of the log until it falls with a splash into the
+water, where it is lost.
+
+This part of their day's task finished, the tiny toilers rest,
+clustered together in a group, waving their heads about from side to
+side, as who should say: "There--that's done!" And so it _is_ done, my
+little Master Draggers and my little Master Pushers, and _well_ done,
+too. Would that my own work were as clean-cut and as satisfying.
+
+And so it goes. Day in and day out, the busy army of newts go on
+making the world a better place in which to live. They have their
+little trials and tragedies, it is true, but they also have their fun,
+as any one can tell by looking at a logful of sleeping newts on a hot
+summer day.
+
+And, after all, what more has life to offer?
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+"COFFEE, MEGG AND ILK, PLEASE"
+
+
+Give me any topic in current sociology, such as "The Working Classes
+_vs._ the Working Classes," or "Various Aspects of the Minimum Wage,"
+and I can talk on it with considerable confidence. I have no
+hesitation in putting the Workingman, as such, in his place among the
+hewers of wood and drawers of water--a necessary adjunct to our modern
+life, if you will, but of little real consequence in the big events of
+the world.
+
+But when I am confronted, in the flesh, by the "close up" of a
+workingman with any vestige of authority, however small, I immediately
+lose my perspective--and also my poise. I become servile, almost
+cringing. I feel that my modest demands on his time may, unless
+tactfully presented, be offensive to him and result in something, I
+haven't been able to analyze just what, perhaps public humiliation.
+
+For instance, whenever I enter an elevator in a public building I am
+usually repeating to myself the number of the floor at which I wish to
+alight. The elevator man gives the impression of being a social
+worker, filling the job just for that day to help out the regular
+elevator man, and I feel that the least I can do is to show him that I
+know what's what. So I don't tell him my floor number as soon as I get
+in. Only elderly ladies do that. I keep whispering it over to myself,
+thinking to tell it to the world when the proper time comes. But then
+the big question arises--what is the proper time? If I want to get out
+at the eighteenth floor, should I tell him at the sixteenth or the
+seventeenth? I decide on the sixteenth and frame my lips to say,
+"Eighteen out, please." (Just why one should have to add the word
+"out" to the number of the floor is not clear. When you say "eighteen"
+the obvious construction of the phrase is that you want to get _out_
+at the eighteenth floor, not that you want to get in there or be let
+down through the flooring of the car at that point. However, you'll
+find the most sophisticated elevator riders, namely, messenger boys,
+always adding the word "out," and it is well to follow what the
+messenger boys do in such matters if you don't want to go wrong.)
+
+So there I am, mouthing the phrase, "Eighteen out, please," as we
+shoot past the tenth--eleventh--twelfth--thirteenth floors. Then I
+begin to get panicky. Supposing that I should forget my lines! Or that
+I should say them too soon! Or too late! We are now at the fifteenth
+floor. I clear my throat. Sixteen! Hoarsely I murmur, "Eighteen out."
+But at the same instant a man with a cigar in his mouth bawls,
+"Seventeen out!" and I am not heard.
+
+[Illustration: "At the same instant a man with a cigar in his mouth
+bawls, 'Seventeen out!'"]
+
+The car stops at seventeen, and I step confidentially up to the
+elevator man and repeat, with an attempt at nonchalance, "Eighteen
+out, please." But just as I say the words the door clangs, drowning
+out my request, and we shoot up again. I make another attempt, but
+have become inarticulate and succeed only in making a noise like a man
+strangling. And by this time we are at the twenty-first floor with no
+relief in sight. Shattered, I retire to the back of the car and ride
+up to the roof and down again, trying to look as if I worked in the
+building and had to do it, however boresome it might be. On the return
+trip I don't care what the elevator man thinks of me, and tell him at
+every floor that I, personally, am going to get off at the eighteenth,
+no matter what any one else in the car does. I am dictatorial enough
+when I am riled. It is only in the opening rounds that I hug the
+ropes.
+
+My timidity when dealing with minor officials strikes me first in my
+voice. I have any number of witnesses who will sign statements to the
+effect that my voice changed about twelve years ago, and that in
+ordinary conversation my tone, if not especially virile, is at least
+consistent and even. But when, for instance, I give an order at a soda
+fountain, if the clerk overawes me at all, my voice breaks into a
+yodel that makes the phrase "Coffee, egg and milk" a pretty snatch of
+song, but practically worthless as an order.
+
+If the soda counter is lined with customers and the clerks so busy
+tearing up checks and dropping them into the toy banks that they seem
+to resent any call on their drink-mixing abilities, I might just as
+well save time and go home and shake up an egg and milk for myself,
+for I shall not be waited on until every one else has left the counter
+and they are putting the nets over the caramels for the night. I know
+that. I've gone through it too many times to be deceived.
+
+For there is something about the realization that I must shout out my
+order ahead of some one else that absolutely inhibits my shouting
+powers. I will stand against the counter, fingering my ten-cent check
+and waiting for the clerk to come near enough for me to tell him what
+I want, while, in the meantime, ten or a dozen people have edged up
+next to me and given their orders, received their drinks and gone
+away. Every once in a while I catch a clerk's eye and lean forward
+murmuring, "Coffee"--but that is as far as I get. Some one else has
+shoved his way in and shouted, "Coca-Cola," and I draw back to get out
+of the way of the vichy spray. (Incidentally, the men who push their
+way in and footfault on their orders always ask for "Coca-Cola."
+Somehow it seems like painting the lily for them to order a nerve
+tonic.)
+
+I then decide that the thing for me to do is to speak up loud and act
+brazenly. So I clear my throat, and, placing both hands on the
+counter, emit what promises to be a perfect bellow: "COFFEE, MEGG
+AND ILK." This makes just about the impression you'd think it would,
+both on my neighbors and the clerk, especially as it is delivered in a
+tone which ranges from a rich barytone to a rather rasping tenor. At
+this I withdraw and go to the other end of the counter, where I can
+begin life over again with a clean slate.
+
+[Illustration: "Placing both hands on the counter, I emit what
+promises to be a perfect bellow."]
+
+Here, perhaps, I am suddenly confronted by an impatient clerk who is
+in a perfect frenzy to grab my check and tear it into bits to drop in
+his box. "What's yours?" he flings at me. I immediately lose my memory
+and forget what it was that I wanted. But here is a man who has a lot
+of people to wait on and who doubtless gets paid according to the
+volume of business he brings in. I have no right to interfere with his
+work. There is a big man edging his way beside me who is undoubtedly
+going to shout "Coca-Cola" in half a second. So I beat him to it and
+say, "Coca-Cola," which is probably the last drink in the store that I
+want to buy. But it is the only thing that I can remember at the
+moment, in spite of the fact that I have been thinking all morning how
+good a coffee, egg and milk would taste. I suppose that one of the
+psychological principles of advertising is to so hammer the name of
+your product into the mind of the timid buyer that when he is
+confronted by a brusk demand for an order be can't think of anything
+else to say, whether he wants it or not.
+
+This dread of offending the minor official or appearing to a
+disadvantage before a clerk extends even to my taking nourishment. I
+don't think that I have ever yet gone into a restaurant and ordered
+exactly what I wanted. If only the waiter would give me the card and
+let me alone for, say, fifteen minutes, as he does when I want to get
+him to bring me my check, I could work out a meal along the lines of
+what I like. But when he stands over me, with disgust clearly
+registered on his face, I order the thing I like least and consider
+myself lucky to get out of it with so little disgrace.
+
+And yet I have no doubt that if one could see him in his family life
+the Workingman is just an ordinary person like the rest of us. He is
+probably not at all as we think of him in our dealings with him--a
+harsh, dictatorial, intolerant autocrat, but rather a kindly soul who
+likes nothing better than to sit by the fire with his children and
+read.
+
+And he would probably be the first person to scoff at the idea that he
+could frighten me.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+WHEN GENIUS REMAINED YOUR HUMBLE SERVANT
+
+
+Of course, I really know nothing about it, but I would be willing to
+wager that the last words of Penelope, as Odysseus bounced down the
+front steps, bag in hand, were: "Now, don't forget to write, Odie.
+You'll find some papyrus rolled up in your clean peplum, and just drop
+me a line on it whenever you get a chance."
+
+And ever since that time people have been promising to write, and then
+explaining why they haven't written. Most personal correspondence of
+to-day consists of letters the first half of which are given over to
+an indexed statement of reasons why the writer hasn't written before,
+followed by one paragraph of small talk, with the remainder devoted to
+reasons why it is imperative that the letter be brought to a close. So
+many people begin their letters by saying that they have been rushed
+to death during the last month, and therefore haven't found time to
+write, that one wonders where all the grown persons come from who
+attend movies at eleven in the morning. There has been a
+misunderstanding of the word "busy" somewhere.
+
+So explanatory has the method of letter writing become that it is
+probable that if Odysseus were a modern traveler his letters home to
+Penelope would average something like this:
+
+
+    _Calypso,_
+_Friday afternoon._
+
+DEAR PEN:--I have been so tied up with work during the last week that
+I haven't had a chance to get near a desk to write to you. I have been
+trying to every day, but something would come up just at the last
+minute that would prevent me. Last Monday I got the papyrus all
+unrolled, and then I had to tend to Scylla and Charybdis (I may have
+written you about them before), and by the time I got through with
+them it was bedtime, and, believe me, I am snatching every bit of
+sleep I can get these days. And so it went, first the Læstrygones, and
+then something else, and here it is Friday. Well, there isn't much
+news to write about. Things are going along here about as usual. There
+is a young nymph here who seems to own the place, but I haven't had
+any chance to meet her socially. Well, there goes the ship's bell. I
+guess I had better be bringing this to a close. I have got a lot of
+work to do before I get dressed to go to a dinner of that nymph I was
+telling you about. I have met her brother, and he and I are interested
+in the same line of goods. He was at Troy with me. Well, I guess I
+must be closing. Will try to get off a longer letter in a day or two.
+
+Your loving husband,
+    ODIE.
+
+P.S.--You haven't got that bunch of sports hanging round the palace
+still, have you? Tell Telemachus I'll take him out of school if I hear
+of his playing around with any of them.
+
+
+But there was a time when letter writing was such a fad, especially
+among the young girls, that if they had had to choose between eating
+three meals a day and writing a letter they wouldn't have given the
+meals even a consideration. In fact, they couldn't do both, for the
+length of maidenly letters in those days precluded any time out for
+meals. They may have knocked off for a few minutes during the heat of
+the day for a whiff at a bottle of salts, but to nibble at anything
+heartier than lettuce would have cramped their style.
+
+Take Miss Clarissa Harlowe, for instance. In Richardson's book (which,
+in spite of my personal aversion to it, has been hailed by every great
+writer, from Pope to Stevenson, as being perfectly bully) she is
+given the opportunity of telling 2,400 closely printed pages full of
+story by means of letters to her female friend, Miss Howe (who plays a
+part similar to the orchestra leader in Frank Tinney's act). And 2,400
+pages is nothing to her. When the book closes she is just beginning to
+get her stride. As soon as she got through with that she probably sat
+down and wrote a series of letters to the London papers about the need
+for conscription to fight the Indians in America.
+
+To a girl like Clarissa, in the middle of the eighteenth century, no
+day was too full of horrors, no hour was too crowded with terrific
+happenings to prevent her from seating herself at a desk (she must
+have carried the desk about with her, strapped over her shoulder) and
+tearing off twenty or thirty pages to Friend Anna, telling her all
+about it. The only way that I can see in which she could accomplish
+this so efficiently would be to have a copy boy standing at her elbow,
+who took the letter, sheet by sheet, as she wrote it, and dashed with
+it to the printer.
+
+It is hard to tell just which a girl of that period considered more
+important, the experiences she was writing of or the letter itself.
+She certainly never slighted the letter. If the experience wanted to
+overtake her, and jump up on the desk beside her, all right, but,
+experience or no experience, she was going to get that letter in the
+next post or die in the attempt. Unfortunately, she never died in the
+attempt.
+
+Thus, an attack on a young lady's house by a band of cutthroats,
+resulting in the burning of the structure and her abduction, might
+have been told of in the eighteenth century letter system as follows:
+
+
+_Monday night._
+
+SWEET ANNA:--At this writing I find myself in the most horrible
+circumstance imaginable. Picture to yourself, if you can, my dear
+Anna, a party of villainous brigands, veritable cutthroats, all of
+them, led by a surly fellow in green alpaca with white insertion,
+breaking their way, by very force, through the side of your domicile,
+like so many ugly intruders, and threatening you with vile
+imprecations to make you disclose the hiding place of the family
+jewels. If the mere thought of such a contingency is painful to you,
+my beloved Anna, consider what it means to me, your delicate friend,
+to whom it is actually happening at this very minute! For such is in
+very truth the situation which is disclosing itself in my room as I
+write. Not three feet away from me is the odious person before
+described. Now he is threatening me with renewed vigor! Now he has
+placed his coarse hands on my throat, completely hiding the pearl
+necklace which papa brought me from Epsom last summer, and which you,
+and also young Pindleson (whose very name I mention with a blush),
+have so often admired. But more of this later, and until then, believe
+me, my dear Anna, to be
+
+Your ever distressed and affectionate
+    CL. HARLOWE.
+
+
+
+_Monday night. Later._
+
+DEAREST ANNA:--Now, indeed, it is evident, my best, my only friend,
+that I am face to face with the bitterest of fates. You will remember
+that in my last letter I spoke to you of a party of unprincipled
+knaves who were invading my apartment. And now do I find that they
+have, in furtherance of their inexcusable plans, set fire to that
+portion of the house which lies directly behind this, so that as I put
+my pen to paper the flames are creeping, like hungry creatures of some
+sort, through the partitions and into this very room, so that did I
+esteem my safety more than my correspondence with you, my precious
+companion, I should at once be making preparation for immediate
+departure. O my dear! To be thus seized, as I am at this very
+instant, by the unscrupulous leader of the band and carried, by
+brute force, down the stairway through the butler's pantry and into
+the servants' hall, writing as I go, resting my poor paper on the
+shoulder of my detested abductor, is truly, you will agree, my sweet
+Anna, a pitiable episode.
+
+[Illustration: "To be thus seized ... is truly, you will agree, my
+sweet Anna, a pitiable episode."]
+
+Adieu, my intimate friend.
+
+Your obt. s'v't,
+    CL. HARLOWE.
+
+
+One wonders (or, at least, _I_ wonder, and that is sufficient for the
+purposes of this article) what the letter writing young lady of that
+period would have done had she lived in this day of postcards showing
+the rocks at Scipawisset or the Free Public Library in East Tarvia.
+She might have used them for some of her shorter messages, but I
+rather doubt it. The foregoing scene could hardly have been done
+justice to on a card bearing the picture of the Main Street of the
+town, looking north from the Soldiers' Monument, with the following
+legend:
+
+     "Our house is the third on the left with the lilac bush.
+     Cross marks window where gang of rough-necks have just broken
+     in and are robbing and burning the house. Looks like a bad
+     night. Wish you were here. C.H."
+
+No; that would never have done, but it would have been a big relief
+for the postilion, or whoever it was that had to carry Miss Clarissa's
+effusions to their destination. The mail on Monday morning, after a
+springlike Sunday, must have been something in the nature of a wagon
+load of rolls of news print that used to be seen standing in front of
+newspaper offices in the good old days when newspapers were printed on
+paper stock. Of course, the postilion had the opportunity of whiling
+away the time between stations by reading some of the spicier bits in
+the assortment, but even a postilion must have had his feelings, and a
+man can't read that kind of stuff _all_ of the time, and still keep
+his health.
+
+Of course, there are a great many people now who write letters because
+they like to. Also, there are some who do it because they feel that
+they owe it to posterity and to their publishers to do so. As soon as
+a man begins to sniff a chance that he may become moderately famous he
+is apt to brush up on his letter writing and never send anything out
+that has not been polished and proof-read, with the idea in mind that
+some day some one is going to get all of his letters together and make
+a book of them. Apparently, most great men whose letters have been
+published have had premonition of their greatness when quite young,
+as their childish letters bear the marks of careful and studied
+attention to publicity values. One can almost imagine the budding
+genius, aged eight, sitting at his desk and saying to himself:
+
+[Illustration: "I must not forget that I am now going through the
+'_Sturm und Drang_' period."]
+
+"In this spontaneous letter to my father I must not forget that I am
+now going through the _Sturm und Drang_ (storm and stress) period of
+my youth and that this letter will have to be grouped by the compiler
+under the _Sturm und Drang_ (storm and stress) section in my collected
+letters. I must therefore keep in the key and quote only such of my
+favorite authors as will contribute to the effect. I think I will use
+Werther to-day.... My dear Father"--etc.
+
+I have not known many geniuses in their youth, but I have had several
+youths pointed out to me by their parents as geniuses, and I must
+confess that I have never seen a letter from any one of them that
+differed greatly from the letters of a normal boy, unless perhaps they
+were spelled less accurately. Given certain uninteresting conditions,
+let us say, at boarding school, and I believe that the average bright
+boy's letter home would read something in this fashion:
+
+
+_Exeter, N.H.,_
+  _Wed., April 25._
+
+MY DEAR FATHER AND MOTHER:
+
+I have been working pretty hard this week, studying for a history
+examination, and so haven't had much of a chance to write to you.
+Everything is about the same as usual here, and there doesn't seem to
+be much news to write to you about. The box came all right, and thank
+you very much. All the fellows liked it, especially the little apple
+pies. Thank you very much for sending it. There hasn't much been
+happening here since I wrote you last week. I had to buy a new pair of
+running drawers, which cost me fifty cents. Does that come out of my
+allowance? Or will you pay for it? There doesn't seem to be any other
+news. Well, there goes the bell, so I guess I will be closing.
+
+Your loving son,
+    BUXTON.
+
+
+Given the same, even less interesting conditions, and a boy such as
+Stevenson must have been (judging from his letters) could probably
+have delivered himself of this, and more, too:
+
+
+_Wyckham-Wyckham,_
+    _The Tenth._
+
+DEAR PATER:--To-day has been unbelievably exquisite! Great, undulating
+clouds, rolling in serried formation across a sky of pure _lapis
+lazuli_. I feel like what Updike calls a "myrmidon of unhesitating
+amplitude." And a perfect gem of a letter from Toto completed the
+felicitous experience. You would hardly believe, and yet you must, in
+your _coeur des coeurs_, know, that the brown, esoteric hills of this
+Oriental retreat affect me like the red wine of Russilon, and,
+indigent as I am in these matters, I cannot but feel that you have, as
+Herbert says:
+
+    _"Carve or discourse; do not a famine fear._
+     _Who carves is kind to two, who talks to all."_
+
+Yesterday I saw a little native boy, a veritable boy of the streets,
+playing at a game at once so naïve and so resplendent that I was
+irresistibly drawn to its contemplation. You will doubtless jeer when
+I tell you. He was tossing a small _blatch_, such as grow in great
+profusion here, to and fro between himself and the wall of the
+_limple_. I was stunned for the moment, and then I realized that I was
+looking into the very soul of the peasantry, the open stigma of the
+nation. How queer it all seemed! Did it not?
+
+You doubtless think me an ungrateful fellow for not mentioning the
+delicious assortment of goodies which came, like melons to Artemis, to
+this benighted _gesellschaft_ on Thursday last. They were devoured to
+the last crumb, and I was reminded as we ate, like so many _wurras_,
+of those lines of that gorgeous Herbert, of whom I am so fond:
+
+    _"Must all be veiled, while he that reads divines,_
+     _Catching the sense at two removes?"_
+
+The breeze is springing up, and it brings to me messages of the open
+meadows of Litzel, deep festooned with the riot of gloriannas. How
+quiet they seem to me as I think of them now! How emblematic! Do you
+know, my dear Parent, that I sometimes wonder if, after all, it were
+not better to dream, and dream ... and dream.
+
+Your affectionate son,
+    BERGQUIST.
+
+
+So don't worry about your boy if he writes home like that. He may
+simply have an eye for fame and future compilation.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+THE TORTURES OF WEEK-END VISITING
+
+
+The present labor situation shows to what a pretty pass things may
+come because of a lack of understanding between the parties involved.
+I bring in the present labor situation just to give a touch of
+timeliness to this thing. Had I been writing for the Christmas number,
+I should have begun as follows: "The indiscriminate giving of
+Christmas presents shows to what a pretty pass things may come because
+of a lack of understanding between the parties involved."
+
+The idea to be driven home is that things may come to a pretty pass by
+the parties involved in an affair of any kind if they do not come to
+an understanding before commencing operations.
+
+I hope I have made my point clear. Especially is this true, (watch out
+carefully now, as the whole nub of the article will be coming along in
+just a minute), especially is this true in the relations between host
+and guest on week-end visits. (There, you have it! In fact, the title
+to this whole thing might very well be, "The Need for a Clearer
+Definition of Relations between Host and Guest on Week-end Visits,"
+and not be at all overstating it, at that.)
+
+The logic of this will be apparent to any one who has ever been a host
+or a guest at a week-end party, a classification embracing practically
+all Caucasians over eleven years of age who can put powder on the nose
+or tie a bow-tie. Who has not wished that his host would come out
+frankly at the beginning of the visit and state, in no uncertain
+terms, the rules and preferences of the household in such matters as
+the breakfast hour? And who has not sounded his guest to find out what
+he likes in the regulation of his diet and _modus vivendi_ (mode of
+living)? Collective bargaining on the part of labor unions and capital
+makes it possible for employers to know just what the workers think on
+matters of common interest. Is collective bargaining between host and
+guest so impossible, then?
+
+Take, for example, the matter of arising in the morning. Of course,
+where there is a large house-party the problem is a simple one, for
+you can always hear the others pattering about and brushing their
+teeth. You can regulate your own arising by the number of people who
+seem to be astir. But if you are the only guest there is apt to be a
+frightful misunderstanding.
+
+"At what time is breakfast?" you ask.
+
+"Oh, any old time on Sundays," replies the hostess with a generous
+gesture. "Sleep as late as you like. This is 'Liberty Hall.'"
+
+The sentiment in this attitude is perfectly bully, but there is
+nothing that you can really take hold of in it. It satisfies at the
+time, but in the morning there is a vagueness about it that is simply
+terrifying.
+
+Let us say that you awake at eight. You listen and hear no one
+stirring. Then, over on the cool pillow again until eight-twenty.
+Again up on the elbow, with head cocked on one side. There is a creak
+in the direction of the stairs. They may all be up and going down to
+breakfast! It is but the work of a moment, to bound out of bed and
+listen at the door. Perhaps open it modestly and peer out. Deathlike
+silence, broken only, as the phrase goes, by the ticking of the hall
+clock, and not a soul in sight. Probably they are late sleepers. Maybe
+eleven o'clock is their Sunday rising hour. Some people _are_ like
+that.
+
+Shut the door and sit on the edge of the bed. More sleep is out of the
+question. Let's take a look at the pictures in the guest-room, just to
+pass the time. Here's one of Lorna Doone. How d'e do, Lorna? Here's a
+group--taken in 1902--showing your host in evening clothes, holding a
+mandolin. Probably a member of his college musical-club. Rather
+unkempt looking bunch, you _must_ say. Well, how about this one? An
+etching, showing suspicious-looking barges on what is probably the
+Thames. Fair enough, at that.
+
+Back to the door and listen again. Tick-tock-tick-tock. Probably, if
+you started your tub, you'd wake the whole house. Let's sit down on
+the edge of the bed again.
+
+Hello, here are some books on the table. "Fifty Famous Sonnets,"
+illustrated by Maxfield Parrish. Never touch a sonnet before
+breakfast. "My experiences in the Alps," by a woman mountain-climber
+who has written on the fly-leaf, "To my good friends the Elbridges, in
+memory of many happy days together at Chamounix. October, 1907." That
+settles _that_. "Essay on Compensation" in limp leather, by R.W.
+Emerson, published by Houghton, Mifflin & Co. Oh, very well! You
+suppose they thought that would be over your head, did they? Well,
+we'll just show them! We'll read it just for spite. Opening, to the
+red ribbon:
+
+"Of the like nature is that expectation of change which instantly
+follows the suspension of our voluntary activity. The terror of
+cloudless noon--"
+
+By the way, it must be nearly noon now! Ten minutes past nine, only!
+Well, the only thing to do is get dressed and go out and walk about
+the grounds. Eliminate the tub as too noisy. And so, very cautiously,
+almost clandestinely, you proceed to dress.
+
+And now, just to reverse the process. Suppose you are the host. You
+have arisen at eight and listened at the guest's door. No sound.
+Tip-toe back and get dressed, talking in whispers to your wife (the
+hostess) and cramming flannel bears into the infant's mouth to keep
+him from disturbing the sleeper.
+
+"Bill looked tired last night. Better let him sleep a little longer,"
+you suggest. And so, downstairs on your hands and knees, and look over
+the Sunday papers. Then a bracing walk on the porch, resulting in a
+terrific appetite.
+
+A glance at the watch shows nine o'clock. Sunday breakfast is usually
+at eight-thirty. The warm aroma of coffee creeps in from the kitchen
+and, somewhere, _some one_ is baking muffins. This is awful! You
+suppose it feels something like this to be caught on an ice-floe
+without any food and so starve to death. Only there you can't smell
+coffee and muffins. You sneak into the dining-room and steal one of
+the property oranges from the side-board, but little Edgar sees you
+and sets up such a howl that you have to give it to him. The hostess
+suggests that your friend may have the sleeping-sickness. Weakened by
+hunger, you hotly resent this, and one word leads to another.
+
+"Oh, very well, I'll go up and rout him out," you snarl.
+
+[Illustration: "'Hello. Bill,' you say flatly."]
+
+Upstairs again, and poise, in listening attitude, just in front of the
+guest's door. Slowly the door opens, inch by inch, and, finally his
+head is edged cautiously out toward yours.
+
+"Hello, Bill," you say flatly, "what are you getting up this time of
+the morning for? Thought I told you to sleep late."
+
+"Morning, Ed," he says, equally flatly, "hope I haven't kept you all
+waiting." Then you both lie and eat breakfast.
+
+Such a misunderstanding is apt to go to almost any length. I once knew
+of a man on a week-end visit who spent an entire Sunday in his room,
+listening at his door to see if the family were astir, while, in the
+meantime, the family were, one by one, tip-toeing to his door to see
+if they could detect any signs of life from him.
+
+Each thought the other needed rest.
+
+Along about three in the afternoon the family threw all hospitality
+aside and ate breakfast, deadening the sound of the cutlery as much as
+possible, little dreaming that their guest was looking through the "A
+Prayer for Each Day" calendar for the ninth time and seriously
+considering letting himself down from the window on a sheet and making
+for the next train. Shortly after dark persistent rumors got abroad
+that he had done away with himself, and every one went up and sniffed
+for gas. It was only when the maid, who was not in on the secret,
+bolted into the room to turn down his bed for the night, that she
+found him tip-toeing about, packing and unpacking his bag and
+listening eagerly at the wall. (Now don't ask how it happened that the
+maid didn't know that his bed hadn't been made that morning. What
+difference does it make, anyway? It is such questions as _that_, that
+blight any attempt at individual writing in this country.)
+
+Don't think, just because I have taken all this space to deal with the
+rising-hour problem that there are no other points to be made. Oh, not
+at all. There is, for instance, the question of exercise. After dinner
+the host says to himself: "Something must be done. I wonder if he
+likes to walk." Aloud, he says: "Well, Bill, how about a little hike
+in the country?"
+
+A hike in the country being the last thing in the world that Bill
+wants, he says, "Right-o! Anything you say." And so, although walking
+is a tremendous trial to the host, who has weak ankles, he bundles up
+with a great show of heartiness and grabs his stick as if this were
+the one thing he lived for.
+
+After about a mile of hobbling along the country-road the host says,
+hopefully: "Don't let me tire you out, old man. Any time you want to
+turn back, just say the word."
+
+The guest, thinking longingly of the fireside, scoffs at the idea of
+turning back, insisting that if there is one thing in all the world
+that he likes better than walking it is running. So on they jog,
+hippity-hop, hippity-hop, each wishing that it would rain so that they
+could turn about and go home.
+
+Here again the thing may go to almost tragic lengths. Suppose neither
+has the courage to suggest the return move. They might walk on into
+Canada, or they might become exhausted and have to be taken into a
+roadhouse and eat a "$2 old-fashioned Southern dinner of fried chicken
+and waffles." The imagination revolts at a further contemplation of
+the possibilities of this lack of coöperation between guest and host.
+
+[Illustration: "So on they jog.... Each wishing that it would rain."]
+
+I once visited a man who had an outdoor swimming-pool on his estate.
+(Consider that as very casually said.) It was in April, long before
+Spring had really understood what was expected of her. My first night
+there my host said:
+
+"Are you a morning plunger?"
+
+Thinking that he referred to a tub plunge in a warm bathroom, I glowed
+and said: "You bet."
+
+"I'll call for you at seven in the morning, then," he said, "and we'll
+go out to the pool."
+
+It was evidently his morning custom and I wasn't going to have it said
+of me that a middle-aged man could outdo me in virility. So, at seven
+in the morning, in a dense fog (with now and then a slash of cold
+rain), we picked our way out to the pool and staged a vivid Siberian
+moving picture scene, showing naked peasants bathing in the Nevsky. My
+visit lasted five days, and I afterward learned, from one to whom my
+host had confided, that it was the worst five days he had ever gone
+through, and that he has chronic joint-trouble as a result of those
+plunges. "But I couldn't be outdone by a mere stripling," he said,
+"and the boy certainly enjoyed it."
+
+All of this might have been avoided by the posting of a sign in a
+conspicuous place in my bedroom, reading as follows: "Personally, I
+dislike swimming in the pool at this time of the year. Guests wishing
+to do so may obtain towels at the desk." How very simple and
+practical!
+
+The sign system is the only solution I can offer. It is crude and
+brutal, but it admits of no misunderstanding. A sign in each
+guest-room, giving the hours of meals, political and religious
+preferences of the family, general views on exercise, etc., etc., with
+a blank for the guest to fill out, stating his own views on these
+subjects, would make it possible to visit (or entertain) with a sense
+of security thus far unknown upon our planet.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+GARDENING NOTES
+
+
+During the past month almost every paper, with the exception of the
+agricultural journals, has installed an agricultural department,
+containing short articles by Lord Northcliffe, or some one else in the
+office who had an unoccupied typewriter, telling the American citizen
+how to start and hold the interest of a small garden. The seed
+catalogue has become the catechism of the patriot, and, if you don't
+like to read the brusk, prosy directions on planting as given there,
+you may find the same thing done in verse in your favorite poetry
+magazine, or a special department in _The Plumbing Age_ under the
+heading "The Plumber's Garden: How and When to Plant."
+
+But all of these editorial suggestions appear to be conducted by
+professionals for the benefit of the layman, which seems to me to be a
+rather one-sided way of going about the thing. Obviously the
+suggestions should come from a layman himself, in the nature of
+warnings to others.
+
+I am qualified to put forth such an article because of two weeks'
+service in my own back yard, doing my bit for Peter Henderson and
+planting all sorts of things in the ground without the slightest
+expectation of ever seeing anything of any of them again. If, by any
+chance, a sprout should show itself, unmistakably the result of one of
+my plantings, I would be willing to be quoted as saying that Nature
+_is_ wonderful. In fact, I would take it as a personal favor, and
+would feel that anything that I might do in the future for Nature
+would be little enough in return for the special work she went to all
+the trouble of doing for me. But all of this is on condition that
+something of mine grows into manhood. Otherwise, Nature can go her way
+and I go mine, just as we have gone up till now.
+
+However, although I am an amateur, I shall have to adopt, in my
+writing, the tone of a professional, or I shall never get any one to
+believe what I say. If, therefore, from now on I sound a bit cold and
+unfriendly, you will realize that a professional agricultural writer
+has to have _some_ dignity about his stuff, and that beneath my rough
+exterior I am a pleasant enough sort of person to meet socially.
+
+
+_Preparing the Ground for the Garden_
+
+This is one of the most important things that the young gardener is
+called upon to do. In fact, a great many young gardeners never do
+anything further. Some inherited weakness, something they never
+realized they had before, may crop out during this process: weak back,
+tendency of shoulder-blades to ossification, misplacement of several
+important vertebræ, all are apt to be discovered for the first time
+during the course of one day's digging. If, on the morning following
+the first attempt to prepare the ground for planting, you are able to
+walk in a semi-erect position as far as the bathtub (and, without
+outside assistance, lift one foot into the water), you may flatter
+yourself that you are, joint for joint, in as perfect condition as
+the man in the rubber-heels advertisements.
+
+[Illustration: "If you are able to walk as far as the bathtub..."]
+
+Authorities differ as to the best way of digging. All agree that
+it is impossible to avoid walking about during the following week as
+if you were impersonating an old colored waiter with the lumbago; but
+there are two schools, each with its own theory, as to the less
+painful method. One advocates bending over, without once raising up,
+until the whole row is dug. The others, of whom I must confess that I
+am one, feel that it is better to draw the body to a more or less
+erect position after each shovelful. In support of this contention,
+Greitz, the well-known authority on the muscles of the back, says on
+page 233 of his "Untersuchungen über Sittlichkeitsdelikte und
+Gesellschaftsbiologie":
+
+"The constant tightening and relaxing of the _latissimus dorsi_
+effected in raising the body as the earth is tossed aside, has a
+tendency to relieve the strain by distributing it equally among the
+_serratus posticus inferior_ and the corner of Thirty-fourth Street."
+He then goes on to say practically what I have said above.
+
+The necessity for work of such a strenuous nature in the mere
+preliminaries of the process of planting a garden is due to the fact
+that the average back-yard has, up till the present time, been
+behaving less like a garden than anything else in the world. You might
+think that a back-yard, possessed of an ordinary amount of decency and
+civic-pride would, at some time during its career, have said to
+itself:
+
+"Now look here! I may some day be called upon to be a garden, and the
+least I can do is to get myself into some sort of shape, so that, when
+the time comes, I will be fairly ready to receive a seed or two."
+
+But no! Year in and year out they have been drifting along in a fools'
+paradise, accumulating stones and queer, indistinguishable cans and
+things, until they were prepared to become anything, quarries,
+iron-mines, notion-counters,--anything but gardens.
+
+I have saved in a box all the things that I have dug from my
+back-yard, and, when I have them assembled, all I will need will
+be a good engine to make them into a pretty fairly decent
+runabout,--nothing elaborate, mind you, but good enough to run the
+family out in on Sunday afternoons.
+
+And then there are lots of other things that wouldn't even fit into
+the runabout. Queer-looking objects, they are; things that perhaps in
+their hey-dey were rather stunning, but which have now assumed an air
+of indifference, as if to say, "Oh, call me anything, old fellow,
+Ice-pick, Mainspring, Cigar-lighter, anything, I don't care." I tell
+you, it's enough to make a man stop and think. But there, I mustn't
+get sentimental.
+
+In preparing the soil for planting, you will need several tools.
+Dynamite would be a beautiful thing to use, but it would have a
+tendency to get the dirt into the front-hall and track up the stairs.
+This not being practicable, there is no other way but for you to get
+at it with a fork (oh, don' be silly), a spade, and a rake. If you
+have an empty and detached furnace boiler, you might bring that along
+to fill with the stones you will dig up. If it is a small garden, you
+ought not to have to empty the boiler more than three or four times.
+Any neighbor who is building a stone house will be glad to contract
+with you for the stones, and those that are left over after he has got
+his house built can be sold to another neighbor who is building
+another stone house. Your market is limited only by the number of
+neighbors who are building stone houses.
+
+On the first day, when you find yourself confronted by a stretch of
+untouched ground which is to be turned over (technical phrase, meaning
+to "turn over"), you may be somewhat at a loss to know where to begin.
+Such indecision is only natural, and should cause no worry on the
+part of the young gardener. It is something we all have to go through
+with. You may feel that it would be futile and unsystematic to go
+about digging up a forkful here and a shovelful there, tossing the
+earth at random, in the hope that in due time you will get the place
+dug up. And so it would.
+
+The thing to do is to decide just where you want your garden, and what
+its dimensions are to be. This will have necessitated a previous
+drawing up of a chart, showing just what is to be planted and where.
+As this chart will be the cause of considerable hard feeling in the
+family circle, usually precipitating a fist-fight over the number of
+rows of onions to be set out, I will not touch on that in this
+article. There are some things too intimate for even a professional
+agriculturist to write of. I will say, however, that those in the
+family who are standing out for onions might much better save their
+time and feelings by pretending to give in, and then, later in the
+day, sneaking out and slipping the sprouts in by themselves in some
+spot where they will know where to find them again.
+
+Having decided on the general plan and dimensions of the plot, gather
+the family about as if for a corner-stone dedication, and then make a
+rather impressive ceremony of driving in the first stake by getting
+your little boy to sing the first twelve words of some patriotic air.
+(If he doesn't know the first twelve, any twelve will do. The idea is
+to keep the music going during the driving of the stake.)
+
+[Illustration: "Make a rather impressive ceremony of driving the first
+stake."]
+
+The stake is to be driven at an imaginary corner of what is to be your
+garden, and a string stretched to another stake at another imaginary
+corner, and there you have a line along which to dig. This will be a
+big comfort. You will feel that at last you have something tangible.
+Now all that remains is to turn the ground over, harrow it, smooth it
+up nice and neat, plant your seeds, cultivate them, thin out your
+plants and pick the crops.
+
+It may seem that I have spent most of my time in advice on preparing
+the ground for planting. Such may well be the case, as that was as far
+as I got. I then found a man who likes to do those things and whose
+doctor has told him that he ought to be out of doors all the time. He
+is an Italian, and charges really very little when you consider what
+he accomplishes. Any further advice on starting and keeping up a
+garden, I shall have to get him to write for you.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+LESSON NUMBER ONE
+
+
+Frankly, I am not much of a hand at machinery of any sort. I have no
+prejudice against it as such, for some of my best friends are of a
+mechanical turn of mind, and very nice fellows they are too. But the
+pencil sharpener in our office is about as far as I, personally, have
+ever got in the line of operating a complicated piece of mechanism
+with any degree of success.
+
+So, when George suggested that he teach me to run his car, it seemed a
+reasonable proposition. Obviously, _some one_ had to teach me. I
+couldn't be expected to go out and pick the thing up by myself, like
+learning to eat olives. No matter how well-intentioned I might be, or
+how long I stuck at it, the chances are that I never could learn to
+drive a car simply by sitting in the seat alone and fooling around
+among the gadgets until I found the right ones. Something would be
+sure to happen to spoil the whole thing long before I got the hang of
+it.
+
+The car was, therefore, brought out into the driveway at the side of
+the house, like a bull being led into the ring for a humid afternoon
+with the matador. It was right here that George began to show his true
+colors, for he stopped the engine, which was running very nicely as it
+was, and said that I might as well begin by learning to crank it, as I
+probably would spend seven-eighths of my driving time cranking in the
+future.
+
+I didn't like this in George. It showed that he wasn't going about it
+in the right spirit. He was beginning with the assumption that I would
+make a dub of myself, and, as I was already beginning to assume the
+same thing, it looked rather black for the lesson, with both parties
+to it holding the same pessimistic thought.
+
+So, right off the bat, I said:
+
+"No, George. It seems to me that you ought to crank it yourself.
+To-day I am learning to _drive_ the car. 'One thing at a time' is my
+motto. That is what has brought our modern industrial system to its
+present state of efficiency: the Division of Labor--one man who does
+nothing but make holes in washers, another who does nothing but slip
+the washers over the dinguses over which they belong; one man who
+devotes his whole time to running a car, another who specializes in
+cranking it. Now, in the early days of industry, when the guild was
+the unit of organization among the workers--"
+
+George, having cranked the engine, motioned me into the driver's seat,
+and took his position beside me. It struck me that the thing was very
+poorly arranged, in that the place which was to be occupied by the
+driver, obviously the most important person in the car (except, of
+course, the lady member of the party in the tonneau, who holds the
+bluebook and gives wrong directions as to turnings), was all cluttered
+up with a lot of apparatus and pedals and things, so much so that I
+had to inhale and contract in order to squeeze past the wheel into my
+seat. And even then I was forced to stretch one leg out so far that I
+kicked a little gadget on a box arrangement on the dashboard, which
+apparently stopped the engine. As he cranked it again, George said,
+among other things, that it couldn't possibly have been done except on
+purpose, and that he could take a joke as well as the next man, but
+that, good night, what was the use of being an ass?
+
+As if I, with no mechanical instinct whatever, knew what was in that
+box! I don't know even now, and I have got my driver's license.
+
+George finally got things stirring again and climbed in, leaving the
+door partly open no doubt in order that, in case of emergency, he
+could walk, not run, to the street via the nearest exit.
+
+"The gear set of this car is of the planetary type," he said, by way
+of opening the seminar, while the motor behaved as if it were trying
+to jiggle its way out from under the cushions and bite me. "This
+planetary system gives two forward speeds and a reverse motion."
+
+[Illustration: "George said that he could take a joke, but that, good
+night! what was the use of being an ass?"]
+
+"Nothing could be fairer than that. It sounds like an almost perfect
+arrangement to me," I said, to show that I was listening. And then, to
+show that I was thinking about the thing as well, I asked: "But surely
+you don't have to pedal the thing along yourself by foot power! All
+those pedals down there would seem to leave very little for the
+gasoline power to do."
+
+"Those three pedals are what do the trick," explained George. And then
+he added ominously: "If you should step on that left-hand one now, you
+would throw in your clutch."
+
+"Please, George, don't get morbid," I protested. "I'm nervous enough
+as it is, without having to worry about my own bodily safety."
+
+"The middle pedal, marked 'R,' is the reverse, and the one at the
+right, marked 'B,' is the foot brake. Now, when you want to start--"
+
+"Just a minute, please," I said sternly. "You skip over those as if
+there were something about them you were a little ashamed of, George.
+Are you keeping something from me about the reverse and the foot
+brake?"
+
+"I didn't know but that somewhere in your valuable college course they
+taught you what 'reverse' meant, and I was sure that your little son
+had told you all about the foot brake on his express wagon," said
+George, waxing sarcastic in the manner of the technical man that he
+is.
+
+"I don't want you to take anything for granted in teaching me to run
+this thing," I replied. "It is those little things that count, you
+know, and I would feel just as badly as you would if I were to run
+your car over a cliff into a rocky gorge because of some detail that I
+was uninformed about. You know that, George."
+
+"Very well," he said, "I'll get down to fundamentals. When you push
+the reverse pedal, you drive the car in the opposite direction from
+that in which it is headed. This is done by tightening the external
+contracting clutch bands which are between the gearing and the disk
+clutch."
+
+Somehow this struck me as funny. The idea of reversing by tightening
+_any_ bands at all, much less external contracting ones, was the one
+thing needed to send me off into roars of laughter. The whole thing
+seemed so flat, after the excitement of the war, and everything.
+
+Naturally George didn't get it. It was 'way over his head, and I knew
+that there would be no use trying to explain it to him. So I just
+continued to chuckle and murmur: "External contracting clutch bands!
+You'll be the death of me yet, George!"
+
+But I felt that, as the minutes went by, the situation was getting
+strained. My instructor and I were growing farther and farther apart
+in spirit, and, after all, it was his car and he was going to
+considerable trouble to teach me to run it, and the least that I could
+do would be to take him seriously, whether the thing struck me as
+being sensible or not.
+
+So I calmed myself with some effort, and tried to bring the
+conversation around to an opening for him to begin with further
+explanations.
+
+"But, all joking aside, George, how can you be so sure about these
+things? You say that when you push the reverse pedal you tighten the
+external contracting clutch bands. Did you ever see them tighten? Or
+were you taking some one's word for it? Remember how the German people
+were deceived for years by their rulers! Now supposing--just
+supposing--that it had been to some unscrupulous person's advantage to
+make you think that the--"
+
+"Now, listen, Bob," said George (my name _is_ Bob, and I see no reason
+why, simply because I am writing a piece about myself, I should make
+believe that my name is Stuart or Will, especially as it is right
+there in black and white at the head of the story. This assuming new
+names on the part of authors is a literary affectation which ought to
+be done away with once and for all). "Now, listen, Bob," said George,
+very quietly and very distinctly, "the only thing for you to do if you
+are going to learn to run this thing, is to get right down to brass
+tacks and _run_ it, and the sooner you try it, the better."
+
+"Oh, you practical guys!" I said. "Nothing will do but you must
+always be getting down to brass tacks. It's men like you who are
+driving all the poetry out of the world."
+
+"You flatter me," said George, reaching bruskly across me as if he
+were after the salt and pepper, and adjusting a couple of dingbats on
+the steering wheel. "This here is the spark, and this is the throttle.
+The throttle governs the gas supply, and the spark regulates the--eh,
+well, it regulates the spark."
+
+"What won't these scientists think up next?" I marveled. "It's
+uncanny, that's what it is--uncanny."
+
+"_Now_, then: hold your foot on the clutch pedal and keep her in
+neutral, while you shove your hand lever forward as far as it will go.
+_That's_ right!... That's fine ... 'way forward ... now ... _that's_
+right ... that's fine!"
+
+I was so encouraged by the way things seemed to be going that I took
+all my feet away from all the things they were stepping on, and
+sighed:
+
+"Let's rest a minute, old man. I'm all of a tremble. It's much easier
+than I thought, but I'd rather take it stage by stage than to dash
+right off the first thing."
+
+The trouble seemed to be that, in lifting my feet, I had discouraged
+the motor, which sighed and stopped functioning, giving the car a
+playful shake, like an Erie local stopping at Babbitt (N.J.) on
+signal. So George said that, in the future, no matter how well things
+seemed to be going, never to give in to my emotions again, but keep
+right on working, even though it looked as if I were in danger of
+becoming an expert driver in three minutes. There is always something
+to learn, he said. Then he got out and cranked the engine.
+
+We went through the same process again, only I kept my foot on the vox
+humana pedal until I had crammed it 'way into fortissimo. Then
+suddenly a wonderful thing happened. The whole thing--car, engine,
+George, and I--began to move, all together. It was a big moment in my
+life. I could see the headlines in the evening papers:
+
+    YOUNG SCRIBE OVERCOMES NATURAL LAWS
+      Causes Auto to Move by Pushing Pedal
+
+But this elation was for only a moment. For, while we had been
+arguing, some one had sneaked up in front of us and transplanted the
+hydrangea bush from the lawn at our side to the very middle of the
+driveway, a silly place for a hydrangea bush at best, but an
+absolutely fatal one at the moment when an automobile was being driven
+through the yard.
+
+It was but the work of a second for me to sense the danger. It was but
+the work of half a second, however, for us to be rustling our way
+slowly and lumberingly into the luxuriant foliage of the bush. So I
+was just about half a second late, which I do not consider bad for a
+beginner.
+
+"Put on your brake!" shouted George.
+
+Quick as a wink (one of those long sensuous winks) I figured out which
+the brake was, by finding the symbolical "B" on the pedal. Like a
+trained mechanician I stepped on it.
+
+"Release your clutch first, you poor fish!" screamed George, above the
+horrible grinding noise. "Release your clutch!"
+
+This was more than flesh and blood could bear. Again I relieved my
+feet from any responsibility in the affair, and turned to my
+instructor.
+
+"Don't _shout_ so!" I yelled back at him. "And don't keep calling it
+_my_ clutch! It may be because I was brought up in a Puritan family,
+but the whole subject of clutches is a closed book to me. If it is
+something I should know about, you can tell me when we get in the
+house. But, for the present, let's drop the matter. At any rate, I
+stopped your darn car, clutch, or no clutch."
+
+And so I had. There we were, in the middle of the hydrangea bush, very
+quiet and peaceful, like a couple of birds in a bird house atop of
+rustling oak (or maple, for that matter). Even the engine had stopped.
+
+I reached out and plucked a blossom that was peeking over the
+dashboard where the whip socket should have been. After all, there is
+no place like the country. I said so to George, and he tacitly agreed.
+At least, I took it to be agreement. It was certainly tacit. I was
+afraid that he was a little hurt over what I had said about the
+clutch, and so I decided that it might be best not to mention the
+subject again. In fact, it seemed wiser to get away from the topic of
+automobiles entirely. So I said softly:
+
+"George, did it ever occur to you how the war has changed our daily
+life? Not only have we had to alter our methods of provisioning our
+tables and feeding our families, but we have acquired a certain
+detachment of mind, a certain new sufficiency of spirit."
+
+(We had both alighted from the car and had placed ourselves, one on
+each side, to roll it out of the embraces of the hydrangea bush.)
+
+"I have been reading a book during the past week on Problems of
+Reconstruction," I continued, "and I have been impressed by the
+thought which is being given to the development of the waste lands in
+the West."
+
+[Illustration: "After all, there is no place like the country. I said
+so to George, and he tacilty agreed."]
+
+(We had, by this time, got the car rolled out into the driveway
+again.)
+
+"The problem of the children, too, is an absorbing one for the years
+which lie ahead of us. We cannot go back to the old methods of child
+training, any more than we can go back to the old methods of
+diplomacy. The war has created a hiatus. That which follows will
+depend on the zeal with which America applies herself to her task of
+rehabilitation."
+
+(The machine was now moored in her parking space by the porte-cochère,
+and the brakes applied.)
+
+"It seems to me that we are living in a great period of transition;
+doesn't it look that way to you, George?"
+
+"Yes," said George.
+
+And so we went into the house.
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+THOUGHTS ON FUEL SAVING
+
+
+Considerable space has been given in the magazines and newspapers this
+winter to official and expert directions on How to Run Your Furnace
+and Save Coal--as if the two things were compatible. Some had
+accompanying diagrams of a furnace in its normal state, showing the
+exact position of the arteries and vitals, with arrows pointing in
+interesting directions, indicating the theoretical course of the heat.
+
+I have given some time to studying these charts, and have come to the
+conclusion that when the authors of such articles and I speak the word
+"furnace," we mean entirely different things. They are referring to
+some idealized, sublimated creation; perhaps the "furnace" which
+existed originally in the mind of Horace W. Furnace, the inventor;
+while, on the other hand, I am referring to the thing that is in my
+cellar. No wonder that I can't understand their diagrams.
+
+For my own satisfaction, therefore, I have drawn up a few regulations
+which I can understand, and have thrown them together most informally
+for whatever they may be worth. Any one else who has checked up the
+official furnace instructions with Life as it really is and has found
+something wrong somewhere may go as far as he likes with the results
+of my researches. I give them to the world.
+
+Saving coal is, just now, the chief concern of most householders, for
+we are now entering that portion of the solstice when it is beginning
+to be necessary to walk some distance into the bin after the coal.
+When first the list of official admonitions were issued, early in the
+season, it was hard to believe that they ever would be needed. The bin
+was so full that it resembled a drug-store window piled high with
+salted peanuts. (As a matter of actual fact, there is probably nothing
+that coal looks _less_ like than salted peanuts, but the effect of
+tremendous quantity was the same.) Adventurous pieces were fairly
+popping out of confinement and rolling over the cellar. It seemed as
+if there were enough coal there to give the _Leviathan_ a good run for
+her money and perhaps take her out as far as Bedloe Island. A fig for
+coal-saving devices!
+
+But now the season is well on, and the bad news is only too apparent.
+The householder, as he finds himself walking farther and farther into
+the bin after the next shovelful, realizes that soon will come the
+time when it will be necessary to scrape the leavings into a corner,
+up against the side of the bin, and to coal his fire, piece by piece,
+between his finger and thumb, while waiting for the dealer to deliver
+that next load, "right away, probably to-day, to-morrow at the
+latest."
+
+It is therefore essential that we turn constructive thought to the
+subject of coal conservation. I would suggest, in the first place, an
+exact aim in shoveling coal into the fire box.
+
+By this I mean the cultivation of an exact aim in shoveling coal into
+the fire box. In my own case (if I may be permitted to inject the
+personal element into this article for one second), I know that it
+often happens that, when I have a large shovelful of coal in readiness
+for the fire, and the door to the fire box open as wide as it will go,
+there may be, nevertheless, the variation of perhaps an eighth of an
+inch between the point where the shovel should have ended the arc in
+its forward swing and the point at which it actually stops. In less
+technical phraseology, I sometimes tick the edge of the shovel against
+the threshold of the fire box, instead of shooting it over as should
+be done. Now, as I usually take a rather long, low swing, with
+considerable power behind it (if I do say so), the sudden contact of
+the shovel with the threshold results in a forceful projection of the
+many pieces of coal (and whatever else it is that comes with the coal
+for good measure) into all corners of the cellar. I have seen coal fly
+from my shovel under such circumstances with such velocity as to land
+among the preserves at the other end of the cellar and in the opposite
+direction from which I was facing.
+
+[Illustration: "In less technical language, I sometimes tick the edge
+of the shovel against the threshold of the fire box."]
+
+Now, this is obviously a waste of coal. It would be impossible to
+stoop all about the cellar picking up the vagrant pieces that had
+flown away, even if the blow of the shovel against the furnace had
+not temporarily paralyzed your hand and caused you to devote your
+entire attention to the coining of new and descriptive word pictures.
+
+I would suggest, for this trouble, the taking of a "stance" in front
+of the fire box, with perhaps chalk markings for guidance of the feet
+at just the right distance away. Then a series of preparatory swings,
+as in driving off in golf, first with the empty shovel, then with a
+gradually increasing amount of coal. The only danger in this would be
+that you might bring the handle of the shovel back against an ash can
+or something behind you and thus spill about as much coal as before.
+But there, there--if you are going to borrow trouble like that, you
+might as well give up right now.
+
+Another mishap of a somewhat similar nature occurs when a shovelful of
+ashes from under the grate is hit against the projecting shaker,
+causing the ashes to scatter over the floor and the shoes. This is a
+very discouraging thing to have happen, for, as the ashes are quite
+apt to contain at least three or four pieces of unburnt coal, it means
+that those pieces are as good as lost unless you have time to hunt
+them up. It also means shining the shoes again.
+
+I find that an efficacious preventive for this is to take the shaker
+off when it is not in use and stand it in the corner. There the worst
+thing that it can do is to fall over against your shins when you are
+rummaging around for the furnace-bath-brush among the rest of the
+truck that hangs on the wall.
+
+And, by the way, there are at least two pieces of long-handled
+equipment hanging on my cellar wall (items in the estate of the former
+tenant, who must have been a fancier of some sort) whose use I have
+never been able to figure out. I have tried them on various parts of
+the furnace at one time or another, but, as there is not much of
+anything that one on the outside of a furnace can do but _poke_, it
+seems rather silly to have half a dozen niblick-pokers and
+midiron-pokers with which to do it. One of these, resembling in shape
+a bridge, such as is used on all occasions by novices at pool, I
+experimented with one night and got it so tightly caught in back of
+the grate somewhere that I had to let the fire go out and take the
+dead coals out, piece by piece, through the door in order to get at
+the captive instrument and release it. And, of course, all this
+experimenting wasted coal.
+
+The shaker is, however, an important factor in keeping the furnace
+going, for it is practically the only recourse in dislodging clinkers
+which have become stuck in the grate--that is, unless you can kick
+the furnace hard enough to shake them down. I have, in moments when, I
+am afraid, I was not quite myself, kicked the furnace with
+considerable force, but I never could see that it had any effect on
+the clinker. This, however, is no sign that it can't be done. I would
+be the first one to wish a man well who did it.
+
+But, ordinarily, the shaker is the accepted agent for teaching the
+clinker its place. And, in the fancy assorted coal in vogue this
+season (one-third coal, one-third slate, and one-third rock candy)
+clinkers are running the combustible matter a slightly better than
+even race. This problem is, therefore, one which must be faced.
+
+I find that a great deal of satisfaction, if not tangible results, can
+be derived from personifying the furnace and the recalcitrant clinker,
+and endowing them with human attributes, such as fear, chagrin, and
+susceptibility to physical and mental pain. In this fanciful manner
+the thing can be talked to as if it were a person, in this way lending
+a zest to the proceedings which would be entirely lacking in a contest
+with an inanimate object.
+
+Thus, when it is discovered that the grate is stuck, you can say,
+_sotto voce_:
+
+"Ho, ho! you *********! So that's your game, is it?"
+
+(I would not attempt to dictate the particular epithets. Each man
+knows so much better than any one else just what gives him the most
+comfort in this respect that it would be presumptuous to lay down any
+formula. Personally, I have a wonderful set of remarks and proper
+names which I picked up one summer from a lobster man in Maine, which
+for soul-satisfying blasphemy are absolutely unbeatable. I will be
+glad to furnish this set to any one sending a stamped, self-addressed
+envelope.)
+
+You then seize the shaker with both hands and give it a vicious yank,
+muttering between your teeth:
+
+"We'll see, my fine fellow! We'll see!"
+
+This is usually very effective in weakening the morale of the clinker,
+for it then realizes right at the start that it is pitted against a
+man who is not to be trifled with.
+
+This should be followed by several short and powerful yanks,
+punctuated on the catch of each stroke with a muttered: "You
+*********!"
+
+If you are short of wind, the force of this ejaculation may diminish
+as the yanks increase in number, in which case it will be well to rest
+for a few seconds.
+
+At this point a little strategy may be brought to bear. You can turn
+away, as if you were defeated, perhaps saying loudly, so that the
+clinker can hear: "Ho-hum! Well, I guess I'll call it a day," and
+pretend to start upstairs.
+
+Then, quick as a wink, you should turn and leap back at the shaker,
+and, before the thing can recover from its surprise, give it a yank
+which will either rip it from its moorings or cause your own vertebræ
+to change places with a sharp click. It is a fifty-fifty chance.
+
+[Illustration: "Quick as a wink you should turn and leap back at the
+shaker."]
+
+But great caution should be observed before trying these heroic
+measures to make sure that the pins which hold the shaker in place are
+secure. A loosened pin will stand just so much shaking, and then it
+will unostentatiously work its way out and look around for something
+else to do. This always causes an awkward situation, for the yank next
+following the walkout of the pin, far from accomplishing its purpose
+of dispossessing the clinker, will precipitate you over backward among
+the ash cans with a viciousness in which it is impossible not to
+detect something personal.
+
+Immediately following such a little upset to one's plans, it is
+perhaps the natural impulse to arise in somewhat of a pet and to set
+about exacting punitive indemnities. This does not pay in the end. If
+you hit any exposed portion of the furnace with the shaker the chances
+are that you will break it, which, while undoubtedly very painful to
+the furnace at the time, would eventually necessitate costly repairs.
+And, if you throw coal at it, you waste coal. This, if you remember,
+is an article on how to save coal.
+
+Another helpful point is to prevent the fire from going out. This may
+be accomplished in one way that I am sure of. That is, by taking a
+book, or a ouija board, or some other indoor entertainment downstairs
+and sitting two feet away from the furnace all day, being relieved by
+your wife at night (or, needless to say, vice versa). I have never
+known this method of keeping the fire alive to fail, except when the
+watcher dropped off to sleep for ten or fifteen minutes. This is
+plenty of time for a raging fire to pass quietly away, and I can prove
+it.
+
+Of course this treatment cuts in on your social life, but I know of
+nothing else that is infallible. I know of nothing else that can
+render impossible that depressing foreboding given expression by your
+wife when she says: "Have you looked at the fire lately? It's getting
+chilly here," followed by the apprehensive trip downstairs, eagerly
+listening for some signs of caloric life from within the
+asbestos-covered tomb; the fearful pause before opening the door,
+hoping against hope that the next move will disclose a ruddy glow
+which can easily be nursed back to health, but feeling, in the
+intuitive depths of your soul, that you might just as well begin
+crumpling up last Sunday's paper to ignite, for the Grim Reaper has
+passed this way.
+
+And then the cautious pull at the door, opening it inch by inch, until
+the bitter truth is disclosed--a yawning cavern of blackness with the
+dull, gray outlines of consumed coals in the foreground, a dismal
+double-play: ashes to ashes.
+
+These little thoughts on furnace tending and coal conservation are not
+meant to be taken as in any sense final. Some one else may have found
+the exact converse to be true; in which case he would do well to make
+a scientific account of it as I have done. It helps to buy coal.
+
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+NOT ACCORDING TO HOYLE
+
+
+I have just finished reading an article by an expert in auction
+bridge, and it has left me in a cold sweat. As near as I can make out,
+it presupposes that every one who plays bridge knows what he is doing
+before he does it, which simply means that I have been going along all
+this time working on exactly the wrong theory. It may incidentally
+explain why I have never been voted the most popular bridge player in
+Wimblehurst or presented with a loving cup by admiring members of the
+Neighborhood Club.
+
+Diametrically opposed to the system of "think-before-you-play,"
+advocated by this expert, my game has been built up purely on
+intuition. I rely almost entirely on the inner promptings of the
+moment in playing a card. I don't claim that there is anything
+spiritualistic about it, for it does not work out with consistent
+enough success to be in any way uncanny. As a matter of fact, it
+causes me a lot of trouble. When one relies on instinct to remind one
+of what the trumps are, or how many of them have been played, there
+is bound to be a slip-up every so often.
+
+But what chagrins me, after reading the expert's article, is the
+thought that all this while I may have been playing with people who
+were actually thinking the thing out beforehand in a sordid sort of
+way, counting the trumps played and figuring on who had the queen or
+where the ten-spot lay. I didn't think there were such people in the
+world.
+
+Here I have been going ahead, in an honest, hail-fellow-well-met mood,
+sometimes following suit, sometimes trumping my partner's trick,
+always taking it for granted that the idea was to get the hand played
+as quickly as possible in order to talk it over and tell each other
+how it might have been done differently.
+
+It is true that, now and again, I have noticed sharp looks directed at
+me by my various partners, but I have usually attributed them to a
+little mannerism I have of humming softly while playing, and I have
+always stopped humming whenever my partner showed signs of
+displeasure, being perfectly willing to meet any one halfway in an
+effort to make the evening a pleasant one for all concerned. But now I
+am afraid that perhaps the humming was only a minor offense. I am
+appalled at the thought of what really was the trouble.
+
+I should never have allowed myself to be dragged into it at all. My
+first big mistake was made when, in a moment of weakness, I consented
+to learn the game; for a man who can frankly say "I do not play
+bridge" is allowed to go over in the corner and run the pianola by
+himself, while the poor neophyte, no matter how much he may protest
+that he isn't "at all a good player, in fact, I'm perfectly rotten,"
+is never believed, but dragged into a game where it is discovered, too
+late, that he spoke the truth.
+
+[Illustration: "Attributed them to a little mannerism I have of
+humming softly while playing."]
+
+But it was a family affair at first. Dora belonged to a whist club
+which met every Friday afternoon on strictly partizan lines, except
+for once a year, when they asked the men in. My experience with this
+organization had been necessarily limited, as it held its sessions
+during my working hours. Once in a while, however, I would get home in
+time to meet in the front hall the stragglers who were just leaving,
+amid a general searching for furs and over-shoes, and for some
+unaccountable reason I usually felt very foolish on such occasions.
+Certainly I had a right, under the Common Law, to be coming in my own
+front door, but I always had a sneaking feeling, there in the midst of
+the departing guests, that the laugh was on me.
+
+One Friday, when I was confined to my room with a touch of neuralgia
+(it was in my face, if you are interested, and the whole right side
+swelled up until it was twice its normal size--I'd like to tell you
+more about it some time), I could hear the sounds of carnival going on
+downstairs. The noises made by women playing bridge are distinctive.
+At first the listener is aware of a sort of preliminary conversational
+murmur, with a running accompaniment of shuffling pasteboards. Then
+follows an unnatural quiet, punctuated by the thud of jeweled knuckles
+or the clank of bracelets as the cards are played against the baize,
+with now and then little squeals of dismay or delight from some of the
+more demonstrative and an occasional "Good for you, partner!" from an
+appreciative dummy. Gradually, as the hand draws toward its close,
+there begins a low sound, like the murmurings of the stage mob in the
+wings, which rapidly increases, until the room is filled with a shrill
+chatter, resembling that in the Bird House in Central Park, from which
+there is distinguishable merely a wild medley:
+
+"If you had led me your queen--was so afraid she might trump in
+with--my dear, I didn't have a face card in my--threw away just the
+wrong--had the jack, 10, 9, and 7--thought Alice had the king--ace and
+three little ones--how about honors?--my dear, _simply_ frightful--if
+you had returned my lead--my _dear_!"
+
+This listening in at bridge, however, was the nearest I had ever been
+to the front, until it came time for the Friday Afternoon Club to let
+down the bars and have a Men's Night. I had no illusions about this
+"Men's Night," but it was a case of my learning to play bridge and
+accompanying Dora, or of her getting some man in from off the sidewalk
+to take my place, and I figured that it would cause less talk if I
+were there to play myself. As I think it over now, I feel that the
+strange-man scheme might have worked out with less comment being made
+than my playing drew down.
+
+But it was for this purpose that I allowed myself to be instructed in
+the rudiments of bridge. I had nothing permanent in mind in absorbing
+these principles, fully expecting to forget them again the day after
+the party. I miscalculated by about one day, it now seems.
+
+The expert, whose article has been such an inspiration to me, had some
+neat little diagrams drawn for him, showing just where the cards lay
+in the four hands, and with the players indicated as A, B, Y, and Z;
+apparently the same people, come up in the world, who, in our algebras
+some years ago, used to buy and sell apples to each other with
+feverish commercialism and to run races with all sorts of unfair
+handicaps. What a small world it is, after all!
+
+It seems to me, therefore, that, since this is a pretty fairly
+technical article, it might be well if I were to utilize the same
+diagrammatic device and terse method of description, to show the exact
+course of the first hand in which I participated at the party.
+
+A and B are our opponents, X my partner, and I (oddly enough) myself.
+A is Ralph Thibbets, one of those cool devils who think they know all
+about a game, and usually do. He has an irritating way of laying down
+his cards, when the hand is about half played, and saying: "Well, the
+rest are mine," and the most irritating part of it all is that, when
+you have insisted on figuring it out for yourself, he is found to be
+right. I disliked him from the first.
+
+B is Mrs. Lucas, who breathes hard and says nothing, but clanks her
+cards down with finality, seeming to say: "That for you!" She got me
+nervous.
+
+X, my partner, used to be a good friend of mine. And, so far as I am
+concerned, I would be perfectly willing to let bygones be bygones and
+be on friendly terms again.
+
+In utilizing the expert's method of description, I shall improve on it
+slightly by also indicating the conversation accompanying each play, a
+feature which is of considerable importance in a game.
+
+B deals, and finally makes it three diamonds, after X has tried to bid
+hearts without encouragement from me. I pass as a matter of principle,
+not being at all sure of this bidding proposition.
+
+I lead, with a clear field and no particular object in view, the 8 of
+diamonds. It looks as uncompromising as any card in my hand. "Leading
+_trumps_," says X with a raising of the eyebrows. "What do you know
+about that!" I exclaim. "I had forgotten that they were trumps. I must
+be asleep. Like the old Irishman when St. Peter asked him where he
+came from, and he said: 'Begorra--'" A cuts this story short by
+playing the 3 of diamonds; X, with some asperity, discards the 3 of
+spades, and B takes the trick with the 10-spot. Silence.
+
+"That story of the Irishman and St. Peter," I continue, "was told to
+me by a fellow in Buffalo last week who had just come from France. He
+said that while he was in a place called 'Mousong,' or 'Mousang,' he
+actually saw--"
+
+"Your play," says X. "Oh, I beg your pardon," I say, "whose jack of
+spades is that?" "Mine," says B, drumming on the table with her finger
+nails and looking about the room at the pictures. Having more poor
+diamonds than anything else in my hand, and aiming to get them out of
+the way as soon as possible to give the good cards a chance, I play
+the 5 of diamonds.
+
+"What, trumping it? Have you no spades?" shouts A. I can see that I
+have him rattled; so, although, as a matter of fact, I have got plenty
+of spades, I smile knowingly and sit tight. These smart Alecs make me
+sick, telling me what I should play and what I should not play. A
+accepts the inevitable and plays his 2-spot. X, considerably cheered
+up, plays the 4 and says: "Our trick, partner." I pick up the cards
+and mix them with those already in my hand, reverting, for the time,
+to poker tactics. This error, alone among all that I make during the
+game, is unobserved.
+
+"Well, I suppose that you people are all excited over that new baby up
+at your house," I say pleasantly to A, just to show him that I can be
+gracious in victory as well as in defeat. "Let's see, is it a boy or a
+girl?"
+
+"It's _your lead_!" he replies shortly.
+
+"I beg your pardon," I say; "I certainly must be asleep to-night."
+And, as my thumb is on the 5 of diamonds, I lead it.
+
+"Here, here!" says A, "wasn't it the 5 of diamonds that you trumped in
+with just a minute ago?" That man has second-sight. As a matter of
+fact, I suspect that there is something crooked about him. "Yes, it
+is," corroborates B in her longest speech of the evening. X says:
+"Where _is_ that trick that we took?" And then it is discovered that
+it has found its way into my hand, from which it is disentangled with
+considerable trouble and segregated. As for me, I pass the whole thing
+off as a joke.
+
+"I saw in the paper this morning," I began when the situation has
+become a little less complicated, "where a woman in Perth Amboy found
+a hundred dollars in the lining of an old lounge in--"
+
+[Illustration: "'Here, here!' says A, 'wasn't it the 5 of diamonds
+that you trumped in with just a minute ago?'"]
+
+"It's your lead, if you don't mind," says A very distinctly. "You have
+made only one false start out of a possible three. Try again." I
+pretend not to hear this sarcasm, and, just to show him that there is
+life in the old dog yet, I lead my ace of spades.
+
+"Look here, my dear sir!" says A, quite upset by now. "Only one hand
+ago you refused spades and trumped them. That revoking on your part
+gives us three tricks and we throw up the hand."
+
+"Fair enough," I retort cheerfully, "three is just what you bid, isn't
+it? Quite a coincidence, I call it," and with that I throw my cards on
+the table with considerable relief. Nothing good could have come of
+this hand, even if we had played until midnight.
+
+From all sides now arose the familiar sounds of the post-mortem: "I
+had the jack, 10, 9, and 7, all good, but I just couldn't get in with
+them.... If you had only led me your king, we could have set them at
+least two.... I knew that Grace had the queen, but I didn't dare try
+to finesse.... We had simple honors.... As soon as I saw you leading
+spades, I knew that there was nothing in it," etc., etc.
+
+But at our table there was no post-mortem. Not because there had been
+no death, but there seemed to be nothing to say about it. So we sat,
+marking down our scores, until Dora came up behind me and said: "Well,
+dear, how is your game coming on?"
+
+As no one else seemed about to speak, I said: "Oh, finely, I'm getting
+the hang of it in no time."
+
+My partner muttered something about hanging being too good, which
+seemed a bit uncalled for.
+
+And so I went through the evening, meeting new people and making new
+friends. And, owing to Dora's having neglected to teach me the details
+of score keeping, I had to make a system up for myself, with the
+result that I finished the evening with a total of 15,000 points on my
+card and won the first prize.
+
+"Beginner's luck," I called it with modest good nature.
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+FROM NINE TO FIVE
+
+
+One of the necessary qualifications of an efficient business man in
+these days of industrial literature seems to be the ability to write,
+in clear and idiomatic English, a 1,000-word story on how efficient he
+is and how he got that way. A glance through any one of our more racy
+commercial magazines will serve nicely to illustrate my point, for it
+was after glancing through one of them only five minutes ago that the
+point suggested itself to me.
+
+"What Is Making Our Business Grow;" "My $10,000 System of Carbon-Copy
+Hunting;" "Making the Turn-Over Turn In;" "If I Can Make My Pencil
+Sharpenings Work, Why Can't You?" "Getting Sales Out of Sahara," etc.,
+are some of the intriguing titles which catch the eye of the student
+of world affairs as he thumbs over the business magazines on the
+news-stands before buying his newspaper. It seems as if the entire
+business world were devoting its working hours to the creation of a
+school of introspective literature.
+
+But the trouble with these writers is that they are all successful.
+There is too much sameness to their stuff. They have their little
+troubles at first, it is true, such as lack of coördination in the
+central typing department, or congestion of office boys in the room
+where the water cooler is situated; but sooner or later you may be
+perfectly sure that Right will triumph and that the young salesman
+will bring in the order that puts the firm back on its feet again.
+They seem to have no imagination, these writers of business
+confessions. What the art needs is some Strindberg of Commerce to put
+down on paper the sordid facts of Life as they really are, and to
+show, in bitter words of cynical realism, that ink erasers are not
+always segregated or vouchers always all that they should be, and
+that, behind the happy exterior of many a mahogany railing, all is not
+so gosh-darned right with the world after all.
+
+Now, without setting myself up as a Strindberg, I would like to start
+the ball rolling toward a more realistic school of business literature
+by setting down in my rough, impulsive way a few of the items in the
+account of "How We Make Our Business Lose $100,000 a Year."
+
+All that I ask in the way of equipment is an illustration showing a
+square-jawed, clean-cut American business man sitting at a desk and
+shaking his finger at another man, very obviously the head of the
+sales department because it says so under the picture, who is standing
+with his thumbs in the arm-holes of his waistcoat, gnawing at a big,
+black cigar, and looking out through the window at the smoke-stacks of
+the works. With this picture as a starter, and a chart or two, I can
+build up a very decent business story around them.
+
+[Illustration: "A square-jawed American business man, etc., shaking
+his finger at another."]
+
+In the first place let me say that what we have done in our business
+any firm can do in theirs. It is not that we have any extraordinary
+talents along organization lines. We simply have taken the lessons
+learned in everyday trading, have tabulated and filed them in
+triplicate. Then we have forgotten them.
+
+I can best give an idea of the secret of our mediocrity as a business
+organization by outlining a typical day in our offices. I do this in
+no spirit of boasting, but simply to show these thousands of
+systematized business men who are devoting themselves to literature
+that somewhere in all this miasma of success there shines a ray of
+inefficiency, giving promise of the day that is to come.
+
+The first part of the morning in our establishment is devoted to the
+mail. This starts the day off right, for it gives every one something
+to do, which is, I have found, a big factor in keeping the place
+looking busy.
+
+Personally I am not what is known as a "snappy" dictator. It makes me
+nervous to have a stenographer sitting there waiting for me to say
+something so that she can pounce on it and tear it into hieroglyphics.
+I feel that, mentally, she is checking me up with other men who have
+dictated to her, and that I am being placed in Class 5a, along with
+the licensed pilots and mental defectives, and the more I think of it
+the more incoherent I become. If exact and detailed notes were to be
+preserved of one of my dictated letters, mental processes, and all,
+they might read something like this:
+
+"Good morning, Miss Kettle.... Take a letter, please ... to the Nipco
+Drop Forge and Tool Company, Schenectady ... S-c-h-e-c--er--well,
+Schenectady; you know how to spell that, I guess, Miss Kettle, ha!
+ha!... Nipco Drop Forge and Tool Company, Schenectady, New York....
+Gentlemen--er (business of touching finger tips and looking at the
+ceiling meditatively)--Your favor of the 17th inst. at hand, and in
+reply would state that--er (I should have thought this letter out
+before beginning to dictate and decided just what it _is_ that we
+desire to state in reply)--and in reply would state that--er ... our
+Mr. Mellish reports that--er ... where is that letter from Mr.
+Mellish, Miss Kettle?... The one about the castings.... Oh, never
+mind, I guess I can remember what he said.... Let's see, where were
+we?... Oh, yes, that our Mr. Mellish reports that he shaw the
+sipment--I mean _saw_ the _shipment_--what's the matter with me? (this
+girl must think that I'm a perfect fool) ... that he shaw the sipment
+in question on the platform of the station at Miller's Falls, and that
+it--er ... ah ... ooom ... (I'll have this girl asleep in her chair in
+a minute. I'll bet that she goes and tells the other girls that she
+has just taken a letter from a man with the mind of an eight-year-old
+boy).... We could, therefore, comma,... what's the matter?... Oh, I
+didn't finish that other sentence, I guess.... Let's see, how did it
+go?... Oh, yes ... and that I, or rather _it_, was in good shape ...
+er, cross that out, please (this girl is simply wasting her time here.
+I could spell this out with alphabet blocks quicker and let her copy
+it) ... and that it was in excellent shape at that shape--er ... or
+rather, at that _time_ ... er ... period. New paragraph.
+
+"We are, comma, therefore, comma, unable to ... hello, Mr. Watterly,
+be right with you in half a second.... I'll finish this later, Miss
+Kettle ... thank you."
+
+When the mail is disposed of we have what is known as Memorandum Hour.
+During this period every one sends memoranda to every one else. If you
+happen to have nothing in particular about which to dictate a
+memorandum, you dictate a memorandum to some one, saying that you have
+nothing to suggest or report. This gives a stimulating exchange of
+ideas, and also helps to use up the blue memorandum blanks which have
+been printed at some expense for just that purpose.
+
+As an example of how this system works, I will give a typical instance
+of its procedure. My partner, let us say, comes in and sits down at
+the desk opposite me. I observe that his scarfpin is working its way
+out from his tie. I call a stenographer and say: "Take a memo to Mr.
+MacFurdle, please. _In re_ Loosened Scarfpin. You are losing your
+scarfpin."
+
+As soon as she has typed this it is given to Mr. MacFurdle's
+secretary, and a carbon copy is put in the files. Mr. MacFurdle, on
+receiving my memo, adjusts his scarfpin and calls his secretary.
+
+"A memo to Mr. Benchley, please. _In re_ Tightened Scarfpin. Thank
+you. I have given the matter my attention."
+
+As soon as I have received a copy of this typewritten reply to my
+memorandum we nod pleasantly to each other and go on with our work. In
+all, not more than half an hour has been consumed, and we have a
+complete record of the negotiations in our files in case any question
+should ever arise concerning them. In case _no_ question should ever
+arise, we still have the complete record. So we can't lose--unless you
+want to call that half hour a loss.
+
+It is then almost lunch time. A quick glance at a pile of carbons of
+mill reports which have but little significance to me owing to the
+fact that the figures are illegible (it being a fifth-string carbon);
+a rapid survey of the matter submitted for my O.K., most of which I
+dislike to take the responsibility for and therefore pass on to Mr.
+Houghtelling for his O.K.; a short tussle in the washroom with the
+liquid-soap container which contains no liquid soap and a thorough
+drying of the hands on my handkerchief, the paper towels having given
+out early in the morning, and I am ready to go to lunch with a man
+from the Eureka Novelty Company who wants to sell us a central
+paste-supply system (whereby all the office paste is kept in one large
+vat in the storeroom, individual brushfuls being taken out only on
+requisitions O.K.'d by the head of the department).
+
+Both being practical business men, we spend only two hours at lunch.
+And, both being practical business men, we know all the subtleties of
+selling. It is a well-known fact that personality plays a big rôle in
+the so-called "selling game" (one of a series of American games, among
+which are "the newspaper game," "the advertising game," "the
+cloak-and-suit game," "the ladies' mackintosh and over-shoe game,"
+"the seedless-raisin and dried-fruit game," etc.), and so Mr. Ganz of
+the Eureka Novelty Company spends the first hour and three-quarters
+developing his "personality appeal." All through the tomato bisque aux
+croutons and the roast prime ribs of beef, dish gravy, he puts into
+practice the principles enunciated in books on Selling, by means of
+which the subject at hand is deferred in a subtle manner until the
+salesman has had a chance to impress his prospect with his geniality
+and his smile (an attractive smile has been known to sell a carload of
+1897 style derbies, according to authorities on The Smile in Selling),
+his knowledge of baseball, his rich fund of stories, and his general
+aversion to getting down to the disagreeable reason for his call.
+
+The only trouble with this system is that I have done the same thing
+myself so many times that I know just what his next line is going to
+be, and can figure out pretty accurately at each stage of his
+conversation just when he is going to shift to one position nearer the
+thing he has to sell. I know that he has not the slightest interest in
+my entertainment other than the sale of a Eureka Central Paste Supply
+System, and he knows that I know it, and so we spend an hour and
+three-quarters fooling the waiter into thinking that we are engaged in
+disinterested camaraderie.
+
+For fifteen minutes we talk business, and I agree to take the matter
+up with the directors at the next meeting, holding the mental
+reservation that a central paste supply system will be installed in
+our plant only over my dead body.
+
+This takes us until two-thirty, and I have to hurry back to a
+conference. We have two kinds of "conference." One is that to which
+the office boy refers when he tells the applicant for a job that Mr.
+Blevitch is "in conference." This means that Mr. Blevitch is in good
+health and reading the paper, but otherwise unoccupied. The other kind
+of "conference" is bona fide in so far as it implies that three or
+four men are talking together in one room, and don't want to be
+disturbed.
+
+This conference is on, let us say, the subject of Window Cards for
+display advertising: shall they be triangular or diamond-shaped?
+
+There are four of us present, and we all begin by biting off the ends
+of four cigars. Watterly has a pile of samples of window cards of
+various shapes, which he hangs, with a great deal of trouble, on the
+wall, and which are not referred to again. He also has a few ideas on
+Window Card Psychology.
+
+"It seems to me," he leads off, "that we have here a very important
+question. On it may depend the success of our Middle Western sales.
+The problem as I see it is this: what will be the reaction on the
+retina of the eye of a prospective customer made by the sight of a
+diamond-shaped card hanging in a window? It is a well-known fact in
+applied psychology that when you take the average man into a darkened
+room, loosen his collar, and shout "Diamonds!" at him suddenly, his
+mental reaction is one in which the ideas of Wealth, Value, Richness,
+etc., predominate. Now, it stands to reason that the visual reaction
+from seeing a diamond-shaped card in the window will...."
+
+[Illustration: "The problem as I see it is this."]
+
+"Excuse me a moment, George," says MacFurdle, who has absorbed some
+pointers on Distribution from a book entitled "The World Salesman," "I
+don't think that it is so important to get after the psychology of the
+thing first as it is to outline thoroughly the Theory of Zone
+Apportionment on which we are going to work. If we could make up a
+chart, showing in red ink the types of retail-stores and in green ink
+the types of jobber establishments, in this district, then we could
+get at the window display from that angle and tackle the psychology
+later, if at all. Now, on such a chart I would try to show the zones
+of Purchasing Power, and from these could be deduced...."
+
+"Just a minute, Harry," Inglesby interrupts, "let me butt in for half
+a second. That chart system is all very well when you are selling
+goods with which the public is already familiar through association
+with other brands, but with ours it is different. We have got to
+estimate the Consumer Demand first in terms of dollar-and-a-quarter
+units, and build our selling organization up around that. Now, if I
+know anything about human nature at all--and I think I do, after being
+in the malleable-iron game for fifteen years--the people in this
+section of the country represent an entirely different trade current
+than...."
+
+At this point I offer a few remarks on one of my pet hobbies, the
+influence of the Gulf Stream on Regional Commerce, and then we all say
+again the same things that we said before, after which we say them
+again, the pitch of the conversation growing higher at each repetition
+of views and the room becoming more and more filled with cigar smoke,
+Our final decision is to have a conference to-morrow afternoon, before
+which each one is to "think the matter over and report his reactions."
+
+This brings the day to a close. There has been nothing remarkable in
+it, as the reader will be the first one to admit. And yet it shows the
+secret of whatever we have not accomplished in the past year in our
+business.
+
+And it also shows why we practical business men have so little
+sympathy with a visionary, impractical arrangement like this League of
+Nations. President Wilson was all right in his way, but he was too
+academic. What we practical men in America want is deeds, not words.
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+TURNING OVER A NEW LEDGER LEAF
+
+
+New Year's morning approximately ninety-two million people in these
+United States will make another stab at keeping personal and household
+accounts for the coming year.
+
+One month from New Year's there will be approximately seventy-three of
+these accountants still in the race (all started). Of these, sixty
+will be groggy but still game and willing to lump the difference
+between the actual balance in their pockets and the theoretical
+balance in the books under the elastic heading "General Expenses" or
+"Incidentals," and start again for February. The remaining thirteen,
+who came out even, will be either professors of accounting in business
+schools or out and out unreliable.
+
+This high mortality rate among amateur accountants is one of the big
+problems of modern household efficiency, and is exceeded in magnitude
+only by the number of schemes devised to simplify household
+accounting. Every domestic magazine, in the midst of its
+autobiographical accounts of unhappy marriages, must needs run a
+chart showing how far a family with an income of $1,500 a year can go
+without getting caught and still put something aside for a canary.
+Every insurance company has had prepared by experts a table of figures
+explaining how, by lumping everything except Rent and Incidentals
+under Luxuries and doing without them, you can save enough from the
+wreckage of $1,200 a year to get in on their special Forty-Year
+Adjournment Policy.
+
+Those publications which cannot get an expert to figure out how much
+you ought to spend per day will publish letters from young housewives
+showing how they made out a budget which in the end brought them in
+more money than they earned and had the grocer and electric light
+company owing them money.
+
+The trouble with all these vicarious budgets is that they presuppose,
+on the part of the user, an ability to add and subtract. They take it
+for granted that you are going to do the thing right. Now, with all
+due respect to our primary and secondary school system, this is
+absurd. Here and there you may find some one who can take a page of
+figures and maul them over so that they will come out right at the
+bottom, but who wants to be a man like that? What fun does he get out
+of life, always sure of what the result is going to be?
+
+As for me, give me the regular method of addition by logic; that is,
+if the result obtained is twelve removed from the result that should
+have been obtained, then, ergo, twelve is the amount by which you have
+miscalculated and it should, therefore, be added or subtracted, as the
+case may be, to or from the actual result somewhere up in the middle
+of the column, so that in the end the thing will balance. And there
+you are, with just the same result as if you had worked for hours over
+the page and quibbled over every little point and figure. There is no
+sense in becoming a slave to numerical signs which in themselves are
+not worth the paper they are written on. It is the imagination that
+one puts into accounting that makes it fascinating. If free verse, why
+not free arithmetic?
+
+It is for the honest ones, who admit that they can't work one of the
+budget systems for the mentally alert, that the accompanying one has
+been devised.
+
+Let us take, for instance, a family whose income is $750,000 a year,
+exclusive of tips. In the family are a father, mother and fox terrier.
+The expenses for such a family come under the head of Liabilities and
+are distributed among six accounts: Food, Lodging, Extras, Extras,
+Incidentals and Extras. For this couple I would advise the following
+system:
+
+Take the contents of the weekly pay envelope, $14,423.08 (if any one
+is mean enough to go and divide $750,000 into fifty-two parts to see
+if I have got it right, he will find that it doesn't quite come to
+eight cents, but you certainly wouldn't have me carry it out to any
+more places. It took me from three yesterday afternoon until after
+dinner to do what I did). Take the contents of the envelope and lay
+them on the kitchen table in little piles, so much for meat, so much
+for eggs, so much for adhesive plaster, etc., until the kitchen table
+is covered. Then sweep it all into a bag and balance your books.
+
+Balancing the books is another point in the ideal system which often
+makes for trouble. Sticklers for form insist that the two sides of the
+page shall come out alike, even at the expense of your self-respect.
+It is the artificiality of this that hurts. No matter how much you
+spend, no matter how much you receive, at the bottom of the page they
+must add up to the same thing, with a double red line underneath them
+to show that the polls are closed.
+
+But since this is the accepted way of doing the thing, we might just
+as well concede the point and lay our plans accordingly. First take
+the sum that you have left over in the household exchequer at the end
+of the mouth. Put it, or its equivalent in check form, on the table in
+front of you. Then, working backward, find out how much you have spent
+since the first of the month. This sum is the crux of the whole
+system. Divide it into as many equal parts as you have accounts. For
+instance, Food, Rent, Clothes, Insurance and Savings, Operating
+Expenses, Higher Life. If you can't divide it so that it comes out
+even, tuck a little bit on the Higher Life account. And, as the
+student of French says," _Voilà_" (there it is)!
+
+Perhaps you have wondered what I meant by "Higher Life." I have. It
+might be well to state it here so that we can all get it clear in our
+minds. Under the "Higher Life" account you can charge everything that
+you want to do, but feel that you can't afford. If you want to take in
+an inconsequential theatrical performance and can't quite square it
+with your conscience, figure it out this way: By going to that show
+you will become so disgusted with the futility of such things that you
+will come out of the theater all aglow with a resolve to do a man's
+work in the world just as soon as you have caught up with your sleep.
+Surely that comes under "Advancement" or "Higher Life."
+
+Insurance budget helps always include under "Advancement" money spent
+for lectures. Now, it may be that I have drifted away from the big
+things in life since I moved out into the country, but somehow I can't
+just at this moment recollect standing in line at a box office for a
+lecture. But then, my home life is very pleasant.
+
+Lectures would be a very convenient heading, nevertheless, to have in
+your budget. Then, any little items that slip your attention during
+the month you can group under lectures and mark off ten paces in your
+advancement chart.
+
+By way of outlining beforehand just what you can spend on this and
+that (and it is usually on "that") it might be well to take another
+family with a representative income. Let us say that there are four in
+the family and that the income is about $1,000 per year too small. If
+such a family would sit down some evening and draw a chart showing
+father's earning capacity with one red line and the family spending
+capacity with one black line, they would not only have a pleasant
+evening, but they would have a nice, neat chart all drawn and suitable
+for framing.
+
+There is one little technical point that the amateur accountant will
+do well to remember. It gives a distinction to the page and shows that
+you are acquainted with bookkeeping lore. It is this: Label your
+debit column "credits" and your credit column "debits." You might
+think that what you receive into the exchequer would be credited and
+your expenses debited, but that is where you miss the whole theory of
+practical accounting. That would be too simple to be efficient. You
+must wax transcendental, and say, "I, as an individuated entity, am
+nothing. Everything is all; all is everything." There is a
+transcendent Account, to which all other accounts are responsible, and
+hence money turned over to the Cinnamon Account is not credited to
+that account, but rather debited to it, for Cinnamon hereby assumes
+the responsibility for the sum. As money is spent for Cinnamon, its
+account is credited, for it is relieved of that responsibility. Don't
+start wondering where the responsibility finally settles or you will
+throw something out of its stride in your brain.
+
+[Illustration: "They would have a nice, neat chart suitable for
+framing."]
+
+Some people profess to scoff at the introduction of bookkeeping into
+the running of the household. It is simply because they never tasted
+the fascination of the thing.
+
+The advantage of keeping family accounts is clear. If you do not keep
+them you are uneasily aware of the fact that you are spending more
+than you are earning. If you do keep them, you know it.
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+A PIECE OF ROAST BEEF
+
+
+Personally, I class roast beef with watercress and vanilla cornstarch
+pudding as tasty articles of diet. It undoubtedly has more than the
+required number of calories; it leans over backward in its eagerness
+to stand high among our best proteins, and, according to a vivid chart
+in the back of the cookbook, it is equal in food value to three dried
+raisins piled one on the other plus peanut-butter the size of an egg.
+
+But for all that I can't seem to feel that I am having a good time
+while I am eating it. It stimulates the same nerve centers in me that
+a lantern-slide lecture on "Palestine--the Old and the New," does.
+
+However, I have noticed that there are people who are not bored by it;
+in fact, I have seen them deliberately order it in a restaurant when
+they had the choice of something else; so I thought that the only fair
+thing I could do would be to look into the matter and see if, in this
+great city, there weren't some different ways of serving roast beef
+to vary its monotony.
+
+Roast beef is not the same price in all eating-places. What makes the
+difference? What does a diner at the Ritz get in his "roast prime ribs
+of beef au jus" that makes it distinctive from the "Special
+to-day--roast beef and mashed potatoes" of the Bowery restaurant?
+
+To answer these questions I started out on a tour of the
+representative eating-places of some of our best known strata of
+society, and, whatever my conclusions are, you may be sure that they
+are thoroughly inexpert.
+
+First, I tried out what is known as the Bay State Lunch, so called
+because on Thursdays they have a fishcake special. It is one of the
+hundreds of "self-serving" lunchrooms, where you approach the marble
+counter and give your order in a low tone to a man in a barber's coat,
+and then repeat it at intervals of one minute, each time louder and
+each time to a different man, until you are forced to point to a tub
+of salmon salad and say, "Some of that," for which your ticket is
+punched and you are allowed to take your portion and nurse it on the
+over-developed arm of a chair.
+
+Here the roast beef shot through the Punch and Judy arrangement in the
+wall, a piece of meat about as large around as a man's-size mitten,
+steeping in its own gravy and of a pale reddish hue. The price was
+twenty cents, which included a dab of mashed potato dished out in an
+ice-cream scoop, a generous allowance of tender peas, two hot
+tea-biscuits and butter to match.
+
+[Illustration: "Considering the basic ingredient, it was a perfectly
+satisfactory meal."]
+
+Considering the basic ingredient, it was a perfectly satisfactory
+meal, and I felt that twenty cents was little enough to pay for it,
+especially since it was going in on my expense account.
+
+For the next experiment I went to a restaurant where business men are
+wont to gather for luncheon, men who pride themselves on their acumen
+and adherence to the principles of efficiency. The place has a French
+name and its menus are printed on a card the size of a life insurance
+company's complimentary calendar, always an ominous sign. The roast
+beef here was served cold, with a plate of escarole salad (when I was
+a boy I used to have to dig escarole out of the front lawn with a
+trowel so that the grass could have a chance) for seventy-five cents.
+
+The meat bulked a little larger than at the Bay State Lunch, but when
+the fat had been cut away and trimmed off the salvage was about the
+size of a boy's mitten. As for the taste, the only difference that I
+could detect was that one had been hot and the other cold.
+
+And, incidentally, the waiter had some bosom friends in the next room
+who fascinated him so that it was all I could do to make him see that
+if he didn't come around to me once in a while, just as a matter of
+form, there would be no way for me to tip him. Beef and salad, plus
+tip, ninety cents.
+
+That evening I ambled up the Bowery until I came to the Busy Home
+Restaurant. On a black-board in front was written, "Roast Beef, Mashed
+Potatoes and Coffee, 10 Cents." My old hunger again seized me. I said
+to myself: "Look here! Be a man! This thing is getting the best of
+you." But before I knew it I was inside and seated at an
+oilcloth-covered table, saying, in a hoarse voice, "Roast beef!"
+
+The waiter was dressed in an informal costume, with his shirt-sleeves
+rolled up and a mulatto apron about his waist, but he smiled genially
+when he took my order and was back with it in two minutes. The article
+itself was of the regulation size, cut somewhat thinner, perhaps, and
+bordering on the gray in hue, but undoubtedly roast beef. It, too, had
+an affinity for its own gravy and hid itself modestly under an
+avalanche of mashed potatoes. A cup of coffee was also included in the
+ten cents' initial expense, but I somehow wasn't coffee-thirsty that
+night, and so didn't sample it. But I did help myself to the plate
+piled high with fresh bread which was left in front of me. All in all,
+it was what I should call a representative roast beef dinner. And I
+got more than ten cents' worth of calories, I know.
+
+But so far I had kept below the Fourteenth Street belt in my
+investigations. Roast beef is a cosmopolitan habit, and knows no
+arbitrary boundaries; so I went uptown. Into one of the larger of our
+largest hotels, one which is not so near the Grand Central Station as
+to be in the train-shed, and yet not so far removed from it as to be
+represented by a different Assemblyman. Here, I felt, would be the
+test. Could roast beef come back? Surrounded by glittering
+chandeliers and rich tapestries, snowy table linen and silver service,
+here was the chance for the ordinary roast beef to become a veritable
+dainty, with some character, some distinctive touch that should lift
+it above all that roast beef has ever meant before. I entered the
+dining-room, in high hopes.
+
+Clad in a walking suit of virile tweed, I considered myself
+respectably dressed. Not ostentatiously respectable, mind you, but,
+since most of the other diners were in evening dress, rather
+_distingué_, I thought.
+
+But apparently the hotel retainers weren't trained to look through a
+rough exterior and find the sterling qualities beneath. They looked
+through my rough exterior all right, but they didn't stop at my
+sterling qualities. They looked right through to the man behind me,
+and gave him the signal that there was a seat for him.
+
+Not to be outdone, however, I got my place in the sun by cleverly
+tripping my rival as he passed me, so that he fell into the fountain
+arrangement, while I sat down in the seat pulled out for him by the
+head waiter. And, once I was in, there was nothing for them to do but
+let me stay.
+
+After I had been there a few minutes a waiter came and put on a fresh
+table cloth. Five minutes later another man placed a knife and spoon
+at my plate. Later in the evening a boy with a basket of rolls
+wandered by and deposited one on my table with a pair of pincers.
+Personally, I was rather glad that it was working out this way, for it
+would make my story all the better, but I might have really been in a
+hurry for my dinner.
+
+It wasn't long, as the crow flies, before one of the third assistant
+waiters unloosened enough to drop round and see if there was anything
+else I wanted besides one roll and a knife and spoon. I looked over
+the menu as if I were in a pretty captious mood, and then, with the
+air of an epicure who has tasted to the dregs all the condiments of
+Arabia and whose jaded palate refuses to thrill any longer, I ordered
+"roast beef."
+
+It was billed as "90 (.80)," which didn't strike me as being very
+steep, considering the overhead expense there must be in keeping
+little knots of waiters and 'bus-boys standing round doing nothing in
+the further corner of the room.
+
+The waiter wasn't very enthusiastic over my order, and something saved
+me from asking him if they threw in "a side" of mashed potatoes with
+the meat. He seemed to expect something more, even after I had ordered
+potatoes, so I suggested an artichoke. That cheered him up more than
+anything I had done that evening, and he really got quite fratty and
+said: "A little salad, sir?" Again I imitated a man who has had more
+experience with salads than any other three men put together and who
+has found them a miserable sham.
+
+[Illustration: "The waiter wasn't very enthusiastic over my order."]
+
+"No; that will be all for now," I said, and turned wearily away. I
+wanted to tell him that I had a dinner coat at home that looked enough
+sight better than his, but there is no use in making a scene when it
+can be avoided.
+
+During the next twenty minutes the orchestra played once and I ate my
+roll. Then the roast beef came.
+
+On a silver platter, with a silver cover, it was placed before me
+under the best possible scenic conditions. But the thing that met my
+gaze when the cover was lifted might just as well have been the same
+property piece of roast beef that was keeping company with a dab of
+mashed potato in the Bay State Lunch. It had a trifle more fat, was
+just a shade pinker, and perhaps a micrometer could have detected a
+bit more bulk; but, so far as I was concerned or so far as the
+calories were concerned, it was the same. I won't say that it was the
+same as the Roast Beef Special of the Bowery Restaurant, because the
+service in the Bowery Restaurant was infinitely better.
+
+As a fitting garniture to such a dish, there was a corsage of
+watercress draped on the corner of the salver. At any rate, it could
+be said for it that it was not intoxicating, and so could never cause
+any real misery in this world.
+
+I nibbled at my roast beef, but my spirit was broken. I had gone
+through a week of self-denial, ordering roast beef when I craved
+edibles, eating at restaurants while my family waited for me at home,
+and here was the result of my researches: Roast beef is roast beef,
+and nothing can prevent it. From the ten-cent order of the Busy Home
+Restaurant, up through to the piece I was then eating, it was the same
+grim reality, the only justification for a difference in price being a
+silver salver or a waiter in a tuxedo.
+
+"But," I said to myself, "eighty cents isn't so much, at that.
+Besides, I have heard the orchestra play one tune every half-hour, and
+have had a kind word from one of the _chargés d'affaires_ of the
+waiter's staff."
+
+This quite reconciled me, until my check was brought. There, added to
+the initial expense of eighty cents, was the upkeep, such as "Cover,
+25c." "Potatoes, 30c." And to this must be added the modest fee of
+twenty cents to the waiter and ten cents to the hat-boy who gave me
+the wrong hat. Total expense for one piece of roast beef, $1.70.
+
+These investigations may not prove to be much of a contribution to
+modern science or economics. I doubt if they are ever incorporated in
+any textbook, even if it should be a textbook on this very subject.
+But I must take credit to myself for one thing: Not once throughout
+the whole report have I alluded to the Tenderloin District.
+
+
+
+
+XII
+
+THE COMMUNITY MASQUE AS A SUBSTITUTE FOR WAR
+
+
+With War and Licker removed from the list of "What's Going on This
+Week," how will mankind spend the long summer evenings? Some advocate
+another war. Others recommend a piece of yeast in a glass of
+grape-juice. The effect is said to be equally devastating.
+
+But there is a new school, led by Percy Mackaye, which brings forward
+a scheme for occupying the spare time of the world which has, at
+least, the savor of novelty. It presents the community masque as a
+substitute for war. Whenever a neighborhood, or county, feels the old
+craving for blood-letting and gas-bombing coming on, a town meeting is
+to be called and plans drawn up for the presentation of a masque
+entitled "Democracy" or "From Chrysalis to Butterfly." In this simple
+way, one and all will be kept out in the open air and will get to know
+each other better, thus relieving their bellicose cravings right there
+on the village green among themselves, without dragging a foreign
+nation into the mess at all. The slogan is "Fight Your Neighbors
+First. Why Go Abroad for War?"
+
+The community masque idea is all right in itself. There certainly can
+be no harm in dressing up to represent the Three Platoon System, or
+the Spirit of Machinery, and reciting free verse to the effect that:
+
+    "I am the Three Platoon System. Firemen I represent,
+     And the clash and clang of the Hook and Ladder Company."
+
+No one could find fault with that, provided that those taking part in
+the thing do so of their own free will and understand what they are
+doing.
+
+The trouble with the community masque is not so much with the masque
+as with the community. For while the masque may be a five star
+sporting extra hot from the presses of Percy Mackaye, the community is
+the same old community that has been getting together for inter-Sunday
+School track-meets and Wig and Footlight Club Amateur Theatricals for
+years and years, and the result has always been the same.
+
+Let us say, for instance, that the community of Wimblehurst begins to
+feel the lack of a good, rousing war to keep the Ladies' Guild and
+the men over thirty-five busy. What could be more natural than to call
+in Mr. Mackaye, and say: "What have you got in the way of a nice
+masque for a suburban district containing many socially possible
+people and others who might do very well in ensemble work?"
+
+Something entitled "The March of Civilization" is selected, because it
+calls for Boy Scout uniforms and a Goddess of Liberty costume, all of
+which are on hand, together with lots of Red Cross regalia, left over
+from the war drives. The plot of the thing concerns the adventures of
+the young girl _Civilization_ who leaves her home in the _Neolithic
+Period_ accompanied only by her faithful old nurse _Language_ and
+_Language's_ little children the _Vowels_ and the _Consonants_. She is
+followed all the way from the Neolithic Age to the Present Time by the
+evil spirit, _Indigestion_, but, thanks to the helpful offices of the
+_Spirits of Capillary Attraction_, and _Indestructibility of Matter_,
+she overcomes all obstacles and reaches her goal, _The League of
+Nations_, at last.
+
+But during the course of her wanderings, there have been all kinds of
+sub-plots which bring the element of suspense into the thing. For
+instance, it seems that this person _Indigestion_ has found out
+something about _Civilization's_ father which gives him the upper
+hand over the girl, and he, together with the two gunmen, _Heat_
+and _Humidity_, arrange all kinds of traps for the poor thing to
+fall into. But she takes counsel with the kind old lady,
+_Self-Determination of Peoples_, and is considerably helped by the low
+comedy character, _Obesity_, who always appears at just the right
+moment. So in the end, there is a big ensemble, involving Boy Scouts,
+representatives of those Allies who happen to be in good standing in
+that particular month, seven boys and girls personifying the twelve
+months of the year, Red Cross workers, the Mayor's Committee of
+Welcome, a selection of Major Prophets, children typifying the ten
+different ways of cooking an egg, and the all-pervading _Spirit of the
+Post-Office Department_, seated on a daïs in the rear and watching
+over the assemblage with kindly eyes and an armful of bricks.
+
+This, then, is in brief outline, "The March of Civilization," selected
+for presentation by the Community Council of Wimblehurst. It is to be
+done on the edge of the woods which line the golf-course, and on
+paper, the thing shapes up rather well.
+
+Considerable hard feeling arises, however, over the choice of the
+children to play the parts of the _Vowels_ and the _Consonants_. It
+is, of course, not possible to have all the vowels and consonants
+represented, as they would clutter up the stage and might prove
+unwieldy in the allegretto passages. A compromise is therefore
+effected by personifying only the more graceful ones, like _S_ and the
+lower-case _f_, and this means that a certain discrimination must be
+used in selecting the actors. It also means that a great many little
+girls are going to be disappointed and their mothers' feelings
+outraged.
+
+Little Alice Withstanley is chosen to play the part of the _Craft
+Guild Movement in Industry_, showing the rise of coöperation and unity
+among the working-classes. She is chosen because she has blonde hair
+which can be arranged in braids down her back, obviously essential to
+a proper representation of industrial team-work as a moving force in
+the world's progress. It so happens, however, that the daughter of the
+man who is cast for _Humidity_ has had her eyes on this ingénue part
+ever since the printed text was circulated and had virtually been
+promised it by the Head of the House Committee of the Country Club,
+through whose kindness the grounds were to be used for the
+performance. There is a heated discussion over the merits of the two
+contestants between Mrs. Withstanley and the mother of the betrayed
+girl, which results in the withdrawal of the latter's offer to
+furnish Turkish rugs for the Oriental Decadence scene.
+
+[Illustration: "There is a heated discussion between Mrs. Withstanley
+and the mother of the betrayed girl."]
+
+Following this, the rougher element of the community--enlisted to take
+part in the scenes showing the building of the Pyramids and the first
+Battle of Bull Run--appear at one of the early rehearsals in a state
+of bolshevik upheaval, protesting against the unjust ruling which
+makes them attend all rehearsals and wait around on the side hill
+until their scenes are on, keeping them inactive sometimes from two to
+three hours, according to the finish with which the principals get
+through the prologue and opening scenes showing the Creation. The
+proletariat present an ultimatum, saying that the Committee in charge
+can either shorten their waiting hours or remove the restrictions on
+crap-shooting on the side-hill during their periods of inaction.
+
+There is a meeting of the Director and his assistants who elect a
+delegation to confer with the striking legionaries, with the result
+that no compromise is reached, the soviet withdraws from the masque in
+a body, threatening to set fire to the grass on the first night of the
+performance.
+
+During the rehearsals the husband of the woman who is portraying
+_Winter Wheat_ is found wandering along the brookside with her sister
+cereal _Spring Wheat_, which, of course, makes further polite
+coöperation between these two staples impossible, and the Dance of the
+Food Stuffs has to be abandoned at the last moment. This adds to the
+general tension.
+
+Three nights before the first performance the Director calls every one
+to a meeting in the trophy room of the Club-house and says that, so
+far as he is concerned, the show is off. He has given up his time to
+come out here, night after night, in an attempt to put on a masque
+that will be a credit to the community and a significant event in the
+world of art, and what has he found? Indifference, irresponsibility,
+lack of coöperation, non-attendance at rehearsals, and a spirit of
+_laissez-faire_ in the face of which it is impossible to produce a
+successful masque. Consideration for his own reputation, as well as
+that of the township, makes it necessary for him to throw the whole
+thing over, here and now.
+
+[Illustration: "The audience is composed chiefly of the aged and the
+infirm."]
+
+The Chairman of the Committee then gets up and cries a little, and
+says that he is sure that if every one agrees to pull together during
+these last three days and to attend rehearsals faithfully and to try
+to get plenty of sleep, Mr. Parsleigh, the coach, will consent to help
+them through with the performance, and he asks every one who is
+willing to coöperate to say "Aye." Every one says "Aye" and Mr.
+Parsleigh is won over.
+
+As for the masque itself, it is given, of course; and as most of the
+able-bodied people of the community are taking part, the audience is
+composed chiefly of the aged and the infirm, who catch muscular
+rheumatism from sitting out-of-doors and are greatly bored, except
+during those scenes when their relatives are taking part. The masque
+is hailed as a great success, however, in spite of the fact that the
+community has been disrupted and social life made impossible until the
+next generation grows up and agrees to let bygones be bygones.
+
+But as a substitute for war, it has no equal.
+
+
+
+
+XIII
+
+CALL FOR MR. KENWORTHY!
+
+
+A great many people have wondered to themselves, in print, just where
+the little black laundry-studs go after they have been yanked from the
+shirt. Others pass this by as inconsequential, but are concerned over
+the ultimate disposition of all the pencil stubs that are thrown away.
+Such futile rumination is all well enough for those who like it. As
+for me, give me a big, throbbing question like this: "Who are the
+people that one hears being paged in hotels? Are they real people or
+are they decoys? And if they are real people, what are they being
+paged for?"
+
+Now, there's something vital to figure out. And the best of it is that
+it _can_ be figured out by the simple process of following the page to
+see whether he ever finds any one.
+
+In order that no expense should be spared, I picked out a hotel with
+poor service, which means that it was an expensive hotel. It was so
+expensive that all you could hear was the page's voice as he walked
+by you; his footfalls made no noise in the extra heavy Bokhara. It was
+just a mingling of floating voices, calling for "Mr. Bla-bla, Mr.
+Schwer-a-a, Mr. Twa-a-a."
+
+Out of this wealth of experimental material I picked a boy with a
+discouraged voice like Wallace Eddinger's, who seemed to be saying
+"I'm calling these names--because that's my job--if I wasn't calling
+these--I'd be calling out cash totals in an honor system lunchery--but
+if any one should ever answer to one of these names--I'd have a poor
+spell."
+
+Allowing about fifteen feet distance between us for appearance's sake,
+I followed him through the lobby. He had a bunch of slips in his hand
+and from these he read the names of the pagees.
+
+"Call for Mr. Kenworthy--Mr. Shriner--Mr. Bodkin--Mr. Blevitch--Mr.
+Kenworthy--Mr. Bodkin--Mr. Kenworthy--Mr. Shriner--call for Mr.
+Kenworthy--Mr. Blevitch--Mr. Kenworthy."
+
+Mr. Kenworthy seemed to be standing about a 20 per cent better chance
+of being located than any of the other contestants. Probably the boy
+was of a romantic temperament and liked the name. Sometimes that was
+the only name he would call for mile upon mile. It occurred to me that
+perhaps Mr. Kenworthy was the only one wanted, and that the other
+names were just put in to make it harder, or to give body to the
+thing.
+
+[Illustration: "Sometimes that was the only name he would call for
+mile upon mile."]
+
+But when we entered the bar the youth shifted his attack. The name of
+Kenworthy evidently had begun to cloy. He was fed up on romance and
+wanted something substantial, homely, perhaps, but substantial.
+
+So he dropped Kenworthy and called: "Mr. Blevitch. Call for Mr.
+Blevitch--Mr. Shriner--Mr. Bodkin--Mr. Blevitch--"
+
+But even this subtle change of tactics failed to net him a customer.
+We had gone through the main lobby, along the narrow passage lined
+with young men waiting on sofas for young women who would be forty
+minutes late, through the grill, and now had crossed the bar, and no
+one had raised even an eyebrow. No wonder the boy's voice sounded
+discouraged.
+
+As we went through one of the lesser dining-rooms, the dining-room
+that seats a lot of heavy men in business suits holding cigarettes,
+who lean over their plates the more confidentially to converse with
+their blond partners, in this dining-room the plaintive call drew
+fire. One of the men in business suits, who was at a table with
+another man and two women, lifted his head when he heard the sound of
+names being called.
+
+"Boy!" he said, and waved like a traffic officer signaling, "Come!"
+
+Eagerly the page darted forward. Perhaps this was Mr. Kenworthy! Or
+better yet, Mr. Blevitch.
+
+[Illustration: "Anything here for Studz?"]
+
+"Anything here for Studz?" said the man in the business suit, when he
+was sure that enough people were listening.
+
+"No, sir," sighed the boy. "Mr. Blevitch, Mr. Kenworthy, Mr. Shriner,
+Mr. Bodkin?" he suggested, hopefully.
+
+"Naw," replied the man, and turned to his associates with an air of
+saying: "Rotten service here--just think of it, no call for me!"
+
+On we went again. The boy was plainly skeptical. He read his lines
+without feeling. The management had led him into this; all he could do
+was to take it with as good grace as possible.
+
+He slid past the coat-room girl at the exit (no small accomplishment
+in itself) and down a corridor, disappearing through a swinging door
+at the end. I was in no mood to lose out on the finish after following
+so far, and I dashed after him.
+
+The door led into a little alcove and another palpitating door at the
+opposite end showed me where he had gone. Setting my jaw for no
+particular reason, I pushed my way through.
+
+At first, like the poor olive merchant in the Arabian Nights I was
+blinded by the glare of lights and the glitter of glass and silver.
+Oh, yes, and by the snowy whiteness of the napery, too. "By the napery
+of the neck" wouldn't be a bad line to get off a little later in the
+story. I'll try it.
+
+At any rate, it was but the work of a minute for me to realize that I
+had entered by a service entrance into the grand dining-room of the
+establishment, where, if you are not in evening dress, you are left to
+munch bread and butter until you starve to death and are carried out
+with your heels dragging, like the uncouth lout that you are. It was,
+if I may be allowed the phrase, a galaxy of beauty, with every one
+dressed up like the pictures. And I had entered 'way up front, by the
+orchestra.
+
+Now, mind you, I am not ashamed of my gray suit. I like it, and my
+wife says that I haven't had anything so becoming for a long time. But
+in it I didn't check up very strong against the rest of the boys in
+the dining-room. As a gray suit it is above reproach. As a garment in
+which to appear single-handed through a trapdoor before a dining-room
+of well dressed Middle Westerners it was a fizzle from start to
+finish. Add to this the items that I had to snatch a brown soft hat
+from my head when I found out where I was, which caused me to drop the
+three evening papers I had tucked under my arm, and you will see why
+my up-stage entrance was the signal for the impressive raising of
+several dozen eyebrows, and why the captain approached me just exactly
+as one man approaches another when he is going to throw him out.
+
+(Blank space for insertion of "napery of neck" line, if desired.
+Choice optional with reader.)
+
+I saw that anything that I might say would be used against me, and
+left him to read the papers I had dropped. One only lowers one's self
+by having words with a servitor.
+
+Gradually I worked my way back through the swinging doors to the main
+corridor and rushed down to the regular entrance of the grand
+dining-salon, to wait there until my quarry should emerge. Suppose he
+should find all of his consignees in this dining-room! I could not be
+in at the death then, and would have to falsify my story to make any
+kind of ending at all. And that would never do.
+
+Once in a while I would catch the scent, when, from the humming depths
+of the dining-room, I could hear a faint "Call for Mr. Kenworthy"
+rising above the click of the oyster shells and the soft crackling of
+the "potatoes Julienne" one against another. So I knew that he had not
+failed me, and that if I had faith and waited long enough he would
+come back.
+
+And, sure enough, come back he did, and without a name lost from his
+list. I felt like cheering when I saw his head bobbing through the
+mêlée of waiters and 'bus-boys who were busy putting clean plates on
+the tables and then taking them off again in eight seconds to make
+room for more clean plates. Of all discouraging existences I can
+imagine none worse than that of an eternally clean plate. There can be
+no sense of accomplishment, no glow of duty done, in simply being
+placed before a man and then taken away again. It must be almost as
+bad as paging a man who you are sure is not in the hotel.
+
+The futility of the thing had already got on the page's nerves, and in
+a savage attempt to wring a little pleasure out of the task he took to
+welding the names, grafting a syllable of one to a syllable of
+another, such as "Call for Mr. Kenbodkin--Mr. Shrineworthy--Mr.
+Blevitcher."
+
+This gave us both amusement for a little while, but your combinations
+are limited in a thing like that, and by the time the grill was
+reached he was saying the names correctly and with a little more
+assurance.
+
+It was in the grill that the happy event took place. Mr. Shriner, the
+one of whom we expected least, suddenly turned up at a table alone. He
+was a quiet man and not at all worked up over his unexpected honor. He
+signaled the boy with one hand and went on taking soup with the other,
+and learned, without emotion, that he was wanted on the telephone. He
+even made no move to leave his meal to answer the call, and when last
+seen he was adding pepper with one hand and taking soup with the
+other. I suspect that he was a "plant," or a plain-clothes house
+detective, placed there on purpose to deceive me.
+
+We had been to every nook of the hotel by this time, except the
+writing-room, and, of course, no one would ever look there for patrons
+of the hotel. Seeing that the boy was about to totter, I went up and
+spoke to him. He continued to totter, thinking, perhaps, that I was
+Mr. Kenworthy, his long-lost beau-ideal. But I spoke kindly to him and
+offered him a piece of chocolate almond-bar, and soon, in true
+reporter fashion, had wormed his secret from him before he knew what I
+was really after.
+
+The thing I wanted to find out was, of course, just what the average
+is of replies to one paging trip. So I got around it in this manner:
+offering him another piece of chocolate almond-bar, I said, slyly:
+"Just what is the average number of replies to one paging trip?"
+
+I think that he had suspected something at first, but this question
+completely disarmed him, and, leaning against an elderly lady patron,
+he told me everything.
+
+"Well," he said, "it's this way: sometimes I find a man, and sometimes
+I can go the rounds without a bite. To-night, for instance, here I've
+got four names and one came across. That's about the average--perhaps
+one in six."
+
+I asked him why he had given Mr. Kenworthy such a handicap at the
+start.
+
+A faint smile flickered across his face and then flickered back again.
+
+"I call the names I think will be apt to hang round in the part of the
+hotel I'm in. Mr. Kenworthy would have to be in the dressy dining-room
+or in the lobby where they wait for ladies. You'd never find him in
+the bar or the Turkish baths. On the other hand, you'll never find a
+man by the name of Blevitch anywhere except in the bar. Of course, I
+take a chance and call every name once in so often, no matter where I
+am, but, on the whole, I uses my own discretion."
+
+I gave him another piece of chocolate and the address of a good
+bootmaker and left him. What I had heard had sobered me, and the
+lights and music suddenly seemed garish. It is no weak emotion to feel
+that you have been face to face with a mere boy whose chances of
+success in his work are one to six.
+
+And I found that he had not painted the lily in too glowing terms. I
+followed other pages that night--some calling for "Mr. Strudel," some
+for "Mr. Carmickle," and one was broad-minded enough to page a "Mrs.
+Bemis." But they all came back with that wan look in their eyes and a
+break in their voices.
+
+And each one of them was stopped by the man in the business suit in
+the downstairs dining-room and each time he considered it a personal
+affront that there wasn't a call for "Studz."
+
+Some time I'm going to have him paged, and when he comes out I shall
+untie his necktie for him.
+
+
+
+
+XIV
+
+FOOTBALL; COURTESY OF MR. MORSE
+
+
+Sunday morning these fine fall days are taken up with reading about
+the "40,000 football enthusiasts" or the "gaily-bedecked crowd of
+60,000 that watched the game on Saturday." And so they probably did,
+unless there were enough men in big fur coats who jumped up at every
+play and yelled "Now we're off!" thus obstructing the view of an
+appreciable percentage.
+
+But why stop at the mention of the paltry 50,000 who sat in the Bowl
+or the Stadium? Why forget the twice 50,000 all over the country, in
+Chicago, St. Louis, San Francisco, Atlanta, who watched the same game
+over the ticker, or sat in a smoke-fogged room listening to
+telegraphic announcements, play by play, or who even stood on the
+curbing in front of a newspaper office and watched an impartial
+employee shove a little yellow ball along a black-board, usually
+indicating the direction in which the real football was _not_ going.
+Since it is so important to give the exact number of people who saw
+the game, why not do the thing up right and say: "Returns which are
+now coming in from the Middle West, with some of the rural districts
+still to be heard from, indicate that at least 145,566 people watched
+the Yale-Princeton football game yesterday. Secretary Dinwoodie of the
+San Francisco Yale Club telegraphed late last night that the final
+count in that city would probably swell the total to a round 150,395.
+This is, or will be, the largest crowd that ever assembled in one
+country to watch a football game."
+
+And watching the game in this vicarious manner isn't so bad as the
+fellow who has got tickets and carfare to the real game would like to
+have it. You are in a warm room, where you can stretch your legs and
+regulate your remarks to the intensity of your emotions rather than to
+the sex of your neighbors. And as for thrills! "Dramatic suspense" was
+probably first used as a term in connection with this indoor sport.
+
+The scene is usually some college club in the city--a big room full of
+smoke and graduates. At one end is a scoreboard and miniature
+gridiron, along which a colored counter is moved as the telegraph
+behind the board clicks off the plays hot from the real gridiron.
+There is also an announcer, who, by way of clarifying the message
+depicted on the board, reads the wrong telegram in a loud, clear
+tone.
+
+Just as the crowd in the football arena are crouching down in their
+fur coats the better to avoid watching the home team fumble the
+kick-off, the crowds two and ten hundred miles away are settling back
+in their chairs and lighting up the old pipes, while the
+German-silver-tongued announcer steps to the front of the platform and
+delivers the following:
+
+"Yale won the toss and chose to defend the south goal, Princeton
+taking the west."
+
+This mistake elicits much laughter, and a witty graduate who has just
+had lunch wants to know, as one man to the rest of the house, if it is
+puss-in-the-corner that is being played.
+
+The instrument behind the board goes "Tick-ity-tick-tick-tickity."
+
+There is a hush, broken only by the witty graduate, who, encouraged by
+his first success, wants to know again if it is puss-in-the-corner
+that is being played. This fails to gain.
+
+"Gilblick catches the kick-off and runs the ball back to his own
+3-yard line, where he is downed in his tracks," comes the
+announcement.
+
+There is a murmur of incredulity at this. The little ball on the board
+shoots to the middle of the field.
+
+"Hey, how about that?" shout several precincts.
+
+The announcer steps forward again.
+
+"That was the wrong announcement," he admits. "Tweedy caught the
+kick-off and ran the ball back twenty-five yards to midfield, where he
+is thrown for a loss. On the next play there was a forward pass, Klung
+to Breakwater, which--"
+
+Here the message stops. Intense excitement.
+
+"Tickity-tickity-tick-tickity."
+
+The man who has $5 on the game shuts his eyes and says to his
+neighbor: "I'll bet it was intercepted."
+
+A wait of two triple-space minutes while the announcer winds his
+watch. Then he steps forward. There is a noisy hush.
+
+"It is estimated that 50,000 people filed into the Palmer Stadium
+to-day to watch Yale and Princeton in their annual gridiron contest,"
+he reads. "Yale took the field at five minutes of 2, and was greeted
+by salvos and applause and cheering from the Yale section. A minute
+later the Princeton team appeared, and this was a signal for the
+Princeton cohorts to rise as one man and give vent to their famous
+'Undertaker's Song.'"
+
+"How about that forward pass?" This, as one man, from the audience.
+
+The ball quivers and starts to go down the field. A mighty shout goes
+up. Then something happens, and the ball stops, looks, listens and
+turns in the other direction. Loud groans. A wooden slide in the
+mechanism of the scoreboard rattles into place, upside down. Agile
+spectators figure out that it says "Pass failed."
+
+Every one then sinks back and says, "They ought not to have tried
+that." If the quarterback could hear the graduates' do-or-die backing
+of their team at this juncture he would trot into the locker building
+then and there.
+
+Again the clear voice from the platform:
+
+"Tweedy punts--" (noisy bond-salesman in back of room stands up on a
+chair and yells "Yea!" and is told to "Shut up" by three or four dozen
+neighbors) "to Gumble on his 15-yard line. Gumble fumbles."
+
+The noisy bond-salesman tries to lead a cheer but is prevented.
+
+Frightful tension follows. Who recovered? Whose ball is it? On what
+line? Wet palms are pressed against trouser legs. How about it?
+
+"Tick-tickity-tick-tickity-tickity-tickity."
+
+You can hear the announcer's boots squeak as he steps forward.
+
+"Mr. A.T. Blevitch is wanted on the telephone," he enunciates.
+
+Mr. A.T. Blevitch becomes the most unpopular man in that section of
+the country. Every one turns to see what a man of his stamp can look
+like. He is so embarrassed that he slinks down in his seat and refuses
+to answer the call.
+
+[Illustration: "Noisy bond-salesman in back of room stands up on chair
+and yells 'Yea!'"]
+
+"Klung goes around right end for a gain of two yards," is the next
+message from the front.
+
+The bond-salesman shouts "Yea!"
+
+"How about that fumble?" shouts every one else.
+
+The announcer goes behind the scenes to talk it over with the man who
+works the Punch-and-Judy, and emerges, smiling.
+
+"In the play preceding the one just announced," he says, "Gumble
+fumbled and the ball was recovered by Breakwater, who ran ten yards
+for a touchdown--"
+
+Pandemonium! The bond-salesman leads himself in a cheer. The witty man
+says, "Nothing to it."
+
+There is comparative quiet again, and every one lights up the old
+pipes that have gone out.
+
+The announcer steps forward with his hand raised as if to regulate
+traffic.
+
+"There was a mistake in the announcement just made," he says
+pleasantly. "In place of 'touchdown' read 'touchback.' The ball is now
+in play on the 20-yard line, and Kleenwell has just gone through
+center for three yards."
+
+By this time no one in the audience has any definite idea of where the
+ball is or who has it. On the board it is hovering between midfield
+and second base.
+
+"On the next play Legly punts--"
+
+"Block that punt! Block that punt!" warns the bond-salesman, as if it
+were the announcer who was opposing Legly.
+
+"Sit down, you poor fish!" is the consensus of opinion.
+
+"Legly punts to Klung on the latter's 25-yard line, where the first
+period ends."
+
+And so it goes throughout the game; the announcer calling out gains
+and the dummy football registering corresponding losses; Messrs. A.T.
+Blevitch and L.H. Yank being wanted on the telephone in the middle of
+forward passes; the noisy person in the back of the room yelling "Yea"
+on the slightest provocation and being hushed up at each outbreak; and
+every one wondering what the quarterback meant by calling for the
+plays he did.
+
+In smaller cities, where only a few are gathered together to hear the
+results, things are not done on such an elaborate scale. The dummy
+gridiron and the dummy announcer are done away with and the ten or a
+dozen rooters cluster about the news ticker, most of them with the
+intention of watching for just a few minutes and then going home or
+back to the office. And they always wait for just one more play,
+shifting from one foot to the other, until the game is over.
+
+About a ticker only the three or four lucky ones can see the tape. The
+rest have to stand on tip-toe and peer over the shoulders of the man
+in front. They don't care. Some one will always read the results
+aloud, just as a woman will read aloud the cut-ins at the movies. The
+one who is doing the reading usually throws in little advance
+predictions of his own when the news is slow in coming, with the
+result that those in the back get the impression that the team has at
+least a "varied attack," effecting at times a field goal and a forward
+pass in the same play.
+
+A critical period in the game, as it comes dribbling in over the
+ticker, looks something like this:
+
+    YALE.PRINCTON.GAME....CHEKFMKL.......KLUNG.GOES.
+    AROUND.LEFT.END.FOR.A.GAIN.OF.YDS.....A.FORWARD.
+    PASS.TWEEDY.TO.KLUNG.NETS.....
+    (Ticker stops ticking).
+
+Murmurs of "Come on, there, whasser matter?"
+
+Some one suggests that the pass was illegal and that the whole team
+has been arrested.
+
+The ticker clears its throat. Br-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r
+
+The ticker stabs off a line of dots and begins:
+
+    "BOWIE.FIRST.RACE..MEASLES. FIRST..13.60..AND..
+     6.00.WHORTLEBERRY.SCND.PLACE.3.80..EMMA GOLDMAN,
+     THIRD..TIME.1.09.4.5.NON.START.PROCRASTINATION.
+     UNCLE TOM'S CABIN"
+
+A few choice remarks are passed in the privacy of the little circle,
+to just the effect that you would suspect.
+
+A newcomer elbows his way in and says: "What's the good word? Any
+score yet?" and some one replies: "Yes. The score now stands 206 to 0
+in favor of Notre Dame." This grim pleasantry is expressive of the
+sentiment of the group toward newcomers. It is each man for himself
+now.
+
+Br-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r!
+
+"Here she comes, now!" whispers the man who is hanging over the glass
+news terminal, reading aloud: "Yale-Princeton-Game-Second Quarter
+(Good-night, what became of that forward pass in the first quarter?)
+Yale's-ball-in-mid-field-Hornung-takes-ball-around-left-end-making-it¯
+first-down-Tinfoil-drops-back-for-a-try-at-a-field-goal.
+(Oh, boy! Come on, now!)"
+
+"Why the deuce do they try a field goal on the first down?" asks a
+querulous graduate-strategist. "Now, what he ought to do is to keep
+a-plugging there at tackle, where he has been going--"
+
+Br-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r!
+
+"Bet he missed it!" offers some one with vague gambling instincts.
+
+    "..INS.NEEDLES..1-1/4..ZINC..CON..4-1/2..WASHN..
+     THE CENSUS.OFFICE.ESTIMATES.THE CONSUMPTION.OF
+     COTTON.WASTE.IN.THE.MFGR.OF.AUTOMBLE.HOODS.AS.
+     66.991.059 LBS..INCLUDING.LINTERS.AND.HULL FIBER.."
+
+And just then some one comes in from the outside, all fresh and
+disagreeably cheery, and wants to know what the score is and if there
+have been many forward passes tried and who is playing quarter for
+Yale, and if any one has got a cigarette.
+
+It is really just the same sort of program as obtains in the big
+college club, only on a small scale. They are all watching the same
+game and they are all wishing the same thing and before their
+respective minds' eyes is the picture of the same stadium, with the
+swarm of queen bees and drones clinging to its sides. And every time
+that you, who are one of the cold and lucky ones with a real ticket,
+see a back break loose for a long run and hear the explosion of hoarse
+shouts that follows, you may count sixty and then listen to hear the
+echo from every big city in the country where the old boys have just
+got the news.
+
+
+
+
+XV
+
+A LITTLE DEBIT IN YOUR TONNEAU
+
+
+Motorists, as a class, are not averse to public discussion of their
+troubles. In fact, one often wonders how some of them ever get time to
+operate their cars, so tied up do they seem to be with these little
+experience-meetings, at which one man tells, with appropriate
+gestures, how he ran out of gas between Springfield and Worcester,
+while another gives a perfect bit of character acting to show just how
+the policeman on the outskirts of Trenton behaved.
+
+But there seems to be one phase of the motorist's trials which he
+never bares to the public. He will confide to you just how bad the
+gasoline was that he bought at the country garage; he will make it an
+open secret that he had four blow-outs on the way home from the
+country-club; but of one of his most poignant sorrows he never speaks.
+I refer to the guests who snuggle in his tonneau.
+
+Probably more irritations have arisen from the tonneau than from the
+tires, day in and day out, and yet you never hear a man say, "Well, I
+certainly had an unholy crew of camp-followers out with me
+to-day--friends of my wife." Say what you will, there is an innate
+delicacy in the average motorist, or such repression could not be.
+
+Consider the types of tonneau guests. They are as generic and
+fundamental as the spectrum and you will find them in Maine and New
+Mexico at the same time.
+
+There is the first, or major, classification, which may be designated
+as the Financially Paralyzed. Persons in this class, on stepping into
+your machine, automatically transfer all their money troubles to you.
+You become, for the duration of the ride, whether it be to the next
+corner or to Palm Beach, their financial guardian, and any little
+purchases which are incidental to the trip (such as three meals a day)
+belong to your list of running expenses. There seems to be something
+about the motion of the automobile that inhibits their ability to
+reach for their purses, and they become, if you want to be poetical
+about it, like clay in the hands of the potter. Whither thou goest
+they will go; thy check-book is their check-book. It is just like the
+one great, big, jolly family--of which you are the father and backer.
+
+Such people always make a great to-do about starting off on a trip.
+You call for them and they appear at the window and wave, to signify
+that they see you, and go through motions to show that just as soon as
+Clara has put on her leggings they will be down. Soon they appear,
+swathed in a tremendous quantity of motor wraps and veils (you can
+usually tell the guests in a car by the number of head-veils they
+wear) and get halfway down the walk, when Clara remembers her
+rain-coat and has to swish back upstairs, veils and all. Out again,
+and just as they get wedged into the tonneau, the elderly guest
+wonders if there is time for some one to run in again and tell Helma
+that if the Salvation Army man comes for the old magazines she is to
+tell him to come again to-morrow. By the time this message is relayed
+to Helma Garcia one solid half-hour has been dissipated from the cream
+of the morning. This does not prevent the guests from remarking, as
+the motor starts, that it certainly is a heavenly day and that it
+couldn't have been better if it had been ordered. Knowing the type,
+you can say to yourself that if the day _had_ been ordered you know
+who would have had to give the order and pay the check.
+
+From that time on, you are the moneyed interest behind the venture.
+Meals at road-houses, toll charges, evening papers, hot chocolates at
+the country drug store, hair net for Clara, and, of course, a liberal
+injection of gasoline on the way home, all of these items and about
+fourteen others come in your bailiwick. The guests have been asked out
+for a ride, and "findings is keepings." If you have money enough to
+run a car, you probably have money enough to support them for a day or
+so. That's only fair, isn't it?
+
+[Illustration: "He always has a quip to snap at you to keep you
+cheered up."]
+
+Under a sub-head (a), in this same category, come the guests who are
+stricken with _rigor mortis_ when there are any repairs to be made
+about the machine. Male offenders in this line are, of course, the
+only ones that can be dealt with here; putting on a tire is no job for
+women and children. But the man who is the life of the party in the
+tonneau throughout the trip, who thinks nothing of climbing all over
+the back of the car in imitation of a Roman charioteer, will suddenly
+become an advocate of the basic eight-hour working day which began
+just eight hours before, whenever there is a man's work to be done on
+one of the tires. He will watch you while you work, and always has a
+good word to say or a quip to snap at you to keep you cheered up, but
+when it comes to taking off his coat and lending a hand at the jack he
+is an Oriental incense-holder on the guest-room mantel. He admits in
+no uncertain tones, that he is a perfect dub when it comes to handling
+machinery and that he is more apt to be in the way at a time like this
+than not. And maybe he is right, after all.
+
+We next come to the class of tonneau-freight who are great believers
+in what Professor Muensterberg called "Auto-Suggestion." These people,
+although not seated in the driver's seat, have their own ideas on
+driving and spare no pains to put their theories in the form of
+suggestions. In justice to the Great Army of the Unemployed known as
+"guests" it must be admitted that a large percentage of these
+suggestions emanate from some member of the owner's family and not
+from outsiders. It is very often Mrs. Wife who is off-side in this
+play, but as she is usually in the tonneau, she comes under the same
+classification.
+
+There are various ways of framing suggestions to the driver from the
+back seat. They are all equally annoying. Among the best are:
+
+"For heaven's sake, George, turn in a little. There is a car behind
+that wants to pass us."
+
+"Look out where you're going, Stan."
+
+"Henry, if you don't slow down I'm going to get out and take the train
+back home."
+
+[Illustration: "If this is accompanied with a clutching gesture at the
+driver's arm, it is sure to throw him into a good humor."]
+
+If this is accompanied by a clutching gesture at the driver's arm it
+is sure to throw him into a good humor for the rest of the trip, so
+that a good time will be had by all present.
+
+Although guests are not so prone to make suggestions on the running of
+the car as are those who, through the safety of family connection, may
+do so without fear of bodily assault from the driver, nevertheless, a
+guest may, according to the code, lean over the back of the seat and
+slip little hints as to the route. Especially if one of them be
+entrusted with a Blue Book does this form of auto-suggestion become
+chronic.
+
+"It says here that we should have taken that road to the right back
+there by the Soldiers' Monument," informs the reader over your
+shoulder. Or--
+
+"Somehow this doesn't seem like the right road. Personally, I think
+that we ought to turn around and go back to the cross-roads."
+
+If it is Mrs. Wife in the tonneau who has her own ideas on the route,
+you might as well give in at her first suggestion, for the risk that
+she is right is too great to run. If she says that she would advise
+taking the lane that runs around behind that school-house, take it.
+Then, if it turns out to be a blind alley, you have the satisfaction
+of saying nothing, very eloquently and effectively. But if you refuse
+to take her suggestion, and your road turns out to be even halfway
+wrong, you might as well turn the wheel over to your little son and go
+South for the winter, for you will never hear the ultimate cry of
+triumph. Your season will practically be ruined. I can quote verbatim
+from the last affair of this kind:
+
+(Voice from the tonneau): "Albert, I think we ought to have taken the
+road at the left."
+
+"No, we hadn't."
+
+"I'm sure of it. I saw a sign which said: 'Paxton' on it."
+
+"No, you didn't."
+
+"Well, you wait and see."
+
+"I'm waiting."
+
+There is a silence for ten minutes, while the car jounces along a road
+which gets narrower and rockier.
+
+(Voice from the tonneau): "I suppose you think this is the way to
+Paxton?"
+
+"I certainly _do_."
+
+"Oh, you make me sick!"
+
+Silence and jounces.
+
+Sudden stop as the road ends at a silo.
+
+"I beg your pardon [addressed to a rustic], which is the road to
+Paxton?"
+
+"Paxton?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"The road to Paxton?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, you go back over the rud you just come over, about three mile,
+till you come to a rud turnin' off to the right with a sign which says
+'Paxton.'"
+
+(Voice from the tonneau, beginning at this point and continuing all of
+the way back, all the rest of the day and night, and until snow
+falls): "_There!_ what did I tell you? But, oh no, you know it all.
+Didn't I tell you"--etc., etc.
+
+On the whole, it would seem that the artists who draw the automobile
+advertisements make a mistake in drawing the tonneau so roomy and so
+full of people. There should be no tonneau.
+
+
+
+
+XVI
+
+A ROMANCE IN ENCYCLOPÆDIA LAND
+
+_Written After Three Hours' Browsing in a New Britannica Set_
+
+
+Picture to yourself an early spring afternoon along the banks of the
+river Aa, which, rising in the Teutoburger Wald, joins the Werre at
+Herford and is navigable as far as St. Omer.
+
+Branching _bryophytu_ spread their flat, dorsi-ventral bodies, closely
+applied to the sub-stratum on which they grew, and leafy carophyllaceæ
+twined their sepals in prodigal profusion, lending a touch of color to
+the scene. It was clear that nature was in preparation for her
+estivation.
+
+[Illustration: "Was playing softly to himself on a double curtail or
+converted bass-pommer."]
+
+But it was not this which attracted the eye of the young man who,
+walking along the phonolithic formation of the river-bank, was playing
+softly to himself on a double curtail, or converted bass-pommer, an
+octave below the single curtail and therefore identical in pitch and
+construction with the early _fagotto_ in C.
+
+His mind was on other things.
+
+He was evidently of Melanochronic extraction, with the pentagonal
+facial angle and strong obital ridges, but he combined with this the
+fine lines of a full-blooded native of Coll, where, indeed, he was
+born, seven miles west of Caliach Point, in Mull, and in full view of
+the rugged gneiss.
+
+As he swung along, there throbbed again and again through his brain
+the beautiful opening paragraph of Frantisek Palacky's (1798-1876)
+"_Zur böhmischen Geschichtschreibung_" (Prague, 1871), written just
+after the author had refused a portfolio in the Pillersdorf Cabinet
+and had also declined to take part in the preliminary diet at
+Kromerice.
+
+"If _he_ could believe such things, why can not I?" murmured the young
+man, and crushed a ginkgo beneath his feet. Young men are often so. It
+is due to the elaterium of spring.
+
+"By Ereshkigal," he swore softly to himself, "I'll do it."
+
+No sooner had he spoken than he came suddenly out of the tangle of
+gymnosperms through whose leaves, needle-like and destitute of
+oil-glands as they were, he had been making his way, and emerged to a
+full view of the broad sweep of the Lake of Zug, just where the Lorze
+enters at its northern extremity and one and a quarter miles east of
+where it issues again to pursue its course toward the Reuss. Zug, at
+this point, is 1,368 feet above sea-level, and boasted its first
+steamer in 1852.
+
+"Well," he sighed, as he gazed upon the broad area of subsidence, "if
+I were now an exarch, whose dignity was, at one time, intermediate
+between the Patriarchal and the Metropolitan and from whose name has
+come that of the politico-religious party, the Exarchists, I should
+not be here day-dreaming. I should be far away in Footscray, a city of
+Bourke County, Victoria, Australia, pop. (1901) 18,301."
+
+[Illustration: "He came suddenly out of the tangle of gymnosperms."]
+
+And as he said this his eyes filled with tears, and under his skin,
+brown as fustic, there spread a faint flush, such as is often formed
+by citrocyde, or by pyrochloric acid when acting on uncured leather.
+
+Far down in the valley the natives were celebrating the birthday of
+Gambrinus, a mythical Flemish king who is credited with the first
+brewing of beer. The sound of their voices set in motion longitudinal
+sound waves, and these, traveling through the surrounding medium, met
+the surface separating two media and were in part reflected, traveling
+back from the surface into the first medium again with the velocity
+with which they approached it, as depicted in Fig. 10. This caused the
+echo for which the Lake of Zug is justly famous.
+
+The twilight began to deepen and from far above came the twinkling
+signals of, first, Böotes, then Coma Berenices, followed, awhile
+later, by Ursa Major and her little brother, Ursa Minor.
+
+"The stars are clear to-night," he sighed. "I wonder if they are
+visible from the dacite elevation on which SHE lives."
+
+His was an untrained mind. His only school had been the Eleatic
+School, the contention of which was that the true explanation of
+things lies in the conception of a universal unity of being, or the
+All-ness of One.
+
+But he knew what he liked.
+
+In the calm light of the stars he felt as if a uban had been lifted
+from his heart, 5 ubans being equal to 1 quat, 6 quats to 1 ammat and
+120 ammats to 1 sos.
+
+He was free again.
+
+Turning, he walked swiftly down into the valley, passing returning
+peasants with their baa-poots, and soon came in sight of the shining
+lamps of the small but carefully built pooroos which lined the road.
+
+[Illustration: "She turned like a frightened aardvark." (Male, greatly
+reduced.)]
+
+Reaching the corner he saw the village epi peering over the tree-tops,
+and swarms of cicada, with the toothed famoras of their anterior legs
+mingling in a sleepy drone, like many cichlids. It was all very
+home-like to the wanderer.
+
+Suddenly there appeared on a neighboring eminence a party of guisards,
+such as, during the Saturnalia, and from the Nativity till the
+Epiphany were accustomed to disport themselves in odd costumes; all
+clad in clouting, and evidently returning from taking part in the
+celebration.
+
+[Illustration: "Barnaby Bernard Weenix." (1777-1829.)]
+
+As they drew nearer, our hero noticed a young woman in the front rank
+who was playing folk-songs on a cromorne with a double-reed
+mouth-piece enclosed in an air-reservoir.
+
+In spite of the detritus wrought by the festival, there was something
+familiar about the buccinator of her face and her little mannerism of
+elevating her second phalanx. It struck him like the flash of a cloud
+highly charged by the coalescence of drops of vapor. He approached
+her, tenderly, reverently.
+
+[Illustration: "Why not to Wem?" (From a contemporaneous print.)]
+
+"Lange, Anne Françoise Elizabeth," he said, "I know you. You are a
+French actress, born in Genoa on the seventeenth of September, 1772,
+and you made your first appearance on the stage in _L'Ecossaise_ in
+1788. Your talent and your beauty gave you an enormous success in
+_Pamela_. It has taken me years to find you, but now we are united at
+last."
+
+The girl turned like a frightened aardvark, still holding the
+cromorne in her hand. Then she smiled.
+
+"Weenix, Barnaby Bernard (1777-1829)," she said very slowly, "you
+started business as a publisher in London about 1797."
+
+They looked at each other for a moment in silence. He was the first to
+speak.
+
+"Miss Lange, Anne," he said, "let us go together to Lar--and be happy
+there--happy as two ais, or three-toed South American sloths."
+
+She lowered her eyes.
+
+"I will go with you Mr. Weenix-Barney," she said, "to the ends of the
+earth. But why to Lar? Why not to Wem?"
+
+"Because," said the young man, "Lar is the capital of Laristan, in 27
+degrees, 30 minutes N., 180 miles from Shiraz, and contains an old
+bazaar consisting of four arcades each 180 feet long."
+
+Their eyes met, and she placed her hands in his.
+
+And, from the woods, came the mellow whinnying of a herd of vip, the
+wool of which is highly valued for weaving.
+
+
+
+
+XVII
+
+THE PASSING OF THE ORTHODOX PARADOX
+
+
+Whatever irreparable harm may have been done to Society by the recent
+epidemic of crook, sex and other dialect plays, one great alleviation
+has resulted. They have driven up-stage, for the time being, the
+characters who exist on tea and repartee in "The drawing-room of Sir
+Arthur Peaversham's town house, Grosvenor Square. Time: late Autumn."
+
+A person in a crook play may have talked underworld patois which no
+self-respecting criminal would have allowed himself to utter, but he
+did not sit on a divan and evolve abnormal _bons mots_ with each and
+every breath. The misguided and misinformed daughter in the Self and
+Sex Play may have lisped words which only an interne should hear, but
+she did not offer a succession of brilliant but meaningless paradoxes
+as a substitute for real conversation.
+
+Continuously snappy back-talk is now encountered chiefly in such acts
+as those of "Cooney & LeBlanc, the Eccentric Comedy Dancing Team."
+
+And even _they_ manage to scrape along without the paradoxes.
+
+But there was a time, beginning with the Oscar Wilde era, when no
+unprotected thought was safe.
+
+[Illustration: "Snappy back-talk is now encountered chiefly in such
+acts as 'Cooney & LeBlanc, the Eccentric Comedy Dancing Team.'"]
+
+It might be seized at any moment by an English Duke or a Lady Agatha
+and strangled to death. Even the butlers in the late 'eighties were
+wits, and served epigrams with cucumber sandwiches; and a person
+entering one of these drawing-rooms and talking in connected
+sentences--easily understood by everybody--each with one subject,
+predicate and meaning, would have been looked upon as a high class
+moron. One might as well have gone to a dinner at Lady Coventry's
+without one's collar, as without one's kit of trained paradoxes.
+
+[Illustration: "The butlers served epigrams with the cucumber
+sandwiches."]
+
+A late Autumn afternoon in one of these semi-Oscar Wilde plays, for
+instance, would run something like this:
+
+
+SCENE--_The Octagon Room in Lord Raymond Eaveston's Manor House in
+Stropshire._
+
+LADY EAVESTON and SIR THOMAS WAFFLETON _are discovered, arranging red
+flowers in a vase_.
+
+SIR T.: I detest red flowers; they are so yellow.
+
+LADY E.: What a cynic you are, Sir Thomas. I really must not listen to
+you or I shall hear something that you say.
+
+SIR T.: Not at all, my dear Lady Eaveston. I detest people who listen
+closely; they are so inattentive.
+
+LADY E.: Pray do not be analytical, my dear Sir Thomas. When people
+are extremely analytical with me I am sure that they are superficial,
+and, to me, nothing is more abominable than superficiality, unless
+perhaps it is an intolerable degree of thoroughness.
+
+(_Enter Meadows, the Butler_)
+
+MEADOWS (_announcing_): Sir Mortimer Longley and Mrs. Wrennington,--a
+most remarkable couple,--I may say in announcing them,--in that there
+is nothing at all remarkable about them.
+
+(_Enter Sir Mortimer and Mrs. Wrennington_)
+
+MRS. W.: So sorry to be late, dear Lady Eaveston. But it is so easy to
+be on time that I always make it a point to be late. It lends poise,
+and poise is a charming quality for any woman to have, am I not right,
+Sir Thomas?
+
+SIR T.: You are always right, my dear Mrs. Wrennington, and never more
+so than now, for I know of no more attractive attribute than poise,
+unless perhaps it be embarrassment.
+
+LADY E.: What horrid cynics you men are! Really, Sir Thomas, one might
+think, from your sophisticated remarks that you had been brought up in
+the country and had seen nothing of life.
+
+SIR T.: And so I _have_ been, my dear Lady Eaveston. To my mind,
+London is nothing but the country, and certainly Stropshire is nothing
+but a metropolis. The difference is, that when one is in town, one
+lives with others, and when one is in the country, others live with
+one. And both plans are abominable.
+
+MRS. W.: What a horrid combination! I hate horrid combinations; they
+always turn out to be so extremely pleasant.
+
+(_Enter Meadows_)
+
+MEADOWS (_announcing_): Sir Roland Pinshamton; Viscount Lemingham;
+Countess Trotski and Mr. Peters. In announcing these parties I cannot
+refrain from remarking that it has always been my opinion that a man
+who intends to get married should either know something or nothing,
+preferably both.
+
+(_Exit Meadows_)
+
+COUNTESS T.: So sorry to be late, my dear Lady Eaveston. It was
+charmingly tolerant of you to have us.
+
+LADY E.: Invitations are never tolerant, my dear Countess; acceptances
+always are. But do tell me, how is your husband, the Count,--or
+perhaps he is no longer your husband. One never knows these days
+whether a man is his wife's husband or whether she is simply his wife.
+
+COUNTESS T. (_lighting a cigarette_): Really, Lady Eaveston, you grow
+more and more interesting. I detest interesting people; they are so
+hopelessly uninteresting. It is like beautiful people--who are usually
+so singularly unbeautiful. Has not that been your experience, Sir
+Mortimer?
+
+SIR M.: May I have the pleasure of escorting you to the music-room,
+Mrs. Wrennington?
+
+(_Exeunt omnes to music-room for dinner_)
+
+Curtain.
+
+
+It is from this that we have, in a measure, been delivered by the
+court-room scenes, and all the medical dramas. But the paradox still
+remains intrenched in English writing behind Mr. G.K. Chesterton, and
+he may be considered, by literary tacticians, as considerable
+stronghold.
+
+Here again we find our commonplaces shaken up until they emerge in
+what looks like a new and tremendously imposing shape, and all of them
+ostensibly proving the opposite of what we have always understood. If
+we do not quite catch the precise meaning at first reading, we lay it
+to our imperfect perception and try to do better on the next one. It
+seldom occurs to us that it really may have no meaning at all and
+never was intended to have any, any more than the act of hanging by
+your feet from parallel bars has any further significance than that
+you can manage to do it.
+
+So, before retiring to the privacy of our personal couches, let us
+thank an all wise Providence, that the drama-paradox has passed away.
+
+
+
+
+XVIII
+
+SHAKESPEARE EXPLAINED
+
+_Carrying on the System of Footnotes to a Silly Extreme_
+
+
+PERICLES
+
+ACT II. SCENE 3
+
+_Enter first Lady-in-Waiting_ (_Flourish_,^1 _Hautboys_^2 _and_^3
+_torches_^4).
+
+_First Lady-in-Waiting_--What^5 ho!^6 Where^7 is^8 the^9 music?^10
+
+
+NOTES
+
+1. _Flourish_: The stage direction here is obscure. Clarke claims it
+should read "flarish," thus changing the meaning of the passage to
+"flarish" (that is, the King's), but most authorities have agreed that
+it should remain "flourish," supplying the predicate which is to be
+flourished. There was at this time a custom in the countryside of
+England to flourish a mop as a signal to the passing vender of
+berries, signifying that in that particular household there was a
+consumer-demand for berries, and this may have been meant in this
+instance. That Shakespeare was cognizant of this custom of flourishing
+the mop for berries is shown in a similar passage in the second part
+of King Henry IV, where he has the Third Page enter and say,
+"Flourish." Cf. also Hamlet, IV, 7:4.
+
+[Illustration: "Might be one of the hautboys bearing a box of
+"trognies" for the actors to suck."]
+
+2. _Hautboys_, from the French _haut_, meaning "high" and the Eng.
+_boys_, meaning "boys." The word here is doubtless used in the sense
+of "high boys," indicating either that Shakespeare intended to convey
+the idea of spiritual distress on the part of the First
+Lady-in-Waiting or that he did not. Of this Rolfe says: "Here we have
+one of the chief indications of Shakespeare's knowledge of human
+nature, his remarkable insight into the petty foibles of this
+work-a-day world." Cf. T.N. 4:6, "Mine eye hath play'd the painter,
+and hath stell'd thy beauty's form in table of my heart."
+
+3. _and_. A favorite conjunctive of Shakespeare's in referring to the
+need for a more adequate navy for England. Tauchnitz claims that it
+should be pronounced "und," stressing the anti-penult. This
+interpretation, however, has found disfavor among most commentators
+because of its limited significance. We find the same conjunctive in
+A.W.T.E.W. 6:7, "Steel-boned, unyielding _and_ uncomplying virtue,"
+and here there can be no doubt that Shakespeare meant that if the King
+should consent to the marriage of his daughter the excuse of Stephano,
+offered in Act 2, would carry no weight.
+
+4. _Torches_. The interpolation of some foolish player and never the
+work of Shakespeare (Warb.). The critics of the last century have
+disputed whether or not this has been misspelled in the original, and
+should read "trochies" or "troches." This might well be since the
+introduction of tobacco into England at this time had wrought havoc
+with the speaking voices of the players, and we might well imagine
+that at the entrance of the First Lady-in-Waiting there might be
+perhaps one of the hautboys mentioned in the preceding passage bearing
+a box of troches or "trognies" for the actors to suck. Of this
+entrance Clarke remarks: "The noble mixture of spirited firmness and
+womanly modesty, fine sense and true humility, clear sagacity and
+absence of conceit, passionate warmth and sensitive delicacy, generous
+love and self-diffidence with which Shakespeare has endowed this First
+Lady-in-Waiting renders her in our eyes one of the most admirable of
+his female characters." Cf. M.S.N.D. 8:9, "That solder'st close
+impossibilities and mak'st them kiss."
+
+5. _What_--What.
+
+6._Ho!_. In conjunction with the preceding word doubtless means "What
+ho!" changed by Clarke to "What hoo!" In the original MS. it reads
+"What hi!" but this has been accredited to the tendency of the time to
+write "What hi" when "what ho" was meant. Techner alone maintains that
+it should read "What humpf!" Cf. Ham. 5:0, "High-ho!"
+
+7. _Where_. The reading of the folio, retained by Johnson, the
+Cambridge editors and others, but it is not impossible that
+Shakespeare wrote "why," as Pope and others give it. This would make
+the passage read "Why the music?" instead of "Where is the music?"
+and would be a much more probable interpretation in view of the music
+of that time. Cf. George Ade. Fable No. 15, "Why the gunny-sack?"
+
+8. _is_--is not. That is, would not be.
+
+9. _the_. Cf. Ham.4:6. M.S.N.D. 3:5. A.W.T.E.W. 2:6. T.N. 1:3 and
+Macbeth 3:1, "that knits up _the_ raveled sleeves of care."
+
+10. _music_. Explained by Malone as "the art of making music" or
+"music that is made." If it has but one of these meanings we are
+inclined to think it is the first; and this seems to be favored by
+what precedes, "_the_ music!" Cf. M. of V. 4:2, "The man that hath no
+music in himself."
+
+The meaning of the whole passage seems to be that the First
+Lady-in-Waiting has entered, concomitant with a flourish, hautboys and
+torches and says, "What ho! Where is the music?"
+
+
+
+
+XIX
+
+THE SCIENTIFIC SCENARIO
+
+
+Sooner or later some one is going to come out and say that the movies
+are too low-brow. I can just see it coming. Maybe some one has said it
+already, without its having been brought to my attention, as I have
+been very busy for the past two weeks on my yearly accounts (my
+accounts for the year 1920, I mean. What with one thing and another, I
+am a bit behind in my budget system).
+
+And whenever this denouncement of the movies takes place, the first
+thing that is going to be specifically criticized is the type of story
+which is now utilized for scenarios. How can a nation hope to inject
+any culture in the minds of its people if it feeds them with
+moving-picture stories dealing with elemental emotions like love,
+hate, and a passion for evening-dress? Scenarios to-day have no
+cultural background. That's the trouble with them. They have no
+cultural background.
+
+Now, if we are to make the movies count for anything in the mental
+development of our people, we must build them of sterner stuff. We
+must make them from stories and books which are of the mind rather
+than of the body. The action should be cerebral, rather than physical,
+and instead of thrilling at the sight of two horsemen galloping along
+a cliff, we should be given the opportunity of seeing two opposing
+minds doing a rough-and-tumble on the edge of a nice problem in
+Dialectics or Metaphysics.
+
+I would suggest as a book, from which a pretty little scenario might
+be made, "The Education of Henry Adams." This volume has had a
+remarkable success during the past year among the highly educated
+classes. Public library records show that more people have lied about
+having read it than any other book in a decade. It contains five
+hundred pages of mental masochism, in which the author tortures
+himself for not getting anywhere in his brain processes. He just
+simply can't seem to get any further than the evolution of an
+elementary Dynamic Theory of History or a dilettante dabbling with a
+Law of Acceleration. And he came of a bright family, too.
+
+I don't go in much for scenario writing myself, but I am willing to
+help along the cause of better moving-pictures by offering herewith an
+outline for a six-reel feature entitled "THE EDUCATION OF HENRY ADAMS;
+or WHY MINDS GO WRONG."
+
+
+_CAST OF CHARACTERS_
+
+_Henry Adams._
+
+_Left Frontal Brain Lobe._
+
+_Right Frontal Brain Lobe._
+
+_Manservant._
+
+_Crowd of Villagers, Reflexes, Complexes, and Mental Processes._
+
+
+The first scene is, according to the decorated caption: "IN THE
+HARVARD COLLEGE STUDY OF HENRY ADAMS, SCION OF AN OLD NEW ENGLAND
+FAMILY, THE NIGHT BEFORE THE BIG CEREBRAL FUNCTION OF HIS YOUNG
+MANHOOD."
+
+Henry Adams, a Junior, is discovered sitting at his desk in his room
+in Holworthy Hall. He has a notebook on the Glacial Period and
+Palæontology open in front of him. He is thinking of his Education.
+(_Flash-back showing courses taken since Freshman year. Pianist plays
+"Carry Me Back to Old Virginie."_) He bites his under lip and turns a
+page of his notes.
+
+Caption: "DOES TRANSCENDENTALISM HOLD THE KEY?... I WONDER...."
+
+(_Fade-out showing him biting his upper lip, still thinking_.)
+
+The second scene is laid in Rome.
+
+Caption: "HERE, AFTER A YEAR'S WANDERING THROUGH THE HAPPY, SMILING
+LANDS OF EUROPE, COMES YOUNG HENRY ADAMS IN HIS SEARCH FOR EDUCATION.
+AND NOW, IN THE SHADOW OF ANCIENT ROME, HE FINDS PEACE, BUT NOT THAT
+PEACE FOR WHICH HE SOUGHT."
+
+[Illustration: "Thrilling moment in 'The Education of Henry Adams.'"]
+
+He is discovered sitting on a rock among the ruins of the Capitol,
+thinking. He tosses a pebble from one hand to another and scowls. The
+shadows deepen, and he rises, passing his hand across his brow.
+(_Flash-back showing the Latin verbs which govern the dative case.
+Pianist plays: "The March of the Jolly Grenadiers."_)
+
+He walks slowly to the _Museo Nazionale_, where he stands pondering
+before a statue of Venus, thinking about Roman art and history--and
+about his Education.
+
+Caption: "CAN ALL THIS BE FITTED INTO A TIME-SEQUENCE? CAN RIENZI,
+GARIBALDI. TIBERIUS GRACCHUS, AURELIAN, ANY OF THESE FAMOUS NAMES OF
+ROME, BE ADAPTED TO A SYSTEMATIC SCHEME OF EVOLUTION? NO, NO ... A
+THOUSAND TIMES, NO!"
+
+He sinks down on a rock and weeps bitterly.
+
+The next scene is in England and our hero is found sitting at a desk
+in his study in London. He is gazing into space--thinking.
+
+Caption: "AND SO, ALL THROUGH THE LONG, WEARY SUMMER, HENRY ADAMS SAT,
+HEAD IN HAND, WONDERING IF DARWIN WAS RIGHT. TO HIM THE GLACIAL EPOCH
+SEEMED LIKE A YAWNING CHASM BETWEEN A UNIFORMITARIAN WORLD AND
+HIMSELF. IF THE GLACIAL PERIOD WERE UNIFORMITY, WHAT WAS
+CATASTROPHE?... AND TO THIS QUESTION, THE COOL OF THE SUMMER'S EVENING
+IN SHROPSHIRE BROUGHT NO RELIEF."
+
+He rises slowly and goes to the book-shelves, from which he draws a
+copy of "The Origin of Species." Placing it before him on the desk he
+turns the pages slowly until he comes to one which holds his
+attention.
+
+_Close-up of page 126, on which is read_: "It is notorious that
+specific characters are more variable than generic....
+
+                                       _Feet_
+
+    Palæzoic strata (not including     57,154
+      igneous beds)
+    Secondary strata                   13,190
+
+    Tertiary strata                     2,400"
+
+
+The book drops to the floor from his nerveless fingers and he buries
+his head in his arms, sobbing. (Music: _"When You and I Were Young,
+Maggie."_)
+
+"TWENTY YEARS AFTER ... HENRY ADAMS IS NO LONGER YOUNG, BUT IN HIS
+HEART LIES STILL THE HUNGER FOR EDUCATION. GOING FORWARD, EVER
+FORWARD, HE REALIZES AS NEVER BEFORE THAT WITHOUT THOUGHT IN THE UNIT,
+THERE CAN BE NO UNITY. THOUGHT ALONE IS FORM. MIND AND UNITY FLOURISH
+OR PERISH TOGETHER."
+
+(_Allegorical flash-back showing Mind and Unity perishing together._)
+
+The hero is now seen seated in a Morris chair in Washington, touching
+his finger-tips together in a ruminative manner. Arising slowly, he
+goes to the window and looks out over Lafayette Square. Then he lights
+a cigar and goes back to his chair. He is pondering and attempting to
+determine when, between 3000 B.C. and 1000 A.D. the momentum of Europe
+was greatest, as exemplified in mathematics by such masters as
+Archimedes, Aristarchus, Ptolemy and Euclid.
+
+(_Flash-back showing the mathematical theories of Archimedes,
+Aristarchus, Ptolemy and Euclid. Music: "Old Ireland Shall Be Free."_)
+
+Rising from his chair again, he paces the floor, clenching his hands
+behind his back in mute fury.
+
+Caption: "GOD HAVE MERCY ON ME! I CAN SEE IT ALL--I HAVE NEVER BEEN
+EDUCATED!"
+
+        NEXT WEEK: BERT LYTELL IN
+            "SARTOR RESARTUS"
+        A SMASHING SIX-REEL FEATURE
+              BY TOM CARLYLE
+
+
+
+
+XX
+
+THE MOST POPULAR BOOK OF THE MONTH
+
+NEW YORK CITY (including all Boroughs) TELEPHONE DIRECTORY--N.Y.
+Telephone Co., N.Y. 1920. 8vo. 1208 pp.
+
+
+In picking up this new edition of a popular favorite, the reviewer
+finds himself confronted by a nice problem in literary ethics. The
+reader must guess what it is.
+
+There may be said to be two classes of people in the world; those who
+constantly divide the people of the world into two classes, and those
+who do not. Both classes are extremely unpleasant to meet socially,
+leaving practically no one in the world whom one cares very much to
+know. This feeling is made poignant, to the point of becoming an
+obsession, by a careful reading of the present volume.
+
+We are herein presented to some five hundred thousand characters, each
+one deftly drawn in a line or two of agate type, each one standing out
+from the rest in bold relief. It is hard to tell which one is the most
+lovable. In one mood we should say _W.S. Custard_ of Minnieford Ave.
+In another, more susceptible frame of mind, we should stand by the
+character who opens the book and who first introduces us into this
+Kingdom of Make-Believe--_Mr. V. Aagaard_, the old "Impt. & Expt." How
+one seems to see him, impting and expting all the hot summer day
+through, year in and year out, always heading the list, but always
+modest and unassuming, always with a kindly word and a smile for
+passers-by on Broadway!
+
+[Illustration: "The most popular book on earth."]
+
+It is perhaps inaccurate to say that _V. Aagaard_ introduces us to the
+book. He is the first flesh-and-blood human being with whom the reader
+comes in contact, but the initial place in the line should
+technically go to the A. & A.A. Excelsior Co. Having given credit
+where credit is due, however, let us express our personal opinion that
+this name is a mere trick, designed to crowd out all other competitors
+in the field for the honor of being in the premiere position, for it
+must be obvious to any one with any perception at all that the name
+doesn't make sense. _No_ firm could be named the A. & A.A. Co., and
+the author of the telephone directory might better have saved his
+jokes until the body of the book. After all, Gelett Burgess does that
+sort of thing much better than any one else could hope to.
+
+But, beginning with _V. Aagaard_ and continuing through to _Mrs. L.
+Zyfers_ of Yettman Ave., the reader is constantly aware of the fact
+that here are real people, living in a real city, and that they
+represent a problem which must be faced.
+
+Sharp as we find the character etching in the book, the action,
+written and implied, is even more remarkable. Let us, for instance,
+take _Mr. Saml Dreyslinger_, whose business is "Furn Reprg," or _Peter
+Shalijian_, who does "pmphlt bindg." Into whose experience do these
+descriptions not fit? The author need only mention a man bindg pmphlts
+to bring back a flood of memories to each and every one of us--perhaps
+our old home town in New England where bindg pmphlts was almost a
+rite during the long winter months, as well as a social function of no
+mean proportions. It is the ability to suggest, to insinuate, these
+automatic memories on the part of the reader without the use of extra
+words that makes the author of this work so worthy of the name of
+craftsman in the literary annals of the day.
+
+Perhaps most deft of all is the little picture that is made of _Louise
+Winkler_, who is the village "sclp spclst." One does not have to know
+much medieval history to remember the position that the sclp spclst
+used to hold in the community during the Wars of the Roses. Or during
+Shay's Rebellion, for that matter. In those days, to be a sclp spclst
+was as important a post as that of "clb bdg stbls" (now done for New
+York City by Mr. Graham). People came from miles around to consult
+with the local sclp spclst on matters pertaining not only to sclps but
+to knt gds and wr whls, both of which departments of our daily life
+have now been delegated to separate agencies. Then gradually, with the
+growth of the trade guild movement, there came the Era of
+Specialization in Industry, and the high offices of the sclp spclst
+were dissipated among other trades, until only that coming strictly
+under the head of sclp speclzng remained. To this estate has _Miss
+Winkler_ come, and in that part of the book which deals with her and
+her work, we have, as it were, a little epic on the mutability of
+human endeavor. It is all too short, however, and we are soon
+thereafter plunged into the dreary round of expting and impting, this
+time through a character called _J. Wubbe_, who is interesting only in
+so far as he is associated with _M. Wrubel_ and _A.N. Wubbenhorst_,
+all of whom come together at the bottom of the column.
+
+The plot, in spite of whatever virtues may accrue to it from the acid
+delineation of the characters and the vivid action pictures, is the
+weakest part of the work. It lacks coherence. It lacks stability.
+
+Perhaps this is because of the nature of the book itself. Perhaps it
+is because the author knew too well his Dunsany. Or his Wells. Or his
+Bradstreet. But it is the opinion of the present reviewer that the
+weakness of plot is due to the great number of characters which
+clutter up the pages. The Russian school is responsible for this. We
+see here the logical result of a sedulous aping of those writers such
+as Tolstoi, Andreief, Turgenief, Dostoiefsky, or even Pushkin, whose
+_metier_ it was to fill the pages of their books with an inordinate
+number of characters, many of whom the reader was to encounter but
+once, let us say, on the Nevsky Prospekt or in the Smolny Institute,
+but all of whom added their peculiar names (we believe that we will
+not offend when we refer to Russian names as "peculiar") to the
+general confusion of the whole.
+
+In practice, the book is not flawless. There are five hundred thousand
+names, each with a corresponding telephone number. But, through some
+error in editing, the numbers are all wrong. Proof of this may be had
+by the simple expedient of calling up any one of the subscribers,
+using the number assigned by the author to that name. (Any name will
+do--let us say _Nicholas Wimpie_-Haxlem 2131.) If the call is put in
+bright and early in the morning, the report will come over the wire
+just as the lights are going on for evening of the same day that
+"Harlem 2131 does not answer." The other numbers are invariably
+equally unproductive of results. The conclusion is obvious.
+
+Aside from this point the book is a success.
+
+
+
+
+XXI
+
+CHRISTMAS AFTERNOON
+
+_Done in the Manner, if Not the Spirit, of Dickens_
+
+
+What an afternoon! Mr. Gummidge said that, in his estimation, there
+never had _been_ such an afternoon since the world began, a sentiment
+which was heartily endorsed by Mrs. Gummidge and all the little
+Gummidges, not to mention the relatives who had come over from Jersey
+for the day.
+
+In the first place, there was the _ennui_. And such _ennui_ as it was!
+A heavy, overpowering _ennui_, such as results from a participation in
+eight courses of steaming, gravied food, topping off with salted nuts
+which the little old spinster Gummidge from Oak Hill said she never
+knew when to stop eating--and true enough she didn't--a dragging,
+devitalizing _ennui_, which left its victims strewn about the
+living-room in various attitudes of prostration suggestive of those of
+the petrified occupants in a newly unearthed Pompeiian dwelling; an
+_ennui_ which carried with it a retinue of yawns, snarls and thinly
+veiled insults, and which ended in ruptures in the clan spirit serious
+enough to last throughout the glad new year.
+
+[Illustration: "What an afternoon!"]
+
+Then there were the toys! Three and a quarter dozen toys to be divided
+among seven children. Surely enough, you or I might say, to satisfy
+the little tots. But that would be because we didn't know the tots. In
+came Baby Lester Gummidge, Lillian's boy, dragging an electric
+grain-elevator which happened to be the only toy in the entire
+collection which appealed to little Norman, five-year-old son of
+Luther, who lived in Rahway. In came curly-headed Effie in frantic and
+throaty disputation with Arthur, Jr., over the possession of an
+articulated zebra. In came Everett, bearing a mechanical negro which
+would no longer dance, owing to a previous forcible feeding by the
+baby of a marshmallow into its only available aperture. In came
+Fonlansbee, teeth buried in the hand of little Ormond, which bore a
+popular but battered remnant of what had once been the proud
+false-bosom of a hussar's uniform. In they all came, one after
+another, some crying, some snapping, some pulling, some pushing--all
+appealing to their respective parents for aid in their intra-mural
+warfare.
+
+And the cigar smoke! Mrs. Gummidge said that she didn't mind the smoke
+from a good cigarette, but would they mind if she opened the windows
+for just a minute in order to clear the room of the heavy aroma of
+used cigars? Mr. Gummidge stoutly maintained that they were good
+cigars. His brother, George Gummidge, said that he, likewise, would
+say that they were. At which colloquial sally both the Gummidge
+brothers laughed testily, thereby breaking the laughter record for the
+afternoon.
+
+Aunt Libbie, who lived with George, remarked from the dark corner of
+the room that it seemed just like Sunday to her. An amendment was
+offered to this statement by the cousin, who was in the insurance
+business, stating that it was worse than Sunday. Murmurings indicative
+of as hearty agreement with this sentiment as their lethargy would
+allow came from the other members of the family circle, causing Mr.
+Gummidge to suggest a walk in the air to settle their dinner.
+
+And then arose such a chorus of protestations as has seldom been
+heard. It was too cloudy to walk. It was too raw. It looked like snow.
+It looked like rain. Luther Gummidge said that he must be starting
+along home soon, anyway, bringing forth the acid query from Mrs.
+Gummidge as to whether or not he was bored. Lillian said that she felt
+a cold coming on, and added that something they had had for dinner
+must have been undercooked. And so it went, back and forth, forth and
+back, up and down, and in and out, until Mr. Gummidge's suggestion of
+a walk in the air was reduced to a tattered impossibility and the
+entire company glowed with ill-feeling.
+
+In the meantime, we must not forget the children. No one else could.
+Aunt Libbie said that she didn't think there was anything like
+children to make a Christmas; to which Uncle Ray, the one with the
+Masonic fob, said, "No, thank God!" Although Christmas is supposed to
+be the season of good cheer, you (or I, for that matter) couldn't have
+told, from listening to the little ones, but what it was the
+children's Armageddon season, when Nature had decreed that only the
+fittest should survive, in order that the race might be carried on by
+the strongest, the most predatory and those posessing the best
+protective coloring. Although there were constant admonitions to
+Fonlansbee to "Let Ormond have that whistle now; it's his," and to
+Arthur, Jr., not to be selfish, but to "give the kiddie-car to Effie;
+she's smaller than you are," the net result was always that Fonlansbee
+kept the whistle and Arthur, Jr., rode in permanent, albeit disputed,
+possession of the kiddie-car. Oh, that we mortals should set ourselves
+up against the inscrutable workings of Nature!
+
+[Illustration: "Hallo! A great deal of commotion!"]
+
+Hallo! A great deal of commotion! That was Uncle George stumbling over
+the electric train, which had early in the afternoon ceased to
+function and which had been left directly across the threshold. A
+great deal of crying! That was Arthur, Jr., bewailing the destruction
+of his already useless train, about which he had forgotten until the
+present moment. A great deal of recrimination! That was Arthur, Sr.,
+and George fixing it up. And finally a great crashing! That was Baby
+Lester pulling over the tree on top of himself, necessitating the
+bringing to bear of all of Uncle Ray's knowledge of forestry to
+extricate him from the wreckage.
+
+And finally Mrs. Gummidge passed the Christmas candy around. Mr.
+Gummidge afterward admitted that this was a tactical error on the part
+of his spouse. I no more believe that Mrs. Gummidge thought they
+wanted that Christmas candy than I believe that she thought they
+wanted the cold turkey which she later suggested. My opinion is that
+she wanted to drive them home. At any rate, that is what she succeeded
+in doing. Such cries as there were of "Ugh! Don't let me see another
+thing to eat!" and "Take it away!" Then came hurried scramblings in
+the coat-closet for over-shoes. There were the rasping sounds made by
+cross parents when putting wraps on children. There were insincere
+exhortations to "come and see us soon" and to "get together for lunch
+some time." And, finally, there were slammings of doors and the
+silence of utter exhaustion, while Mrs. Gummidge went about picking up
+stray sheets of wrapping paper.
+
+And, as Tiny Tim might say in speaking of Christmas afternoon as an
+institution, "God help us, every one."
+
+
+
+
+XXII
+
+HAIL, VERNAL EQUINOX!
+
+
+If all that I hear is true, a great deal has been written, first and
+last, about that season which we slangily call "Spring"; but I don't
+remember ever having seen it done in really first-class form;--that
+is, in such a way that it left something with you to think over,
+something that you could put your finger on and say, "There, _there_
+is a Big, Vital Thought that I can carry away with me to my room."
+
+What Spring really needs is a regular press-agent sort of write-up,
+something with the Punch in it, an article that will make people sit
+up and say to themselves, "By George, there must be something in this
+Spring stuff, after all."
+
+What sort of popularity did Education have until correspondence
+schools and encyclopedias began to give publicity to it in their
+advertisements? Where would Music be to-day if it were not for the
+exhortations of the talking-machine and mechanical-piano companies
+telling, through their advertising-copy writers, of the spiritual
+exaltation that comes from a love of music? These things were all
+right in their way before the press-agent took hold of them, but they
+never could have hoped to reach their present position without him.
+
+Of course, all this has just been leading up to the point I want to
+make,--that something more ought to be written about Spring. When you
+consider that every one, including myself, agrees that _nothing_ more
+should be written about it, I think that I have done rather well to
+prove as much as I have so far. And, having got this deep into the
+thing, I can't very well draw back now.
+
+Well then, Spring is a great season. Nobody will gainsay me that.
+Without it, we should crash right from Winter into Summer with no
+chance to shift to light-weight underwear. I could write a whole piece
+about that phase of it alone, and, if I were pressed for things to
+say, I myself could enlarge on it now, making up imaginary
+conversation of people who have been caught in balbriggans by the
+first sweltering day of summer. But I have so many more things to say
+about Spring that I can't stop to bother with deadwood like that. Such
+literary fillerbusting should be left to those who are not so full of
+their subject as I am.
+
+In preparing for this article, I thought it best to look up a little
+on the technical side of Spring, about which so little is known, at
+least by me. And, would you believe it, the Encyclopedia Britannica,
+which claims in its advertisements not only to make its readers
+presidents of the Boards of Directors of any companies they may
+select, but also shows how easy it would be for Grandpa or Little Edna
+to carry the whole set about from room to room, if, by any possible
+chance they should ever want to, this same Encyclopedia Britannica
+makes no reference to Spring, except incidentally, along with Bed
+Springs and Bubbling Springs.
+
+This slight of one of our most popular seasons is probably due to the
+fact that Spring is not exclusively a British product and was not
+invented by a Briton. Had Spring been fortunate enough to have had the
+Second Earl of Stropshire-Stropshire-Stropshire as one of its
+founders, the Britannica could probably have seen its way clear to
+give it a five-page article, signed by the Curator of the Jade
+Department in the British Museum, and illustrated with colored plates,
+showing the effect of Spring on the vertical and transverse sections
+of the stamen of the South African Euphorbiceæ.
+
+I was what you might, but probably wouldn't, call stunned at not
+finding anything about the Season of Love in the encyclopedia, for
+without that assistance what sort of a scientific article could I do
+on the subject? I am not good at improvising as I go along, especially
+in astronomical matters. But we Americans are not so easily thwarted.
+Quick as a wink I looked up "Equinox."
+
+There is a renewed agitation of late to abolish Latin from our
+curricula. Had I not known my Latin I never could have figured out
+what "equinox" meant, and this article would never have been written.
+Take that, Mr. Flexner!
+
+While finding "equinox," however, I came across the word
+"equilibrium," which is the word before you come to "equinox," and I
+became quite absorbed in what it had to say on the matter. There were
+a great many things stated there that I had never dreamed before, even
+in my wildest vagaries on the subject of equilibrium. For instance,
+did you know that if you cover the head of a bird, "as in hooding a
+falcon" (do you remember the good old days when you used to run away
+from school to hood falcons?) the bird is deprived of the power of
+voluntary movement? Just think of that, deprived of the power of
+voluntary movement simply because its head is covered!
+
+And, as if this were not enough, it says that the same thing holds
+true of a fish! If you should ever, on account of a personal grudge,
+want to get the better of a fish, just sneak up to him on some
+pretext or other and suddenly cover its eyes with a cloth, and there
+you have it, helpless and unable to move. You may then insult it, and
+it can do nothing but tremble with rage.
+
+It is little practical things like this that you pick up in reading a
+good reference book, things that you would never get in ten years at
+college.
+
+For instance, take the word "equites," which follows "equinox" in the
+encyclopedia. What do you know about equites, Mr. Businessman? Of
+course, you remember in a vague way that they were Roman horsemen or
+something, but, in the broader sense of the word, could you have told
+that the term "equites" came, in the time of Gaius Gracchus, to mean
+any one who had four hundred thousand sesterces? No, I thought not.
+And yet that is a point which is apt to come up any day at the office.
+A customer from St. Paul might come in and, of course, you would take
+him out to lunch, hoping to land a big order. Where would you be if
+his hobby should happen to be "equites "? And if he should come out in
+the middle of the conversation with "By the way, do you remember how
+many sesterces it was necessary to have during the administration of
+Gaius Gracchus in order to belong to the Equites?" if you could snap
+right back at him with "Four hundred thousand, I believe," the order
+would be assured. And if, in addition, you could volunteer the
+information that an excellent account of the family life of the
+Equites could be found in Mommsen's "_Römisches Staatsrecht_," Vol. 3,
+your customer would probably not only sign up for a ten-year contract,
+but would insist on paying for the lunch.
+
+[Illustration: "If you could snap right back at him with 'Four hundred
+thousand, I believe,' the order would be assured."]
+
+But, of course, this has practically nothing to do with Spring, or, as
+the boys call it, the "vernal equinox." The vernal equinox is a
+serious matter. In fact, I think I may say without violating any
+confidence, that it is the initial point from which the right
+ascensions and the longitudes of the heavenly bodies are measured.
+This statement will probably bring down a storm of ridicule on my
+head, but look at how Fulton was ridiculed.
+
+In fact, I might go even further and say that the way to seek out
+Spring is not to trail along with the poets and essayists into the
+woods and fields and stand about in the mud until a half-clothed bird
+comes out and peeps. If you really want to be in on the official
+advent of Spring, you may sit in a nice warm observatory and, entirely
+free from head-colds, proceed with the following simple course:
+
+Take first the conception of a fictitious point which we shall call,
+for fun, the Mean Equinox. This Mean Equinox moves at a nearly uniform
+rate, slowly varying from century to century.
+
+Now here comes the trick of the thing. The Mean Equinox is merely a
+decoy, and, once you have determined it, you shift suddenly to the
+True Equinox which you can tell, according to Professor A.M. Clerk's
+treatise on the subject, because it moves around the Mean Equinox in a
+period equal to that of the moon's nodes. Now all you have to do is to
+find out what the moon's nodes are (isn't it funny that you can be as
+familiar with an object as you are with the moon and see it almost
+every night, and yet never know that it has even one node, not to
+mention nodes?) and then find out how fast they move. This done and
+you have discovered the Vernal Equinox, or Spring, and without
+spilling a dactyl.
+
+[Illustration: "On the subject of spring's arrival intuition may be
+led astray."]
+
+How much simpler this is than the old, romantic way of determining
+when Spring had come! A poet has to depend on his intuition for
+information, and, on the subject of Spring's arrival, intuition may be
+led astray by any number of things. You may be sitting over one of
+those radiators which are concealed under window-seats, for instance,
+and before you are aware of it feel what you take to be the first
+flush of Spring creeping over you. It would be obviously premature to
+go out and write a poem on Youth and Love and Young Onions on the
+strength of that.
+
+I once heard of a young man who in November discovered that he had an
+intellectual attachment for a certain young woman and felt that
+married life with her would be without doubt a success. But he could
+never work himself up into sufficient emotional enthusiasm to present
+the proposition to her in phrases that he knew she had been accustomed
+to receive from other suitors. He knew that she wouldn't respond to a
+proposal of marriage couched in terms of a real estate transaction.
+Yet such were the only ones that he felt himself capable of at the
+moment under the prevailing weather conditions. So, knowing something
+of biology, he packed his little bag and rented an alcove in a nearby
+green-house, where he basked in the intensified sun-warmth and odor of
+young tube roses, until with a cry, he smashed the glass which
+separated him from his heart's desire and tore around the corner to
+her house, dashing in the back door and flinging himself at her feet
+as she was whipping some cream, and there poured forth such a torrent
+of ardent sentiments that there was really nothing that the poor girl
+could do but marry him that afternoon.
+
+[Illustration: "Spring."]
+
+In fact, if you want to speak astronomically (some people do), you may
+define Spring even more definitely. Since we are all here together,
+and good friends, let us take the center of the earth as origin, and,
+once we have done this, the most natural fundamental axis is,
+obviously, the earth's rotation. The fundamental plane perpendicular
+to it is the plane of the equator. That goes without saying.
+
+Now, here we go! Coördinates referred to in this system are termed
+equatorial, and I think that you will agree with me that nothing could
+be fairer than that. Very well, then. Since this is so, we may define
+Spring by the following geometric representation in which the angle
+ZOP, made by the radius vector with the fundamental plane, shows a
+springlike tendency.
+
+This drawing we may truthfully entitle "Spring," and while it hasn't
+perhaps the color found in Botticelli's painting of the same name, yet
+it just as truthfully represents Spring in these parts as do the
+unstable sort of ladies in the more famous picture.
+
+I only wish that I had more space in which to tell what my heart is
+full of in connection with this subject. I really have only just
+begun.
+
+
+
+
+TABLOID EDITIONS
+
+
+
+
+THE AMERICAN MAGAZINE
+
+
+What I Have Made Myself Learn About You
+
+Being An Account of How One Business Man Made the
+       Little Things Count. Do You?
+
+
+My business (rubber goods) was in a bad way. Somehow I couldn't seem
+to make it return enough to pay my income tax with. My wife and I were
+frankly upset.
+
+At last one morning she came to me and said: "Fred, the baby will soon
+be seven months old and will have to have some sort of vocational
+training. What are we to do?"
+
+That night was the bluest night I have ever spent. I thought that the
+end had come. Then, suddenly, the thought struck me: "Why not try
+character-selling?"
+
+This may sound foolish to you. That is because it is foolish. But it
+did the trick.
+
+I began to sell my personality. Every man that came into my store I
+took aside and showed him different moods. First, I would tell him a
+funny story, to prove to him that I was more than a mere business
+automaton. Then I would relate a pathetic incident I had seen on the
+street a week or two ago. This disclosed my heart. Then I did a
+fragment of a bare-foot dance and sketched a caricature of Lloyd
+George, to let him see that I was a man of the world. After this, I
+was ready to sell him what he came in for, and he would go away
+carrying a very definite impression of my personal
+characteristics--and some of my goods, in a bundle.
+
+A week of selling rubber-goods in this manner, and I was on the
+vaudeville stage, earning $250 a week. How much do _you_ earn?
+
+
+Interesting People
+
+A Man Who Made Good With Newts
+
+
+Some day, if you ever happen to be in Little Falls, turn to your right
+and you will see a prosperous-looking establishment run by Ira S.
+Whip, known throughout Little Falls as the newt king. Starting in with
+practically nothing but two congenial newts, Mr. Whip has, in the past
+ten years, raised no less than 4,000 of these little lizard-like
+animals, all of which had to be thrown away, as there is practically
+no market for pet newts except for incidental rôles in gold-fish
+tanks. But Mr. Whip did what he set out to do, and that counts for a
+lot in this life. Can you say as much?
+
+
+The Man Who Made Good
+
+The story of a man who made good
+
+
+Lorrie Wetmore sat disconsolately in the fountain in Madison Square
+Park. He was lonely. He was a failure.... Yes, he was. Don't
+contradict me. He was a terrible failure. And, as I said before, early
+in this story, he was lonely.
+
+"I have fallen down on the job," he murmured to Admiral Farragut's
+statue. "I have not made good."
+
+Suddenly a kind hand rested on his shoulder. He turned to face the
+pansy-trainer, who keeps the flower-beds in the Park in touch with the
+seasons.
+
+"Don't give in, my boy," said the old man. "Remember the words of
+Henley, who instituted the famous Henley Regatta and so made a name
+for himself: 'I am the master of my Fate. I am the Captain of my
+Soul.'"
+
+"By George," murmured Lorrie to the statue of Salmon P. Chase, "I
+_can_ make good, and I _will_ make good!"
+
+And, with these words, he climbed out of the fountain and made his way
+resolutely across the square to the great store of Marshall Field and
+Co. (Advt.)
+
+In seven weeks he was a member of the firm.
+
+
+Are You Between the Ages of 7 and 94?
+
+If so, what this eminent growth specialist says here applies
+       directly to you and to your family
+
+
+Every man, woman and child between the ages of 7 and 94 is going
+through a process of growth or metamorphosis, whether they know it or
+not. Are you making the most of this opportunity which is coming to
+you (if your age falls within the magic circle given above) every day
+of your life? Do you realize that, during this crucial period, you
+have it in your power to make what you will of yourself, provided only
+that you know how to go about it and make no false steps?
+
+As you grow from day to day, either mentally, morally, or physically,
+you can say to yourself, on awakening in the morning:
+
+"To-day I will develop. I will grow bigger, either mentally, morally
+or physically. Maybe, if it is a nice, warm day, I will grow in all
+three ways at once."
+
+And, sure enough, when evening finds you returning home from the work
+of the day, it will also find you in some way changed from the person
+you were in the morning, either through the shedding of the dry
+epidermis from the backs of your hands (which, according to one of
+Nature's most wonderful processes, is replaced by new epidermis as
+soon as the old is gone), or through the addition of a fraction of an
+inch to your height or girth, or through some other of the inscrutable
+alchemies of Nature.
+
+Think this over as you go to work, to-day, and see if it doesn't tell
+_you_ something about _your_ problem.
+
+
+How I Put Myself on the Map
+
+It was seven o'clock at night when I first struck New York. I had come
+from a Middle Western town to make my fortune as a writer, and I was
+already discouraged. I knew no one in the Big City, and had been
+counting on my membership in the National Geographic Society to find
+me friends among my fellow-members in town. But I soon discovered that
+the fraternity spirit in the East was much less cordial than in my
+home district, and I realized, too late, that I was all alone.
+
+With a few coins that my father had slipped into my hand as I left
+home, I engaged a tiny suite at the St. Regis and there set about my
+writing.
+
+The first 10,000 manuscripts which I sent out, I now have. (I am at
+present working them over into a serial for the _Saturday Evening
+Post_ weekly, from which I expect to make $25,000). But that is
+beside the point. For the purposes of the present narrative, I was a
+failure. The manager of the hotel was pressing me for my rent, which
+was already several hours overdue. I had not tipped the chamber-maid
+since breakfast. I sat looking out at my window, staring at the
+squalid wall of the Hotel Ritz. I had met New York face to face--and I
+had lost.
+
+No, not lost! There was still one chance left I sat down and, with
+feverish haste, wrote out a glowing account of my failure. I spared no
+detail of my degradation, even to taking fruit from the hotel table to
+my room.
+
+Then I began to fabricate. I told how I had overcome all these
+handicaps and had made a success of myself. I lied. I said that I was
+now drawing down $200,000 a year, but that I had never forgotten my
+old friends. It was a good yarn, but it took me a long while to make
+it up. And when, at last, it was ready, I sent it to the _American
+Magazine_.
+
+This is it!
+
+
+How Insane Are You?
+
+Following is a test used in all State Hospitals to determine the
+fitness of the inmates for occasional shore leave. Try it on yourself
+and see where you get off.
+
+
+TEST NO. 1
+
+If you really are the reincarnation of Learning, write something here
+... but if you are being hounded by a lot of relatives whom you
+dislike, ring and walk in. Then, granting all this, how does it come
+about that you, a member of the Interstate Commerce Commission, wear
+no collar?... Ha, ha, we caught you there! But otherwise, write any
+letter beginning with _w_ in this space. Yes, there is the
+space,--what's the matter with you? Go back and look again.... You
+win. Now, in spite of what the neighbors say, give three reasons for
+not giving three reasons why this proves that you are sane, or, as the
+case may be.
+
+
+
+
+HARPER'S MAGAZINE
+
+
+Through the Dobrudja with Gun and Camera
+
+There was a heavy mist falling as we left Ilanlâc, rendering the
+_cozbars_ (native _doblacs_) doubly indistinguishable. This was
+unfortunate, as we had planned on taking many photographs, some of
+which are reproduced here.
+
+Our party consisted of seven members of the Society: Molwinch, young
+Houghbotham, Capt. Ramp, and myself, together with fourteen native
+_barbudos_ (_luksni_ who are under the draft age), a boat's crew, two
+helpers, and some potted tongue. Lieut. Furbearing, the Society's
+press-agent, had sailed earlier in the week, and was to join us at
+Curtea de Argesh.
+
+Before us, as we progressed, lay the Tecuci, shimmering in the
+reflected light of the _sun_ (sun). They were named by their
+discoverer, Joao Galatz, after his uncle, whose name was Wurgle, or,
+as he was known among the natives, "Wurgle." From that time (1808)
+until 1898, no automobile was ever seen on one of the Tecuci, although
+many of the inhabitants subsisted entirely on what we call
+"cottage-cheese."
+
+The weevils of this district (_Curculionidæ_) remarkable for their
+lack of poise. We saw several of them, just at sundown, when,
+according to an old native legend, the weevil comes out to defy the
+God of _Acor_, his ancient enemy, and never, not even in Castanheira,
+have I seen weevils more embarrassed than those upon whom we came
+suddenly at a bend in the Selch River.
+
+Early morning found us filing up the Buzeau Valley, with the
+gun-bearers and bus-boys in single-file behind us, and a picturesque
+lot they were, too, with their lisle socks and queer patch-pockets. In
+taking a picture of them, I walked backward into the Buzeau River,
+which delayed the party, as I had, in my bag, the key with which the
+potted tongue cans were to be opened.
+
+We were fortunate enough to catch several male puffins, which were so
+ingenuous as to eat the carpet-tacks we offered them. The puffin
+(_Thalassidroma buleverii_), is easily distinguishable from the more
+effete robin of America because the two birds are similar in no
+essential points. This makes it convenient for the naturalist, who
+might otherwise get them mixed. Puffins are hunted principally for
+their companionable qualities, a domesticated puffin being held the
+equal--if not quite--of the average Dobrudjan housewife in many
+respects, such as, for instance, self-respect.
+
+It was late in the afternoon of the third day, when we finally reached
+Dimbovitza, and the cool _llemla_ was indeed refreshing. It had been,
+we one and all agreed, a most interesting trip, and we vowed that we
+should not forget our Three Days in the Dobrudja.
+
+
+Dead Leaves
+
+"Ain't you got them dishes done up yet, Irma?"
+
+A petulant voice from what, in Central New England, is called the
+"sittin' room," penetrated the cool silence of the farm-house kitchen.
+Irma Hathaway passed her hand heavily before her eyes.
+
+"Yes, Ma," she replied wearily, as she threw a cup at the steel
+engraving of "The Return of the Mayflower" which hung on the kitchen
+wall. She wondered when she would die.
+
+A cold wind blew along the corridor which connected the kitchen with
+the wood-shed. Then, as if disgruntled, it blew back again, like a man
+returning to his room after a fresh handkerchief. Irma shuddered. It
+was all so inexplicably depressing.
+
+For eighteen years the sun had never been able to shine in Bemis
+Corners. God knows it had tried. But there had always been something
+imponderable, something monstrously bleak, which had thrown itself,
+like a great cloak, between the warm light of that body and the grim
+reality of Bemis Corners.
+
+"If Eben had only known," thought Irma, and buried her face in the
+soapy water.
+
+Some one entered the room from the wood-shed, stamping the snow from
+his boots. She knew, without looking up, that it was Ira.
+
+"Why hev you come?" she said softly, lifting her moist eyes to him. It
+was not Ira. It was the hired man. She sobbed pitifully and leaped
+upon the roller-towel which hung on the door, pulling it round and
+round like a captive squirrel in a revolving cage.
+
+"It ain't no use," she moaned.
+
+And, through the cadavers of the apple-trees in the orchard behind the
+house, there rattled a wind from the sea, the sea to which men go down
+in ships never to return, telling of sorrow and all that sort of
+thing.
+
+"Fate," some people call it.
+
+To Irma Hathaway it was all the same.
+
+
+June, July, August
+
+    _Tulips, crocuses and chard,_
+    _And the wax bean_
+    _In the back yard._
+    _And the open road to the land of dreams,_
+    _With the heavy swirl_
+    _Of the singing streams._
+    _Oh! boy!_
+
+
+Unpublished Letters of Mark Twain
+
+_With a foreword by Albert Bigelow Paine_[1]
+
+FOREWORD
+
+
+This letter from Mark Twain to Mr. Horace J. Borrow of Hartford has
+recently been called to my attention by a niece of Mr. Borrow's who
+now lives in Glastonbury. I have no reason to believe that the lady is
+a charlatan, in fact, I have often heard Mark Twain speak of Mr.
+Borrow in the highest terms.
+
+[Footnote 1: The complete works of Mark Twain, with complete forewords
+by Mr. Paine are, oddly enough, published by Harper and Bros. who,
+oddly enough, also publish this magazine. We celebrate this
+coincidence by offering the complete set to our readers on easy and
+friendly terms.]
+
+
+_Mr. Horace J. Borrow_
+_Hartford, Connecticut_
+
+Dear Mr. Borrow: Enclosed find check for ten dollars ($10) in payment
+of my annual dues for the year 1891-2.
+
+Yours truly,
+    (Signed) S.L. CLEMENS.
+
+
+Highways and By-Ways in Old Fall River
+
+The chance visitor to Fall River may be said, like the old fisherman
+in "Bartholomew Fair," to have "seen half the world, without tasting
+its savor." Wandering down the Main Street, with its clanging
+trolley-cars and noisy drays, one wonders (as, indeed, one may well
+wonder), if all this is a manifestation so much of Fall River as it is
+of that for which Fall River stands.
+
+Frankly, I do not know.
+
+But there is something in the air, something ineffable in the swirl of
+the smoke from the towering stacks, which sings, to the rhythm of the
+clashing shuttles and humming looms, of a day when old gentlemen in
+belted raglans and cloth-topped boots strolled through these streets,
+bearing with them the legend of mutability. Perhaps "mutability" is
+too strong a word. Fall Riverians would think so.
+
+And the old Fall River Line! What memories does that name not awaken
+in the minds of globe-trotters? Or, rather, what memories _does_ it
+awaken? William Lloyd Garrison is said to have remarked upon one
+occasion to Benjamin Butler that one of the most grateful features of
+Fall River was the night-boat for New York. To which Butler is
+reported to have replied: "But, my dear Lloyd, there is no night-boat
+to New York, and there won't be until along about 1875 or even later.
+So your funny crack, in its essential detail, falls flat."
+
+But, regardless of all this, the fact remains that Fall River is Fall
+River, and that it is within easy motoring distance of Newport, which
+offers our art department countless opportunities for charming
+illustrations.
+
+
+The Editor's Drawer
+
+Little Bobby, aged five, saying his prayers, had come to that most
+critical of diplomatic crises: the naming of relatives to be blessed.
+
+"Why don't I ask God to bless Aunt Mabel?" he queried, looking up with
+a roguish twinkle in his blue eyes.
+
+"But you do, Bobby," answered his mother.
+
+"So I do," was his prompt reply.
+
+Little Willy, aged seven, was asked by his teacher to define the word
+"confuse." "'Confuse' is what my daddy says when he looks at his
+watch," said Willy. The teacher never asked that question again. At
+least, not of Willy.
+
+Little Gertrude, aged three, was saying her prayers. "Is God
+everywhere?" she asked.
+
+"Yes, dear, everywhere," answered her mother.
+
+"_Everywhere?_" she persisted.
+
+"Yes, dear, _everywhere,_" repeated her mother, all unsuspecting.
+
+"Then He must be like Uncle Ned," said the little tot.
+
+"Why, Gertrude, what makes you say that?"
+
+"Because I heard Daddy say that Uncle Ned was everywhere," was the
+astounding reply.
+
+
+
+
+THE SATURDAY EVENING POST
+
+
+THE LAST MATCH
+
+By Roy Comfort Ashurst
+
+Slowly the girl in the green hat approached the swinging door of the
+hotel.
+
+She was thinking.
+
+A man more versed in the ways of womankind than Ned Pillsbury might,
+perhaps, have perceived that she was also glancing surreptitiously
+upwards through the dark fringe of lashes which veiled her brown gypsy
+eyes, but Ned was not a trained observer in such matters. To him, as
+he sat in the large, roomy leather chair in the lobby, the only
+reaction was
+
+(_Continued on page 49_)
+
+
+ARE YOU SURE OF YOUR CRANK-SHAFT?
+
+The answer to this question is the answer to the peace of mind with
+which you operate your motor. Whether you are the operator of an
+automobile, or one of those intrepid spirits to whom the world-war has
+given the vision of flying through the air at 175 miles an hour, you
+need to give pause and say to yourself:
+
+"Just how much faith can I put in my crank-shaft?"
+
+And if it is a Zimco crank-shaft, made in the factory of a thousand
+sky-lights, you may be sure that it will stand the test.
+
+Zimco crank-shafts have that indefinable quality which gives them
+personality among crank-shafts. You know a Zimco when you see one and
+you feel that it is an old friend. It does everything but speak. And
+that its host of friends do for it.
+
+Let us send you free our handsome little booklet on
+"After-the-War-Problems."
+
+
+(_Continued from page 8_)
+
+     one of amazement that there could be such a beautiful person
+     alive in this generation.
+
+     Ned was a young man of great possibilities, but few
+     probabilities. Born in the confusion of an up-state city, and
+     educated in the hub-bub of a large college, on whose football
+     team he had distinguished himself in the position of
+     left-halfback, he had never been so fortunate as to receive
+     that quiet instruction in dark brown eyelashes and their
+     potentialities which has been found to be so highly essential
+     to the equipment
+
+(_Continued on page 107_)
+
+
+INTRODUCING THE 7-TON GARGANTUA TRUCK
+
+This important announcement is made by the Gargantua Company with a
+full realization of its significance. We realize that we are creating
+a new thing in trucks.
+
+The Gargantua combines all the qualities of the truck with the
+conveniences of a Fall River boat. Its transmission system has been
+called "The Queen of Transmissions." The efficacy of its bull-pinions
+in the tractor attachment has been the subject of enthusiastic praise
+from bull-pinion experts on all continents.
+
+The Gargantua is the result of a dream. Henry L. McFern (now president
+of the Gargantua Co.), was the dreamer. Mr. McFern wanted something
+that would revolutionize the truck business, and yet still be a truck.
+He gave it the thought of all his waking hours. His friends called him
+a "dreamer," but Henry McFern only smiled. When first he brought out
+the model of the Gargantua it was called "McFern's Folly," but Henry
+McFern only smiled the more. And when the time came for the test, it
+was seen that the "dreamer" of South Bend had given the world a _new_
+Idea.
+
+
+(_Continued from page 49_)
+
+     of a man of the world to-day. He knew that women were strange
+     creatures, for this popular superstition reaches even to the
+     recesses of the most exclusive of male retreats, but further
+     than that he was uninformed. He had, it is true, like many
+     another young man, felt the influence of certain pairs of
+     blue eyes
+
+(_Continued on page 113_)
+
+
+I AM THE STRENGTH OF AGES
+
+¶I have sprung from the depths of the hills.
+
+¶Before the rivers were brought forth, or even before the green leaves
+in their softness made the landscape, I was your servant.
+
+¶From the bowels of the earth, where men toil in darknesss, I come,
+bringing a message of insuperable strength.
+
+¶From sun to sun I meet and overcome the forces of nature, brothers of
+mine, yet opponents; kindred, yet foes.
+
+¶I am silent, but my voice re-echoes beyond the ends of the earth.
+
+¶I am master, yet I am slave.
+
+¶I am Woonsocket Wrought Iron Pipe, "the Strongest in the Long Run."
+(Trademark.)
+
+Send for illustrated booklet entitled
+
+"_The Romance of Iron Pipe._"
+
+
+(_Continued from page 107_)
+
+     which had come into his life during the years when he was in
+     susceptible moods, but such occurrences were not the result
+     of any realization on his part of their significance. They
+     were in the same category of physical phenomena as includes
+     measles or chicken-pox, for example,--the direct result of a
+     certain
+
+(_Continued on page 125_)
+
+
+WHY WORRY OVER CHISEL TROUBLES?
+
+"You've got the right kind of chisel there. I see it's a Blimco. I've
+always found that Blimco chisels stand up longer under everyday usage,
+and I tell my foremen to see to it that the men always have their
+Blimcoes and no other. I have tried the others, but have always come
+back to the Blimco. I suppose it is because the Blimco is made by
+master-workmen, supervised by experts and sold only by dealers who
+know the best tools. When you see a Blimco in a dealer's window, you
+may know that that dealer is a man of discrimination. The
+discriminating workman always uses a Blimco. 'The Chisel of
+Distinction.' Clip this coupon and send it NOW for our instructive
+booklet 'Chiselling Prosperity'."
+
+
+(_Continued from page 113_)
+
+     temporary debility which renders the patient susceptible to
+     infection.
+
+     Ned Pillsbury was therefore somewhat overcome by the vision
+     of the girl with the green hat, and suffered from that
+     feeling of pioneering emotion which must have affected Mr.
+     Balboa who, according to the poet, stood "silent on a peak in
+     Darien" survey-
+
+(_Continued on page 140_)
+
+
+MAKE YOUR PISTON-RINGS WORK FOR YOU
+
+Why should you persist in being ashamed of your piston-rings?
+
+Why should you make your wife and daughter suffer the humiliation
+which comes from knowing that you are using an inferior make?
+
+"Emancipator" Piston-Rings cost more than ordinary piston-rings, but
+they are worth it. They are worth more even than we ask.
+
+What would it mean to you to know that you were not losing steam power
+because of a faulty piston-ring? Wouldn't it be worth a few extra
+dollars?
+
+Napoleon once said that an army marches on its stomach.
+
+If this has any relation to piston-rings, we fail to see it. But it
+has as much relation to piston-rings as a matter of price does when
+steam economy is at stake.
+
+"Emancipator" Piston-Rings bring twice the power with one-half the
+trouble. That's why we call them "Emancipator."
+
+Ask your grocer about "Emancipators." He will tell you to ask your
+garage-man. In the meantime, let us send you our catalog.
+
+
+(_Continued from page 125_)
+
+     ing the Pacific. He was aware of a strange exaltation
+     coursing through his veins, and before he knew it, he was on
+     his feet and pushing through the revolving door in the
+     compartment behind the green hat.
+
+(_Continued on page 156_)
+
+
+YOU, MR. LEATHER-BELTING-USER!
+
+What is your problem?
+
+Do you wake up in the morning with green spots before your eyes? Are
+you depressed? Does the thought of a day's work with an unsatisfactory
+belting weigh upon your mind, bringing on acidosis, hardening of the
+arteries, and a feeling of opposition to the League of Nations?
+
+If so, let us tackle your problem for you.
+
+We have built up a service department which stands alone in its field.
+For sixteen years we have been making it the perfect institution that
+it is to-day.
+
+Bring your belting troubles to Mr. Henry W. Wurlitz, who is at the
+head of our service department, and he will set you right. He will
+show you the way to a Bigger, Better, Belting outlook.
+
+
+(_Continued from page 140_)
+
+     "I beg your pardon," he said softly, as they emerged on the
+     street, "but did you drop this flask?"
+
+     She turned quickly and faced him. There was a twinkle in her
+     dark brown eyes as she answered him:
+
+(_To be continued_)
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Of All Things, by Robert C. Benchley
+
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+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Of All Things, by Robert C. Benchley
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Of All Things
+
+Author: Robert C. Benchley
+
+Release Date: October 7, 2011 [EBook #37660]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OF ALL THINGS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Andrea Ball, Christine Bell & Marc D'Hooghe
+at http://www.freeliterature.org
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 533px;">
+<img src="images/img01_cover.jpg" width="533" alt="book cover" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<h1>OF ALL THINGS</h1>
+
+<h3>BY</h3>
+
+<h2>ROBERT C. BENCHLEY</h2>
+
+<h4>NEW YORK</h4>
+<h4>HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY</h4>
+
+<h4>1921</h4>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 95%;" />
+
+<p class="small"><a href="#CONTENTS">Table of contents</a></p>
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+
+<blockquote>
+<p class="cap_ctr">TO<br /> HENRY BESSEMER</p>
+
+<p>Without whose tireless patience, unswerving
+industry and inexhaustible zeal the Bessemer
+steel converter would never have become a
+reality, this book is affectionately dedicated by</p>
+
+<p class="cap_ctr">THE AUTHOR.</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p>These sketches appeared originally in <i>Vanity Fair</i>, <i>The
+New York Tribune Sunday Magazine</i>, <i>Collier's Weekly</i>,
+<i>Life</i>, and <i>Motor Print</i>, all but two of these magazines
+immediately afterward having either discontinued publication
+or changed hands. To those which are old
+enough to remember, and to the new managements of
+the others, the author offers grateful acknowledgment for
+permission to reprint the material in this book. (As a
+matter of fact, permission was never asked, but they
+probably won't mind anyway.)</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="PREFACE" id="PREFACE"></a>PREFACE</h3>
+
+
+<p>When, in the Course of human events, it becomes
+necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands
+which have connected them with another, and to assume
+among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal
+station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's
+God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of
+mankind requires that they should declare the causes
+which impel them to the separation.</p>
+
+<p>We hold these truths to be self-evident,&mdash;that all men
+are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator
+with certain unalienable Rights; that among these are
+Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. That to
+secure these rights, Governments are instituted among
+Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the
+governed,&mdash;That whenever any Form of Government becomes
+destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the
+People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new
+Government, laying its foundation on such principles
+and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall
+seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness.
+Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long
+established should not be changed for light and transient
+causes; and accordingly all experience hath shewn, that
+mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable,
+than to right themselves by abolishing the forms
+to which they are accustomed. But when a long train
+of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same
+Object, evinces a design to reduce them under absolute
+Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off
+such Government, and to provide new Guards for their
+own future security. Such has been the patient sufferance
+of these Colonies; and such is now the necessity
+which constrains them to alter their former Systems of
+Government. The history of the present King of Great
+Britain is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations,
+all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute
+Tyranny over these States. To prove this, let Facts
+be submitted to a candid world.</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 26em;">R.C.B.</span><br />
+<br />
+<br />
+"The Rookery"<br />
+Breeming Downs<br />
+Wippet-cum-Twyne<br />
+New York City<br />
+August 24, 1921<br />
+</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h3>
+
+<table cellpadding="1">
+<tr><td class="tdrb"></td><td class="tdlb"><a href="#PREFACE">PREFACE</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"></td><td class="tdlb"><a href="#OF_ALL_THINGS">OF ALL THINGS!</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"><a href="#I">I</a></td><td class="tdl"> THE SOCIAL LIFE OF THE NEWT</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"><a href="#II">II</a></td><td class="tdl"> "COFFEE, MEGG AND ILK, PLEASE"</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"><a href="#III">III</a></td><td class="tdl"> WHEN GENIUS REMAINED YOUR HUMBLE SERVANT</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"><a href="#IV">IV</a></td><td class="tdl"> THE TORTURES OF WEEKEND VISITING</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"><a href="#V">V</a></td><td class="tdl"> GARDENING NOTES</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"><a href="#VI">VI</a></td><td class="tdl"> LESSON NUMBER ONE</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"><a href="#VII">VII</a></td><td class="tdl"> THOUGHTS ON FUEL SAVING</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"><a href="#VIII">VIII</a></td><td class="tdl"> NOT ACCORDING TO HOYLE</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"><a href="#IX">IX</a></td><td class="tdl"> FROM NINE TO FIVE</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"><a href="#X">X</a></td><td class="tdl"> TURNING OVER A NEW LEDGER LEAF</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"><a href="#XI">XI</a></td><td class="tdl"> A PIECE OF ROAST BEEF</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"><a href="#XII">XII</a></td><td class="tdl"> THE COMMUNITY MASQUE AS A SUBSTITUTE FOR WAR</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"><a href="#XIII">XIII</a></td><td class="tdl"> CALL FOR MR. KENWORTHY!</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"><a href="#XIV">XIV</a></td><td class="tdl"> FOOTBALL; COURTESY OF MR. MORSE</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"><a href="#XV">XV</a></td><td class="tdl"> A LITTLE DEBIT IN YOUR TONNEAU</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"><a href="#XVI">XVI</a></td><td class="tdl"> A ROMANCE IN ENCYCLOPÆDIA LAND</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"><a href="#XVII">XVII</a></td><td class="tdl"> THE PASSING OF THE ORTHODOX PARADOX</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"><a href="#XVIII">XVIII</a></td><td class="tdl"> SHAKESPEARE EXPLAINED</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"><a href="#XIX">XIX</a></td><td class="tdl">THE SCIENTIFIC SCENARIO</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"></td><td class="tdlb"><a href="#CAST_OF_CHARACTERS">CAST OF CHARACTERS</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"><a href="#XX">XX</a></td><td class="tdl"> THE MOST POPULAR BOOK OF THE MONTH</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"><a href="#XXI">XXI</a></td><td class="tdl"> CHRISTMAS AFTERNOON</td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"><a href="#XXII">XXII</a></td><td class="tdl"> HAIL, VERNAL EQUINOX!</td></tr>
+<tr><td><br /></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"></td><td class="tdlb"><a href="#TABLOID_EDITIONS">TABLOID EDITIONS</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"></td><td class="tdlb"><a href="#THE_AMERICAN_MAGAZINE">THE AMERICAN MAGAZINE</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"></td><td class="tdlb"><a href="#HARPERS_MAGAZINE">HARPER'S MAGAZINE</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdrb"></td><td class="tdlb"><a href="#THE_SATURDAY_EVENING_POST">THE SATURDAY EVENING POST</a></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="OF_ALL_THINGS" id="OF_ALL_THINGS"></a>OF ALL THINGS!</h2>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="I" id="I"></a>I</h3>
+
+<h4>THE SOCIAL LIFE OF THE NEWT</h4>
+
+
+<p>It is not generally known that the newt, although
+one of the smallest of our North American animals,
+has an extremely happy home-life. It is just
+one of those facts which never get bruited about.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 333px;">
+<img src="images/img02_p003.jpg" width="333"
+alt="Since that time I have practically lived among the newts" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>I first became interested in the social phenomena
+of newt life early in the spring of 1913, shortly
+after I had finished my researches in sexual differentiation
+among amœba. Since that time I have
+practically lived among newts, jotting down observations,
+making lantern-slides, watching them in their
+work and in their play (and you may rest assured
+that the little rogues have their play&mdash;as who does
+not?) until, from much lying in a research posture
+on my stomach, over the inclosure in which they
+were confined, I found myself developing what I
+feared might be rudimentary creepers. And so, late
+this autumn, I stood erect and walked into my house,
+where I immediately set about the compilation of the
+notes I had made.</p>
+
+<p>So much for the non-technical introduction. The
+remainder of this article bids fair to be fairly scientific.</p>
+
+<p>In studying the more intimate phases of newt life,
+one is chiefly impressed with the methods by means
+of which the males force their attentions upon the
+females, with matrimony as an object. For the newt
+is, after all, only a newt, and has his weaknesses
+just as any of the rest of us. And I, for one, would
+not have it different. There is little enough fun in
+the world as it is.</p>
+
+<p>The peculiar thing about a newt's courtship is
+its restraint. It is carried on, at all times, with
+a minimum distance of fifty paces (newt measure)
+between the male and the female. Some of the
+bolder males may now and then attempt to overstep
+the bounds of good sportsmanship and crowd
+in to forty-five paces, but such tactics are frowned
+upon by the Rules Committee. To the eye of an
+uninitiated observer, the pair might be dancing a few
+of the more open figures of the minuet.</p>
+
+<p>The means employed by the males to draw the
+attention and win the affection of those of the opposite
+sex (females) are varied and extremely strategic.
+Until the valuable researches by Strudlehoff in
+1887 (in his "<i>Entwickelungsmechanik</i>") no one
+had been able to ascertain just what it was that the
+male newt did to make the female see anything
+in him worth throwing herself away on. It had been
+observed that the most personally unattractive newt
+could advance to within fifty paces of a female of
+his acquaintance and, by some <i>coup d'Å“il</i>, bring her
+to a point where she would, in no uncertain terms,
+indicate her willingness to go through with the marriage
+ceremony at an early date.</p>
+
+<p>It was Strudlehoff who discovered, after watching
+several thousand courting newts under a magnifying
+lens (questionable taste on his part, without
+doubt, but all is fair in pathological love) that
+the male, during the courting season (the season
+opens on the tenth of March and extends through
+the following February, leaving about ten days for
+general overhauling and redecorating) gives forth
+a strange, phosphorescent glow from the center of
+his highly colored dorsal crest, somewhat similar in
+effect to the flash of a diamond scarfpin in a red
+necktie. This glow, according to Strudlehoff, so
+fascinates the female with its air of elegance and
+indication of wealth, that she immediately falls a
+victim to its lure.</p>
+
+<p>But the little creature, true to her sex-instinct,
+does not at once give evidence that her morale has
+been shattered. She affects a coyness and lack of
+interest, by hitching herself sideways along the bottom
+of the aquarium, with her head turned over her
+right shoulder away from the swain. A trained ear
+might even detect her whistling in an indifferent
+manner.</p>
+
+<p>The male, in the meantime, is flashing his gleamer
+frantically two blocks away and is performing all
+sorts of attractive feats, calculated to bring the lady
+newt to terms. I have seen a male, in the stress
+of his handicap courtship, stand on his fore-feet,
+gesticulating in amorous fashion with his hind feet
+in the air. Franz Ingehalt, in his "Ãœber Weltschmerz
+des Newt," recounts having observed a distinct
+and deliberate undulation of the body, beginning
+with the shoulders and ending at the filament
+of the tail, which might well have been the origin
+of what is known to-day in scientific circles as "the
+shimmy." The object seems to be the same, except
+that in the case of the newt, it is the male who is
+the active agent.</p>
+
+<p>In order to test the power of observation in the
+male during these manœuvers, I carefully removed
+the female, for whose benefit he was undulating, and
+put in her place, in slow succession, another (but
+less charming) female, a paper-weight of bronze
+shaped like a newt, and, finally, a common rubber
+eraser. From the distance at which the courtship
+was being carried on, the male (who was, it must
+be admitted, a bit near-sighted congenitally) was
+unable to detect the change in personnel, and continued,
+even in the presence of the rubber eraser,
+to gyrate and undulate in a most conscientious manner,
+still under the impression that he was making
+a conquest.</p>
+
+<p>At last, worn out by his exertions, and disgusted
+at the meagerness of the reaction on the eraser,
+he gave a low cry of rage and despair and staggered
+to a nearby pan containing barley-water, from
+which he proceeded to drink himself into a gross
+stupor.</p>
+
+<p>Thus, little creature, did your romance end, and
+who shall say that its ending was one whit less tragic
+than that of Camille? Not I, for one.... In fact,
+the two cases are not at all analogous.</p>
+
+<p>And now that we have seen how wonderfully Nature
+works in the fulfilment of her laws, even among
+her tiniest creatures, let us study for a minute a
+cross-section of the community-life of the newt. It
+is a life full of all kinds of exciting adventure, from
+weaving nests to crawling about in the sun and
+catching insect larvæ and crustaceans. The newt's
+day is practically never done, largely because the
+insect larvæ multiply three million times as fast as
+the newt can possibly catch and eat them. And it
+takes the closest kind of community team-work in
+the newt colony to get things anywhere near cleaned
+up by nightfall.</p>
+
+<p>It is early morning, and the workers are just
+appearing, hurrying to the old log which is to be
+the scene of their labors. What a scampering!
+What a bustle! Ah, little scamperers! Ah, little
+bustlers! How lucky you are, and how wise! You
+work long hours, without pay, for the sheer love
+of working. An ideal existence, I'll tell the scientific
+world.</p>
+
+<p>Over here on the right of the log are the Master
+Draggers. Of all the newt workers, they are the
+most futile, which is high praise indeed. Come,
+let us look closer and see what it is that they are
+doing.</p>
+
+<p>The one in the lead is dragging a bit of gurry out
+from the water and up over the edge into the sunlight.
+Following him, in single file, come the rest
+of the Master Draggers. They are not dragging
+anything, but are sort of helping the leader by
+crowding against him and eating little pieces out
+of the filament of his tail.</p>
+
+<p>And now they have reached the top. The leader,
+by dint of much leg-work, has succeeded in dragging
+his prize to the ridge of the log.</p>
+
+<p>The little workers, reaching the goal with their
+precious freight, are now giving it over to the
+Master Pushers, who have been waiting for them in
+the sun all this while. The Master Pushers' work
+is soon accomplished, for it consists simply in pushing
+the piece of gurry over the other side of the
+log until it falls with a splash into the water, where
+it is lost.</p>
+
+<p>This part of their day's task finished, the tiny
+toilers rest, clustered together in a group, waving
+their heads about from side to side, as who should
+say: "There&mdash;that's done!" And so it <i>is</i> done,
+my little Master Draggers and my little Master
+Pushers, and <i>well</i> done, too. Would that my own
+work were as clean-cut and as satisfying.</p>
+
+<p>And so it goes. Day in and day out, the busy
+army of newts go on making the world a better
+place in which to live. They have their little trials
+and tragedies, it is true, but they also have their
+fun, as any one can tell by looking at a logful of
+sleeping newts on a hot summer day.</p>
+
+<p>And, after all, what more has life to offer?</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="II" id="II"></a>II</h3>
+
+<h4>"COFFEE, MEGG AND ILK, PLEASE"</h4>
+
+
+<p>Give me any topic in current sociology, such
+as "The Working Classes <i>vs.</i> the Working
+Classes," or "Various Aspects of the Minimum
+Wage," and I can talk on it with considerable confidence.
+I have no hesitation in putting the Workingman,
+as such, in his place among the hewers of
+wood and drawers of water&mdash;a necessary adjunct
+to our modern life, if you will, but of little real
+consequence in the big events of the world.</p>
+
+<p>But when I am confronted, in the flesh, by the
+"close up" of a workingman with any vestige of
+authority, however small, I immediately lose my
+perspective&mdash;and also my poise. I become servile,
+almost cringing. I feel that my modest demands on
+his time may, unless tactfully presented, be offensive
+to him and result in something, I haven't been able
+to analyze just what, perhaps public humiliation.</p>
+
+<p>For instance, whenever I enter an elevator in a
+public building I am usually repeating to myself the
+number of the floor at which I wish to alight. The
+elevator man gives the impression of being a social
+worker, filling the job just for that day to help
+out the regular elevator man, and I feel that the
+least I can do is to show him that I know what's
+what. So I don't tell him my floor number as soon
+as I get in. Only elderly ladies do that. I keep
+whispering it over to myself, thinking to tell it to
+the world when the proper time comes. But then
+the big question arises&mdash;what is the proper time?
+If I want to get out at the eighteenth floor, should
+I tell him at the sixteenth or the seventeenth? I
+decide on the sixteenth and frame my lips to say,
+"Eighteen out, please." (Just why one should
+have to add the word "out" to the number of the
+floor is not clear. When you say "eighteen" the
+obvious construction of the phrase is that you want
+to get <i>out</i> at the eighteenth floor, not that you
+want to get in there or be let down through the
+flooring of the car at that point. However, you'll
+find the most sophisticated elevator riders, namely,
+messenger boys, always adding the word "out," and
+it is well to follow what the messenger boys do in
+such matters if you don't want to go wrong.)</p>
+
+<p>So there I am, mouthing the phrase, "Eighteen
+out, please," as we shoot past the tenth&mdash;eleventh&mdash;twelfth&mdash;thirteenth
+floors. Then I begin to get
+panicky. Supposing that I should forget my lines!
+Or that I should say them too soon! Or too late!
+We are now at the fifteenth floor. I clear my throat.
+Sixteen! Hoarsely I murmur, "Eighteen out."
+But at the same instant a man with a cigar in his
+mouth bawls, "Seventeen out!" and I am not heard.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 439px;">
+<img src="images/img03_p012.jpg" width="439"
+alt="At the same instant a man with a cigar in his mouth bawls,
+'Seventeen out!'" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>The car stops at seventeen, and I step confidentially
+up to the elevator man and repeat, with an attempt
+at nonchalance, "Eighteen out, please." But just
+as I say the words the door clangs, drowning out
+my request, and we shoot up again. I make another
+attempt, but have become inarticulate and
+succeed only in making a noise like a man strangling.
+And by this time we are at the twenty-first
+floor with no relief in sight. Shattered, I retire to
+the back of the car and ride up to the roof and
+down again, trying to look as if I worked in the
+building and had to do it, however boresome it
+might be. On the return trip I don't care what
+the elevator man thinks of me, and tell him at
+every floor that I, personally, am going to get off
+at the eighteenth, no matter what any one else
+in the car does. I am dictatorial enough when I
+am riled. It is only in the opening rounds that I
+hug the ropes.</p>
+
+<p>My timidity when dealing with minor officials
+strikes me first in my voice. I have any number
+of witnesses who will sign statements to the effect
+that my voice changed about twelve years ago, and
+that in ordinary conversation my tone, if not especially
+virile, is at least consistent and even. But
+when, for instance, I give an order at a soda fountain,
+if the clerk overawes me at all, my voice breaks
+into a yodel that makes the phrase "Coffee, egg and
+milk" a pretty snatch of song, but practically worthless
+as an order.</p>
+
+<p>If the soda counter is lined with customers and
+the clerks so busy tearing up checks and dropping
+them into the toy banks that they seem to resent
+any call on their drink-mixing abilities, I might just
+as well save time and go home and shake up an egg
+and milk for myself, for I shall not be waited on
+until every one else has left the counter and they
+are putting the nets over the caramels for the night.
+I know that. I've gone through it too many times
+to be deceived.</p>
+
+<p>For there is something about the realization that
+I must shout out my order ahead of some one else
+that absolutely inhibits my shouting powers. I will
+stand against the counter, fingering my ten-cent
+check and waiting for the clerk to come near enough
+for me to tell him what I want, while, in the meantime,
+ten or a dozen people have edged up next to
+me and given their orders, received their drinks
+and gone away. Every once in a while I catch a
+clerk's eye and lean forward murmuring, "Coffee"&mdash;but
+that is as far as I get. Some one else has
+shoved his way in and shouted, "Coca-Cola," and
+I draw back to get out of the way of the vichy spray.
+(Incidentally, the men who push their way in and
+footfault on their orders always ask for "Coca-Cola."
+Somehow it seems like painting the lily for
+them to order a nerve tonic.)</p>
+
+<p>I then decide that the thing for me to do is to
+speak up loud and act brazenly. So I clear my
+throat, and, placing both hands on the counter, emit
+what promises to be a perfect bellow: "COFFEE,
+MEGG AND ILK." This makes just about the
+impression you'd think it would, both on my neighbors
+and the clerk, especially as it is delivered in
+a tone which ranges from a rich barytone to a rather
+rasping tenor. At this I withdraw and go to the
+other end of the counter, where I can begin life
+over again with a clean slate.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 455 px;">
+<img src="images/img04_p015.jpg" width="455"
+alt="Placing both hands on the counter, I emit what promises to be
+a perfect bellow." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Here, perhaps, I am suddenly confronted by an
+impatient clerk who is in a perfect frenzy to grab
+my check and tear it into bits to drop in his box.
+"What's yours?" he flings at me. I immediately
+lose my memory and forget what it was that I
+wanted. But here is a man who has a lot of people
+to wait on and who doubtless gets paid according
+to the volume of business he brings in. I have no
+right to interfere with his work. There is a big
+man edging his way beside me who is undoubtedly
+going to shout "Coca-Cola" in half a second. So
+I beat him to it and say, "Coca-Cola," which is
+probably the last drink in the store that I want to
+buy. But it is the only thing that I can remember
+at the moment, in spite of the fact that I have been
+thinking all morning how good a coffee, egg and milk
+would taste. I suppose that one of the psychological
+principles of advertising is to so hammer the name
+of your product into the mind of the timid buyer
+that when he is confronted by a brusk demand for
+an order be can't think of anything else to say,
+whether he wants it or not.</p>
+
+<p>This dread of offending the minor official or appearing
+to a disadvantage before a clerk extends
+even to my taking nourishment. I don't think that
+I have ever yet gone into a restaurant and ordered
+exactly what I wanted. If only the waiter would
+give me the card and let me alone for, say, fifteen
+minutes, as he does when I want to get him
+to bring me my check, I could work out a meal along
+the lines of what I like. But when he stands over
+me, with disgust clearly registered on his face, I
+order the thing I like least and consider myself
+lucky to get out of it with so little disgrace.</p>
+
+<p>And yet I have no doubt that if one could see
+him in his family life the Workingman is just an
+ordinary person like the rest of us. He is probably
+not at all as we think of him in our dealings with
+him&mdash;a harsh, dictatorial, intolerant autocrat, but
+rather a kindly soul who likes nothing better than
+to sit by the fire with his children and read.</p>
+
+<p>And he would probably be the first person to
+scoff at the idea that he could frighten me.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="III" id="III"></a>III</h3>
+
+<h4>WHEN GENIUS REMAINED YOUR HUMBLE SERVANT</h4>
+
+
+<p>Of course, I really know nothing about it, but
+I would be willing to wager that the last words
+of Penelope, as Odysseus bounced down the front
+steps, bag in hand, were: "Now, don't forget to
+write, Odie. You'll find some papyrus rolled up
+in your clean peplum, and just drop me a line on
+it whenever you get a chance."</p>
+
+<p>And ever since that time people have been promising
+to write, and then explaining why they haven't
+written. Most personal correspondence of to-day
+consists of letters the first half of which are given
+over to an indexed statement of reasons why the
+writer hasn't written before, followed by one paragraph
+of small talk, with the remainder devoted to
+reasons why it is imperative that the letter be
+brought to a close. So many people begin their
+letters by saying that they have been rushed to death
+during the last month, and therefore haven't found
+time to write, that one wonders where all the grown
+persons come from who attend movies at eleven in
+the morning. There has been a misunderstanding
+of the word "busy" somewhere.</p>
+
+<p>So explanatory has the method of letter writing
+become that it is probable that if Odysseus were a
+modern traveler his letters home to Penelope would
+average something like this:</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Calypso,</i></span><br />
+<i>Friday afternoon.</i><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>DEAR PEN:&mdash;I have been so tied up with work
+during the last week that I haven't had a chance
+to get near a desk to write to you. I have been
+trying to every day, but something would come
+up just at the last minute that would prevent me.
+Last Monday I got the papyrus all unrolled, and
+then I had to tend to Scylla and Charybdis (I may
+have written you about them before), and by the
+time I got through with them it was bedtime, and,
+believe me, I am snatching every bit of sleep I can
+get these days. And so it went, first the Læstrygones,
+and then something else, and here it is Friday.
+Well, there isn't much news to write about.
+Things are going along here about as usual. There
+is a young nymph here who seems to own the place,
+but I haven't had any chance to meet her socially.
+Well, there goes the ship's bell. I guess I had better
+be bringing this to a close. I have got a lot
+of work to do before I get dressed to go to a dinner
+of that nymph I was telling you about. I have met
+her brother, and he and I are interested in the same
+line of goods. He was at Troy with me. Well, I
+guess I must be closing. Will try to get off a longer
+letter in a day or two.</p>
+
+<p>
+Your loving husband,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">ODIE.</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>P.S.&mdash;You haven't got that bunch of sports hanging
+round the palace still, have you? Tell Telemachus
+I'll take him out of school if I hear of his playing
+around with any of them.</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p>But there was a time when letter writing was
+such a fad, especially among the young girls, that
+if they had had to choose between eating three meals
+a day and writing a letter they wouldn't have given
+the meals even a consideration. In fact, they
+couldn't do both, for the length of maidenly letters
+in those days precluded any time out for meals.
+They may have knocked off for a few minutes during
+the heat of the day for a whiff at a bottle of
+salts, but to nibble at anything heartier than lettuce
+would have cramped their style.</p>
+
+<p>Take Miss Clarissa Harlowe, for instance. In
+Richardson's book (which, in spite of my personal
+aversion to it, has been hailed by every great writer,
+from Pope to Stevenson, as being perfectly bully)
+she is given the opportunity of telling 2,400 closely
+printed pages full of story by means of letters to
+her female friend, Miss Howe (who plays a part
+similar to the orchestra leader in Frank Tinney's
+act). And 2,400 pages is nothing to her. When
+the book closes she is just beginning to get her
+stride. As soon as she got through with that she
+probably sat down and wrote a series of letters
+to the London papers about the need for conscription
+to fight the Indians in America.</p>
+
+<p>To a girl like Clarissa, in the middle of the eighteenth
+century, no day was too full of horrors, no
+hour was too crowded with terrific happenings to
+prevent her from seating herself at a desk (she must
+have carried the desk about with her, strapped over
+her shoulder) and tearing off twenty or thirty pages
+to Friend Anna, telling her all about it. The only
+way that I can see in which she could accomplish
+this so efficiently would be to have a copy boy standing
+at her elbow, who took the letter, sheet by sheet,
+as she wrote it, and dashed with it to the printer.</p>
+
+<p>It is hard to tell just which a girl of that period
+considered more important, the experiences she was
+writing of or the letter itself. She certainly never
+slighted the letter. If the experience wanted to overtake
+her, and jump up on the desk beside her, all
+right, but, experience or no experience, she was going
+to get that letter in the next post or die in the
+attempt. Unfortunately, she never died in the
+attempt.</p>
+
+<p>Thus, an attack on a young lady's house by a
+band of cutthroats, resulting in the burning of the
+structure and her abduction, might have been told
+of in the eighteenth century letter system as follows:</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p><i>Monday night.</i></p>
+
+<p>SWEET ANNA:&mdash;At this writing I find myself in
+the most horrible circumstance imaginable. Picture
+to yourself, if you can, my dear Anna, a party of
+villainous brigands, veritable cutthroats, all of them,
+led by a surly fellow in green alpaca with white
+insertion, breaking their way, by very force,
+through the side of your domicile, like so many ugly
+intruders, and threatening you with vile imprecations
+to make you disclose the hiding place of the
+family jewels. If the mere thought of such a contingency
+is painful to you, my beloved Anna, consider
+what it means to me, your delicate friend, to
+whom it is actually happening at this very minute!
+For such is in very truth the situation which is
+disclosing itself in my room as I write. Not three
+feet away from me is the odious person before described.
+Now he is threatening me with renewed
+vigor! Now he has placed his coarse hands on
+my throat, completely hiding the pearl necklace
+which papa brought me from Epsom last summer,
+and which you, and also young Pindleson (whose
+very name I mention with a blush), have so often
+admired. But more of this later, and until then,
+believe me, my dear Anna, to be</p>
+
+<p>
+Your ever distressed and affectionate<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">CL. HARLOWE.</span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p><i>Monday night. Later.</i></p>
+
+<p>DEAREST ANNA:&mdash;Now, indeed, it is evident, my
+best, my only friend, that I am face to face with
+the bitterest of fates. You will remember that in
+my last letter I spoke to you of a party of unprincipled
+knaves who were invading my apartment.
+And now do I find that they have, in furtherance
+of their inexcusable plans, set fire to that portion
+of the house which lies directly behind this, so
+that as I put my pen to paper the flames are creeping,
+like hungry creatures of some sort, through
+the partitions and into this very room, so that did
+I esteem my safety more than my correspondence
+with you, my precious companion, I should at once
+be making preparation for immediate departure. O
+my dear! To be thus seized, as I am at this very
+instant, by the unscrupulous leader of the band and
+carried, by brute force, down the stairway through
+the butler's pantry and into the servants' hall, writing
+as I go, resting my poor paper on the shoulder
+of my detested abductor, is truly, you will agree,
+my sweet Anna, a pitiable episode.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 453 px;">
+<img src="images/img05_p024.jpg" width="453"
+alt="To be thus seized ... is truly, you will agree, my sweet Anna,
+a pitiable episode." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Adieu, my intimate friend.</p>
+
+<p>
+Your obt. s'v't,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">CL. HARLOWE.</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p>One wonders (or, at least, <i>I</i> wonder, and that is
+sufficient for the purposes of this article) what the
+letter writing young lady of that period would have
+done had she lived in this day of postcards showing
+the rocks at Scipawisset or the Free Public Library
+in East Tarvia. She might have used them for
+some of her shorter messages, but I rather doubt it.
+The foregoing scene could hardly have been done
+justice to on a card bearing the picture of the
+Main Street of the town, looking north from the
+Soldiers' Monument, with the following legend:</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>"Our house is the third on the left with the lilac
+bush. Cross marks window where gang of rough-necks
+have just broken in and are robbing and
+burning the house. Looks like a bad night. Wish
+you were here. C.H."</p></blockquote>
+
+<p>No; that would never have done, but it would
+have been a big relief for the postilion, or whoever
+it was that had to carry Miss Clarissa's effusions to
+their destination. The mail on Monday morning,
+after a springlike Sunday, must have been something
+in the nature of a wagon load of rolls of
+news print that used to be seen standing in front
+of newspaper offices in the good old days when
+newspapers were printed on paper stock. Of course,
+the postilion had the opportunity of whiling away
+the time between stations by reading some of the
+spicier bits in the assortment, but even a postilion
+must have had his feelings, and a man can't read
+that kind of stuff <i>all</i> of the time, and still keep his
+health.</p>
+
+<p>Of course, there are a great many people now
+who write letters because they like to. Also, there
+are some who do it because they feel that they
+owe it to posterity and to their publishers to do
+so. As soon as a man begins to sniff a chance that
+he may become moderately famous he is apt to
+brush up on his letter writing and never send anything
+out that has not been polished and proof-read,
+with the idea in mind that some day some
+one is going to get all of his letters together and
+make a book of them. Apparently, most great men
+whose letters have been published have had premonition
+of their greatness when quite young, as their
+childish letters bear the marks of careful and studied
+attention to publicity values. One can almost
+imagine the budding genius, aged eight, sitting at
+his desk and saying to himself:</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 349px;">
+<img src="images/img06_p027.jpg" width="349"
+alt="I must not forget that I am now going
+through the 'Sturm und Drang' period." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>"In this spontaneous letter to my father I must
+not forget that I am now going through the <i>Sturm
+und Drang</i> (storm and stress) period of my youth
+and that this letter will have to be grouped by the
+compiler under the <i>Sturm und Drang</i> (storm and
+stress) section in my collected letters. I must therefore
+keep in the key and quote only such of my favorite
+authors as will contribute to the effect. I
+think I will use Werther to-day.... My dear Father"&mdash;etc.</p>
+
+<p>I have not known many geniuses in their youth,
+but I have had several youths pointed out to me
+by their parents as geniuses, and I must confess
+that I have never seen a letter from any one of them
+that differed greatly from the letters of a normal
+boy, unless perhaps they were spelled less accurately.
+Given certain uninteresting conditions, let us say,
+at boarding school, and I believe that the average
+bright boy's letter home would read something in
+this fashion:</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p>
+<i>Exeter, N.H.,</i><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Wed., April 25.</i></span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>MY DEAR FATHER AND MOTHER:</p>
+
+<p>I have been working pretty hard this week, studying
+for a history examination, and so haven't had
+much of a chance to write to you. Everything is
+about the same as usual here, and there doesn't
+seem to be much news to write to you about. The
+box came all right, and thank you very much. All
+the fellows liked it, especially the little apple pies.
+Thank you very much for sending it. There hasn't
+much been happening here since I wrote you last
+week. I had to buy a new pair of running drawers,
+which cost me fifty cents. Does that come out of
+my allowance? Or will you pay for it? There
+doesn't seem to be any other news. Well, there
+goes the bell, so I guess I will be closing.</p>
+
+<p>
+Your loving son,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">BUXTON.</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p>Given the same, even less interesting conditions,
+and a boy such as Stevenson must have been (judging
+from his letters) could probably have delivered
+himself of this, and more, too:</p>
+
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p>
+<i>Wyckham-Wyckham,</i><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>The Tenth.</i></span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>DEAR PATER:&mdash;To-day has been unbelievably exquisite!
+Great, undulating clouds, rolling in serried
+formation across a sky of pure <i>lapis lazuli</i>. I feel
+like what Updike calls a "myrmidon of unhesitating
+amplitude." And a perfect gem of a letter from
+Toto completed the felicitous experience. You
+would hardly believe, and yet you must, in your
+<i>cœur des cœurs</i>, know, that the brown, esoteric hills
+of this Oriental retreat affect me like the red wine
+of Russilon, and, indigent as I am in these matters,
+I cannot but feel that you have, as Herbert says:</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>"Carve or discourse; do not a famine fear.</i></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><i>Who carves is kind to two, who talks to all."</i></span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>Yesterday I saw a little native boy, a veritable
+boy of the streets, playing at a game at once so
+naïve and so resplendent that I was irresistibly
+drawn to its contemplation. You will doubtless jeer
+when I tell you. He was tossing a small <i>blatch</i>,
+such as grow in great profusion here, to and fro
+between himself and the wall of the <i>limple</i>. I was
+stunned for the moment, and then I realized that
+I was looking into the very soul of the peasantry,
+the open stigma of the nation. How queer it all
+seemed! Did it not?</p>
+
+<p>You doubtless think me an ungrateful fellow for
+not mentioning the delicious assortment of goodies
+which came, like melons to Artemis, to this benighted
+<i>gesellschaft</i> on Thursday last. They were
+devoured to the last crumb, and I was reminded as
+we ate, like so many <i>wurras</i>, of those lines of that
+gorgeous Herbert, of whom I am so fond:</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>"Must all be veiled, while he that reads divines,</i></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><i>Catching the sense at two removes?"</i></span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>The breeze is springing up, and it brings to me
+messages of the open meadows of Litzel, deep festooned
+with the riot of gloriannas. How quiet they
+seem to me as I think of them now! How emblematic!
+Do you know, my dear Parent, that I sometimes
+wonder if, after all, it were not better to
+dream, and dream ... and dream.</p>
+
+<p>
+Your affectionate son,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">BERGQUIST.</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p>So don't worry about your boy if he writes home
+like that. He may simply have an eye for fame and
+future compilation.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="IV" id="IV"></a>IV</h3>
+
+<h4>THE TORTURES OF WEEK-END VISITING</h4>
+
+
+<p>The present labor situation shows to what a
+pretty pass things may come because of a
+lack of understanding between the parties involved.
+I bring in the present labor situation just to give
+a touch of timeliness to this thing. Had I been
+writing for the Christmas number, I should have
+begun as follows: "The indiscriminate giving of
+Christmas presents shows to what a pretty pass
+things may come because of a lack of understanding
+between the parties involved."</p>
+
+<p>The idea to be driven home is that things may
+come to a pretty pass by the parties involved in
+an affair of any kind if they do not come to an
+understanding before commencing operations.</p>
+
+<p>I hope I have made my point clear. Especially
+is this true, (watch out carefully now, as the whole
+nub of the article will be coming along in just a minute),
+especially is this true in the relations between
+host and guest on week-end visits. (There, you have
+it! In fact, the title to this whole thing might very
+well be, "The Need for a Clearer Definition of Relations
+between Host and Guest on Week-end Visits,"
+and not be at all overstating it, at that.)</p>
+
+<p>The logic of this will be apparent to any one who
+has ever been a host or a guest at a week-end party,
+a classification embracing practically all Caucasians
+over eleven years of age who can put powder on
+the nose or tie a bow-tie. Who has not wished that
+his host would come out frankly at the beginning of
+the visit and state, in no uncertain terms, the rules
+and preferences of the household in such matters as
+the breakfast hour? And who has not sounded his
+guest to find out what he likes in the regulation of
+his diet and <i>modus vivendi</i> (mode of living)? Collective
+bargaining on the part of labor unions and
+capital makes it possible for employers to know just
+what the workers think on matters of common interest.
+Is collective bargaining between host and
+guest so impossible, then?</p>
+
+<p>Take, for example, the matter of arising in the
+morning. Of course, where there is a large house-party
+the problem is a simple one, for you can always
+hear the others pattering about and brushing
+their teeth. You can regulate your own arising by
+the number of people who seem to be astir. But
+if you are the only guest there is apt to be a frightful
+misunderstanding.</p>
+
+<p>"At what time is breakfast?" you ask.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, any old time on Sundays," replies the hostess
+with a generous gesture. "Sleep as late as you
+like. This is 'Liberty Hall.'"</p>
+
+<p>The sentiment in this attitude is perfectly bully,
+but there is nothing that you can really take hold
+of in it. It satisfies at the time, but in the morning
+there is a vagueness about it that is simply terrifying.</p>
+
+<p>Let us say that you awake at eight. You listen
+and hear no one stirring. Then, over on the cool
+pillow again until eight-twenty. Again up on the
+elbow, with head cocked on one side. There is a
+creak in the direction of the stairs. They may all
+be up and going down to breakfast! It is but the
+work of a moment, to bound out of bed and listen
+at the door. Perhaps open it modestly and peer out.
+Deathlike silence, broken only, as the phrase goes,
+by the ticking of the hall clock, and not a soul
+in sight. Probably they are late sleepers. Maybe
+eleven o'clock is their Sunday rising hour. Some
+people <i>are</i> like that.</p>
+
+<p>Shut the door and sit on the edge of the bed.
+More sleep is out of the question. Let's take a look
+at the pictures in the guest-room, just to pass the
+time. Here's one of Lorna Doone. How d'e do,
+Lorna? Here's a group&mdash;taken in 1902&mdash;showing
+your host in evening clothes, holding a mandolin.
+Probably a member of his college musical-club.
+Rather unkempt looking bunch, you <i>must</i> say. Well,
+how about this one? An etching, showing suspicious-looking
+barges on what is probably the
+Thames. Fair enough, at that.</p>
+
+<p>Back to the door and listen again. Tick-tock-tick-tock.
+Probably, if you started your tub, you'd wake
+the whole house. Let's sit down on the edge of the
+bed again.</p>
+
+<p>Hello, here are some books on the table. "Fifty
+Famous Sonnets," illustrated by Maxfield Parrish.
+Never touch a sonnet before breakfast. "My experiences
+in the Alps," by a woman mountain-climber
+who has written on the fly-leaf, "To my good friends
+the Elbridges, in memory of many happy days together
+at Chamounix. October, 1907." That settles
+<i>that</i>. "Essay on Compensation" in limp leather,
+by R.W. Emerson, published by Houghton, Mifflin
+&amp; Co. Oh, very well! You suppose they thought
+that would be over your head, did they? Well, we'll
+just show them! We'll read it just for spite. Opening,
+to the red ribbon:</p>
+
+<p>"Of the like nature is that expectation of change
+which instantly follows the suspension of our voluntary
+activity. The terror of cloudless noon&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>By the way, it must be nearly noon now! Ten
+minutes past nine, only! Well, the only thing to
+do is get dressed and go out and walk about the
+grounds. Eliminate the tub as too noisy. And so,
+very cautiously, almost clandestinely, you proceed
+to dress.</p>
+
+<p>And now, just to reverse the process. Suppose
+you are the host. You have arisen at eight and listened
+at the guest's door. No sound. Tip-toe back
+and get dressed, talking in whispers to your wife
+(the hostess) and cramming flannel bears into the
+infant's mouth to keep him from disturbing the
+sleeper.</p>
+
+<p>"Bill looked tired last night. Better let him sleep
+a little longer," you suggest. And so, downstairs on
+your hands and knees, and look over the Sunday
+papers. Then a bracing walk on the porch, resulting
+in a terrific appetite.</p>
+
+<p>A glance at the watch shows nine o'clock. Sunday
+breakfast is usually at eight-thirty. The warm
+aroma of coffee creeps in from the kitchen and,
+somewhere, <i>some one</i> is baking muffins. This is
+awful! You suppose it feels something like this to
+be caught on an ice-floe without any food and so
+starve to death. Only there you can't smell coffee
+and muffins. You sneak into the dining-room and
+steal one of the property oranges from the side-board,
+but little Edgar sees you and sets up such
+a howl that you have to give it to him. The hostess
+suggests that your friend may have the sleeping-sickness.
+Weakened by hunger, you hotly resent
+this, and one word leads to another.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, very well, I'll go up and rout him out,"
+you snarl.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 432px;">
+<img src="images/img07_p037.jpg" width="432"
+alt="'Hello. Bill,' you say flatly." title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Upstairs again, and poise, in listening attitude,
+just in front of the guest's door. Slowly the door
+opens, inch by inch, and, finally his head is edged
+cautiously out toward yours.</p>
+
+<p>"Hello, Bill," you say flatly, "what are you getting
+up this time of the morning for? Thought
+I told you to sleep late."</p>
+
+<p>"Morning, Ed," he says, equally flatly, "hope
+I haven't kept you all waiting." Then you both lie
+and eat breakfast.</p>
+
+<p>Such a misunderstanding is apt to go to almost
+any length. I once knew of a man on a week-end
+visit who spent an entire Sunday in his room, listening
+at his door to see if the family were astir, while,
+in the meantime, the family were, one by one, tip-toeing
+to his door to see if they could detect any
+signs of life from him.</p>
+
+<p>Each thought the other needed rest.</p>
+
+<p>Along about three in the afternoon the family
+threw all hospitality aside and ate breakfast, deadening
+the sound of the cutlery as much as possible,
+little dreaming that their guest was looking through
+the "A Prayer for Each Day" calendar for the
+ninth time and seriously considering letting himself
+down from the window on a sheet and making for
+the next train. Shortly after dark persistent rumors
+got abroad that he had done away with himself,
+and every one went up and sniffed for gas. It was
+only when the maid, who was not in on the secret,
+bolted into the room to turn down his bed for the
+night, that she found him tip-toeing about, packing
+and unpacking his bag and listening eagerly at the
+wall. (Now don't ask how it happened that the
+maid didn't know that his bed hadn't been made
+that morning. What difference does it make, anyway?
+It is such questions as <i>that</i>, that blight any
+attempt at individual writing in this country.)</p>
+
+<p>Don't think, just because I have taken all this
+space to deal with the rising-hour problem that there
+are no other points to be made. Oh, not at all.
+There is, for instance, the question of exercise.
+After dinner the host says to himself: "Something
+must be done. I wonder if he likes to walk." Aloud,
+he says: "Well, Bill, how about a little hike in the
+country?"</p>
+
+<p>A hike in the country being the last thing in the
+world that Bill wants, he says, "Right-o! Anything
+you say." And so, although walking is a tremendous
+trial to the host, who has weak ankles, he
+bundles up with a great show of heartiness and grabs
+his stick as if this were the one thing he lived for.</p>
+
+<p>After about a mile of hobbling along the country-road
+the host says, hopefully: "Don't let me
+tire you out, old man. Any time you want to turn
+back, just say the word."</p>
+
+<p>The guest, thinking longingly of the fireside, scoffs
+at the idea of turning back, insisting that if there is
+one thing in all the world that he likes better than
+walking it is running. So on they jog, hippity-hop,
+hippity-hop, each wishing that it would rain so that
+they could turn about and go home.</p>
+
+<p>Here again the thing may go to almost tragic
+lengths. Suppose neither has the courage to suggest
+the return move. They might walk on into
+Canada, or they might become exhausted and have
+to be taken into a roadhouse and eat a "$2 old-fashioned
+Southern dinner of fried chicken and waffles."
+The imagination revolts at a further contemplation
+of the possibilities of this lack of coöperation
+between guest and host.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 445px;">
+<img src="images/img08_p040.jpg" width="445"
+alt="So on they jog.... Each wishing that it would rain." title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>I once visited a man who had an outdoor swimming-pool
+on his estate. (Consider that as very
+casually said.) It was in April, long before Spring
+had really understood what was expected of her.
+My first night there my host said:</p>
+
+<p>"Are you a morning plunger?"</p>
+
+<p>Thinking that he referred to a tub plunge in a
+warm bathroom, I glowed and said: "You bet."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll call for you at seven in the morning, then,"
+he said, "and we'll go out to the pool."</p>
+
+<p>It was evidently his morning custom and I wasn't
+going to have it said of me that a middle-aged man
+could outdo me in virility. So, at seven in the morning,
+in a dense fog (with now and then a slash of
+cold rain), we picked our way out to the pool and
+staged a vivid Siberian moving picture scene, showing
+naked peasants bathing in the Nevsky. My visit
+lasted five days, and I afterward learned, from one
+to whom my host had confided, that it was the
+worst five days he had ever gone through, and that
+he has chronic joint-trouble as a result of those
+plunges. "But I couldn't be outdone by a mere
+stripling," he said, "and the boy certainly enjoyed
+it."</p>
+
+<p>All of this might have been avoided by the posting
+of a sign in a conspicuous place in my bedroom,
+reading as follows: "Personally, I dislike swimming
+in the pool at this time of the year. Guests
+wishing to do so may obtain towels at the desk."
+How very simple and practical!</p>
+
+<p>The sign system is the only solution I can offer.
+It is crude and brutal, but it admits of no misunderstanding.
+A sign in each guest-room, giving
+the hours of meals, political and religious preferences
+of the family, general views on exercise, etc., etc.,
+with a blank for the guest to fill out, stating his own
+views on these subjects, would make it possible to
+visit (or entertain) with a sense of security thus
+far unknown upon our planet.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="V" id="V"></a>V</h3>
+
+<h4>GARDENING NOTES</h4>
+
+
+<p>During the past month almost every paper,
+with the exception of the agricultural journals,
+has installed an agricultural department, containing
+short articles by Lord Northcliffe, or some
+one else in the office who had an unoccupied typewriter,
+telling the American citizen how to start
+and hold the interest of a small garden. The seed
+catalogue has become the catechism of the patriot,
+and, if you don't like to read the brusk, prosy directions
+on planting as given there, you may find the
+same thing done in verse in your favorite poetry
+magazine, or a special department in <i>The Plumbing
+Age</i> under the heading "The Plumber's Garden:
+How and When to Plant."</p>
+
+<p>But all of these editorial suggestions appear to be
+conducted by professionals for the benefit of the
+layman, which seems to me to be a rather one-sided
+way of going about the thing. Obviously the suggestions
+should come from a layman himself, in the
+nature of warnings to others.</p>
+
+<p>I am qualified to put forth such an article because
+of two weeks' service in my own back yard,
+doing my bit for Peter Henderson and planting
+all sorts of things in the ground without the slightest
+expectation of ever seeing anything of any of
+them again. If, by any chance, a sprout should
+show itself, unmistakably the result of one of my
+plantings, I would be willing to be quoted as saying
+that Nature <i>is</i> wonderful. In fact, I would take it
+as a personal favor, and would feel that anything
+that I might do in the future for Nature would be
+little enough in return for the special work she went
+to all the trouble of doing for me. But all of this
+is on condition that something of mine grows into
+manhood. Otherwise, Nature can go her way and
+I go mine, just as we have gone up till now.</p>
+
+<p>However, although I am an amateur, I shall have
+to adopt, in my writing, the tone of a professional,
+or I shall never get any one to believe what I say.
+If, therefore, from now on I sound a bit cold and
+unfriendly, you will realize that a professional agricultural
+writer has to have <i>some</i> dignity about his
+stuff, and that beneath my rough exterior I am a
+pleasant enough sort of person to meet socially.</p>
+
+
+<p class="cap_ctr"><i>Preparing the Ground for the Garden</i></p>
+
+<p>This is one of the most important things that
+the young gardener is called upon to do. In fact,
+a great many young gardeners never do anything
+further. Some inherited weakness, something they
+never realized they had before, may crop out during
+this process: weak back, tendency of shoulder-blades
+to ossification, misplacement of several important
+vertebræ, all are apt to be discovered for
+the first time during the course of one day's digging.
+If, on the morning following the first attempt
+to prepare the ground for planting, you are able to
+walk in a semi-erect position as far as the bathtub
+(and, without outside assistance, lift one foot into
+the water), you may flatter yourself that you are,
+joint for joint, in as perfect condition as the man
+in the rubber-heels advertisements.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 418px;">
+<img src="images/img09_p045.jpg" width="418"
+alt="If you are able to walk as far as the bathtub..." title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Authorities differ as to the best way of digging.
+All agree that it is impossible to avoid walking
+about during the following week as if you were
+impersonating an old colored waiter with the lumbago;
+but there are two schools, each with its own
+theory, as to the less painful method. One advocates
+bending over, without once raising up, until the
+whole row is dug. The others, of whom I must confess
+that I am one, feel that it is better to draw
+the body to a more or less erect position after each
+shovelful. In support of this contention, Greitz,
+the well-known authority on the muscles of the back,
+says on page 233 of his "Untersuchungen über Sittlichkeitsdelikte
+und Gesellschaftsbiologie":</p>
+
+<p>"The constant tightening and relaxing of the
+<i>latissimus dorsi</i> effected in raising the body as the
+earth is tossed aside, has a tendency to relieve the
+strain by distributing it equally among the <i>serratus
+posticus inferior</i> and the corner of Thirty-fourth
+Street." He then goes on to say practically what
+I have said above.</p>
+
+<p>The necessity for work of such a strenuous
+nature in the mere preliminaries of the process of
+planting a garden is due to the fact that the average
+back-yard has, up till the present time, been
+behaving less like a garden than anything else in
+the world. You might think that a back-yard, possessed
+of an ordinary amount of decency and civic-pride
+would, at some time during its career, have
+said to itself:</p>
+
+<p>"Now look here! I may some day be called
+upon to be a garden, and the least I can do is to
+get myself into some sort of shape, so that, when
+the time comes, I will be fairly ready to receive a
+seed or two."</p>
+
+<p>But no! Year in and year out they have been
+drifting along in a fools' paradise, accumulating
+stones and queer, indistinguishable cans and things,
+until they were prepared to become anything, quarries,
+iron-mines, notion-counters,&mdash;anything but gardens.</p>
+
+<p>I have saved in a box all the things that I have
+dug from my back-yard, and, when I have them
+assembled, all I will need will be a good engine to
+make them into a pretty fairly decent runabout,&mdash;nothing
+elaborate, mind you, but good enough to run
+the family out in on Sunday afternoons.</p>
+
+<p>And then there are lots of other things that
+wouldn't even fit into the runabout. Queer-looking
+objects, they are; things that perhaps in their hey-dey
+were rather stunning, but which have now assumed
+an air of indifference, as if to say, "Oh, call
+me anything, old fellow, Ice-pick, Mainspring,
+Cigar-lighter, anything, I don't care." I tell you,
+it's enough to make a man stop and think. But
+there, I mustn't get sentimental.</p>
+
+<p>In preparing the soil for planting, you will need
+several tools. Dynamite would be a beautiful thing
+to use, but it would have a tendency to get the
+dirt into the front-hall and track up the stairs. This
+not being practicable, there is no other way but
+for you to get at it with a fork (oh, don' be silly),
+a spade, and a rake. If you have an empty and
+detached furnace boiler, you might bring that along
+to fill with the stones you will dig up. If it is a
+small garden, you ought not to have to empty the
+boiler more than three or four times. Any neighbor
+who is building a stone house will be glad to
+contract with you for the stones, and those that
+are left over after he has got his house built can
+be sold to another neighbor who is building another
+stone house. Your market is limited only
+by the number of neighbors who are building stone
+houses.</p>
+
+<p>On the first day, when you find yourself confronted
+by a stretch of untouched ground which is
+to be turned over (technical phrase, meaning to
+"turn over"), you may be somewhat at a loss to
+know where to begin. Such indecision is only natural,
+and should cause no worry on the part of the
+young gardener. It is something we all have to go
+through with. You may feel that it would be futile
+and unsystematic to go about digging up a forkful
+here and a shovelful there, tossing the earth at
+random, in the hope that in due time you will get
+the place dug up. And so it would.</p>
+
+<p>The thing to do is to decide just where you want
+your garden, and what its dimensions are to be.
+This will have necessitated a previous drawing up
+of a chart, showing just what is to be planted and
+where. As this chart will be the cause of considerable
+hard feeling in the family circle, usually
+precipitating a fist-fight over the number of rows
+of onions to be set out, I will not touch on that
+in this article. There are some things too intimate
+for even a professional agriculturist to write of. I
+will say, however, that those in the family who are
+standing out for onions might much better save
+their time and feelings by pretending to give in,
+and then, later in the day, sneaking out and slipping
+the sprouts in by themselves in some spot
+where they will know where to find them again.</p>
+
+<p>Having decided on the general plan and dimensions
+of the plot, gather the family about as if for
+a corner-stone dedication, and then make a rather
+impressive ceremony of driving in the first stake by
+getting your little boy to sing the first twelve words
+of some patriotic air. (If he doesn't know the first
+twelve, any twelve will do. The idea is to keep the
+music going during the driving of the stake.)</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 451px;">
+<img src="images/img10_p050.jpg" width="451"
+alt="Make a rather impressive ceremony of driving the first stake." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>The stake is to be driven at an imaginary corner
+of what is to be your garden, and a string stretched
+to another stake at another imaginary corner, and
+there you have a line along which to dig. This
+will be a big comfort. You will feel that at last
+you have something tangible. Now all that remains
+is to turn the ground over, harrow it, smooth it up
+nice and neat, plant your seeds, cultivate them, thin
+out your plants and pick the crops.</p>
+
+<p>It may seem that I have spent most of my time
+in advice on preparing the ground for planting.
+Such may well be the case, as that was as far
+as I got. I then found a man who likes to do
+those things and whose doctor has told him that
+he ought to be out of doors all the time. He is an
+Italian, and charges really very little when you
+consider what he accomplishes. Any further advice
+on starting and keeping up a garden, I shall have
+to get him to write for you.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="VI" id="VI"></a>VI</h3>
+
+<h4>LESSON NUMBER ONE</h4>
+
+
+<p>Frankly, I am not much of a hand at machinery
+of any sort. I have no prejudice
+against it as such, for some of my best friends are
+of a mechanical turn of mind, and very nice fellows
+they are too. But the pencil sharpener in our
+office is about as far as I, personally, have ever got
+in the line of operating a complicated piece of mechanism
+with any degree of success.</p>
+
+<p>So, when George suggested that he teach me to
+run his car, it seemed a reasonable proposition. Obviously,
+<i>some one</i> had to teach me. I couldn't be
+expected to go out and pick the thing up by myself,
+like learning to eat olives. No matter how well-intentioned
+I might be, or how long I stuck at it,
+the chances are that I never could learn to drive
+a car simply by sitting in the seat alone and fooling
+around among the gadgets until I found the
+right ones. Something would be sure to happen
+to spoil the whole thing long before I got the hang
+of it.</p>
+
+<p>The car was, therefore, brought out into the
+driveway at the side of the house, like a bull being
+led into the ring for a humid afternoon with the
+matador. It was right here that George began to
+show his true colors, for he stopped the engine,
+which was running very nicely as it was, and said
+that I might as well begin by learning to crank
+it, as I probably would spend seven-eighths of my
+driving time cranking in the future.</p>
+
+<p>I didn't like this in George. It showed that he
+wasn't going about it in the right spirit. He was
+beginning with the assumption that I would make
+a dub of myself, and, as I was already beginning
+to assume the same thing, it looked rather black
+for the lesson, with both parties to it holding the
+same pessimistic thought.</p>
+
+<p>So, right off the bat, I said:</p>
+
+<p>"No, George. It seems to me that you ought to
+crank it yourself. To-day I am learning to <i>drive</i>
+the car. 'One thing at a time' is my motto. That
+is what has brought our modern industrial system
+to its present state of efficiency: the Division of
+Labor&mdash;one man who does nothing but make holes
+in washers, another who does nothing but slip the
+washers over the dinguses over which they belong;
+one man who devotes his whole time to running
+a car, another who specializes in cranking it. Now,
+in the early days of industry, when the guild was
+the unit of organization among the workers&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>George, having cranked the engine, motioned me
+into the driver's seat, and took his position beside
+me. It struck me that the thing was very poorly
+arranged, in that the place which was to be occupied
+by the driver, obviously the most important
+person in the car (except, of course, the lady member
+of the party in the tonneau, who holds the bluebook
+and gives wrong directions as to turnings), was all
+cluttered up with a lot of apparatus and pedals and
+things, so much so that I had to inhale and contract
+in order to squeeze past the wheel into my seat.
+And even then I was forced to stretch one leg out
+so far that I kicked a little gadget on a box arrangement
+on the dashboard, which apparently
+stopped the engine. As he cranked it again, George
+said, among other things, that it couldn't possibly
+have been done except on purpose, and that he
+could take a joke as well as the next man, but
+that, good night, what was the use of being an
+ass?</p>
+
+<p>As if I, with no mechanical instinct whatever,
+knew what was in that box! I don't know even now,
+and I have got my driver's license.</p>
+
+<p>George finally got things stirring again and
+climbed in, leaving the door partly open no doubt
+in order that, in case of emergency, he could walk,
+not run, to the street via the nearest exit.</p>
+
+<p>"The gear set of this car is of the planetary
+type," he said, by way of opening the seminar, while
+the motor behaved as if it were trying to jiggle
+its way out from under the cushions and bite me.
+"This planetary system gives two forward speeds
+and a reverse motion."</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 432px;">
+<img src="images/img11_p055.jpg" width="432"
+alt="George said that he could take a joke, but that, good night!
+what was the use of being an ass?" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>"Nothing could be fairer than that. It sounds
+like an almost perfect arrangement to me," I said,
+to show that I was listening. And then, to show
+that I was thinking about the thing as well, I asked:
+"But surely you don't have to pedal the thing along
+yourself by foot power! All those pedals down
+there would seem to leave very little for the gasoline
+power to do."</p>
+
+<p>"Those three pedals are what do the trick," explained
+George. And then he added ominously: "If
+you should step on that left-hand one now, you
+would throw in your clutch."</p>
+
+<p>"Please, George, don't get morbid," I protested.
+"I'm nervous enough as it is, without having to
+worry about my own bodily safety."</p>
+
+<p>"The middle pedal, marked 'R,' is the reverse,
+and the one at the right, marked 'B,' is the foot
+brake. Now, when you want to start&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Just a minute, please," I said sternly. "You
+skip over those as if there were something about
+them you were a little ashamed of, George. Are
+you keeping something from me about the reverse
+and the foot brake?"</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't know but that somewhere in your valuable
+college course they taught you what 'reverse'
+meant, and I was sure that your little son had told
+you all about the foot brake on his express wagon,"
+said George, waxing sarcastic in the manner of the
+technical man that he is.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't want you to take anything for granted
+in teaching me to run this thing," I replied. "It
+is those little things that count, you know, and I
+would feel just as badly as you would if I were to
+run your car over a cliff into a rocky gorge because
+of some detail that I was uninformed about.
+You know that, George."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well," he said, "I'll get down to fundamentals.
+When you push the reverse pedal, you
+drive the car in the opposite direction from that
+in which it is headed. This is done by tightening
+the external contracting clutch bands which are
+between the gearing and the disk clutch."</p>
+
+<p>Somehow this struck me as funny. The idea of
+reversing by tightening <i>any</i> bands at all, much less
+external contracting ones, was the one thing needed
+to send me off into roars of laughter. The whole
+thing seemed so flat, after the excitement of the
+war, and everything.</p>
+
+<p>Naturally George didn't get it. It was 'way over
+his head, and I knew that there would be no use
+trying to explain it to him. So I just continued to
+chuckle and murmur: "External contracting clutch
+bands! You'll be the death of me yet, George!"</p>
+
+<p>But I felt that, as the minutes went by, the situation
+was getting strained. My instructor and I
+were growing farther and farther apart in spirit,
+and, after all, it was his car and he was going to
+considerable trouble to teach me to run it, and the
+least that I could do would be to take him seriously,
+whether the thing struck me as being sensible or not.</p>
+
+<p>So I calmed myself with some effort, and tried
+to bring the conversation around to an opening for
+him to begin with further explanations.</p>
+
+<p>"But, all joking aside, George, how can you be
+so sure about these things? You say that when you
+push the reverse pedal you tighten the external contracting
+clutch bands. Did you ever see them
+tighten? Or were you taking some one's word for it?
+Remember how the German people were deceived
+for years by their rulers! Now supposing&mdash;just
+supposing&mdash;that it had been to some unscrupulous
+person's advantage to make you think that the&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Now, listen, Bob," said George (my name <i>is</i>
+Bob, and I see no reason why, simply because I am
+writing a piece about myself, I should make believe
+that my name is Stuart or Will, especially
+as it is right there in black and white at the head
+of the story. This assuming new names on the part
+of authors is a literary affectation which ought to
+be done away with once and for all). "Now, listen,
+Bob," said George, very quietly and very distinctly,
+"the only thing for you to do if you are going to
+learn to run this thing, is to get right down to brass
+tacks and <i>run</i> it, and the sooner you try it, the
+better."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you practical guys!" I said. "Nothing will
+do but you must always be getting down to brass
+tacks. It's men like you who are driving all the
+poetry out of the world."</p>
+
+<p>"You flatter me," said George, reaching bruskly
+across me as if he were after the salt and pepper,
+and adjusting a couple of dingbats on the steering
+wheel. "This here is the spark, and this is the
+throttle. The throttle governs the gas supply, and
+the spark regulates the&mdash;eh, well, it regulates the
+spark."</p>
+
+<p>"What won't these scientists think up next?" I
+marveled. "It's uncanny, that's what it is&mdash;uncanny."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Now</i>, then: hold your foot on the clutch pedal
+and keep her in neutral, while you shove your hand
+lever forward as far as it will go. <i>That's</i> right!...
+That's fine ... 'way forward ... now ... <i>that's</i>
+right ... that's fine!"</p>
+
+<p>I was so encouraged by the way things seemed
+to be going that I took all my feet away from all
+the things they were stepping on, and sighed:</p>
+
+<p>"Let's rest a minute, old man. I'm all of a
+tremble. It's much easier than I thought, but I'd
+rather take it stage by stage than to dash right
+off the first thing."</p>
+
+<p>The trouble seemed to be that, in lifting my feet,
+I had discouraged the motor, which sighed and
+stopped functioning, giving the car a playful shake,
+like an Erie local stopping at Babbitt (N.J.) on
+signal. So George said that, in the future, no matter
+how well things seemed to be going, never to
+give in to my emotions again, but keep right on
+working, even though it looked as if I were in danger
+of becoming an expert driver in three minutes.
+There is always something to learn, he said. Then
+he got out and cranked the engine.</p>
+
+<p>We went through the same process again, only
+I kept my foot on the vox humana pedal until I
+had crammed it 'way into fortissimo. Then suddenly
+a wonderful thing happened. The whole
+thing&mdash;car, engine, George, and I&mdash;began to move,
+all together. It was a big moment in my life. I
+could see the headlines in the evening papers:</p>
+
+<p class="center">YOUNG SCRIBE OVERCOMES NATURAL LAWS<br />
+Causes Auto to Move by Pushing Pedal</p>
+
+
+<p>But this elation was for only a moment. For,
+while we had been arguing, some one had sneaked
+up in front of us and transplanted the hydrangea
+bush from the lawn at our side to the very middle
+of the driveway, a silly place for a hydrangea bush
+at best, but an absolutely fatal one at the moment
+when an automobile was being driven through the
+yard.</p>
+
+<p>It was but the work of a second for me to sense
+the danger. It was but the work of half a second,
+however, for us to be rustling our way slowly and
+lumberingly into the luxuriant foliage of the bush.
+So I was just about half a second late, which I do
+not consider bad for a beginner.</p>
+
+<p>"Put on your brake!" shouted George.</p>
+
+<p>Quick as a wink (one of those long sensuous
+winks) I figured out which the brake was, by finding
+the symbolical "B" on the pedal. Like a
+trained mechanician I stepped on it.</p>
+
+<p>"Release your clutch first, you poor fish!"
+screamed George, above the horrible grinding noise.
+"Release your clutch!"</p>
+
+<p>This was more than flesh and blood could bear.
+Again I relieved my feet from any responsibility in
+the affair, and turned to my instructor.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't <i>shout</i> so!" I yelled back at him. "And
+don't keep calling it <i>my</i> clutch! It may be because
+I was brought up in a Puritan family, but the whole
+subject of clutches is a closed book to me. If it
+is something I should know about, you can tell
+me when we get in the house. But, for the present,
+let's drop the matter. At any rate, I stopped
+your darn car, clutch, or no clutch."</p>
+
+<p>And so I had. There we were, in the middle of
+the hydrangea bush, very quiet and peaceful, like
+a couple of birds in a bird house atop of rustling
+oak (or maple, for that matter). Even the engine
+had stopped.</p>
+
+<p>I reached out and plucked a blossom that was
+peeking over the dashboard where the whip socket
+should have been. After all, there is no place like
+the country. I said so to George, and he tacitly
+agreed. At least, I took it to be agreement. It was
+certainly tacit. I was afraid that he was a little
+hurt over what I had said about the clutch, and
+so I decided that it might be best not to mention
+the subject again. In fact, it seemed wiser to get
+away from the topic of automobiles entirely. So I
+said softly:</p>
+
+<p>"George, did it ever occur to you how the war
+has changed our daily life? Not only have we
+had to alter our methods of provisioning our tables
+and feeding our families, but we have acquired
+a certain detachment of mind, a certain new
+sufficiency of spirit."</p>
+
+<p>(We had both alighted from the car and had
+placed ourselves, one on each side, to roll it out
+of the embraces of the hydrangea bush.)</p>
+
+<p>"I have been reading a book during the past
+week on Problems of Reconstruction," I continued,
+"and I have been impressed by the thought which
+is being given to the development of the waste lands
+in the West."</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 449px;">
+<img src="images/img12_p063.jpg" width="449"
+alt="After all, there is no place like the country. I said so to
+George, and he tacilty agreed." title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>(We had, by this time, got the car rolled out
+into the driveway again.)</p>
+
+<p>"The problem of the children, too, is an absorbing
+one for the years which lie ahead of us.
+We cannot go back to the old methods of child
+training, any more than we can go back to the
+old methods of diplomacy. The war has created
+a hiatus. That which follows will depend on the
+zeal with which America applies herself to her task
+of rehabilitation."</p>
+
+<p>(The machine was now moored in her parking
+space by the porte-cochère, and the brakes applied.)</p>
+
+<p>"It seems to me that we are living in a great
+period of transition; doesn't it look that way to
+you, George?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said George.</p>
+
+<p>And so we went into the house.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="VII" id="VII"></a>VII</h3>
+
+<h4>THOUGHTS ON FUEL SAVING</h4>
+
+
+<p>Considerable space has been given in the
+magazines and newspapers this winter to official
+and expert directions on How to Run Your
+Furnace and Save Coal&mdash;as if the two things were
+compatible. Some had accompanying diagrams of
+a furnace in its normal state, showing the exact
+position of the arteries and vitals, with arrows pointing
+in interesting directions, indicating the theoretical
+course of the heat.</p>
+
+<p>I have given some time to studying these charts,
+and have come to the conclusion that when the authors
+of such articles and I speak the word "furnace,"
+we mean entirely different things. They are
+referring to some idealized, sublimated creation; perhaps
+the "furnace" which existed originally in the
+mind of Horace W. Furnace, the inventor; while,
+on the other hand, I am referring to the thing that
+is in my cellar. No wonder that I can't understand
+their diagrams.</p>
+
+<p>For my own satisfaction, therefore, I have drawn
+up a few regulations which I can understand, and
+have thrown them together most informally for
+whatever they may be worth. Any one else who
+has checked up the official furnace instructions with
+Life as it really is and has found something wrong
+somewhere may go as far as he likes with the results
+of my researches. I give them to the world.</p>
+
+<p>Saving coal is, just now, the chief concern of most
+householders, for we are now entering that portion
+of the solstice when it is beginning to be necessary
+to walk some distance into the bin after the
+coal. When first the list of official admonitions
+were issued, early in the season, it was hard
+to believe that they ever would be needed. The
+bin was so full that it resembled a drug-store window
+piled high with salted peanuts. (As a matter
+of actual fact, there is probably nothing that coal
+looks <i>less</i> like than salted peanuts, but the effect of
+tremendous quantity was the same.) Adventurous
+pieces were fairly popping out of confinement and
+rolling over the cellar. It seemed as if there were
+enough coal there to give the <i>Leviathan</i> a good run
+for her money and perhaps take her out as far as
+Bedloe Island. A fig for coal-saving devices!</p>
+
+<p>But now the season is well on, and the bad news
+is only too apparent. The householder, as he finds
+himself walking farther and farther into the bin
+after the next shovelful, realizes that soon will come
+the time when it will be necessary to scrape the
+leavings into a corner, up against the side of the bin,
+and to coal his fire, piece by piece, between his finger
+and thumb, while waiting for the dealer to deliver
+that next load, "right away, probably to-day, to-morrow
+at the latest."</p>
+
+<p>It is therefore essential that we turn constructive
+thought to the subject of coal conservation. I would
+suggest, in the first place, an exact aim in shoveling
+coal into the fire box.</p>
+
+<p>By this I mean the cultivation of an exact aim in
+shoveling coal into the fire box. In my own case (if
+I may be permitted to inject the personal element
+into this article for one second), I know that it
+often happens that, when I have a large shovelful of
+coal in readiness for the fire, and the door to the
+fire box open as wide as it will go, there may be,
+nevertheless, the variation of perhaps an eighth
+of an inch between the point where the shovel
+should have ended the arc in its forward swing and
+the point at which it actually stops. In less technical
+phraseology, I sometimes tick the edge of the
+shovel against the threshold of the fire box, instead
+of shooting it over as should be done. Now,
+as I usually take a rather long, low swing, with
+considerable power behind it (if I do say so), the
+sudden contact of the shovel with the threshold results
+in a forceful projection of the many pieces
+of coal (and whatever else it is that comes with the
+coal for good measure) into all corners of the cellar.
+I have seen coal fly from my shovel under
+such circumstances with such velocity as to land
+among the preserves at the other end of the cellar
+and in the opposite direction from which I was
+facing.</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 432px;">
+<img src="images/img13_p068.jpg" width="432"
+alt="In less technical language, I sometimes tick the edge of the
+shovel against the threshold of the fire box." title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Now, this is obviously a waste of coal. It would
+be impossible to stoop all about the cellar picking
+up the vagrant pieces that had flown away,
+even if the blow of the shovel against the furnace
+had not temporarily paralyzed your hand and caused
+you to devote your entire attention to the coining
+of new and descriptive word pictures.</p>
+
+<p>I would suggest, for this trouble, the taking of a
+"stance" in front of the fire box, with perhaps chalk
+markings for guidance of the feet at just the right
+distance away. Then a series of preparatory swings,
+as in driving off in golf, first with the empty shovel,
+then with a gradually increasing amount of coal.
+The only danger in this would be that you might
+bring the handle of the shovel back against an ash
+can or something behind you and thus spill about
+as much coal as before. But there, there&mdash;if you
+are going to borrow trouble like that, you might as
+well give up right now.</p>
+
+<p>Another mishap of a somewhat similar nature
+occurs when a shovelful of ashes from under the
+grate is hit against the projecting shaker, causing
+the ashes to scatter over the floor and the shoes.
+This is a very discouraging thing to have happen,
+for, as the ashes are quite apt to contain at least
+three or four pieces of unburnt coal, it means that
+those pieces are as good as lost unless you have
+time to hunt them up. It also means shining the
+shoes again.</p>
+
+<p>I find that an efficacious preventive for this is to
+take the shaker off when it is not in use and stand
+it in the corner. There the worst thing that it can
+do is to fall over against your shins when you are
+rummaging around for the furnace-bath-brush
+among the rest of the truck that hangs on the
+wall.</p>
+
+<p>And, by the way, there are at least two pieces of
+long-handled equipment hanging on my cellar wall
+(items in the estate of the former tenant, who must
+have been a fancier of some sort) whose use I have
+never been able to figure out. I have tried them on
+various parts of the furnace at one time or another,
+but, as there is not much of anything that one on
+the outside of a furnace can do but <i>poke</i>, it seems
+rather silly to have half a dozen niblick-pokers and
+midiron-pokers with which to do it. One of these,
+resembling in shape a bridge, such as is used on all
+occasions by novices at pool, I experimented with
+one night and got it so tightly caught in back of
+the grate somewhere that I had to let the fire go out
+and take the dead coals out, piece by piece, through
+the door in order to get at the captive instrument
+and release it. And, of course, all this experimenting
+wasted coal.</p>
+
+<p>The shaker is, however, an important factor in
+keeping the furnace going, for it is practically the
+only recourse in dislodging clinkers which have become
+stuck in the grate&mdash;that is, unless you can kick
+the furnace hard enough to shake them down. I
+have, in moments when, I am afraid, I was not
+quite myself, kicked the furnace with considerable
+force, but I never could see that it had any effect
+on the clinker. This, however, is no sign that it
+can't be done. I would be the first one to wish
+a man well who did it.</p>
+
+<p>But, ordinarily, the shaker is the accepted agent
+for teaching the clinker its place. And, in the fancy
+assorted coal in vogue this season (one-third coal,
+one-third slate, and one-third rock candy) clinkers
+are running the combustible matter a slightly better
+than even race. This problem is, therefore, one
+which must be faced.</p>
+
+<p>I find that a great deal of satisfaction, if not tangible
+results, can be derived from personifying the
+furnace and the recalcitrant clinker, and endowing
+them with human attributes, such as fear, chagrin,
+and susceptibility to physical and mental pain. In
+this fanciful manner the thing can be talked to as
+if it were a person, in this way lending a zest to
+the proceedings which would be entirely lacking in
+a contest with an inanimate object.</p>
+
+<p>Thus, when it is discovered that the grate is
+stuck, you can say, <i>sotto voce</i>:</p>
+
+<p>"Ho, ho! you *********! So that's your
+game, is it?"</p>
+
+<p>(I would not attempt to dictate the particular
+epithets. Each man knows so much better than
+any one else just what gives him the most comfort
+in this respect that it would be presumptuous
+to lay down any formula. Personally, I have a
+wonderful set of remarks and proper names which
+I picked up one summer from a lobster man in
+Maine, which for soul-satisfying blasphemy are absolutely
+unbeatable. I will be glad to furnish this
+set to any one sending a stamped, self-addressed
+envelope.)</p>
+
+<p>You then seize the shaker with both hands and
+give it a vicious yank, muttering between your
+teeth:</p>
+
+<p>"We'll see, my fine fellow! We'll see!"</p>
+
+<p>This is usually very effective in weakening the
+morale of the clinker, for it then realizes right at
+the start that it is pitted against a man who is not
+to be trifled with.</p>
+
+<p>This should be followed by several short and
+powerful yanks, punctuated on the catch of each
+stroke with a muttered: "You *********!"</p>
+
+<p>If you are short of wind, the force of this ejaculation
+may diminish as the yanks increase in number,
+in which case it will be well to rest for a few
+seconds.</p>
+
+<p>At this point a little strategy may be brought
+to bear. You can turn away, as if you were defeated,
+perhaps saying loudly, so that the clinker
+can hear: "Ho-hum! Well, I guess I'll call it a
+day," and pretend to start upstairs.</p>
+
+<p>Then, quick as a wink, you should turn and leap
+back at the shaker, and, before the thing can recover
+from its surprise, give it a yank which will
+either rip it from its moorings or cause your own
+vertebræ to change places with a sharp click. It is
+a fifty-fifty chance.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 440px;">
+<img src="images/img14_p073.jpg" width="440"
+alt="Quick as a wink you should turn and leap back at the shaker." title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>But great caution should be observed before trying
+these heroic measures to make sure that the pins
+which hold the shaker in place are secure. A loosened
+pin will stand just so much shaking, and then
+it will unostentatiously work its way out and look
+around for something else to do. This always causes
+an awkward situation, for the yank next following
+the walkout of the pin, far from accomplishing its
+purpose of dispossessing the clinker, will precipitate
+you over backward among the ash cans with a
+viciousness in which it is impossible not to detect
+something personal.</p>
+
+<p>Immediately following such a little upset to one's
+plans, it is perhaps the natural impulse to arise in
+somewhat of a pet and to set about exacting punitive
+indemnities. This does not pay in the end.
+If you hit any exposed portion of the furnace with
+the shaker the chances are that you will break
+it, which, while undoubtedly very painful to the
+furnace at the time, would eventually necessitate
+costly repairs. And, if you throw coal at it, you
+waste coal. This, if you remember, is an article on
+how to save coal.</p>
+
+<p>Another helpful point is to prevent the fire from
+going out. This may be accomplished in one way
+that I am sure of. That is, by taking a book, or
+a ouija board, or some other indoor entertainment
+downstairs and sitting two feet away from the furnace
+all day, being relieved by your wife at night
+(or, needless to say, vice versa). I have never
+known this method of keeping the fire alive to
+fail, except when the watcher dropped off to sleep
+for ten or fifteen minutes. This is plenty of time
+for a raging fire to pass quietly away, and I can
+prove it.</p>
+
+<p>Of course this treatment cuts in on your social
+life, but I know of nothing else that is infallible.
+I know of nothing else that can render impossible
+that depressing foreboding given expression by
+your wife when she says: "Have you looked at the
+fire lately? It's getting chilly here," followed by
+the apprehensive trip downstairs, eagerly listening
+for some signs of caloric life from within the
+asbestos-covered tomb; the fearful pause before
+opening the door, hoping against hope that the next
+move will disclose a ruddy glow which can easily be
+nursed back to health, but feeling, in the intuitive
+depths of your soul, that you might just as well
+begin crumpling up last Sunday's paper to ignite,
+for the Grim Reaper has passed this way.</p>
+
+<p>And then the cautious pull at the door, opening
+it inch by inch, until the bitter truth is disclosed&mdash;a
+yawning cavern of blackness with the dull, gray
+outlines of consumed coals in the foreground, a dismal
+double-play: ashes to ashes.</p>
+
+<p>These little thoughts on furnace tending and coal
+conservation are not meant to be taken as in any
+sense final. Some one else may have found the
+exact converse to be true; in which case he would
+do well to make a scientific account of it as I have
+done. It helps to buy coal.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="VIII" id="VIII"></a>VIII</h3>
+
+<h4>NOT ACCORDING TO HOYLE</h4>
+
+
+<p>I have just finished reading an article by an expert
+in auction bridge, and it has left me in a
+cold sweat. As near as I can make out, it presupposes
+that every one who plays bridge knows what
+he is doing before he does it, which simply means
+that I have been going along all this time working
+on exactly the wrong theory. It may incidentally
+explain why I have never been voted the most
+popular bridge player in Wimblehurst or presented
+with a loving cup by admiring members of the
+Neighborhood Club.</p>
+
+<p>Diametrically opposed to the system of "think-before-you-play,"
+advocated by this expert, my game
+has been built up purely on intuition. I rely almost
+entirely on the inner promptings of the moment in
+playing a card. I don't claim that there is anything
+spiritualistic about it, for it does not work out with
+consistent enough success to be in any way uncanny.
+As a matter of fact, it causes me a lot of trouble.
+When one relies on instinct to remind one of what
+the trumps are, or how many of them have been
+played, there is bound to be a slip-up every so often.</p>
+
+<p>But what chagrins me, after reading the expert's
+article, is the thought that all this while I may have
+been playing with people who were actually thinking
+the thing out beforehand in a sordid sort of way,
+counting the trumps played and figuring on who had
+the queen or where the ten-spot lay. I didn't think
+there were such people in the world.</p>
+
+<p>Here I have been going ahead, in an honest,
+hail-fellow-well-met mood, sometimes following suit,
+sometimes trumping my partner's trick, always taking
+it for granted that the idea was to get the hand
+played as quickly as possible in order to talk it over
+and tell each other how it might have been done
+differently.</p>
+
+<p>It is true that, now and again, I have noticed
+sharp looks directed at me by my various partners,
+but I have usually attributed them to a little mannerism
+I have of humming softly while playing, and
+I have always stopped humming whenever my partner
+showed signs of displeasure, being perfectly
+willing to meet any one halfway in an effort to
+make the evening a pleasant one for all concerned.
+But now I am afraid that perhaps the humming
+was only a minor offense. I am appalled at the
+thought of what really was the trouble.</p>
+
+<p>I should never have allowed myself to be dragged
+into it at all. My first big mistake was made when,
+in a moment of weakness, I consented to learn the
+game; for a man who can frankly say "I do not
+play bridge" is allowed to go over in the corner
+and run the pianola by himself, while the poor
+neophyte, no matter how much he may protest that
+he isn't "at all a good player, in fact, I'm perfectly
+rotten," is never believed, but dragged into a game
+where it is discovered, too late, that he spoke the
+truth.</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 334px;">
+<img src="images/img15_p079.jpg" width="334"
+alt="Attributed them to a little mannerism
+I have of humming softly while playing." title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>But it was a family affair at first. Dora belonged
+to a whist club which met every Friday afternoon
+on strictly partizan lines, except for once a year,
+when they asked the men in. My experience with
+this organization had been necessarily limited, as
+it held its sessions during my working hours. Once
+in a while, however, I would get home in time to
+meet in the front hall the stragglers who were just
+leaving, amid a general searching for furs and over-shoes,
+and for some unaccountable reason I usually
+felt very foolish on such occasions. Certainly
+I had a right, under the Common Law, to be coming
+in my own front door, but I always had a sneaking
+feeling, there in the midst of the departing guests,
+that the laugh was on me.</p>
+
+<p>One Friday, when I was confined to my room with
+a touch of neuralgia (it was in my face, if you are
+interested, and the whole right side swelled up until
+it was twice its normal size&mdash;I'd like to tell you more
+about it some time), I could hear the sounds of
+carnival going on downstairs. The noises made by
+women playing bridge are distinctive. At first the
+listener is aware of a sort of preliminary conversational
+murmur, with a running accompaniment of
+shuffling pasteboards. Then follows an unnatural
+quiet, punctuated by the thud of jeweled knuckles
+or the clank of bracelets as the cards are played
+against the baize, with now and then little squeals
+of dismay or delight from some of the more demonstrative
+and an occasional "Good for you, partner!"
+from an appreciative dummy. Gradually, as the
+hand draws toward its close, there begins a low
+sound, like the murmurings of the stage mob in
+the wings, which rapidly increases, until the room
+is filled with a shrill chatter, resembling that in the
+Bird House in Central Park, from which there is
+distinguishable merely a wild medley:</p>
+
+<p>"If you had led me your queen&mdash;was so afraid
+she might trump in with&mdash;my dear, I didn't have a
+face card in my&mdash;threw away just the wrong&mdash;had
+the jack, 10, 9, and 7&mdash;thought Alice had the
+king&mdash;ace and three little ones&mdash;how about honors?&mdash;my
+dear, <i>simply</i> frightful&mdash;if you had returned my
+lead&mdash;my <i>dear</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>This listening in at bridge, however, was the nearest
+I had ever been to the front, until it came time
+for the Friday Afternoon Club to let down the bars
+and have a Men's Night. I had no illusions about
+this "Men's Night," but it was a case of my learning
+to play bridge and accompanying Dora, or of
+her getting some man in from off the sidewalk to
+take my place, and I figured that it would cause less
+talk if I were there to play myself. As I think it
+over now, I feel that the strange-man scheme might
+have worked out with less comment being made than
+my playing drew down.</p>
+
+<p>But it was for this purpose that I allowed myself
+to be instructed in the rudiments of bridge. I had
+nothing permanent in mind in absorbing these principles,
+fully expecting to forget them again the day
+after the party. I miscalculated by about one day,
+it now seems.</p>
+
+<p>The expert, whose article has been such an inspiration
+to me, had some neat little diagrams drawn
+for him, showing just where the cards lay in the
+four hands, and with the players indicated as A,
+B, Y, and Z; apparently the same people, come up
+in the world, who, in our algebras some years ago,
+used to buy and sell apples to each other with feverish
+commercialism and to run races with all sorts
+of unfair handicaps. What a small world it is,
+after all!</p>
+
+<p>It seems to me, therefore, that, since this is a
+pretty fairly technical article, it might be well if I
+were to utilize the same diagrammatic device and
+terse method of description, to show the exact course
+of the first hand in which I participated at the party.</p>
+
+<p>A and B are our opponents, X my partner, and
+I (oddly enough) myself. A is Ralph Thibbets, one
+of those cool devils who think they know all about
+a game, and usually do. He has an irritating way
+of laying down his cards, when the hand is about
+half played, and saying: "Well, the rest are mine,"
+and the most irritating part of it all is that, when
+you have insisted on figuring it out for yourself, he
+is found to be right. I disliked him from the first.</p>
+
+<p>B is Mrs. Lucas, who breathes hard and says
+nothing, but clanks her cards down with finality,
+seeming to say: "That for you!" She got me
+nervous.</p>
+
+<p>X, my partner, used to be a good friend of mine.
+And, so far as I am concerned, I would be perfectly
+willing to let bygones be bygones and be on
+friendly terms again.</p>
+
+<p>In utilizing the expert's method of description, I
+shall improve on it slightly by also indicating the
+conversation accompanying each play, a feature
+which is of considerable importance in a game.</p>
+
+<p>B deals, and finally makes it three diamonds, after
+X has tried to bid hearts without encouragement
+from me. I pass as a matter of principle, not being
+at all sure of this bidding proposition.</p>
+
+<p>I lead, with a clear field and no particular object
+in view, the 8 of diamonds. It looks as uncompromising
+as any card in my hand. "Leading
+<i>trumps</i>," says X with a raising of the eyebrows.
+"What do you know about that!" I exclaim. "I
+had forgotten that they were trumps. I must be
+asleep. Like the old Irishman when St. Peter asked
+him where he came from, and he said: 'Begorra&mdash;'"
+A cuts this story short by playing the 3 of diamonds;
+X, with some asperity, discards the 3 of
+spades, and B takes the trick with the 10-spot.
+Silence.</p>
+
+<p>"That story of the Irishman and St. Peter," I
+continue, "was told to me by a fellow in Buffalo
+last week who had just come from France. He
+said that while he was in a place called 'Mousong,'
+or 'Mousang,' he actually saw&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Your play," says X. "Oh, I beg your pardon,"
+I say, "whose jack of spades is that?" "Mine,"
+says B, drumming on the table with her finger
+nails and looking about the room at the pictures.
+Having more poor diamonds than anything else in
+my hand, and aiming to get them out of the way
+as soon as possible to give the good cards a chance,
+I play the 5 of diamonds.</p>
+
+<p>"What, trumping it? Have you no spades?"
+shouts A. I can see that I have him rattled; so,
+although, as a matter of fact, I have got plenty of
+spades, I smile knowingly and sit tight. These
+smart Alecs make me sick, telling me what I should
+play and what I should not play. A accepts the
+inevitable and plays his 2-spot. X, considerably
+cheered up, plays the 4 and says: "Our trick,
+partner." I pick up the cards and mix them with
+those already in my hand, reverting, for the time,
+to poker tactics. This error, alone among all that
+I make during the game, is unobserved.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I suppose that you people are all excited
+over that new baby up at your house," I say
+pleasantly to A, just to show him that I can be
+gracious in victory as well as in defeat. "Let's
+see, is it a boy or a girl?"</p>
+
+<p>"It's <i>your lead</i>!" he replies shortly.</p>
+
+<p>"I beg your pardon," I say; "I certainly must be
+asleep to-night." And, as my thumb is on the 5
+of diamonds, I lead it.</p>
+
+<p>"Here, here!" says A, "wasn't it the 5 of
+diamonds that you trumped in with just a minute
+ago?" That man has second-sight. As a matter
+of fact, I suspect that there is something crooked
+about him. "Yes, it is," corroborates B in her longest
+speech of the evening. X says: "Where <i>is</i> that
+trick that we took?" And then it is discovered
+that it has found its way into my hand, from which
+it is disentangled with considerable trouble and
+segregated. As for me, I pass the whole thing
+off as a joke.</p>
+
+<p>"I saw in the paper this morning," I began
+when the situation has become a little less complicated,
+"where a woman in Perth Amboy found a
+hundred dollars in the lining of an old lounge in&mdash;"</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 435px;">
+<img src="images/img16_p086.jpg" width="435"
+alt="'Here, here!' says A, 'wasn't it the 5 of
+diamonds that you trumped in with just a minute
+ago?'" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>"It's your lead, if you don't mind," says A very
+distinctly. "You have made only one false start
+out of a possible three. Try again." I pretend not
+to hear this sarcasm, and, just to show him that
+there is life in the old dog yet, I lead my ace of
+spades.</p>
+
+<p>"Look here, my dear sir!" says A, quite upset
+by now. "Only one hand ago you refused spades
+and trumped them. That revoking on your part
+gives us three tricks and we throw up the hand."</p>
+
+<p>"Fair enough," I retort cheerfully, "three is just
+what you bid, isn't it? Quite a coincidence, I call
+it," and with that I throw my cards on the table
+with considerable relief. Nothing good could have
+come of this hand, even if we had played until midnight.</p>
+
+<p>From all sides now arose the familiar sounds of
+the post-mortem: "I had the jack, 10, 9, and 7, all
+good, but I just couldn't get in with them.... If
+you had only led me your king, we could have set
+them at least two.... I knew that Grace had the
+queen, but I didn't dare try to finesse.... We had
+simple honors.... As soon as I saw you leading
+spades, I knew that there was nothing in it," etc.,
+etc.</p>
+
+<p>But at our table there was no post-mortem. Not
+because there had been no death, but there seemed
+to be nothing to say about it. So we sat, marking
+down our scores, until Dora came up behind me and
+said: "Well, dear, how is your game coming on?"</p>
+
+<p>As no one else seemed about to speak, I said:
+"Oh, finely, I'm getting the hang of it in no time."</p>
+
+<p>My partner muttered something about hanging
+being too good, which seemed a bit uncalled for.</p>
+
+<p>And so I went through the evening, meeting new
+people and making new friends. And, owing to
+Dora's having neglected to teach me the details of
+score keeping, I had to make a system up for myself,
+with the result that I finished the evening with
+a total of 15,000 points on my card and won the first
+prize.</p>
+
+<p>"Beginner's luck," I called it with modest good
+nature.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="IX" id="IX"></a>IX</h3>
+
+<h4>FROM NINE TO FIVE</h4>
+
+
+<p>One of the necessary qualifications of an efficient
+business man in these days of industrial
+literature seems to be the ability to write, in
+clear and idiomatic English, a 1,000-word story on
+how efficient he is and how he got that way. A
+glance through any one of our more racy commercial
+magazines will serve nicely to illustrate my point,
+for it was after glancing through one of them only
+five minutes ago that the point suggested itself to
+me.</p>
+
+<p>"What Is Making Our Business Grow;" "My
+$10,000 System of Carbon-Copy Hunting;" "Making
+the Turn-Over Turn In;" "If I Can Make My
+Pencil Sharpenings Work, Why Can't You?" "Getting
+Sales Out of Sahara," etc., are some of the intriguing
+titles which catch the eye of the student
+of world affairs as he thumbs over the business
+magazines on the news-stands before buying his
+newspaper. It seems as if the entire business world
+were devoting its working hours to the creation of
+a school of introspective literature.</p>
+
+<p>But the trouble with these writers is that they are
+all successful. There is too much sameness to their
+stuff. They have their little troubles at first, it is
+true, such as lack of coördination in the central typing
+department, or congestion of office boys in the
+room where the water cooler is situated; but sooner
+or later you may be perfectly sure that Right will
+triumph and that the young salesman will bring
+in the order that puts the firm back on its feet
+again. They seem to have no imagination, these
+writers of business confessions. What the art needs
+is some Strindberg of Commerce to put down on
+paper the sordid facts of Life as they really are,
+and to show, in bitter words of cynical realism,
+that ink erasers are not always segregated or vouchers
+always all that they should be, and that, behind
+the happy exterior of many a mahogany railing,
+all is not so gosh-darned right with the world
+after all.</p>
+
+<p>Now, without setting myself up as a Strindberg, I
+would like to start the ball rolling toward a more
+realistic school of business literature by setting down
+in my rough, impulsive way a few of the items in
+the account of "How We Make Our Business Lose
+$100,000 a Year."</p>
+
+<p>All that I ask in the way of equipment is an
+illustration showing a square-jawed, clean-cut American
+business man sitting at a desk and shaking his
+finger at another man, very obviously the head of
+the sales department because it says so under the
+picture, who is standing with his thumbs in the arm-holes
+of his waistcoat, gnawing at a big, black cigar,
+and looking out through the window at the smoke-stacks
+of the works. With this picture as a starter,
+and a chart or two, I can build up a very decent
+business story around them.</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 424px;">
+<img src="images/img17_p091.jpg" width="424"
+alt="A square-jawed American business man, etc., shaking his
+finger at another." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>In the first place let me say that what we have
+done in our business any firm can do in theirs. It
+is not that we have any extraordinary talents along
+organization lines. We simply have taken the lessons
+learned in everyday trading, have tabulated
+and filed them in triplicate. Then we have forgotten
+them.</p>
+
+<p>I can best give an idea of the secret of our mediocrity
+as a business organization by outlining a
+typical day in our offices. I do this in no spirit
+of boasting, but simply to show these thousands of
+systematized business men who are devoting themselves
+to literature that somewhere in all this miasma
+of success there shines a ray of inefficiency, giving
+promise of the day that is to come.</p>
+
+<p>The first part of the morning in our establishment
+is devoted to the mail. This starts the day
+off right, for it gives every one something to do,
+which is, I have found, a big factor in keeping the
+place looking busy.</p>
+
+<p>Personally I am not what is known as a "snappy"
+dictator. It makes me nervous to have a stenographer
+sitting there waiting for me to say something
+so that she can pounce on it and tear it into
+hieroglyphics. I feel that, mentally, she is checking
+me up with other men who have dictated to her, and
+that I am being placed in Class 5a, along with the
+licensed pilots and mental defectives, and the more
+I think of it the more incoherent I become. If exact
+and detailed notes were to be preserved of one
+of my dictated letters, mental processes, and all,
+they might read something like this:</p>
+
+<p>"Good morning, Miss Kettle.... Take a letter,
+please ... to the Nipco Drop Forge and Tool
+Company, Schenectady ... S-c-h-e-c&mdash;er&mdash;well,
+Schenectady; you know how to spell that, I guess,
+Miss Kettle, ha! ha!... Nipco Drop Forge and
+Tool Company, Schenectady, New York.... Gentlemen&mdash;er
+(business of touching finger tips and
+looking at the ceiling meditatively)&mdash;Your favor of
+the 17th inst. at hand, and in reply would state that&mdash;er
+(I should have thought this letter out before
+beginning to dictate and decided just what it <i>is</i>
+that we desire to state in reply)&mdash;and in reply would
+state that&mdash;er ... our Mr. Mellish reports that&mdash;er ...
+where is that letter from Mr. Mellish, Miss
+Kettle?... The one about the castings.... Oh,
+never mind, I guess I can remember what he said....
+Let's see, where were we?... Oh, yes, that
+our Mr. Mellish reports that he shaw the sipment&mdash;I
+mean <i>saw</i> the <i>shipment</i>&mdash;what's the matter with
+me? (this girl must think that I'm a perfect fool)
+... that he shaw the sipment in question on the
+platform of the station at Miller's Falls, and that it&mdash;er ...
+ah ... ooom ... (I'll have this girl
+asleep in her chair in a minute. I'll bet that she goes
+and tells the other girls that she has just taken a
+letter from a man with the mind of an eight-year-old
+boy).... We could, therefore, comma,... what's
+the matter?... Oh, I didn't finish that other sentence,
+I guess.... Let's see, how did it go?...
+Oh, yes ... and that I, or rather <i>it</i>, was in good
+shape ... er, cross that out, please (this girl is
+simply wasting her time here. I could spell this
+out with alphabet blocks quicker and let her copy
+it) ... and that it was in excellent shape at that
+shape&mdash;er ... or rather, at that <i>time</i> ... er ...
+period. New paragraph.</p>
+
+<p>"We are, comma, therefore, comma, unable to ...
+hello, Mr. Watterly, be right with you in half
+a second.... I'll finish this later, Miss Kettle ...
+thank you."</p>
+
+<p>When the mail is disposed of we have what is
+known as Memorandum Hour. During this period
+every one sends memoranda to every one else. If
+you happen to have nothing in particular about
+which to dictate a memorandum, you dictate a memorandum
+to some one, saying that you have nothing
+to suggest or report. This gives a stimulating exchange
+of ideas, and also helps to use up the blue
+memorandum blanks which have been printed at
+some expense for just that purpose.</p>
+
+<p>As an example of how this system works, I will
+give a typical instance of its procedure. My partner,
+let us say, comes in and sits down at the desk
+opposite me. I observe that his scarfpin is working
+its way out from his tie. I call a stenographer and
+say: "Take a memo to Mr. MacFurdle, please. <i>In
+re</i> Loosened Scarfpin. You are losing your scarfpin."</p>
+
+<p>As soon as she has typed this it is given to Mr.
+MacFurdle's secretary, and a carbon copy is put
+in the files. Mr. MacFurdle, on receiving my
+memo, adjusts his scarfpin and calls his secretary.</p>
+
+<p>"A memo to Mr. Benchley, please. <i>In re</i> Tightened
+Scarfpin. Thank you. I have given the matter
+my attention."</p>
+
+<p>As soon as I have received a copy of this typewritten
+reply to my memorandum we nod pleasantly
+to each other and go on with our work. In
+all, not more than half an hour has been consumed,
+and we have a complete record of the negotiations
+in our files in case any question should ever arise
+concerning them. In case <i>no</i> question should ever
+arise, we still have the complete record. So we
+can't lose&mdash;unless you want to call that half hour
+a loss.</p>
+
+<p>It is then almost lunch time. A quick glance
+at a pile of carbons of mill reports which have but
+little significance to me owing to the fact that the
+figures are illegible (it being a fifth-string carbon);
+a rapid survey of the matter submitted for my O.K.,
+most of which I dislike to take the responsibility
+for and therefore pass on to Mr. Houghtelling for his
+O.K.; a short tussle in the washroom with the liquid-soap
+container which contains no liquid soap and
+a thorough drying of the hands on my handkerchief,
+the paper towels having given out early in the morning,
+and I am ready to go to lunch with a man from
+the Eureka Novelty Company who wants to sell us
+a central paste-supply system (whereby all the office
+paste is kept in one large vat in the storeroom, individual
+brushfuls being taken out only on requisitions
+O.K.'d by the head of the department).</p>
+
+<p>Both being practical business men, we spend only
+two hours at lunch. And, both being practical business
+men, we know all the subtleties of selling. It
+is a well-known fact that personality plays a big
+rôle in the so-called "selling game" (one of a series
+of American games, among which are "the newspaper
+game," "the advertising game," "the cloak-and-suit
+game," "the ladies' mackintosh and over-shoe
+game," "the seedless-raisin and dried-fruit
+game," etc.), and so Mr. Ganz of the Eureka Novelty
+Company spends the first hour and three-quarters
+developing his "personality appeal." All
+through the tomato bisque aux croutons and the
+roast prime ribs of beef, dish gravy, he puts into
+practice the principles enunciated in books on Selling,
+by means of which the subject at hand is deferred
+in a subtle manner until the salesman has
+had a chance to impress his prospect with his geniality
+and his smile (an attractive smile has been
+known to sell a carload of 1897 style derbies, according
+to authorities on The Smile in Selling), his
+knowledge of baseball, his rich fund of stories, and
+his general aversion to getting down to the disagreeable
+reason for his call.</p>
+
+<p>The only trouble with this system is that I have
+done the same thing myself so many times that I
+know just what his next line is going to be, and
+can figure out pretty accurately at each stage of
+his conversation just when he is going to shift
+to one position nearer the thing he has to sell. I
+know that he has not the slightest interest in my
+entertainment other than the sale of a Eureka Central
+Paste Supply System, and he knows that I
+know it, and so we spend an hour and three-quarters
+fooling the waiter into thinking that we are engaged
+in disinterested camaraderie.</p>
+
+<p>For fifteen minutes we talk business, and I agree
+to take the matter up with the directors at the next
+meeting, holding the mental reservation that a central
+paste supply system will be installed in our plant
+only over my dead body.</p>
+
+<p>This takes us until two-thirty, and I have to hurry
+back to a conference. We have two kinds of "conference."
+One is that to which the office boy refers
+when he tells the applicant for a job that Mr.
+Blevitch is "in conference." This means that Mr.
+Blevitch is in good health and reading the paper,
+but otherwise unoccupied. The other kind of "conference"
+is bona fide in so far as it implies that
+three or four men are talking together in one room,
+and don't want to be disturbed.</p>
+
+<p>This conference is on, let us say, the subject of
+Window Cards for display advertising: shall they be
+triangular or diamond-shaped?</p>
+
+<p>There are four of us present, and we all begin
+by biting off the ends of four cigars. Watterly
+has a pile of samples of window cards of various
+shapes, which he hangs, with a great deal of trouble,
+on the wall, and which are not referred to again.
+He also has a few ideas on Window Card Psychology.</p>
+
+<p>"It seems to me," he leads off, "that we have here
+a very important question. On it may depend the
+success of our Middle Western sales. The problem
+as I see it is this: what will be the reaction on the
+retina of the eye of a prospective customer made
+by the sight of a diamond-shaped card hanging in
+a window? It is a well-known fact in applied psychology
+that when you take the average man into
+a darkened room, loosen his collar, and shout "Diamonds!"
+at him suddenly, his mental reaction is one
+in which the ideas of Wealth, Value, Richness, etc.,
+predominate. Now, it stands to reason that the
+visual reaction from seeing a diamond-shaped card
+in the window will...."</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 426px;">
+<img src="images/img18_p099.jpg" width="426"
+alt="The problem as I see it is this." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>"Excuse me a moment, George," says MacFurdle,
+who has absorbed some pointers on Distribution
+from a book entitled "The World Salesman," "I
+don't think that it is so important to get after the
+psychology of the thing first as it is to outline thoroughly
+the Theory of Zone Apportionment on which
+we are going to work. If we could make up a chart,
+showing in red ink the types of retail-stores and in
+green ink the types of jobber establishments, in this
+district, then we could get at the window display
+from that angle and tackle the psychology later, if
+at all. Now, on such a chart I would try to show
+the zones of Purchasing Power, and from these could
+be deduced...."</p>
+
+<p>"Just a minute, Harry," Inglesby interrupts, "let
+me butt in for half a second. That chart system
+is all very well when you are selling goods with which
+the public is already familiar through association
+with other brands, but with ours it is different. We
+have got to estimate the Consumer Demand first in
+terms of dollar-and-a-quarter units, and build our
+selling organization up around that. Now, if I know
+anything about human nature at all&mdash;and I think
+I do, after being in the malleable-iron game for fifteen
+years&mdash;the people in this section of the country
+represent an entirely different trade current
+than...."</p>
+
+<p>At this point I offer a few remarks on one of
+my pet hobbies, the influence of the Gulf Stream on
+Regional Commerce, and then we all say again the
+same things that we said before, after which we
+say them again, the pitch of the conversation growing
+higher at each repetition of views and the room
+becoming more and more filled with cigar smoke,
+Our final decision is to have a conference to-morrow
+afternoon, before which each one is to "think the
+matter over and report his reactions."</p>
+
+<p>This brings the day to a close. There has been
+nothing remarkable in it, as the reader will be the
+first one to admit. And yet it shows the secret of
+whatever we have not accomplished in the past year
+in our business.</p>
+
+<p>And it also shows why we practical business men
+have so little sympathy with a visionary, impractical
+arrangement like this League of Nations. President
+Wilson was all right in his way, but he was too
+academic. What we practical men in America want
+is deeds, not words.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="X" id="X"></a>X</h3>
+
+<h4>TURNING OVER A NEW LEDGER LEAF</h4>
+
+
+<p>New Year's morning approximately ninety-two
+million people in these United States will
+make another stab at keeping personal and household
+accounts for the coming year.</p>
+
+<p>One month from New Year's there will be approximately
+seventy-three of these accountants still in
+the race (all started). Of these, sixty will be groggy
+but still game and willing to lump the difference between
+the actual balance in their pockets and the
+theoretical balance in the books under the elastic
+heading "General Expenses" or "Incidentals," and
+start again for February. The remaining thirteen,
+who came out even, will be either professors of accounting
+in business schools or out and out unreliable.</p>
+
+<p>This high mortality rate among amateur accountants
+is one of the big problems of modern household
+efficiency, and is exceeded in magnitude only
+by the number of schemes devised to simplify household
+accounting. Every domestic magazine, in the
+midst of its autobiographical accounts of unhappy
+marriages, must needs run a chart showing how far
+a family with an income of $1,500 a year can go
+without getting caught and still put something aside
+for a canary. Every insurance company has had
+prepared by experts a table of figures explaining
+how, by lumping everything except Rent and Incidentals
+under Luxuries and doing without them,
+you can save enough from the wreckage of $1,200
+a year to get in on their special Forty-Year Adjournment
+Policy.</p>
+
+<p>Those publications which cannot get an expert
+to figure out how much you ought to spend per
+day will publish letters from young
+housewives showing how they made out a budget
+which in the end brought them in more money than
+they earned and had the grocer and electric light
+company owing them money.</p>
+
+<p>The trouble with all these vicarious budgets is
+that they presuppose, on the part of the user, an
+ability to add and subtract. They take it for
+granted that you are going to do the thing right.
+Now, with all due respect to our primary and secondary
+school system, this is absurd. Here and
+there you may find some one who can take a page
+of figures and maul them over so that they will
+come out right at the bottom, but who wants to be
+a man like that? What fun does he get out of
+life, always sure of what the result is going to
+be?</p>
+
+<p>As for me, give me the regular method of addition
+by logic; that is, if the result obtained is twelve
+removed from the result that should have been obtained,
+then, ergo, twelve is the amount by which
+you have miscalculated and it should, therefore, be
+added or subtracted, as the case may be, to or from
+the actual result somewhere up in the middle of
+the column, so that in the end the thing will balance.
+And there you are, with just the same result
+as if you had worked for hours over the page and
+quibbled over every little point and figure. There is
+no sense in becoming a slave to numerical signs
+which in themselves are not worth the paper they
+are written on. It is the imagination that one puts
+into accounting that makes it fascinating. If free
+verse, why not free arithmetic?</p>
+
+<p>It is for the honest ones, who admit that they
+can't work one of the budget systems for the mentally
+alert, that the accompanying one has been
+devised.</p>
+
+<p>Let us take, for instance, a family whose income
+is $750,000 a year, exclusive of tips. In the family
+are a father, mother and fox terrier. The expenses
+for such a family come under the head of
+Liabilities and are distributed among six accounts:
+Food, Lodging, Extras, Extras, Incidentals and Extras.
+For this couple I would advise the following
+system:</p>
+
+<p>Take the contents of the weekly pay envelope,
+$14,423.08 (if any one is mean enough to go and
+divide $750,000 into fifty-two parts to see if I have
+got it right, he will find that it doesn't quite come
+to eight cents, but you certainly wouldn't have me
+carry it out to any more places. It took me from
+three yesterday afternoon until after dinner to do
+what I did). Take the contents of the envelope and
+lay them on the kitchen table in little piles, so
+much for meat, so much for eggs, so much for adhesive
+plaster, etc., until the kitchen table is covered.
+Then sweep it all into a bag and balance
+your books.</p>
+
+<p>Balancing the books is another point in the ideal
+system which often makes for trouble. Sticklers for
+form insist that the two sides of the page shall come
+out alike, even at the expense of your self-respect.
+It is the artificiality of this that hurts. No matter
+how much you spend, no matter how much you receive,
+at the bottom of the page they must add up
+to the same thing, with a double red line underneath
+them to show that the polls are closed.</p>
+
+<p>But since this is the accepted way of doing the
+thing, we might just as well concede the point and
+lay our plans accordingly. First take the sum that
+you have left over in the household exchequer at
+the end of the mouth. Put it, or its equivalent in
+check form, on the table in front of you. Then,
+working backward, find out how much you have
+spent since the first of the month. This sum is
+the crux of the whole system. Divide it into as
+many equal parts as you have accounts. For instance,
+Food, Rent, Clothes, Insurance and Savings,
+Operating Expenses, Higher Life. If you can't divide
+it so that it comes out even, tuck a little bit
+on the Higher Life account. And, as the student of
+French says," <i>Voilà</i>" (there it is)!</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps you have wondered what I meant by
+"Higher Life." I have. It might be well to state
+it here so that we can all get it clear in our minds.
+Under the "Higher Life" account you can charge
+everything that you want to do, but feel that you
+can't afford. If you want to take in an inconsequential
+theatrical performance and can't quite
+square it with your conscience, figure it out this
+way: By going to that show you will become so disgusted
+with the futility of such things that you will
+come out of the theater all aglow with a resolve to
+do a man's work in the world just as soon as you
+have caught up with your sleep. Surely that comes
+under "Advancement" or "Higher Life."</p>
+
+<p>Insurance budget helps always include under
+"Advancement" money spent for lectures. Now, it
+may be that I have drifted away from the big things
+in life since I moved out into the country, but somehow
+I can't just at this moment recollect standing
+in line at a box office for a lecture. But then, my
+home life is very pleasant.</p>
+
+<p>Lectures would be a very convenient heading,
+nevertheless, to have in your budget. Then, any
+little items that slip your attention during the month
+you can group under lectures and mark off ten paces
+in your advancement chart.</p>
+
+<p>By way of outlining beforehand just what you
+can spend on this and that (and it is usually on
+"that") it might be well to take another family
+with a representative income. Let us say that there
+are four in the family and that the income is about
+$1,000 per year too small. If such a family would
+sit down some evening and draw a chart showing
+father's earning capacity with one red line and
+the family spending capacity with one black line,
+they would not only have a pleasant evening, but
+they would have a nice, neat chart all drawn and
+suitable for framing.</p>
+
+<p>There is one little technical point that the amateur
+accountant will do well to remember. It gives
+a distinction to the page and shows that you are acquainted
+with bookkeeping lore. It is this: Label
+your debit column "credits" and your credit column
+"debits." You might think that what you
+receive into the exchequer would be credited and
+your expenses debited, but that is where you miss
+the whole theory of practical accounting. That
+would be too simple to be efficient. You must wax
+transcendental, and say, "I, as an individuated entity,
+am nothing. Everything is all; all is everything."
+There is a transcendent Account, to which
+all other accounts are responsible, and hence money
+turned over to the Cinnamon Account is not credited
+to that account, but rather debited to it, for
+Cinnamon hereby assumes the responsibility for the
+sum. As money is spent for Cinnamon, its account
+is credited, for it is relieved of that responsibility.
+Don't start wondering where the responsibility
+finally settles or you will throw something out of
+its stride in your brain.</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 422px;">
+<img src="images/img19_p108.jpg" width="422"
+alt="They would have a nice, neat chart suitable for framing." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Some people profess to scoff at the introduction
+of bookkeeping into the running of the household.
+It is simply because they never tasted the fascination
+of the thing.</p>
+
+<p>The advantage of keeping family accounts is
+clear. If you do not keep them you are uneasily
+aware of the fact that you are spending more than
+you are earning. If you do keep them, you know
+it.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="XI" id="XI"></a>XI</h3>
+
+<h4>A PIECE OF ROAST BEEF</h4>
+
+
+<p>Personally, I class roast beef with watercress
+and vanilla cornstarch pudding as tasty
+articles of diet. It undoubtedly has more than the
+required number of calories; it leans over backward
+in its eagerness to stand high among our best proteins,
+and, according to a vivid chart in the back
+of the cookbook, it is equal in food value to three
+dried raisins piled one on the other plus peanut-butter
+the size of an egg.</p>
+
+<p>But for all that I can't seem to feel that I am
+having a good time while I am eating it. It stimulates
+the same nerve centers in me that a lantern-slide
+lecture on "Palestine&mdash;the Old and the New,"
+does.</p>
+
+<p>However, I have noticed that there are people
+who are not bored by it; in fact, I have seen them
+deliberately order it in a restaurant when they had
+the choice of something else; so I thought that the
+only fair thing I could do would be to look into the
+matter and see if, in this great city, there weren't
+some different ways of serving roast beef to vary
+its monotony.</p>
+
+<p>Roast beef is not the same price in all eating-places.
+What makes the difference? What does
+a diner at the Ritz get in his "roast prime ribs of
+beef au jus" that makes it distinctive from the
+"Special to-day&mdash;roast beef and mashed potatoes"
+of the Bowery restaurant?</p>
+
+<p>To answer these questions I started out on a tour
+of the representative eating-places of some of our
+best known strata of society, and, whatever my conclusions
+are, you may be sure that they are thoroughly
+inexpert.</p>
+
+<p>First, I tried out what is known as the Bay State
+Lunch, so called because on Thursdays they have
+a fishcake special. It is one of the hundreds of
+"self-serving" lunchrooms, where you approach the
+marble counter and give your order in a low tone
+to a man in a barber's coat, and then repeat it at
+intervals of one minute, each time louder and each
+time to a different man, until you are forced to point
+to a tub of salmon salad and say, "Some of that,"
+for which your ticket is punched and you are allowed
+to take your portion and nurse it on the over-developed
+arm of a chair.</p>
+
+<p>Here the roast beef shot through the Punch and
+Judy arrangement in the wall, a piece of meat about
+as large around as a man's-size mitten, steeping in its
+own gravy and of a pale reddish hue. The price was
+twenty cents, which included a dab of mashed potato
+dished out in an ice-cream scoop, a generous allowance
+of tender peas, two hot tea-biscuits and butter
+to match.</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 407px;">
+<img src="images/img20_p112.jpg" width="407"
+alt="Considering the basic ingredient, it was a perfectly
+satisfactory meal." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Considering the basic ingredient, it was a perfectly
+satisfactory meal, and I felt that twenty
+cents was little enough to pay for it, especially since
+it was going in on my expense account.</p>
+
+<p>For the next experiment I went to a restaurant
+where business men are wont to gather for luncheon,
+men who pride themselves on their acumen and adherence
+to the principles of efficiency. The place
+has a French name and its menus are printed on a
+card the size of a life insurance company's complimentary
+calendar, always an ominous sign. The
+roast beef here was served cold, with a plate of
+escarole salad (when I was a boy I used to have
+to dig escarole out of the front lawn with a trowel
+so that the grass could have a chance) for seventy-five
+cents.</p>
+
+<p>The meat bulked a little larger than at the Bay
+State Lunch, but when the fat had been cut away
+and trimmed off the salvage was about the size of a
+boy's mitten. As for the taste, the only difference
+that I could detect was that one had been hot and
+the other cold.</p>
+
+<p>And, incidentally, the waiter had some bosom
+friends in the next room who fascinated him so that
+it was all I could do to make him see that if he
+didn't come around to me once in a while, just as
+a matter of form, there would be no way for me to
+tip him. Beef and salad, plus tip, ninety cents.</p>
+
+<p>That evening I ambled up the Bowery until I
+came to the Busy Home Restaurant. On a black-board
+in front was written, "Roast Beef, Mashed
+Potatoes and Coffee, 10 Cents." My old hunger
+again seized me. I said to myself: "Look here!
+Be a man! This thing is getting the best of you."
+But before I knew it I was inside and seated at
+an oilcloth-covered table, saying, in a hoarse voice,
+"Roast beef!"</p>
+
+<p>The waiter was dressed in an informal costume,
+with his shirt-sleeves rolled up and a mulatto apron
+about his waist, but he smiled genially when he took
+my order and was back with it in two minutes. The
+article itself was of the regulation size, cut somewhat
+thinner, perhaps, and bordering on the gray
+in hue, but undoubtedly roast beef. It, too, had an
+affinity for its own gravy and hid itself modestly
+under an avalanche of mashed potatoes. A cup of
+coffee was also included in the ten cents' initial expense,
+but I somehow wasn't coffee-thirsty that night,
+and so didn't sample it. But I did help myself to
+the plate piled high with fresh bread which was
+left in front of me. All in all, it was what I should
+call a representative roast beef dinner. And I got
+more than ten cents' worth of calories, I know.</p>
+
+<p>But so far I had kept below the Fourteenth Street
+belt in my investigations. Roast beef is a cosmopolitan
+habit, and knows no arbitrary boundaries;
+so I went uptown. Into one of the larger of our
+largest hotels, one which is not so near the Grand
+Central Station as to be in the train-shed, and yet
+not so far removed from it as to be represented by
+a different Assemblyman. Here, I felt, would be
+the test. Could roast beef come back? Surrounded
+by glittering chandeliers and rich tapestries, snowy
+table linen and silver service, here was the chance
+for the ordinary roast beef to become a veritable
+dainty, with some character, some distinctive touch
+that should lift it above all that roast beef has ever
+meant before. I entered the dining-room, in high
+hopes.</p>
+
+<p>Clad in a walking suit of virile tweed, I considered
+myself respectably dressed. Not ostentatiously
+respectable, mind you, but, since most of the other
+diners were in evening dress, rather <i>distingué</i>, I
+thought.</p>
+
+<p>But apparently the hotel retainers weren't trained
+to look through a rough exterior and find the sterling
+qualities beneath. They looked through my
+rough exterior all right, but they didn't stop at
+my sterling qualities. They looked right through
+to the man behind me, and gave him the signal
+that there was a seat for him.</p>
+
+<p>Not to be outdone, however, I got my place in
+the sun by cleverly tripping my rival as he passed
+me, so that he fell into the fountain arrangement,
+while I sat down in the seat pulled out for him by
+the head waiter. And, once I was in, there was
+nothing for them to do but let me stay.</p>
+
+<p>After I had been there a few minutes a waiter
+came and put on a fresh table cloth. Five minutes
+later another man placed a knife and spoon at my
+plate. Later in the evening a boy with a basket
+of rolls wandered by and deposited one on my table
+with a pair of pincers. Personally, I was rather
+glad that it was working out this way, for it would
+make my story all the better, but I might have really
+been in a hurry for my dinner.</p>
+
+<p>It wasn't long, as the crow flies, before one of
+the third assistant waiters unloosened enough to drop
+round and see if there was anything else I wanted
+besides one roll and a knife and spoon. I looked
+over the menu as if I were in a pretty captious mood,
+and then, with the air of an epicure who has tasted
+to the dregs all the condiments of Arabia and whose
+jaded palate refuses to thrill any longer, I ordered
+"roast beef."</p>
+
+<p>It was billed as "90 (.80)," which didn't strike
+me as being very steep, considering the overhead
+expense there must be in keeping little knots of
+waiters and 'bus-boys standing round doing nothing
+in the further corner of the room.</p>
+
+<p>The waiter wasn't very enthusiastic over my order,
+and something saved me from asking him if
+they threw in "a side" of mashed potatoes with
+the meat. He seemed to expect something more,
+even after I had ordered potatoes, so I suggested
+an artichoke. That cheered him up more than anything
+I had done that evening, and he really got
+quite fratty and said: "A little salad, sir?" Again
+I imitated a man who has had more experience with
+salads than any other three men put together and
+who has found them a miserable sham.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 422px;">
+<img src="images/img21_p117.jpg" width="422"
+alt="The waiter wasn't very enthusiastic over my order." title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>"No; that will be all for now," I said, and turned
+wearily away. I wanted to tell him that I had a
+dinner coat at home that looked enough sight better
+than his, but there is no use in making a scene
+when it can be avoided.</p>
+
+<p>During the next twenty minutes the orchestra
+played once and I ate my roll. Then the roast
+beef came.</p>
+
+<p>On a silver platter, with a silver cover, it was
+placed before me under the best possible scenic
+conditions. But the thing that met my gaze when
+the cover was lifted might just as well have been
+the same property piece of roast beef that was
+keeping company with a dab of mashed potato in
+the Bay State Lunch. It had a trifle more fat, was
+just a shade pinker, and perhaps a micrometer could
+have detected a bit more bulk; but, so far as I was
+concerned or so far as the calories were concerned,
+it was the same. I won't say that it was the same
+as the Roast Beef Special of the Bowery Restaurant,
+because the service in the Bowery Restaurant was
+infinitely better.</p>
+
+<p>As a fitting garniture to such a dish, there was a
+corsage of watercress draped on the corner of the
+salver. At any rate, it could be said for it that
+it was not intoxicating, and so could never cause
+any real misery in this world.</p>
+
+<p>I nibbled at my roast beef, but my spirit was
+broken. I had gone through a week of self-denial,
+ordering roast beef when I craved edibles, eating
+at restaurants while my family waited for me at
+home, and here was the result of my researches:
+Roast beef is roast beef, and nothing can prevent
+it. From the ten-cent order of the Busy Home Restaurant,
+up through to the piece I was then eating,
+it was the same grim reality, the only justification
+for a difference in price being a silver salver or a
+waiter in a tuxedo.</p>
+
+<p>"But," I said to myself, "eighty cents isn't so
+much, at that. Besides, I have heard the orchestra
+play one tune every half-hour, and have had a kind
+word from one of the <i>chargés d'affaires</i> of the waiter's
+staff."</p>
+
+<p>This quite reconciled me, until my check was
+brought. There, added to the initial expense of
+eighty cents, was the upkeep, such as "Cover, 25c."
+"Potatoes, 30c." And to this must be added the
+modest fee of twenty cents to the waiter and ten
+cents to the hat-boy who gave me the wrong hat.
+Total expense for one piece of roast beef, $1.70.</p>
+
+<p>These investigations may not prove to be much
+of a contribution to modern science or economics.
+I doubt if they are ever incorporated in any textbook,
+even if it should be a textbook on this very
+subject. But I must take credit to myself for one
+thing: Not once throughout the whole report have
+I alluded to the Tenderloin District.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="XII" id="XII"></a>XII</h3>
+
+<h4>THE COMMUNITY MASQUE AS A SUBSTITUTE FOR WAR</h4>
+
+
+<p>With War and Licker removed from the list
+of "What's Going on This Week," how will
+mankind spend the long summer evenings? Some
+advocate another war. Others recommend a piece
+of yeast in a glass of grape-juice. The effect is said
+to be equally devastating.</p>
+
+<p>But there is a new school, led by Percy Mackaye,
+which brings forward a scheme for occupying the
+spare time of the world which has, at least, the
+savor of novelty. It presents the community
+masque as a substitute for war. Whenever a neighborhood,
+or county, feels the old craving for blood-letting
+and gas-bombing coming on, a town meeting
+is to be called and plans drawn up for the presentation
+of a masque entitled "Democracy" or "From
+Chrysalis to Butterfly." In this simple way, one
+and all will be kept out in the open air and will
+get to know each other better, thus relieving their
+bellicose cravings right there on the village green
+among themselves, without dragging a foreign nation
+into the mess at all. The slogan is "Fight
+Your Neighbors First. Why Go Abroad for War?"</p>
+
+<p>The community masque idea is all right in itself.
+There certainly can be no harm in dressing up to
+represent the Three Platoon System, or the Spirit
+of Machinery, and reciting free verse to the effect
+that:</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"I am the Three Platoon System. Firemen I represent,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And the clash and clang of the Hook and Ladder Company."</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>No one could find fault with that, provided that
+those taking part in the thing do so of their own
+free will and understand what they are doing.</p>
+
+<p>The trouble with the community masque is not
+so much with the masque as with the community.
+For while the masque may be a five star sporting
+extra hot from the presses of Percy Mackaye, the
+community is the same old community that has
+been getting together for inter-Sunday School track-meets
+and Wig and Footlight Club Amateur Theatricals
+for years and years, and the result has always
+been the same.</p>
+
+<p>Let us say, for instance, that the community of
+Wimblehurst begins to feel the lack of a good, rousing
+war to keep the Ladies' Guild and the men over
+thirty-five busy. What could be more natural than
+to call in Mr. Mackaye, and say: "What have you
+got in the way of a nice masque for a suburban district
+containing many socially possible people
+and others who might do very well in ensemble
+work?"</p>
+
+<p>Something entitled "The March of Civilization"
+is selected, because it calls for Boy Scout uniforms
+and a Goddess of Liberty costume, all of which are
+on hand, together with lots of Red Cross regalia,
+left over from the war drives. The plot of the thing
+concerns the adventures of the young girl <i>Civilization</i>
+who leaves her home in the <i>Neolithic Period</i>
+accompanied only by her faithful old nurse <i>Language</i>
+and <i>Language's</i> little children the <i>Vowels</i> and
+the <i>Consonants</i>. She is followed all the way from
+the Neolithic Age to the Present Time by the evil
+spirit, <i>Indigestion</i>, but, thanks to the helpful offices
+of the <i>Spirits of Capillary Attraction</i>, and <i>Indestructibility
+of Matter</i>, she overcomes all obstacles
+and reaches her goal, <i>The League of Nations</i>, at
+last.</p>
+
+<p>But during the course of her wanderings, there
+have been all kinds of sub-plots which bring the
+element of suspense into the thing. For instance,
+it seems that this person <i>Indigestion</i> has found out
+something about <i>Civilization's</i> father which gives
+him the upper hand over the girl, and he, together
+with the two gunmen, <i>Heat</i> and <i>Humidity</i>, arrange
+all kinds of traps for the poor thing to fall into.
+But she takes counsel with the kind old lady, <i>Self-Determination
+of Peoples</i>, and is considerably
+helped by the low comedy character, <i>Obesity</i>, who
+always appears at just the right moment. So in the
+end, there is a big ensemble, involving Boy Scouts,
+representatives of those Allies who happen to be in
+good standing in that particular month, seven boys
+and girls personifying the twelve months of the year,
+Red Cross workers, the Mayor's Committee of Welcome,
+a selection of Major Prophets, children typifying
+the ten different ways of cooking an egg, and
+the all-pervading <i>Spirit of the Post-Office Department</i>,
+seated on a daïs in the rear and watching over
+the assemblage with kindly eyes and an armful of
+bricks.</p>
+
+<p>This, then, is in brief outline, "The March of
+Civilization," selected for presentation by the Community
+Council of Wimblehurst. It is to be done
+on the edge of the woods which line the golf-course,
+and on paper, the thing shapes up rather
+well.</p>
+
+<p>Considerable hard feeling arises, however, over
+the choice of the children to play the parts of the
+<i>Vowels</i> and the <i>Consonants</i>. It is, of course, not
+possible to have all the vowels and consonants represented,
+as they would clutter up the stage and
+might prove unwieldy in the allegretto passages.
+A compromise is therefore effected by personifying
+only the more graceful ones, like <i>S</i> and the lower-case
+<i>f</i>, and this means that a certain discrimination
+must be used in selecting the actors. It also means
+that a great many little girls are going to be disappointed
+and their mothers' feelings outraged.</p>
+
+<p>Little Alice Withstanley is chosen to play the part
+of the <i>Craft Guild Movement in Industry</i>, showing
+the rise of coöperation and unity among the working-classes.
+She is chosen because she has blonde
+hair which can be arranged in braids down her back,
+obviously essential to a proper representation of industrial
+team-work as a moving force in the world's
+progress. It so happens, however, that the daughter
+of the man who is cast for <i>Humidity</i> has had her
+eyes on this ingénue part ever since the printed text
+was circulated and had virtually been promised it
+by the Head of the House Committee of the Country
+Club, through whose kindness the grounds were
+to be used for the performance. There is a heated
+discussion over the merits of the two contestants
+between Mrs. Withstanley and the mother of the
+betrayed girl, which results in the withdrawal of
+the latter's offer to furnish Turkish rugs for the
+Oriental Decadence scene.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 439px;">
+<img src="images/img22_p126.jpg" width="439"
+alt="There is a heated discussion between Mrs. Withstanley and the
+mother of the betrayed girl." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Following this, the rougher element of the community&mdash;enlisted
+to take part in the scenes showing
+the building of the Pyramids and the first Battle of
+Bull Run&mdash;appear at one of the early rehearsals in
+a state of bolshevik upheaval, protesting against
+the unjust ruling which makes them attend all rehearsals
+and wait around on the side hill until their
+scenes are on, keeping them inactive sometimes
+from two to three hours, according to the finish with
+which the principals get through the prologue and
+opening scenes showing the Creation. The proletariat
+present an ultimatum, saying that the Committee
+in charge can either shorten their waiting
+hours or remove the restrictions on crap-shooting
+on the side-hill during their periods of inaction.</p>
+
+<p>There is a meeting of the Director and his assistants
+who elect a delegation to confer with the striking
+legionaries, with the result that no compromise
+is reached, the soviet withdraws from the masque
+in a body, threatening to set fire to the grass on
+the first night of the performance.</p>
+
+<p>During the rehearsals the husband of the woman
+who is portraying <i>Winter Wheat</i> is found wandering
+along the brookside with her sister cereal <i>Spring
+Wheat</i>, which, of course, makes further polite coöperation
+between these two staples impossible, and
+the Dance of the Food Stuffs has to be abandoned
+at the last moment. This adds to the general tension.</p>
+
+<p>Three nights before the first performance the Director
+calls every one to a meeting in the trophy
+room of the Club-house and says that, so far as he
+is concerned, the show is off. He has given up his
+time to come out here, night after night, in an attempt
+to put on a masque that will be a credit to
+the community and a significant event in the world
+of art, and what has he found? Indifference, irresponsibility,
+lack of coöperation, non-attendance
+at rehearsals, and a spirit of <i>laissez-faire</i> in the face
+of which it is impossible to produce a successful
+masque. Consideration for his own reputation, as
+well as that of the township, makes it necessary
+for him to throw the whole thing over, here and
+now.</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 466px;">
+<img src="images/img22a_p128.jpg" width="466"
+alt="The audience is composed chiefly of the aged and
+the infirm." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>The Chairman of the Committee then gets up and
+cries a little, and says that he is sure that if every
+one agrees to pull together during these last three
+days and to attend rehearsals faithfully and to try
+to get plenty of sleep, Mr. Parsleigh, the coach, will
+consent to help them through with the performance,
+and he asks every one who is willing to coöperate
+to say "Aye." Every one says "Aye" and Mr.
+Parsleigh is won over.</p>
+
+<p>As for the masque itself, it is given, of course;
+and as most of the able-bodied people of the community
+are taking part, the audience is composed
+chiefly of the aged and the infirm, who catch muscular
+rheumatism from sitting out-of-doors and are
+greatly bored, except during those scenes when their
+relatives are taking part. The masque is hailed as
+a great success, however, in spite of the fact that
+the community has been disrupted and social life
+made impossible until the next generation grows up
+and agrees to let bygones be bygones.</p>
+
+<p>But as a substitute for war, it has no equal.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="XIII" id="XIII"></a>XIII</h3>
+
+<h4>CALL FOR MR. KENWORTHY!</h4>
+
+
+<p>A great many people have wondered to
+themselves, in print, just where the little
+black laundry-studs go after they have been
+yanked from the shirt. Others pass this by as inconsequential,
+but are concerned over the ultimate
+disposition of all the pencil stubs that are thrown
+away. Such futile rumination is all well enough
+for those who like it. As for me, give me a big,
+throbbing question like this: "Who are the people
+that one hears being paged in hotels? Are they real
+people or are they decoys? And if they are real
+people, what are they being paged for?"</p>
+
+<p>Now, there's something vital to figure out. And
+the best of it is that it <i>can</i> be figured out by the
+simple process of following the page to see whether
+he ever finds any one.</p>
+
+<p>In order that no expense should be spared, I
+picked out a hotel with poor service, which means
+that it was an expensive hotel. It was so expensive
+that all you could hear was the page's voice as he
+walked by you; his footfalls made no noise in the
+extra heavy Bokhara. It was just a mingling of
+floating voices, calling for "Mr. Bla-bla, Mr.
+Schwer-a-a, Mr. Twa-a-a."</p>
+
+<p>Out of this wealth of experimental material I
+picked a boy with a discouraged voice like Wallace
+Eddinger's, who seemed to be saying "I'm calling
+these names&mdash;because that's my job&mdash;if I wasn't
+calling these&mdash;I'd be calling out cash totals in an
+honor system lunchery&mdash;but if any one should ever
+answer to one of these names&mdash;I'd have a poor
+spell."</p>
+
+<p>Allowing about fifteen feet distance between us
+for appearance's sake, I followed him through the
+lobby. He had a bunch of slips in his hand and
+from these he read the names of the pagees.</p>
+
+<p>"Call for Mr. Kenworthy&mdash;Mr. Shriner&mdash;Mr.
+Bodkin&mdash;Mr. Blevitch&mdash;Mr. Kenworthy&mdash;Mr. Bodkin&mdash;Mr.
+Kenworthy&mdash;Mr. Shriner&mdash;call for Mr.
+Kenworthy&mdash;Mr. Blevitch&mdash;Mr. Kenworthy."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Kenworthy seemed to be standing about a
+20 per cent better chance of being located than any
+of the other contestants. Probably the boy was of
+a romantic temperament and liked the name. Sometimes
+that was the only name he would call for mile
+upon mile. It occurred to me that perhaps Mr.
+Kenworthy was the only one wanted, and that the
+other names were just put in to make it harder, or
+to give body to the thing.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 309px;">
+<img src="images/img23_p132.jpg" width="309"
+alt="Sometimes that was the only name he would call for mile
+upon mile." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>But when we entered the bar the youth shifted
+his attack. The name of Kenworthy evidently had
+begun to cloy. He was fed up on romance and
+wanted something substantial, homely, perhaps, but
+substantial.</p>
+
+<p>So he dropped Kenworthy and called: "Mr.
+Blevitch. Call for Mr. Blevitch&mdash;Mr. Shriner&mdash;Mr.
+Bodkin&mdash;Mr. Blevitch&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>But even this subtle change of tactics failed to net
+him a customer. We had gone through the main
+lobby, along the narrow passage lined with young
+men waiting on sofas for young women who would
+be forty minutes late, through the grill, and now
+had crossed the bar, and no one had raised even an
+eyebrow. No wonder the boy's voice sounded discouraged.</p>
+
+<p>As we went through one of the lesser dining-rooms,
+the dining-room that seats a lot of heavy men
+in business suits holding cigarettes, who lean over
+their plates the more confidentially to converse with
+their blond partners, in this dining-room the plaintive
+call drew fire. One of the men in business
+suits, who was at a table with another man and two
+women, lifted his head when he heard the sound
+of names being called.</p>
+
+<p>"Boy!" he said, and waved like a traffic officer
+signaling, "Come!"</p>
+
+<p>Eagerly the page darted forward. Perhaps this
+was Mr. Kenworthy! Or better yet, Mr. Blevitch.</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: px;">
+<img src="images/img24_p134.jpg" width=""
+alt="Anything here for Studz?" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>"Anything here for Studz?" said the man in the
+business suit, when he was sure that enough people
+were listening.</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir," sighed the boy. "Mr. Blevitch, Mr.
+Kenworthy, Mr. Shriner, Mr. Bodkin?" he suggested,
+hopefully.</p>
+
+<p>"Naw," replied the man, and turned to his associates
+with an air of saying: "Rotten service here&mdash;just
+think of it, no call for me!"</p>
+
+<p>On we went again. The boy was plainly skeptical.
+He read his lines without feeling. The management
+had led him into this; all he could do was
+to take it with as good grace as possible.</p>
+
+<p>He slid past the coat-room girl at the exit (no
+small accomplishment in itself) and down a corridor,
+disappearing through a swinging door at the end.
+I was in no mood to lose out on the finish after following
+so far, and I dashed after him.</p>
+
+<p>The door led into a little alcove and another palpitating
+door at the opposite end showed me where
+he had gone. Setting my jaw for no particular reason,
+I pushed my way through.</p>
+
+<p>At first, like the poor olive merchant in the
+Arabian Nights I was blinded by the glare of lights
+and the glitter of glass and silver. Oh, yes, and by
+the snowy whiteness of the napery, too. "By the
+napery of the neck" wouldn't be a bad line to get
+off a little later in the story. I'll try it.</p>
+
+<p>At any rate, it was but the work of a minute for
+me to realize that I had entered by a service entrance
+into the grand dining-room of the establishment,
+where, if you are not in evening dress, you are
+left to munch bread and butter until you starve to
+death and are carried out with your heels dragging,
+like the uncouth lout that you are. It was, if I may
+be allowed the phrase, a galaxy of beauty, with
+every one dressed up like the pictures. And I had
+entered 'way up front, by the orchestra.</p>
+
+<p>Now, mind you, I am not ashamed of my gray
+suit. I like it, and my wife says that I haven't had
+anything so becoming for a long time. But in it I
+didn't check up very strong against the rest of the
+boys in the dining-room. As a gray suit it is above
+reproach. As a garment in which to appear single-handed
+through a trapdoor before a dining-room of
+well dressed Middle Westerners it was a fizzle from
+start to finish. Add to this the items that I had to
+snatch a brown soft hat from my head when I found
+out where I was, which caused me to drop the three
+evening papers I had tucked under my arm, and
+you will see why my up-stage entrance was the signal
+for the impressive raising of several dozen eyebrows,
+and why the captain approached me just
+exactly as one man approaches another when he is
+going to throw him out.</p>
+
+<p>(Blank space for insertion of "napery of neck"
+line, if desired. Choice optional with reader.)</p>
+
+<p>I saw that anything that I might say would be
+used against me, and left him to read the papers I
+had dropped. One only lowers one's self by having
+words with a servitor.</p>
+
+<p>Gradually I worked my way back through the
+swinging doors to the main corridor and rushed
+down to the regular entrance of the grand dining-salon,
+to wait there until my quarry should emerge.
+Suppose he should find all of his consignees in this
+dining-room! I could not be in at the death then,
+and would have to falsify my story to make any
+kind of ending at all. And that would never do.</p>
+
+<p>Once in a while I would catch the scent, when,
+from the humming depths of the dining-room, I
+could hear a faint "Call for Mr. Kenworthy" rising
+above the click of the oyster shells and the soft
+crackling of the "potatoes Julienne" one against
+another. So I knew that he had not failed me, and
+that if I had faith and waited long enough he would
+come back.</p>
+
+<p>And, sure enough, come back he did, and without
+a name lost from his list. I felt like cheering
+when I saw his head bobbing through the mêlée of
+waiters and 'bus-boys who were busy putting clean
+plates on the tables and then taking them off again
+in eight seconds to make room for more clean
+plates. Of all discouraging existences I can imagine
+none worse than that of an eternally clean plate.
+There can be no sense of accomplishment, no glow
+of duty done, in simply being placed before a man
+and then taken away again. It must be almost as
+bad as paging a man who you are sure is not in
+the hotel.</p>
+
+<p>The futility of the thing had already got on the
+page's nerves, and in a savage attempt to wring a
+little pleasure out of the task he took to welding
+the names, grafting a syllable of one to a syllable of
+another, such as "Call for Mr. Kenbodkin&mdash;Mr.
+Shrineworthy&mdash;Mr. Blevitcher."</p>
+
+<p>This gave us both amusement for a little while,
+but your combinations are limited in a thing like
+that, and by the time the grill was reached he was
+saying the names correctly and with a little more
+assurance.</p>
+
+<p>It was in the grill that the happy event took place.
+Mr. Shriner, the one of whom we expected least,
+suddenly turned up at a table alone. He was a
+quiet man and not at all worked up over his unexpected
+honor. He signaled the boy with one hand
+and went on taking soup with the other, and learned,
+without emotion, that he was wanted on the telephone.
+He even made no move to leave his meal to
+answer the call, and when last seen he was adding
+pepper with one hand and taking soup with the
+other. I suspect that he was a "plant," or a plain-clothes
+house detective, placed there on purpose to
+deceive me.</p>
+
+<p>We had been to every nook of the hotel by this
+time, except the writing-room, and, of course, no
+one would ever look there for patrons of the hotel.
+Seeing that the boy was about to totter, I went up
+and spoke to him. He continued to totter, thinking,
+perhaps, that I was Mr. Kenworthy, his long-lost
+beau-ideal. But I spoke kindly to him and
+offered him a piece of chocolate almond-bar, and
+soon, in true reporter fashion, had wormed his
+secret from him before he knew what I was really
+after.</p>
+
+<p>The thing I wanted to find out was, of course,
+just what the average is of replies to one paging
+trip. So I got around it in this manner: offering
+him another piece of chocolate almond-bar, I said,
+slyly: "Just what is the average number of replies
+to one paging trip?"</p>
+
+<p>I think that he had suspected something at first,
+but this question completely disarmed him, and,
+leaning against an elderly lady patron, he told me
+everything.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," he said, "it's this way: sometimes I find
+a man, and sometimes I can go the rounds without
+a bite. To-night, for instance, here I've got four
+names and one came across. That's about the
+average&mdash;perhaps one in six."</p>
+
+<p>I asked him why he had given Mr. Kenworthy
+such a handicap at the start.</p>
+
+<p>A faint smile flickered across his face and then
+flickered back again.</p>
+
+<p>"I call the names I think will be apt to hang
+round in the part of the hotel I'm in. Mr. Kenworthy
+would have to be in the dressy dining-room
+or in the lobby where they wait for ladies.
+You'd never find him in the bar or the Turkish
+baths. On the other hand, you'll never find a man
+by the name of Blevitch anywhere except in the bar.
+Of course, I take a chance and call every name once
+in so often, no matter where I am, but, on the whole,
+I uses my own discretion."</p>
+
+<p>I gave him another piece of chocolate and the
+address of a good bootmaker and left him. What I
+had heard had sobered me, and the lights and music
+suddenly seemed garish. It is no weak emotion to
+feel that you have been face to face with a mere boy
+whose chances of success in his work are one to six.</p>
+
+<p>And I found that he had not painted the lily in
+too glowing terms. I followed other pages that
+night&mdash;some calling for "Mr. Strudel," some for
+"Mr. Carmickle," and one was broad-minded
+enough to page a "Mrs. Bemis." But they all came
+back with that wan look in their eyes and a break
+in their voices.</p>
+
+<p>And each one of them was stopped by the man in
+the business suit in the downstairs dining-room and
+each time he considered it a personal affront that
+there wasn't a call for "Studz."</p>
+
+<p>Some time I'm going to have him paged, and
+when he comes out I shall untie his necktie for him.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="XIV" id="XIV"></a>XIV</h3>
+
+<h4>FOOTBALL; COURTESY OF MR. MORSE</h4>
+
+
+<p>Sunday morning these fine fall days are taken
+up with reading about the "40,000 football
+enthusiasts" or the "gaily-bedecked crowd of
+60,000 that watched the game on Saturday." And
+so they probably did, unless there were enough men
+in big fur coats who jumped up at every play and
+yelled "Now we're off!" thus obstructing the view
+of an appreciable percentage.</p>
+
+<p>But why stop at the mention of the paltry 50,000
+who sat in the Bowl or the Stadium? Why forget
+the twice 50,000 all over the country, in Chicago,
+St. Louis, San Francisco, Atlanta, who watched the
+same game over the ticker, or sat in a smoke-fogged
+room listening to telegraphic announcements, play
+by play, or who even stood on the curbing in front
+of a newspaper office and watched an impartial
+employee shove a little yellow ball along a black-board,
+usually indicating the direction in which the
+real football was <i>not</i> going. Since it is so important
+to give the exact number of people who saw the
+game, why not do the thing up right and say: "Returns
+which are now coming in from the Middle
+West, with some of the rural districts still to be
+heard from, indicate that at least 145,566 people
+watched the Yale-Princeton football game yesterday.
+Secretary Dinwoodie of the San Francisco
+Yale Club telegraphed late last night that the final
+count in that city would probably swell the total to
+a round 150,395. This is, or will be, the largest
+crowd that ever assembled in one country to watch
+a football game."</p>
+
+<p>And watching the game in this vicarious manner
+isn't so bad as the fellow who has got tickets and
+carfare to the real game would like to have it. You
+are in a warm room, where you can stretch your
+legs and regulate your remarks to the intensity of
+your emotions rather than to the sex of your neighbors.
+And as for thrills! "Dramatic suspense"
+was probably first used as a term in connection with
+this indoor sport.</p>
+
+<p>The scene is usually some college club in the city&mdash;a
+big room full of smoke and graduates. At one
+end is a scoreboard and miniature gridiron, along
+which a colored counter is moved as the telegraph
+behind the board clicks off the plays hot from the
+real gridiron. There is also an announcer, who, by
+way of clarifying the message depicted on the
+board, reads the wrong telegram in a loud, clear
+tone.</p>
+
+<p>Just as the crowd in the football arena are crouching
+down in their fur coats the better to avoid
+watching the home team fumble the kick-off, the
+crowds two and ten hundred miles away are settling
+back in their chairs and lighting up the old pipes,
+while the German-silver-tongued announcer steps to
+the front of the platform and delivers the following:</p>
+
+<p>"Yale won the toss and chose to defend the south
+goal, Princeton taking the west."</p>
+
+<p>This mistake elicits much laughter, and a witty
+graduate who has just had lunch wants to know, as
+one man to the rest of the house, if it is puss-in-the-corner
+that is being played.</p>
+
+<p>The instrument behind the board goes "Tick-ity-tick-tick-tickity."</p>
+
+<p>There is a hush, broken only by the witty graduate,
+who, encouraged by his first success, wants to
+know again if it is puss-in-the-corner that is being
+played. This fails to gain.</p>
+
+<p>"Gilblick catches the kick-off and runs the ball
+back to his own 3-yard line, where he is downed in
+his tracks," comes the announcement.</p>
+
+<p>There is a murmur of incredulity at this. The
+little ball on the board shoots to the middle of the
+field.</p>
+
+<p>"Hey, how about that?" shout several precincts.</p>
+
+<p>The announcer steps forward again.</p>
+
+<p>"That was the wrong announcement," he admits.
+"Tweedy caught the kick-off and ran the ball back
+twenty-five yards to midfield, where he is thrown
+for a loss. On the next play there was a forward
+pass, Klung to Breakwater, which&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Here the message stops. Intense excitement.</p>
+
+<p>"Tickity-tickity-tick-tickity."</p>
+
+<p>The man who has $5 on the game shuts his eyes
+and says to his neighbor: "I'll bet it was intercepted."</p>
+
+<p>A wait of two triple-space minutes while the announcer
+winds his watch. Then he steps forward.
+There is a noisy hush.</p>
+
+<p>"It is estimated that 50,000 people filed into the
+Palmer Stadium to-day to watch Yale and Princeton
+in their annual gridiron contest," he reads.
+"Yale took the field at five minutes of 2, and was
+greeted by salvos and applause and cheering from
+the Yale section. A minute later the Princeton team
+appeared, and this was a signal for the Princeton
+cohorts to rise as one man and give vent to their
+famous 'Undertaker's Song.'"</p>
+
+<p>"How about that forward pass?" This, as one
+man, from the audience.</p>
+
+<p>The ball quivers and starts to go down the field.
+A mighty shout goes up. Then something happens,
+and the ball stops, looks, listens and turns in the
+other direction. Loud groans. A wooden slide in
+the mechanism of the scoreboard rattles into place,
+upside down. Agile spectators figure out that it
+says "Pass failed."</p>
+
+<p>Every one then sinks back and says, "They
+ought not to have tried that." If the quarterback
+could hear the graduates' do-or-die backing of their
+team at this juncture he would trot into the locker
+building then and there.</p>
+
+<p>Again the clear voice from the platform:</p>
+
+<p>"Tweedy punts&mdash;" (noisy bond-salesman in back
+of room stands up on a chair and yells "Yea!"
+and is told to "Shut up" by three or four dozen
+neighbors) "to Gumble on his 15-yard line. Gumble
+fumbles."</p>
+
+<p>The noisy bond-salesman tries to lead a cheer but
+is prevented.</p>
+
+<p>Frightful tension follows. Who recovered?
+Whose ball is it? On what line? Wet palms are
+pressed against trouser legs. How about it?</p>
+
+<p>"Tick-tickity-tick-tickity-tickity-tickity."</p>
+
+<p>You can hear the announcer's boots squeak as he
+steps forward.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. A.T. Blevitch is wanted on the telephone,"
+he enunciates.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. A.T. Blevitch becomes the most unpopular
+man in that section of the country. Every one turns
+to see what a man of his stamp can look like. He
+is so embarrassed that he slinks down in his seat
+and refuses to answer the call.</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 317px;">
+<img src="images/img25_p147.jpg" width="317"
+alt="Noisy bond-salesman in back of room
+stands up on chair and yells 'Yea!'" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>"Klung goes around right end for a gain of two
+yards," is the next message from the front.</p>
+
+<p>The bond-salesman shouts "Yea!"</p>
+
+<p>"How about that fumble?" shouts every one
+else.</p>
+
+<p>The announcer goes behind the scenes to talk it
+over with the man who works the Punch-and-Judy,
+and emerges, smiling.</p>
+
+<p>"In the play preceding the one just announced,"
+he says, "Gumble fumbled and the ball was recovered
+by Breakwater, who ran ten yards for a
+touchdown&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Pandemonium! The bond-salesman leads himself
+in a cheer. The witty man says, "Nothing to it."</p>
+
+<p>There is comparative quiet again, and every one
+lights up the old pipes that have gone out.</p>
+
+<p>The announcer steps forward with his hand raised
+as if to regulate traffic.</p>
+
+<p>"There was a mistake in the announcement just
+made," he says pleasantly. "In place of 'touchdown'
+read 'touchback.' The ball is now in play
+on the 20-yard line, and Kleenwell has just gone
+through center for three yards."</p>
+
+<p>By this time no one in the audience has any definite
+idea of where the ball is or who has it. On the
+board it is hovering between midfield and second
+base.</p>
+
+<p>"On the next play Legly punts&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Block that punt! Block that punt!" warns the
+bond-salesman, as if it were the announcer who was
+opposing Legly.</p>
+
+<p>"Sit down, you poor fish!" is the consensus of
+opinion.</p>
+
+<p>"Legly punts to Klung on the latter's 25-yard
+line, where the first period ends."</p>
+
+<p>And so it goes throughout the game; the announcer
+calling out gains and the dummy football
+registering corresponding losses; Messrs. A.T.
+Blevitch and L.H. Yank being wanted on the telephone
+in the middle of forward passes; the noisy
+person in the back of the room yelling "Yea" on
+the slightest provocation and being hushed up at
+each outbreak; and every one wondering what the
+quarterback meant by calling for the plays he did.</p>
+
+<p>In smaller cities, where only a few are gathered
+together to hear the results, things are not done on
+such an elaborate scale. The dummy gridiron and
+the dummy announcer are done away with and the
+ten or a dozen rooters cluster about the news ticker,
+most of them with the intention of watching for
+just a few minutes and then going home or back to
+the office. And they always wait for just one more
+play, shifting from one foot to the other, until the
+game is over.</p>
+
+<p>About a ticker only the three or four lucky ones
+can see the tape. The rest have to stand on tip-toe
+and peer over the shoulders of the man in front.
+They don't care. Some one will always read the
+results aloud, just as a woman will read aloud the
+cut-ins at the movies. The one who is doing the
+reading usually throws in little advance predictions
+of his own when the news is slow in coming, with
+the result that those in the back get the impression
+that the team has at least a "varied attack," effecting
+at times a field goal and a forward pass in the
+same play.</p>
+
+<p>A critical period in the game, as it comes dribbling
+in over the ticker, looks something like this:</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">YALE.PRINCTON.GAME....CHEKFMKL.......KLUNG.GOES.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">AROUND.LEFT.END.FOR.A.GAIN.OF.YDS.....A.FORWARD.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">PASS.TWEEDY.TO.KLUNG.NETS.....</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">(Ticker stops ticking).</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>Murmurs of "Come on, there, whasser matter?"</p>
+
+<p>Some one suggests that the pass was illegal and
+that the whole team has been arrested.</p>
+
+<p>The ticker clears its throat. Br-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r</p>
+
+<p>The ticker stabs off a line of dots and begins:</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"BOWIE.FIRST.RACE..MEASLES. FIRST..13.60..AND..</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">6.00.WHORTLEBERRY.SCND.PLACE.3.80..EMMA GOLDMAN,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">THIRD..TIME.1.09.4.5.NON.START.PROCRASTINATION.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">UNCLE TOM'S CABIN"</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>A few choice remarks are passed in the privacy
+of the little circle, to just the effect that you would
+suspect.</p>
+
+<p>A newcomer elbows his way in and says: "What's
+the good word? Any score yet?" and some one
+replies: "Yes. The score now stands 206 to 0 in
+favor of Notre Dame." This grim pleasantry is expressive
+of the sentiment of the group toward newcomers.
+It is each man for himself now.</p>
+
+<p>Br-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r!</p>
+
+<p>"Here she comes, now!" whispers the man who is hanging over the glass
+news terminal, reading aloud: "Yale-Princeton-Game-Second Quarter
+(Good-night, what became of that forward pass in the first quarter?)
+Yale's-ball-in-mid-field-Hornung-takes-ball-around-left-end-making-it-
+first-down-Tinfoil-drops-back-for-a-try-at-a-field-goal. (Oh, boy!
+Come on, now!)"</p>
+
+<p>"Why the deuce do they try a field goal on the
+first down?" asks a querulous graduate-strategist.
+"Now, what he ought to do is to keep a-plugging
+there at tackle, where he has been going&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Br-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r!</p>
+
+<p>"Bet he missed it!" offers some one with vague
+gambling instincts.</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"..INS.NEEDLES..1&frac14;..ZINC..CON..4&frac12;..WASHN..</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">THE CENSUS.OFFICE.ESTIMATES.THE CONSUMPTION.OF</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">COTTON.WASTE.IN.THE.MFGR.OF.AUTOMBLE.HOODS.AS.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">66.991.059 LBS..INCLUDING.LINTERS.AND.HULL FIBER.."</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>And just then some one comes in from the outside,
+all fresh and disagreeably cheery, and wants
+to know what the score is and if there have been
+many forward passes tried and who is playing
+quarter for Yale, and if any one has got a cigarette.</p>
+
+<p>It is really just the same sort of program as obtains
+in the big college club, only on a small scale.
+They are all watching the same game and they are
+all wishing the same thing and before their respective
+minds' eyes is the picture of the same stadium,
+with the swarm of queen bees and drones clinging
+to its sides. And every time that you, who are one
+of the cold and lucky ones with a real ticket, see a
+back break loose for a long run and hear the explosion
+of hoarse shouts that follows, you may count
+sixty and then listen to hear the echo from every big
+city in the country where the old boys have just
+got the news.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="XV" id="XV"></a>XV</h3>
+
+<h4>A LITTLE DEBIT IN YOUR TONNEAU</h4>
+
+
+<p>Motorists, as a class, are not averse to
+public discussion of their troubles. In fact,
+one often wonders how some of them ever get time
+to operate their cars, so tied up do they seem to be
+with these little experience-meetings, at which one
+man tells, with appropriate gestures, how he ran out
+of gas between Springfield and Worcester, while
+another gives a perfect bit of character acting to
+show just how the policeman on the outskirts of
+Trenton behaved.</p>
+
+<p>But there seems to be one phase of the motorist's
+trials which he never bares to the public. He will
+confide to you just how bad the gasoline was that
+he bought at the country garage; he will make it an
+open secret that he had four blow-outs on the way
+home from the country-club; but of one of his most
+poignant sorrows he never speaks. I refer to the
+guests who snuggle in his tonneau.</p>
+
+<p>Probably more irritations have arisen from the
+tonneau than from the tires, day in and day out, and
+yet you never hear a man say, "Well, I certainly
+had an unholy crew of camp-followers out with me
+to-day&mdash;friends of my wife." Say what you will,
+there is an innate delicacy in the average motorist,
+or such repression could not be.</p>
+
+<p>Consider the types of tonneau guests. They are
+as generic and fundamental as the spectrum and you
+will find them in Maine and New Mexico at the
+same time.</p>
+
+<p>There is the first, or major, classification, which
+may be designated as the Financially Paralyzed.
+Persons in this class, on stepping into your machine,
+automatically transfer all their money troubles to
+you. You become, for the duration of the ride,
+whether it be to the next corner or to Palm Beach,
+their financial guardian, and any little purchases
+which are incidental to the trip (such as three meals
+a day) belong to your list of running expenses.
+There seems to be something about the motion of
+the automobile that inhibits their ability to reach
+for their purses, and they become, if you want to
+be poetical about it, like clay in the hands of the
+potter. Whither thou goest they will go; thy check-book
+is their check-book. It is just like the one
+great, big, jolly family&mdash;of which you are the father
+and backer.</p>
+
+<p>Such people always make a great to-do about
+starting off on a trip. You call for them and they
+appear at the window and wave, to signify that they
+see you, and go through motions to show that just
+as soon as Clara has put on her leggings they will
+be down. Soon they appear, swathed in a tremendous
+quantity of motor wraps and veils (you can
+usually tell the guests in a car by the number of
+head-veils they wear) and get halfway down the
+walk, when Clara remembers her rain-coat and has
+to swish back upstairs, veils and all. Out again, and
+just as they get wedged into the tonneau, the elderly
+guest wonders if there is time for some one to run
+in again and tell Helma that if the Salvation Army
+man comes for the old magazines she is to tell him
+to come again to-morrow. By the time this message
+is relayed to Helma Garcia one solid half-hour has
+been dissipated from the cream of the morning.
+This does not prevent the guests from remarking, as
+the motor starts, that it certainly is a heavenly day
+and that it couldn't have been better if it had been
+ordered. Knowing the type, you can say to yourself
+that if the day <i>had</i> been ordered you know who
+would have had to give the order and pay the check.</p>
+
+<p>From that time on, you are the moneyed interest
+behind the venture. Meals at road-houses, toll
+charges, evening papers, hot chocolates at the country
+drug store, hair net for Clara, and, of course, a
+liberal injection of gasoline on the way home, all of
+these items and about fourteen others come in your
+bailiwick. The guests have been asked out for a
+ride, and "findings is keepings." If you have
+money enough to run a car, you probably have
+money enough to support them for a day or so.
+That's only fair, isn't it?</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 409px;">
+<img src="images/img26_p156.jpg" width="409"
+alt="He always has a quip to snap at you to keep you
+cheered up." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Under a sub-head (a), in this same category,
+come the guests who are stricken with <i>rigor mortis</i>
+when there are any repairs to be made about the
+machine. Male offenders in this line are, of course,
+the only ones that can be dealt with here; putting
+on a tire is no job for women and children. But the
+man who is the life of the party in the tonneau
+throughout the trip, who thinks nothing of climbing
+all over the back of the car in imitation of a Roman
+charioteer, will suddenly become an advocate of the
+basic eight-hour working day which began just eight
+hours before, whenever there is a man's work to be
+done on one of the tires. He will watch you while
+you work, and always has a good word to say or a
+quip to snap at you to keep you cheered up, but
+when it comes to taking off his coat and lending a
+hand at the jack he is an Oriental incense-holder on
+the guest-room mantel. He admits in no uncertain
+tones, that he is a perfect dub when it comes to
+handling machinery and that he is more apt to be
+in the way at a time like this than not. And maybe
+he is right, after all.</p>
+
+<p>We next come to the class of tonneau-freight who
+are great believers in what Professor Muensterberg
+called "Auto-Suggestion." These people, although
+not seated in the driver's seat, have their own ideas
+on driving and spare no pains to put their theories
+in the form of suggestions. In justice to the Great
+Army of the Unemployed known as "guests" it
+must be admitted that a large percentage of these
+suggestions emanate from some member of the owner's
+family and not from outsiders. It is very often
+Mrs. Wife who is off-side in this play, but as she is
+usually in the tonneau, she comes under the same
+classification.</p>
+
+<p>There are various ways of framing suggestions to
+the driver from the back seat. They are all equally
+annoying. Among the best are:</p>
+
+<p>"For heaven's sake, George, turn in a little.
+There is a car behind that wants to pass us."</p>
+
+<p>"Look out where you're going, Stan."</p>
+
+<p>"Henry, if you don't slow down I'm going to get
+out and take the train back home."</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 409px;">
+<img src="images/img27_p158.jpg" width="409"
+alt="If this is accompanied with a clutching gesture at the driver's
+arm, it is sure to throw him into a good humor." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>If this is accompanied by a clutching gesture at
+the driver's arm it is sure to throw him into a good
+humor for the rest of the trip, so that a good time
+will be had by all present.</p>
+
+<p>Although guests are not so prone to make suggestions
+on the running of the car as are those who,
+through the safety of family connection, may do so
+without fear of bodily assault from the driver, nevertheless,
+a guest may, according to the code, lean
+over the back of the seat and slip little hints as to
+the route. Especially if one of them be entrusted
+with a Blue Book does this form of auto-suggestion
+become chronic.</p>
+
+<p>"It says here that we should have taken that road
+to the right back there by the Soldiers' Monument,"
+informs the reader over your shoulder. Or&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Somehow this doesn't seem like the right road.
+Personally, I think that we ought to turn around
+and go back to the cross-roads."</p>
+
+<p>If it is Mrs. Wife in the tonneau who has her own
+ideas on the route, you might as well give in at her
+first suggestion, for the risk that she is right is too
+great to run. If she says that she would advise taking
+the lane that runs around behind that school-house,
+take it. Then, if it turns out to be a blind
+alley, you have the satisfaction of saying nothing,
+very eloquently and effectively. But if you refuse
+to take her suggestion, and your road turns out to
+be even halfway wrong, you might as well turn the
+wheel over to your little son and go South for the
+winter, for you will never hear the ultimate cry of
+triumph. Your season will practically be ruined. I
+can quote verbatim from the last affair of this kind:</p>
+
+<p>(Voice from the tonneau): "Albert, I think we
+ought to have taken the road at the left."</p>
+
+<p>"No, we hadn't."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sure of it. I saw a sign which said: 'Paxton'
+on it."</p>
+
+<p>"No, you didn't."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you wait and see."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm waiting."</p>
+
+<p>There is a silence for ten minutes, while the car
+jounces along a road which gets narrower and
+rockier.</p>
+
+<p>(Voice from the tonneau): "I suppose you think
+this is the way to Paxton?"</p>
+
+<p>"I certainly <i>do</i>."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you make me sick!"</p>
+
+<p>Silence and jounces.</p>
+
+<p>Sudden stop as the road ends at a silo.</p>
+
+<p>"I beg your pardon [addressed to a rustic],
+which is the road to Paxton?"</p>
+
+<p>"Paxton?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"The road to Paxton?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you go back over the rud you just come
+over, about three mile, till you come to a rud turnin'
+off to the right with a sign which says 'Paxton.'"</p>
+
+<p>(Voice from the tonneau, beginning at this point
+and continuing all of the way back, all the rest of
+the day and night, and until snow falls): "<i>There!</i>
+what did I tell you? But, oh no, you know it all.
+Didn't I tell you"&mdash;etc., etc.</p>
+
+<p>On the whole, it would seem that the artists who
+draw the automobile advertisements make a mistake
+in drawing the tonneau so roomy and so full of people.
+There should be no tonneau.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="XVI" id="XVI"></a>XVI</h3>
+
+<h4>A ROMANCE IN ENCYCLOPÆDIA LAND</h4>
+
+<p class="cap_ctr"><i>Written After Three Hours' Browsing in a New Britannica Set</i></p>
+
+
+<p>Picture to yourself an early spring afternoon
+along the banks of the river Aa, which, rising
+in the Teutoburger Wald, joins the Werre at Herford
+and is navigable as far as St. Omer.</p>
+
+<p>Branching <i>bryophytu</i> spread their flat, dorsi-ventral
+bodies, closely applied to the sub-stratum on
+which they grew, and leafy carophyllaceæ twined
+their sepals in prodigal profusion, lending a touch of
+color to the scene. It was
+clear that nature was in
+preparation for her estivation.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 210px;">
+<img src="images/img28_p161.jpg" width="210"
+alt="Was playing softly to
+himself on a double curtail
+or converted bass-pommer." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>But it was not this
+which attracted the eye of
+the young man who, walking
+along the phonolithic
+formation of the river-bank,
+was playing softly to himself on a double curtail,
+or converted bass-pommer, an octave below the
+single curtail and therefore identical in pitch and
+construction with the early <i>fagotto</i> in C.</p>
+
+<p>His mind was on other things.</p>
+
+<p>He was evidently of Melanochronic extraction,
+with the pentagonal facial angle and strong obital
+ridges, but he combined with this the fine lines of a
+full-blooded native of Coll, where, indeed, he was
+born, seven miles west of Caliach Point, in Mull,
+and in full view of the rugged gneiss.</p>
+
+<p>As he swung along, there throbbed again and
+again through his brain the beautiful opening paragraph
+of Frantisek Palacky's (1798-1876) "<i>Zur
+böhmischen Geschichtschreibung</i>" (Prague, 1871),
+written just after the author had refused a portfolio
+in the Pillersdorf Cabinet and had also declined to
+take part in the preliminary diet at Kromerice.</p>
+
+<p>"If <i>he</i> could believe such things, why can not
+I?" murmured the young man, and crushed a
+ginkgo beneath his feet. Young men are often so.
+It is due to the elaterium of spring.</p>
+
+<p>"By Ereshkigal," he swore softly to himself, "I'll
+do it."</p>
+<div class="figright" style="width: 172px;">
+<img src="images/img29_p163.jpg" width="172"
+alt="He came suddenly out
+of the tangle of gymnosperms." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>No sooner had he spoken than he came suddenly
+out of the tangle of gymnosperms through whose
+leaves, needle-like and destitute of oil-glands as they
+were, he had been making his way, and emerged to a
+full view of the broad sweep of the Lake of Zug,
+just where the Lorze enters at its northern extremity
+and one and a quarter miles east of where it issues
+again to pursue its course toward the Reuss. Zug,
+at this point, is 1,368 feet above sea-level, and
+boasted its first steamer in 1852.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," he sighed, as he gazed upon the broad
+area of subsidence, "if I
+were now an exarch, whose
+dignity was, at one time, intermediate
+between the Patriarchal
+and the Metropolitan
+and from whose name
+has come that of the politico-religious
+party, the Exarchists,
+I should not be here
+day-dreaming. I should be
+far away in Footscray, a city
+of Bourke County, Victoria,
+Australia, pop. (1901) 18,301."</p>
+
+
+<p>And as he said this his eyes filled with tears, and
+under his skin, brown as fustic, there spread a faint
+flush, such as is often formed by citrocyde, or by
+pyrochloric acid when acting on uncured leather.</p>
+
+<p>Far down in the valley the natives were celebrating
+the birthday of Gambrinus, a mythical Flemish
+king who is credited with the first brewing of beer.
+The sound of their voices set in motion longitudinal
+sound waves, and these, traveling through the surrounding
+medium, met the surface separating two
+media and were in part reflected, traveling back
+from the surface into the first medium again with
+the velocity with which they approached it, as depicted
+in Fig. 10. This caused the echo for which
+the Lake of Zug is justly famous.</p>
+
+<p>The twilight began to deepen and from far above
+came the twinkling signals of, first, Böotes, then
+Coma Berenices, followed, awhile later, by Ursa
+Major and her little brother, Ursa Minor.</p>
+
+<p>"The stars are clear to-night," he sighed. "I
+wonder if they are visible from the dacite elevation
+on which SHE lives."</p>
+
+<p>His was an untrained mind. His only school had
+been the Eleatic School, the contention of which was
+that the true explanation of things lies in the conception
+of a universal unity of being, or the All-ness
+of One.</p>
+
+<p>But he knew what he liked.</p>
+
+<p>In the calm light of the stars he felt as if a uban
+had been lifted from his heart, 5 ubans being equal
+to 1 quat, 6 quats to 1 ammat and 120 ammats to
+1 sos.</p>
+
+<p>He was free again.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 188px;">
+<img src="images/img30_p165.jpg" width="188"
+alt="She turned like a frightened
+aardvark. \(Male,
+greatly reduced.\)" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Turning, he walked swiftly down into the valley,
+passing returning peasants with their baa-poots, and
+soon came in sight of the
+shining lamps of the small
+but carefully built pooroos
+which lined the road.</p>
+
+<p>Reaching the corner he
+saw the village epi peering
+over the tree-tops, and
+swarms of cicada, with the
+toothed famoras of their anterior
+legs mingling in a
+sleepy drone, like
+many cichlids. It was all
+very home-like to the wanderer.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly there appeared
+on a neighboring
+eminence a party of guisards,
+such as, during the
+Saturnalia, and from the
+Nativity till the Epiphany
+were accustomed to disport
+themselves in odd
+costumes; all clad in
+clouting, and evidently returning
+from taking part
+in the celebration.</p>
+
+
+
+<p>As they drew nearer,
+our hero noticed a young woman in the front rank
+who was playing folk-songs on a cromorne with a
+double-reed mouth-piece enclosed in an air-reservoir.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 196px;">
+<img src="images/img31_p165.jpg" width="196"
+alt="Barnaby Bernard Weenix. \(1777-1829.\)" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>In spite of the detritus
+wrought by the festival,
+there was something familiar
+about the buccinator
+of her face and her
+little mannerism of elevating
+her second phalanx.
+It struck him like the flash
+of a cloud highly charged
+by the coalescence of
+drops of vapor. He approached
+her, tenderly,
+reverently.</p>
+
+
+
+<p>"Lange, Anne Françoise Elizabeth," he said,
+"I know you. You are
+a French actress, born in
+Genoa on the seventeenth of September, 1772, and
+you made your first appearance on the stage in
+<i>L'Ecossaise</i> in 1788. Your talent and your beauty
+gave you an enormous success in <i>Pamela</i>. It has
+taken me years to find you, but now we are united
+at last."</p>
+
+
+<p>The girl turned like a frightened aardvark, still
+holding the cromorne in her hand. Then she smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"Weenix, Barnaby Bernard (1777-1829)," she
+said very slowly, "you started business as a publisher
+in London about 1797."</p>
+
+<p>They looked at each other for a moment in silence.
+He was the first to speak.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 207px;">
+<img src="images/img32_p166.jpg" width="207"
+alt="Why
+not to Wem? (From a contemporaneous print.)" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>"Miss Lange, Anne," he said, "let us go together
+to Lar&mdash;and be happy there&mdash;happy as two ais, or
+three-toed South American sloths."</p>
+
+<p>She lowered her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"I will go with you Mr. Weenix-Barney," she
+said, "to the ends of the earth. But why to Lar?
+Why not to Wem?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because," said the young man, "Lar is the capital
+of Laristan, in 27 degrees, 30 minutes N., 180
+miles from Shiraz, and contains an old bazaar consisting
+of four arcades each 180 feet long."</p>
+
+<p>Their eyes met, and she placed her hands in his.</p>
+
+<p>And, from the woods, came the mellow whinnying
+of a herd of vip, the wool of which is highly valued
+for weaving.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="XVII" id="XVII"></a>XVII</h3>
+
+<h4>THE PASSING OF THE ORTHODOX PARADOX</h4>
+
+
+<p>Whatever irreparable harm may have been
+done to Society by the recent epidemic of
+crook, sex and other dialect plays, one great alleviation
+has resulted. They have driven up-stage, for
+the time being, the characters who exist on tea and
+repartee in "The drawing-room of Sir Arthur
+Peaversham's town house, Grosvenor Square. Time:
+late Autumn."</p>
+
+<p>A person in a crook play may have talked underworld
+patois which no self-respecting criminal would
+have allowed himself to utter, but he did not sit on
+a divan and evolve abnormal <i>bons mots</i> with each
+and every breath. The misguided and misinformed
+daughter in the Self and Sex Play may have lisped
+words which only an interne should hear, but she
+did not offer a succession of brilliant but meaningless
+paradoxes as a substitute for real conversation.</p>
+
+<p>Continuously snappy back-talk is now encountered
+chiefly in such acts as those of "Cooney &amp;
+LeBlanc, the Eccentric Comedy Dancing Team."</p>
+
+<p>And even <i>they</i> manage to scrape along without the
+paradoxes.</p>
+
+<p>But there was a time, beginning with the Oscar
+Wilde era, when no unprotected thought was safe.</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 438px;">
+<img src="images/img33_p169.jpg" width="438"
+alt="Snappy back-talk is now encountered
+chiefly in such acts as 'Cooney &amp;
+LeBlanc, the Eccentric Comedy Dancing Team.'" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>It might be seized at any moment by an English
+Duke or a Lady Agatha and strangled to death.
+Even the butlers in the late 'eighties were wits, and
+served epigrams with cucumber sandwiches; and a
+person entering one of these drawing-rooms and
+talking in connected sentences&mdash;easily understood
+by everybody&mdash;each with one subject, predicate and
+meaning, would have been looked upon as a high
+class moron. One might as well have gone to a dinner
+at Lady Coventry's without one's collar, as without
+one's kit of trained paradoxes.</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 457px;">
+<img src="images/img34_p170.jpg" width="457"
+alt="The butlers served epigrams with the cucumber sandwiches." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>A late Autumn afternoon in one of these semi-Oscar
+Wilde plays, for instance, would run something
+like this:</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p>SCENE&mdash;<i>The Octagon Room in Lord Raymond
+Eaveston's Manor House in Stropshire.</i></p>
+
+<p class="center">LADY EAVESTON and SIR THOMAS WAFFLETON<br/>
+<i>are discovered, arranging red flowers in a vase</i>.</p>
+
+<p>SIR T.: I detest red flowers; they are so yellow.</p>
+
+<p>LADY E.: What a cynic you are, Sir Thomas. I
+really must not listen to you or I shall hear something
+that you say.</p>
+
+<p>SIR T.: Not at all, my dear Lady Eaveston. I
+detest people who listen closely; they are so inattentive.</p>
+
+<p>LADY E.: Pray do not be analytical, my dear Sir
+Thomas. When people are extremely analytical
+with me I am sure that they are superficial, and, to
+me, nothing is more abominable than superficiality,
+unless perhaps it is an intolerable degree of thoroughness.</p>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>Enter Meadows, the Butler</i>)</p>
+
+<p>MEADOWS (<i>announcing</i>): Sir Mortimer Longley
+and Mrs. Wrennington,&mdash;a most remarkable couple,&mdash;I
+may say in announcing them,&mdash;in that there is
+nothing at all remarkable about them.</p>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>Enter Sir Mortimer and Mrs. Wrennington</i>)</p>
+
+<p>MRS. W.: So sorry to be late, dear Lady Eaveston.
+But it is so easy to be on time that I always
+make it a point to be late. It lends poise, and poise
+is a charming quality for any woman to have, am I
+not right, Sir Thomas?</p>
+
+<p>SIR T.: You are always right, my dear Mrs.
+Wrennington, and never more so than now, for I
+know of no more attractive attribute than poise, unless
+perhaps it be embarrassment.</p>
+
+<p>LADY E.: What horrid cynics you men are!
+Really, Sir Thomas, one might think, from your
+sophisticated remarks that you had been brought
+up in the country and had seen nothing of life.</p>
+
+<p>SIR T.: And so I <i>have</i> been, my dear Lady Eaveston.
+To my mind, London is nothing but the country,
+and certainly Stropshire is nothing but a
+metropolis. The difference is, that when one is in
+town, one lives with others, and when one is in the
+country, others live with one. And both plans are
+abominable.</p>
+
+<p>MRS. W.: What a horrid combination! I hate
+horrid combinations; they always turn out to be so
+extremely pleasant.</p>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>Enter Meadows</i>)</p>
+
+<p>MEADOWS (<i>announcing</i>): Sir Roland Pinshamton;
+Viscount Lemingham; Countess Trotski and
+Mr. Peters. In announcing these parties I cannot
+refrain from remarking that it has always been my
+opinion that a man who intends to get married
+should either know something or nothing, preferably
+both.</p>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>Exit Meadows</i>)</p>
+
+<p>COUNTESS T.: So sorry to be late, my dear Lady
+Eaveston. It was charmingly tolerant of you to
+have us.</p>
+
+<p>LADY E.: Invitations are never tolerant, my dear
+Countess; acceptances always are. But do tell me,
+how is your husband, the Count,&mdash;or perhaps he is
+no longer your husband. One never knows these
+days whether a man is his wife's husband or whether
+she is simply his wife.</p>
+
+<p>COUNTESS T. (<i>lighting a cigarette</i>): Really, Lady
+Eaveston, you grow more and more interesting. I
+detest interesting people; they are so hopelessly uninteresting.
+It is like beautiful people&mdash;who are
+usually so singularly unbeautiful. Has not that been
+your experience, Sir Mortimer?</p>
+
+<p>SIR M.: May I have the pleasure of escorting you
+to the music-room, Mrs. Wrennington?</p>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>Exeunt omnes to music-room for dinner</i>)</p>
+
+<p class="center">Curtain.</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p>It is from this that we have, in a measure, been
+delivered by the court-room scenes, and all the
+medical dramas. But the paradox still remains intrenched
+in English writing behind Mr. G.K. Chesterton,
+and he may be considered, by literary tacticians,
+as considerable stronghold.</p>
+
+<p>Here again we find our commonplaces shaken up
+until they emerge in what looks like a new and tremendously
+imposing shape, and all of them ostensibly
+proving the opposite of what we have always
+understood. If we do not quite catch the precise
+meaning at first reading, we lay it to our imperfect
+perception and try to do better on the next one. It
+seldom occurs to us that it really may have no meaning
+at all and never was intended to have any, any
+more than the act of hanging by your feet from
+parallel bars has any further significance than that
+you can manage to do it.</p>
+
+<p>So, before retiring to the privacy of our personal
+couches, let us thank an all wise Providence, that
+the drama-paradox has passed away.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="XVIII" id="XVIII"></a>XVIII</h3>
+
+<h4>SHAKESPEARE EXPLAINED</h4>
+
+<p class="cap_ctr"><i>Carrying on the System of Footnotes to a Silly Extreme</i></p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p class="center">PERICLES</p>
+
+<p class="center">ACT II. SCENE 3</p>
+
+<p><i>Enter first Lady-in-Waiting</i> (<i>Flourish</i>,
+<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1"
+class="fnanchor">[1]</a> <i>Hautboys</i><a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a>
+<a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> <i>and</i><a name="FNanchor_3_3"
+id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a>
+<i>torches</i><a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4"
+class="fnanchor">[4]</a>).</p>
+
+<p><i>First Lady-in-Waiting</i>&mdash;<i>What</i><a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a>
+<a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> <i>ho!</i><a name="FNanchor_6_6"
+id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a>
+<i>Where</i><a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7"
+class="fnanchor">[7]</a> <i>is</i><a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a>
+<a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> <i>the</i><a name="FNanchor_9_9"
+id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a>
+<i>music?</i><a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10"
+class="fnanchor">[10]</a></p>
+
+
+<p class="center">NOTES</p>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> <i>Flourish</i>: The stage direction here is obscure. Clarke claims it
+should read "flarish," thus changing the meaning of the passage to
+"flarish" (that is, the King's), but most authorities have agreed that
+it should remain "flourish," supplying the predicate which is to be
+flourished. There was at this time a custom in the countryside of
+England to flourish a mop as a signal to the passing vender of
+berries, signifying that in that particular household there was a
+consumer-demand for berries, and this may have been meant in this
+instance. That Shakespeare was cognizant of this custom of flourishing
+the mop for berries is shown in a similar passage in the second part
+of King Henry IV, where he has the Third Page enter and say,
+"Flourish." Cf. also Hamlet, IV, 7:4.</p></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 330px;">
+<img src="images/img35_p176.jpg" width="330"
+alt="Might be one of the hautboys bearing a box
+of 'trognies' for the actors to suck." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> <i>Hautboys</i>, from the French <i>haut</i>, meaning "high" and the Eng.
+<i>boys</i>, meaning "boys." The word here is doubtless used in the sense
+of "high boys," indicating either that Shakespeare intended to convey
+the idea of spiritual distress on the part of the First
+Lady-in-Waiting or that he did not. Of this Rolfe says: "Here we have
+one of the chief indications of Shakespeare's knowledge of human
+nature, his remarkable insight into the petty foibles of this
+work-a-day world." Cf. T.N. 4:6, "Mine eye hath play'd the painter,
+and hath stell'd thy beauty's form in table of my heart."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> <i>and</i>. A favorite conjunctive of Shakespeare's in referring to the
+need for a more adequate navy for England. Tauchnitz claims that it
+should be pronounced "und," stressing the anti-penult. This
+interpretation, however, has found disfavor among most commentators
+because of its limited significance. We find the same conjunctive in
+A.W.T.E.W. 6:7, "Steel-boned, unyielding <i>and</i> uncomplying virtue,"
+and here there can be no doubt that Shakespeare meant that if the King
+should consent to the marriage of his daughter the excuse of Stephano,
+offered in Act 2, would carry no weight.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> <i>Torches</i>. The interpolation of some foolish player and never the
+work of Shakespeare (Warb.). The critics of the last century have
+disputed whether or not this has been misspelled in the original, and
+should read "trochies" or "troches." This might well be since the
+introduction of tobacco into England at this time had wrought havoc
+with the speaking voices of the players, and we might well imagine
+that at the entrance of the First Lady-in-Waiting there might be
+perhaps one of the hautboys mentioned in the preceding passage bearing
+a box of troches or "trognies" for the actors to suck. Of this
+entrance Clarke remarks: "The noble mixture of spirited firmness and
+womanly modesty, fine sense and true humility, clear sagacity and
+absence of conceit, passionate warmth and sensitive delicacy, generous
+love and self-diffidence with which Shakespeare has endowed this First
+Lady-in-Waiting renders her in our eyes one of the most admirable of
+his female characters." Cf. M.S.N.D. 8:9, "That solder'st close
+impossibilities and mak'st them kiss."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> <i>What</i>&mdash;What.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> <i>Ho!</i>. In conjunction with the preceding word doubtless means "What
+ho!" changed by Clarke to "What hoo!" In the original MS. it reads
+"What hi!" but this has been accredited to the tendency of the time to
+write "What hi" when "what ho" was meant. Techner alone maintains that
+it should read "What humpf!" Cf. Ham. 5:0, "High-ho!"</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> <i>Where</i>. The reading of the folio, retained by Johnson, the
+Cambridge editors and others, but it is not impossible that
+Shakespeare wrote "why," as Pope and others give it. This would make
+the passage read "Why the music?" instead of "Where is the music?"
+and would be a much more probable interpretation in view of the music
+of that time. Cf. George Ade. Fable No. 15, "Why the gunny-sack?"</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> <i>is</i>&mdash;is not. That is, would not be.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> <i>the</i>. Cf. Ham.4:6. M.S.N.D. 3:5. A.W.T.E.W. 2:6. T.N. 1:3 and
+Macbeth 3:1, "that knits up <i>the</i> raveled sleeves of care."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> <i>music</i>. Explained by Malone as "the art of making music" or
+"music that is made." If it has but one of these meanings we are
+inclined to think it is the first; and this seems to be favored by
+what precedes, "<i>the</i> music!" Cf. M. of V. 4:2, "The man that hath no
+music in himself."</p></div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="XIX" id="XIX"></a>XIX</h3>
+
+<h4>THE SCIENTIFIC SCENARIO</h4>
+
+
+<p>Sooner or later some one is going to come out
+and say that the movies are too low-brow. I
+can just see it coming. Maybe some one has said
+it already, without its having been brought to my
+attention, as I have been very busy for the past
+two weeks on my yearly accounts (my accounts for
+the year 1920, I mean. What with one thing and
+another, I am a bit behind in my budget system).</p>
+
+<p>And whenever this denouncement of the movies
+takes place, the first thing that is going to be specifically
+criticized is the type of story which is now
+utilized for scenarios. How can a nation hope to
+inject any culture in the minds of its people if it
+feeds them with moving-picture stories dealing with
+elemental emotions like love, hate, and a passion
+for evening-dress? Scenarios to-day have no cultural
+background. That's the trouble with them.
+They have no cultural background.</p>
+
+<p>Now, if we are to make the movies count for
+anything in the mental development of our people,
+we must build them of sterner stuff. We must make
+them from stories and books which are of the mind
+rather than of the body. The action should be
+cerebral, rather than physical, and instead of thrilling
+at the sight of two horsemen galloping along a
+cliff, we should be given the opportunity of seeing
+two opposing minds doing a rough-and-tumble on
+the edge of a nice problem in Dialectics or Metaphysics.</p>
+
+<p>I would suggest as a book, from which a pretty
+little scenario might be made, "The Education of
+Henry Adams." This volume has had a remarkable
+success during the past year among the highly educated
+classes. Public library records show that more
+people have lied about having read it than any
+other book in a decade. It contains five hundred
+pages of mental masochism, in which the author tortures
+himself for not getting anywhere in his brain
+processes. He just simply can't seem to get any
+further than the evolution of an elementary Dynamic
+Theory of History or a dilettante dabbling
+with a Law of Acceleration. And he came of a bright
+family, too.</p>
+
+<p>I don't go in much for scenario writing myself,
+but I am willing to help along the cause of better
+moving-pictures by offering herewith an outline for
+a six-reel feature entitled "THE EDUCATION
+OF HENRY ADAMS; or WHY MINDS GO
+WRONG."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="CAST_OF_CHARACTERS" id="CAST_OF_CHARACTERS"></a><i>CAST OF CHARACTERS</i></h3>
+
+<p><i>Henry Adams.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Left Frontal Brain Lobe.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Right Frontal Brain Lobe.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Manservant.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Crowd of Villagers, Reflexes, Complexes, and Mental Processes.</i></p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p>The first scene is, according to the decorated caption:
+"IN THE HARVARD COLLEGE STUDY OF HENRY
+ADAMS, SCION OF AN OLD NEW ENGLAND FAMILY,
+THE NIGHT BEFORE THE BIG CEREBRAL FUNCTION
+OF HIS YOUNG MANHOOD."</p>
+
+<p>Henry Adams, a Junior, is discovered sitting at his
+desk in his room in Holworthy Hall. He has a notebook
+on the Glacial Period and Palæontology open
+in front of him. He is thinking of his Education.
+(<i>Flash-back showing courses taken since Freshman
+year. Pianist plays "Carry Me Back to Old Virginie."</i>)
+He bites his under lip and turns a page of
+his notes.</p>
+
+<p>Caption: "DOES TRANSCENDENTALISM HOLD THE
+KEY?... I WONDER...."</p>
+
+<p>(<i>Fade-out showing him biting his upper lip, still
+thinking</i>.)</p>
+
+<p>The second scene is laid in Rome.</p>
+
+<p>Caption: "HERE, AFTER A YEAR'S WANDERING
+THROUGH THE HAPPY, SMILING LANDS OF EUROPE,
+COMES YOUNG HENRY ADAMS IN HIS SEARCH FOR
+EDUCATION. AND NOW, IN THE SHADOW OF ANCIENT
+ROME, HE FINDS PEACE, BUT NOT THAT
+PEACE FOR WHICH HE SOUGHT."</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 422px;">
+<img src="images/img36_p183.jpg" width="422"
+alt="Thrilling moment in 'The Education of Henry Adams.'" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>He is discovered sitting on a rock among the ruins
+of the Capitol, thinking. He tosses a pebble from
+one hand to another and scowls. The shadows
+deepen, and he rises, passing his hand across his
+brow. (<i>Flash-back showing the Latin verbs which
+govern the dative case. Pianist plays: "The March
+of the Jolly Grenadiers."</i>)</p>
+
+<p>He walks slowly to the <i>Museo Nazionale</i>, where
+he stands pondering before a statue of Venus, thinking
+about Roman art and history&mdash;and about his
+Education.</p>
+
+<p>Caption: "CAN ALL THIS BE FITTED INTO A
+TIME-SEQUENCE? CAN RIENZI, GARIBALDI. TIBERIUS
+GRACCHUS, AURELIAN, ANY OF THESE FAMOUS
+NAMES OF ROME, BE ADAPTED TO A SYSTEMATIC
+SCHEME OF EVOLUTION? NO, NO ... A
+THOUSAND TIMES, NO!"</p>
+
+<p>He sinks down on a rock and weeps bitterly.</p>
+
+<p>The next scene is in England and our hero is found
+sitting at a desk in his study in London. He is gazing
+into space&mdash;thinking.</p>
+
+<p>Caption: "AND SO, ALL THROUGH THE LONG,
+WEARY SUMMER, HENRY ADAMS SAT, HEAD IN
+HAND, WONDERING IF DARWIN WAS RIGHT. TO
+HIM THE GLACIAL EPOCH SEEMED LIKE A YAWNING
+CHASM BETWEEN A UNIFORMITARIAN WORLD
+AND HIMSELF. IF THE GLACIAL PERIOD WERE UNIFORMITY,
+WHAT WAS CATASTROPHE?... AND TO
+THIS QUESTION, THE COOL OF THE SUMMER'S
+EVENING IN SHROPSHIRE BROUGHT NO RELIEF."</p>
+
+<p>He rises slowly and goes to the book-shelves, from
+which he draws a copy of "The Origin of Species."
+Placing it before him on the desk he turns the pages
+slowly until he comes to one which holds his attention.</p>
+
+<p><i>Close-up of page 126, on which is read</i>: "It is
+notorious that specific characters are more variable
+than generic....</p>
+
+
+<table cellpadding="3">
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td><i>Feet</i></td></tr>
+<tr><td>Palæzoic strata (not including
+igneous beds)</td><td class="tdr">57,154&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Secondary strata</td><td class="tdr">13,190&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Tertiary strata</td><td class="tdr">2,400&quot;</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>The book drops to the floor from his nerveless
+fingers and he buries his head in his arms, sobbing.
+(Music: <i>"When You and I Were Young, Maggie."</i>)</p>
+
+<p>"TWENTY YEARS AFTER ... HENRY ADAMS IS
+NO LONGER YOUNG, BUT IN HIS HEART LIES STILL
+THE HUNGER FOR EDUCATION. GOING FORWARD,
+EVER FORWARD, HE REALIZES AS NEVER BEFORE
+THAT WITHOUT THOUGHT IN THE UNIT, THERE
+CAN BE NO UNITY. THOUGHT ALONE IS FORM.
+MIND AND UNITY FLOURISH OR PERISH TOGETHER."</p>
+
+<p>(<i>Allegorical flash-back showing Mind and Unity
+perishing together.</i>)</p>
+
+<p>The hero is now seen seated in a Morris chair in
+Washington, touching his finger-tips together in a
+ruminative manner. Arising slowly, he goes to the
+window and looks out over Lafayette Square. Then
+he lights a cigar and goes back to his chair. He
+is pondering and attempting to determine when, between
+3000 B.C. and 1000 A.D. the momentum of Europe
+was greatest, as exemplified in mathematics by
+such masters as Archimedes, Aristarchus, Ptolemy
+and Euclid.</p>
+
+<p>(<i>Flash-back showing the mathematical theories
+of Archimedes, Aristarchus, Ptolemy and Euclid.
+Music: "Old Ireland Shall Be Free."</i>)</p>
+
+<p>Rising from his chair again, he paces the floor,
+clenching his hands behind his back in mute fury.</p>
+
+<p>Caption: "GOD HAVE MERCY ON ME! I CAN
+SEE IT ALL&mdash;I HAVE NEVER BEEN EDUCATED!"</p>
+
+<p class="center">
+NEXT WEEK: BERT LYTELL IN<br />
+"SARTOR RESARTUS"<br />
+A SMASHING SIX-REEL FEATURE<br />
+BY TOM CARLYLE<br />
+</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="XX" id="XX"></a>XX</h3>
+
+<h4>THE MOST POPULAR BOOK OF THE MONTH</h4>
+
+<p>NEW YORK CITY (including all Boroughs) TELEPHONE
+DIRECTORY&mdash;N.Y. Telephone Co., N.Y. 1920. 8vo.
+1208 pp.</p>
+
+
+<p>In picking up this new edition of a popular favorite,
+the reviewer finds himself confronted by
+a nice problem in literary ethics. The reader must
+guess what it is.</p>
+
+<p>There may be said to be two classes of people in
+the world; those who constantly divide the people
+of the world into two classes, and those who do not.
+Both classes are extremely unpleasant to meet socially,
+leaving practically no one in the world whom
+one cares very much to know. This feeling is made
+poignant, to the point of becoming an obsession, by
+a careful reading of the present volume.</p>
+
+<p>We are herein presented to some five hundred
+thousand characters, each one deftly drawn in a
+line or two of agate type, each one standing out
+from the rest in bold relief. It is hard to tell which
+one is the most lovable. In one mood we should
+say <i>W.S. Custard</i> of Minnieford Ave. In another,
+more susceptible frame of mind, we should stand by
+the character who opens the book and who first introduces
+us into this Kingdom of Make-Believe&mdash;<i>Mr.
+V. Aagaard</i>, the old "Impt. &amp; Expt." How one
+seems to see him, impting and expting all the hot
+summer day through, year in and year out, always
+heading the list, but always modest and unassuming,
+always with a kindly word and a smile for
+passers-by on Broadway!</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 445px;">
+<img src="images/img37_p188.jpg" width="445"
+alt="The most popular book on earth." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>It is perhaps inaccurate to say that <i>V. Aagaard</i>
+introduces us to the book. He is the first flesh-and-blood
+human being with whom the reader comes
+in contact, but the initial place in the line should
+technically go to the A. &amp; A.A. Excelsior Co. Having
+given credit where credit is due, however, let
+us express our personal opinion that this name is a
+mere trick, designed to crowd out all other competitors
+in the field for the honor of being in the
+premiere position, for it must be obvious to any
+one with any perception at all that the name doesn't
+make sense. <i>No</i> firm could be named the A. &amp;
+A.A. Co., and the author of the telephone directory
+might better have saved his jokes until the body
+of the book. After all, Gelett Burgess does that sort
+of thing much better than any one else could hope
+to.</p>
+
+<p>But, beginning with <i>V. Aagaard</i> and continuing
+through to <i>Mrs. L. Zyfers</i> of Yettman Ave., the
+reader is constantly aware of the fact that here are
+real people, living in a real city, and that they
+represent a problem which must be faced.</p>
+
+<p>Sharp as we find the character etching in the
+book, the action, written and implied, is even more
+remarkable. Let us, for instance, take <i>Mr. Saml
+Dreyslinger</i>, whose business is "Furn Reprg," or
+<i>Peter Shalijian</i>, who does "pmphlt bindg." Into
+whose experience do these descriptions not fit? The
+author need only mention a man bindg pmphlts to
+bring back a flood of memories to each and every
+one of us&mdash;perhaps our old home town in New England
+where bindg pmphlts was almost a rite during
+the long winter months, as well as a social
+function of no mean proportions. It is the ability
+to suggest, to insinuate, these automatic memories
+on the part of the reader without the use of extra
+words that makes the author of this work so worthy
+of the name of craftsman in the literary annals of
+the day.</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps most deft of all is the little picture that
+is made of <i>Louise Winkler</i>, who is the village "sclp
+spclst." One does not have to know much medieval
+history to remember the position that the sclp spclst
+used to hold in the community during the Wars of
+the Roses. Or during Shay's Rebellion, for that matter.
+In those days, to be a sclp spclst was as important
+a post as that of "clb bdg stbls" (now done
+for New York City by Mr. Graham). People came
+from miles around to consult with the local sclp
+spclst on matters pertaining not only to sclps but
+to knt gds and wr whls, both of which departments
+of our daily life have now been delegated to separate
+agencies. Then gradually, with the growth of
+the trade guild movement, there came the Era of
+Specialization in Industry, and the high offices of
+the sclp spclst were dissipated among other trades,
+until only that coming strictly under the head of
+sclp speclzng remained. To this estate has <i>Miss
+Winkler</i> come, and in that part of the book which
+deals with her and her work, we have, as it were,
+a little epic on the mutability of human endeavor.
+It is all too short, however, and we are soon thereafter
+plunged into the dreary round of expting and
+impting, this time through a character called <i>J.
+Wubbe</i>, who is interesting only in so far as he is
+associated with <i>M. Wrubel</i> and <i>A.N. Wubbenhorst</i>,
+all of whom come together at the bottom of the
+column.</p>
+
+<p>The plot, in spite of whatever virtues may accrue
+to it from the acid delineation of the characters and
+the vivid action pictures, is the weakest part of
+the work. It lacks coherence. It lacks stability.</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps this is because of the nature of the book
+itself. Perhaps it is because the author knew too
+well his Dunsany. Or his Wells. Or his Bradstreet.
+But it is the opinion of the present reviewer that
+the weakness of plot is due to the great number
+of characters which clutter up the pages. The Russian
+school is responsible for this. We see here the
+logical result of a sedulous aping of those writers
+such as Tolstoi, Andreief, Turgenief, Dostoiefsky,
+or even Pushkin, whose <i>metier</i> it was to fill the pages
+of their books with an inordinate number of characters,
+many of whom the reader was to encounter
+but once, let us say, on the Nevsky Prospekt or in
+the Smolny Institute, but all of whom added their
+peculiar names (we believe that we will not offend
+when we refer to Russian names as "peculiar") to
+the general confusion of the whole.</p>
+
+<p>In practice, the book is not flawless. There are
+five hundred thousand names, each with a corresponding
+telephone number. But, through some
+error in editing, the numbers are all wrong. Proof
+of this may be had by the simple expedient of calling
+up any one of the subscribers, using the number
+assigned by the author to that name. (Any name
+will do&mdash;let us say <i>Nicholas Wimpie</i>-Haxlem 2131.)
+If the call is put in bright and early in the morning,
+the report will come over the wire just as the lights
+are going on for evening of the same day that "Harlem
+2131 does not answer." The other numbers
+are invariably equally unproductive of results. The
+conclusion is obvious.</p>
+
+<p>Aside from this point the book is a success.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="XXI" id="XXI"></a>XXI</h3>
+
+<h4>CHRISTMAS AFTERNOON</h4>
+
+<p class="cap_ctr"><i>Done in the Manner, if Not the Spirit, of Dickens</i></p>
+
+
+<p>What an afternoon! Mr. Gummidge said
+that, in his estimation, there never had <i>been</i>
+such an afternoon since the world began, a sentiment
+which was heartily endorsed by Mrs. Gummidge
+and all the little Gummidges, not to mention
+the relatives who had come over from Jersey for
+the day.</p>
+
+<p>In the first place, there was the <i>ennui</i>. And such
+<i>ennui</i> as it was! A heavy, overpowering <i>ennui</i>, such
+as results from a participation in eight courses of
+steaming, gravied food, topping off with salted nuts
+which the little old spinster Gummidge from Oak
+Hill said she never knew when to stop eating&mdash;and
+true enough she didn't&mdash;a dragging, devitalizing
+<i>ennui</i>, which left its victims strewn about the living-room
+in various attitudes of prostration suggestive
+of those of the petrified occupants in a newly unearthed
+Pompeiian dwelling; an <i>ennui</i> which carried
+with it a retinue of yawns, snarls and thinly
+veiled insults, and which ended in ruptures in the
+clan spirit serious enough to last throughout the
+glad new year.</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 444px;">
+<img src="images/img38_p194.jpg" width="444"
+alt="What an afternoon!" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Then there were the toys! Three and a quarter
+dozen toys to be divided among seven children.
+Surely enough, you or I might say, to satisfy the
+little tots. But that would be because we didn't
+know the tots. In came Baby Lester Gummidge,
+Lillian's boy, dragging an electric grain-elevator
+which happened to be the only toy in the entire
+collection which appealed to little Norman, five-year-old
+son of Luther, who lived in Rahway. In
+came curly-headed Effie in frantic and throaty disputation
+with Arthur, Jr., over the possession of an
+articulated zebra. In came Everett, bearing a mechanical
+negro which would no longer dance, owing
+to a previous forcible feeding by the baby of a
+marshmallow into its only available aperture. In
+came Fonlansbee, teeth buried in the hand of little
+Ormond, which bore a popular but battered remnant
+of what had once been the proud false-bosom of a
+hussar's uniform. In they all came, one after another,
+some crying, some snapping, some pulling,
+some pushing&mdash;all appealing to their respective parents
+for aid in their intra-mural warfare.</p>
+
+<p>And the cigar smoke! Mrs. Gummidge said that
+she didn't mind the smoke from a good cigarette,
+but would they mind if she opened the windows
+for just a minute in order to clear the room of
+the heavy aroma of used cigars? Mr. Gummidge
+stoutly maintained that they were good cigars. His
+brother, George Gummidge, said that he, likewise,
+would say that they were. At which colloquial sally
+both the Gummidge brothers laughed testily, thereby
+breaking the laughter record for the afternoon.</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Libbie, who lived with George, remarked
+from the dark corner of the room that it seemed
+just like Sunday to her. An amendment was offered
+to this statement by the cousin, who was in
+the insurance business, stating that it was worse
+than Sunday. Murmurings indicative of as hearty
+agreement with this sentiment as their lethargy
+would allow came from the other members of the
+family circle, causing Mr. Gummidge to suggest a
+walk in the air to settle their dinner.</p>
+
+<p>And then arose such a chorus of protestations as
+has seldom been heard. It was too cloudy to walk.
+It was too raw. It looked like snow. It looked
+like rain. Luther Gummidge said that he must be
+starting along home soon, anyway, bringing forth
+the acid query from Mrs. Gummidge as to whether
+or not he was bored. Lillian said that she felt a
+cold coming on, and added that something they had
+had for dinner must have been undercooked. And
+so it went, back and forth, forth and back, up and
+down, and in and out, until Mr. Gummidge's suggestion
+of a walk in the air was reduced to a tattered
+impossibility and the entire company glowed
+with ill-feeling.</p>
+
+<p>In the meantime, we must not forget the children.
+No one else could. Aunt Libbie said that
+she didn't think there was anything like children to
+make a Christmas; to which Uncle Ray, the one
+with the Masonic fob, said, "No, thank God!"
+Although Christmas is supposed to be the season
+of good cheer, you (or I, for that matter) couldn't
+have told, from listening to the little ones, but what
+it was the children's Armageddon season, when Nature
+had decreed that only the fittest should survive,
+in order that the race might be carried on by
+the strongest, the most predatory and those posessing
+the best protective coloring. Although there
+were constant admonitions to Fonlansbee to "Let
+Ormond have that whistle now; it's his," and to
+Arthur, Jr., not to be selfish, but to "give the kiddie-car
+to Effie; she's smaller than you are," the net
+result was always that Fonlansbee kept the whistle
+and Arthur, Jr., rode in permanent, albeit disputed,
+possession of the kiddie-car. Oh, that we mortals
+should set ourselves up against the inscrutable workings
+of Nature!</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 436px;">
+<img src="images/img39_p198.jpg" width="436"
+alt="Hallo! A great deal of commotion!" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Hallo! A great deal of commotion! That was
+Uncle George stumbling over the electric train,
+which had early in the afternoon ceased to function
+and which had been left directly across the
+threshold. A great deal of crying! That was Arthur,
+Jr., bewailing the destruction of his already
+useless train, about which he had forgotten until
+the present moment. A great deal of recrimination!
+That was Arthur, Sr., and George fixing it up. And
+finally a great crashing! That was Baby Lester
+pulling over the tree on top of himself, necessitating
+the bringing to bear of all of Uncle Ray's
+knowledge of forestry to extricate him from the
+wreckage.</p>
+
+<p>And finally Mrs. Gummidge passed the Christmas
+candy around. Mr. Gummidge afterward admitted
+that this was a tactical error on the part of
+his spouse. I no more believe that Mrs. Gummidge
+thought they wanted that Christmas candy
+than I believe that she thought they wanted the
+cold turkey which she later suggested. My opinion
+is that she wanted to drive them home. At any
+rate, that is what she succeeded in doing. Such
+cries as there were of "Ugh! Don't let me see another
+thing to eat!" and "Take it away!" Then
+came hurried scramblings in the coat-closet for over-shoes.
+There were the rasping sounds made by
+cross parents when putting wraps on children.
+There were insincere exhortations to "come and see
+us soon" and to "get together for lunch some time."
+And, finally, there were slammings of doors and
+the silence of utter exhaustion, while Mrs. Gummidge
+went about picking up stray sheets of wrapping
+paper.</p>
+
+<p>And, as Tiny Tim might say in speaking of
+Christmas afternoon as an institution, "God help
+us, every one."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="XXII" id="XXII"></a>XXII</h3>
+
+<h4>HAIL, VERNAL EQUINOX!</h4>
+
+
+<p>If all that I hear is true, a great deal has been
+written, first and last, about that season which
+we slangily call "Spring"; but I don't remember
+ever having seen it done in really first-class form;&mdash;that
+is, in such a way that it left something with you
+to think over, something that you could put your
+finger on and say, "There, <i>there</i> is a Big, Vital
+Thought that I can carry away with me to my
+room."</p>
+
+<p>What Spring really needs is a regular press-agent
+sort of write-up, something with the Punch in it,
+an article that will make people sit up and say to
+themselves, "By George, there must be something
+in this Spring stuff, after all."</p>
+
+<p>What sort of popularity did Education have until
+correspondence schools and encyclopedias began to
+give publicity to it in their advertisements? Where
+would Music be to-day if it were not for the exhortations
+of the talking-machine and mechanical-piano
+companies telling, through their advertising-copy
+writers, of the spiritual exaltation that comes
+from a love of music? These things were all right
+in their way before the press-agent took hold of
+them, but they never could have hoped to reach
+their present position without him.</p>
+
+<p>Of course, all this has just been leading up to
+the point I want to make,&mdash;that something more
+ought to be written about Spring. When you consider
+that every one, including myself, agrees that
+<i>nothing</i> more should be written about it, I think
+that I have done rather well to prove as much as
+I have so far. And, having got this deep into the
+thing, I can't very well draw back now.</p>
+
+<p>Well then, Spring is a great season. Nobody will
+gainsay me that. Without it, we should crash right
+from Winter into Summer with no chance to shift
+to light-weight underwear. I could write a whole
+piece about that phase of it alone, and, if I were
+pressed for things to say, I myself could enlarge
+on it now, making up imaginary conversation of
+people who have been caught in balbriggans by the
+first sweltering day of summer. But I have so many
+more things to say about Spring that I can't stop
+to bother with deadwood like that. Such literary
+fillerbusting should be left to those who are not so
+full of their subject as I am.</p>
+
+<p>In preparing for this article, I thought it best
+to look up a little on the technical side of Spring,
+about which so little is known, at least by me. And,
+would you believe it, the Encyclopedia Britannica,
+which claims in its advertisements not only to make
+its readers presidents of the Boards of Directors of
+any companies they may select, but also shows how
+easy it would be for Grandpa or Little Edna to carry
+the whole set about from room to room, if, by any
+possible chance they should ever want to, this same
+Encyclopedia Britannica makes no reference to
+Spring, except incidentally, along with Bed Springs
+and Bubbling Springs.</p>
+
+<p>This slight of one of our most popular seasons is
+probably due to the fact that Spring is not exclusively
+a British product and was not invented
+by a Briton. Had Spring been fortunate enough to
+have had the Second Earl of Stropshire-Stropshire-Stropshire
+as one of its founders, the Britannica
+could probably have seen its way clear to give it a
+five-page article, signed by the Curator of the Jade
+Department in the British Museum, and illustrated
+with colored plates, showing the effect of Spring
+on the vertical and transverse sections of the stamen
+of the South African Euphorbiceæ.</p>
+
+<p>I was what you might, but probably wouldn't,
+call stunned at not finding anything about the Season
+of Love in the encyclopedia, for without that
+assistance what sort of a scientific article could
+I do on the subject? I am not good at improvising
+as I go along, especially in astronomical matters.
+But we Americans are not so easily thwarted. Quick
+as a wink I looked up "Equinox."</p>
+
+<p>There is a renewed agitation of late to abolish
+Latin from our curricula. Had I not known my
+Latin I never could have figured out what "equinox"
+meant, and this article would never have
+been written. Take that, Mr. Flexner!</p>
+
+<p>While finding "equinox," however, I came across
+the word "equilibrium," which is the word before
+you come to "equinox," and I became quite absorbed
+in what it had to say on the matter. There were a
+great many things stated there that I had never
+dreamed before, even in my wildest vagaries on the
+subject of equilibrium. For instance, did you know
+that if you cover the head of a bird, "as in hooding
+a falcon" (do you remember the good old days
+when you used to run away from school to hood falcons?)
+the bird is deprived of the power of voluntary
+movement? Just think of that, deprived of
+the power of voluntary movement simply because its
+head is covered!</p>
+
+<p>And, as if this were not enough, it says that the
+same thing holds true of a fish! If you should ever,
+on account of a personal grudge, want to get the better
+of a fish, just sneak up to him on some pretext
+or other and suddenly cover its eyes with a cloth,
+and there you have it, helpless and unable to move.
+You may then insult it, and it can do nothing but
+tremble with rage.</p>
+
+<p>It is little practical things like this that you pick
+up in reading a good reference book, things that you
+would never get in ten years at college.</p>
+
+<p>For instance, take the word "equites," which follows
+"equinox" in the encyclopedia. What do you
+know about equites, Mr. Businessman? Of course,
+you remember in a vague way that they were Roman
+horsemen or something, but, in the broader
+sense of the word, could you have told that the term
+"equites" came, in the time of Gaius Gracchus, to
+mean any one who had four hundred thousand
+sesterces? No, I thought not. And yet that is a
+point which is apt to come up any day at the office.
+A customer from St. Paul might come in and, of
+course, you would take him out to lunch, hoping to
+land a big order. Where would you be if his hobby
+should happen to be "equites "? And if he should
+come out in the middle of the conversation with
+"By the way, do you remember how many sesterces
+it was necessary to have during the administration
+of Gaius Gracchus in order to belong to the
+Equites?" if you could snap right back at him
+with "Four hundred thousand, I believe," the order
+would be assured. And if, in addition, you could
+volunteer the information that an excellent account
+of the family life of the Equites could be found
+in Mommsen's "<i>Römisches Staatsrecht</i>," Vol. 3,
+your customer would probably not only sign up for
+a ten-year contract, but would insist on paying for
+the lunch.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 422px;">
+<img src="images/img40_p205.jpg" width="422"
+alt="If you could snap right back at him with 'Four hundred
+thousand, I believe,' the order would be assured." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>But, of course, this has practically nothing to do
+with Spring, or, as the boys call it, the "vernal
+equinox." The vernal equinox is a serious matter.
+In fact, I think I may say without violating any
+confidence, that it is the initial point from which the
+right ascensions and the longitudes of the heavenly
+bodies are measured. This statement will probably
+bring down a storm of ridicule on my head, but
+look at how Fulton was ridiculed.</p>
+
+<p>In fact, I might go even further and say that the
+way to seek out Spring is not to trail along with the
+poets and essayists into the woods and fields and
+stand about in the mud until a half-clothed bird
+comes out and peeps. If you really want to be in
+on the official advent of Spring, you may sit in a
+nice warm observatory and, entirely free from head-colds,
+proceed with the following simple course:</p>
+
+<p>Take first the conception of a fictitious point
+which we shall call, for fun, the Mean Equinox.
+This Mean Equinox moves at a nearly uniform rate,
+slowly varying from century to century.</p>
+
+<p>Now here comes the trick of the thing. The Mean
+Equinox is merely a decoy, and, once you have
+determined it, you shift suddenly to the True
+Equinox which you can tell, according to Professor
+A.M. Clerk's treatise on the subject, because it
+moves around the Mean Equinox in a period equal
+to that of the moon's nodes. Now all you have to
+do is to find out what the moon's nodes are (isn't
+it funny that you can be as familiar with an object
+as you are with the moon and see it almost
+every night, and yet never know that it has even one
+node, not to mention nodes?) and then find out how
+fast they move. This done and you have discovered
+the Vernal Equinox, or Spring, and without
+spilling a dactyl.</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 276px;">
+<img src="images/img41_p207.jpg" width="276"
+alt="On the subject of spring's
+arrival intuition may be led astray." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>How much simpler this is than the old, romantic
+way of determining when Spring had come! A poet
+has to depend on his intuition for information, and,
+on the subject of Spring's arrival, intuition may be
+led astray by any number of things. You may be
+sitting over one of those radiators which are concealed
+under window-seats, for instance, and before
+you are aware of it feel what you take to be the first
+flush of Spring creeping over you. It would be obviously
+premature to go out and write a poem on
+Youth and Love and Young Onions on the strength
+of that.</p>
+
+<p>I once heard of a young man who in November
+discovered that he had an intellectual attachment
+for a certain young woman and felt that married
+life with her would be without doubt a success. But
+he could never work himself up into sufficient emotional
+enthusiasm to present the proposition to her
+in phrases that he knew she had been accustomed to
+receive from other suitors. He knew that she
+wouldn't respond to a proposal of marriage couched
+in terms of a real estate transaction. Yet such were
+the only ones that he felt himself capable of at
+the moment under the prevailing weather conditions.
+So, knowing something of biology, he packed his little
+bag and rented an alcove in a nearby green-house,
+where he basked in the intensified sun-warmth and
+odor of young tube roses, until with a cry, he
+smashed the glass which separated him from his
+heart's desire and tore around the corner to her
+house, dashing in the back door and flinging himself
+at her feet as she was whipping some cream,
+and there poured forth such a torrent of ardent sentiments
+that there was really nothing that the poor
+girl could do but marry him that afternoon.</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 276px;">
+<img src="images/img42_p209.jpg" width="276"
+alt="Spring." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>In fact, if you want to speak astronomically
+(some people do), you may define Spring even more
+definitely. Since we are all here together, and good
+friends, let us take the center of the earth as origin,
+and, once we have done this, the most natural fundamental
+axis is, obviously, the earth's rotation. The
+fundamental plane perpendicular to it is the plane
+of the equator. That goes without saying.</p>
+
+<p>Now, here we go! Coördinates referred to in this
+system are termed equatorial, and I think that you
+will agree with me that nothing could be fairer than
+that. Very well, then. Since this is so, we may
+define Spring by the following geometric representation
+in which the angle ZOP, made by the radius
+vector with the fundamental plane, shows a springlike
+tendency.</p>
+
+<p>This drawing we may truthfully entitle "Spring,"
+and while it hasn't perhaps the color found in Botticelli's
+painting of the same name, yet it just as
+truthfully represents Spring in these parts as do
+the unstable sort of ladies in the more famous picture.</p>
+
+<p>I only wish that I had more space in which to
+tell what my heart is full of in connection with this
+subject. I really have only just begun.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="TABLOID_EDITIONS" id="TABLOID_EDITIONS"></a>TABLOID EDITIONS</h3>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_AMERICAN_MAGAZINE" id="THE_AMERICAN_MAGAZINE"></a>THE AMERICAN MAGAZINE</h3>
+
+<h4>What I Have Made Myself Learn About You</h4>
+
+<p class="center">
+Being An Account of How One Business Man Made the <br />
+Little Things Count. Do You?
+</p>
+
+
+<p>My business (rubber goods) was in a bad way.
+Somehow I couldn't seem to make it return
+enough to pay my income tax with. My wife and I
+were frankly upset.</p>
+
+<p>At last one morning she came to me and said:
+"Fred, the baby will soon be seven months old and
+will have to have some sort of vocational training.
+What are we to do?"</p>
+
+<p>That night was the bluest night I have ever spent.
+I thought that the end had come. Then, suddenly,
+the thought struck me: "Why not try character-selling?"</p>
+
+<p>This may sound foolish to you. That is because it
+is foolish. But it did the trick.</p>
+
+<p>I began to sell my personality. Every man that
+came into my store I took aside and showed him
+different moods. First, I would tell him a funny
+story, to prove to him that I was more than a mere
+business automaton. Then I would relate a pathetic
+incident I had seen on the street a week or two ago.
+This disclosed my heart. Then I did a fragment of
+a bare-foot dance and sketched a caricature of Lloyd
+George, to let him see that I was a man of the world.
+After this, I was ready to sell him what he came in
+for, and he would go away carrying a very definite
+impression of my personal characteristics&mdash;and some
+of my goods, in a bundle.</p>
+
+<p>A week of selling rubber-goods in this manner, and
+I was on the vaudeville stage, earning $250 a week.
+How much do <i>you</i> earn?</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p class="cap_ctr">Interesting People</p>
+
+<p class="center">A Man Who Made Good With Newts</p>
+
+
+<p>Some day, if you ever happen to be in Little
+Falls, turn to your right and you will see a prosperous-looking
+establishment run by Ira S. Whip,
+known throughout Little Falls as the newt king.
+Starting in with practically nothing but two congenial
+newts, Mr. Whip has, in the past ten years,
+raised no less than 4,000 of these little lizard-like
+animals, all of which had to be thrown away, as
+there is practically no market for pet newts except
+for incidental rôles in gold-fish tanks. But Mr.
+Whip did what he set out to do, and that counts for
+a lot in this life. Can you say as much?</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p class="cap_ctr">The Man Who Made Good</p>
+
+<p class="center">The story of a man who made good</p>
+
+
+<p>Lorrie Wetmore sat disconsolately in the
+fountain in Madison Square Park. He was
+lonely. He was a failure.... Yes, he was. Don't
+contradict me. He was a terrible failure. And, as
+I said before, early in this story, he was lonely.</p>
+
+<p>"I have fallen down on the job," he murmured to
+Admiral Farragut's statue. "I have not made good."</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly a kind hand rested on his shoulder. He
+turned to face the pansy-trainer, who keeps the
+flower-beds in the Park in touch with the seasons.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't give in, my boy," said the old man. "Remember
+the words of Henley, who instituted the
+famous Henley Regatta and so made a name for
+himself: 'I am the master of my Fate. I am the
+Captain of my Soul.'"</p>
+
+<p>"By George," murmured Lorrie to the statue of
+Salmon P. Chase, "I <i>can</i> make good, and I <i>will</i> make
+good!"</p>
+
+<p>And, with these words, he climbed out of the
+fountain and made his way resolutely across the
+square to the great store of Marshall Field and
+Co. (Advt.)</p>
+
+<p>In seven weeks he was a member of the firm.</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p class="cap_ctr">Are You Between the Ages of 7 and 94?</p>
+
+<p class="center">
+If so, what this eminent growth specialist says here applies<br />
+directly to you and to your family<br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p>Every man, woman and child between the ages
+of 7 and 94 is going through a process of
+growth or metamorphosis, whether they know it or
+not. Are you making the most of this opportunity
+which is coming to you (if your age falls within the
+magic circle given above) every day of your life?
+Do you realize that, during this crucial period, you
+have it in your power to make what you will of yourself,
+provided only that you know how to go about
+it and make no false steps?</p>
+
+<p>As you grow from day to day, either mentally,
+morally, or physically, you can say to yourself, on
+awakening in the morning:</p>
+
+<p>"To-day I will develop. I will grow bigger, either
+mentally, morally or physically. Maybe, if it is a
+nice, warm day, I will grow in all three ways at
+once."</p>
+
+<p>And, sure enough, when evening finds you returning
+home from the work of the day, it will also find
+you in some way changed from the person you were
+in the morning, either through the shedding of the
+dry epidermis from the backs of your hands (which,
+according to one of Nature's most wonderful processes,
+is replaced by new epidermis as soon as the
+old is gone), or through the addition of a fraction
+of an inch to your height or girth, or through some
+other of the inscrutable alchemies of Nature.</p>
+
+<p>Think this over as you go to work, to-day, and
+see if it doesn't tell <i>you</i> something about <i>your</i>
+problem.</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p class="cap_ctr">How I Put Myself on the Map</p>
+
+<p>It was seven o'clock at night when I first struck
+New York. I had come from a Middle Western
+town to make my fortune as a writer, and I was
+already discouraged. I knew no one in the Big City,
+and had been counting on my membership in the
+National Geographic Society to find me friends
+among my fellow-members in town. But I soon discovered
+that the fraternity spirit in the East was
+much less cordial than in my home district, and I
+realized, too late, that I was all alone.</p>
+
+<p>With a few coins that my father had slipped into
+my hand as I left home, I engaged a tiny suite at
+the St. Regis and there set about my writing.</p>
+
+<p>The first 10,000 manuscripts which I sent out, I
+now have. (I am at present working them over into
+a serial for the <i>Saturday Evening Post</i> weekly, from
+which I expect to make $25,000). But that is beside
+the point. For the purposes of the present narrative,
+I was a failure. The manager of the hotel was
+pressing me for my rent, which was already several
+hours overdue. I had not tipped the chamber-maid
+since breakfast. I sat looking out at my window,
+staring at the squalid wall of the Hotel Ritz. I had
+met New York face to face&mdash;and I had lost.</p>
+
+<p>No, not lost! There was still one chance left
+I sat down and, with feverish haste, wrote out a
+glowing account of my failure. I spared no detail
+of my degradation, even to taking fruit from the
+hotel table to my room.</p>
+
+<p>Then I began to fabricate. I told how I had
+overcome all these handicaps and had made a success
+of myself. I lied. I said that I was now drawing
+down $200,000 a year, but that I had never forgotten
+my old friends. It was a good yarn, but it
+took me a long while to make it up. And when, at
+last, it was ready, I sent it to the <i>American Magazine</i>.</p>
+
+<p>This is it!</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p class="cap_ctr">How Insane Are You?</p>
+
+<p>Following is a test used in all State Hospitals
+to determine the fitness of the inmates for occasional
+shore leave. Try it on yourself and see where
+you get off.</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p class="center">TEST NO. 1</p>
+
+<p>If you really are the reincarnation of Learning,
+write something here ... but if you are being
+hounded by a lot of relatives whom you dislike, ring
+and walk in. Then, granting all this, how does it
+come about that you, a member of the Interstate
+Commerce Commission, wear no collar?... Ha,
+ha, we caught you there! But otherwise, write any
+letter beginning with <i>w</i> in this space. Yes, there is
+the space,&mdash;what's the matter with you? Go back
+and look again.... You win. Now, in spite of
+what the neighbors say, give three reasons for not
+giving three reasons why this proves that you are
+sane, or, as the case may be.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="HARPERS_MAGAZINE" id="HARPERS_MAGAZINE"></a>HARPER'S MAGAZINE</h3>
+
+
+<p class="cap_ctr">Through the Dobrudja with Gun and Camera</p>
+
+<p>There was a heavy mist falling as we left
+Ilanlâc, rendering the <i>cozbars</i> (native <i>doblacs</i>)
+doubly indistinguishable. This was unfortunate, as
+we had planned on taking many photographs, some
+of which are reproduced here.</p>
+
+<p>Our party consisted of seven members of the Society:
+Molwinch, young Houghbotham, Capt.
+Ramp, and myself, together with fourteen native
+<i>barbudos</i> (<i>luksni</i> who are under the draft age), a
+boat's crew, two helpers, and some potted tongue.
+Lieut. Furbearing, the Society's press-agent, had
+sailed earlier in the week, and was to join us at
+Curtea de Argesh.</p>
+
+<p>Before us, as we progressed, lay the Tecuci, shimmering
+in the reflected light of the <i>sun</i> (sun). They
+were named by their discoverer, Joao Galatz, after
+his uncle, whose name was Wurgle, or, as he was
+known among the natives, "Wurgle." From that
+time (1808) until 1898, no automobile was ever seen
+on one of the Tecuci, although many of the inhabitants
+subsisted entirely on what we call "cottage-cheese."</p>
+
+<p>The weevils of this district (<i>Curculionidæ</i>)
+remarkable for their lack of poise. We saw several
+of them, just at sundown, when, according to an old
+native legend, the weevil comes out to defy the God
+of <i>Acor</i>, his ancient enemy, and never, not even in
+Castanheira, have I seen weevils more embarrassed
+than those upon whom we came suddenly at a bend
+in the Selch River.</p>
+
+<p>Early morning found us filing up the Buzeau Valley,
+with the gun-bearers and bus-boys in single-file
+behind us, and a picturesque lot they were, too, with
+their lisle socks and queer patch-pockets. In taking
+a picture of them, I walked backward into the
+Buzeau River, which delayed the party, as I had,
+in my bag, the key with which the potted tongue
+cans were to be opened.</p>
+
+<p>We were fortunate enough to catch several male
+puffins, which were so ingenuous as to eat the carpet-tacks
+we offered them. The puffin (<i>Thalassidroma
+buleverii</i>), is easily distinguishable from the more
+effete robin of America because the two birds are
+similar in no essential points. This makes it convenient
+for the naturalist, who might otherwise get them
+mixed. Puffins are hunted principally for their companionable
+qualities, a domesticated puffin being
+held the equal&mdash;if not quite&mdash;of the average
+Dobrudjan housewife in many respects, such as, for
+instance, self-respect.</p>
+
+<p>It was late in the afternoon of the third day, when
+we finally reached Dimbovitza, and the cool <i>llemla</i>
+was indeed refreshing. It had been, we one and all
+agreed, a most interesting trip, and we vowed that
+we should not forget our Three Days in the
+Dobrudja.</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p class="cap_ctr">Dead Leaves</p>
+
+<p>"Ain't you got them dishes done up yet,
+Irma?"</p>
+
+<p>A petulant voice from what, in Central New England,
+is called the "sittin' room," penetrated the cool
+silence of the farm-house kitchen. Irma Hathaway
+passed her hand heavily before her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Ma," she replied wearily, as she threw a
+cup at the steel engraving of "The Return of the
+Mayflower" which hung on the kitchen wall. She
+wondered when she would die.</p>
+
+<p>A cold wind blew along the corridor which connected
+the kitchen with the wood-shed. Then, as if
+disgruntled, it blew back again, like a man returning
+to his room after a fresh handkerchief. Irma
+shuddered. It was all so inexplicably depressing.</p>
+
+<p>For eighteen years the sun had never been able
+to shine in Bemis Corners. God knows it had tried.
+But there had always been something imponderable,
+something monstrously bleak, which had thrown
+itself, like a great cloak, between the warm light of
+that body and the grim reality of Bemis Corners.</p>
+
+<p>"If Eben had only known," thought Irma, and
+buried her face in the soapy water.</p>
+
+<p>Some one entered the room from the wood-shed,
+stamping the snow from his boots. She knew, without
+looking up, that it was Ira.</p>
+
+<p>"Why hev you come?" she said softly, lifting her
+moist eyes to him. It was not Ira. It was the hired
+man. She sobbed pitifully and leaped upon the
+roller-towel which hung on the door, pulling it round
+and round like a captive squirrel in a revolving cage.</p>
+
+<p>"It ain't no use," she moaned.</p>
+
+<p>And, through the cadavers of the apple-trees in
+the orchard behind the house, there rattled a wind
+from the sea, the sea to which men go down in
+ships never to return, telling of sorrow and all that
+sort of thing.</p>
+
+<p>"Fate," some people call it.</p>
+
+<p>To Irma Hathaway it was all the same.</p>
+
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p class="cap_ctr">June, July, August</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Tulips, crocuses and chard,</i></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>And the wax bean</i></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>In the back yard.</i></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>And the open road to the land of dreams,</i></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>With the heavy swirl</i></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Of the singing streams.</i></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Oh! boy!</i></span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p class="cap_ctr">Unpublished Letters of Mark Twain</p>
+
+<p class="center"><i>With a foreword by Albert Bigelow Paine</i><a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></p>
+
+<p class="center">FOREWORD</p>
+
+
+<p>This letter from Mark Twain to Mr. Horace J.
+Borrow of Hartford has recently been called
+to my attention by a niece of Mr. Borrow's who now
+lives in Glastonbury. I have no reason to believe
+that the lady is a charlatan, in fact, I have often
+heard Mark Twain speak of Mr. Borrow in the
+highest terms.</p>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">[1]</span></a>
+The complete works of Mark Twain, with complete forewords by
+Mr. Paine are, oddly enough, published by Harper and Bros. who,
+oddly enough, also publish this magazine. We celebrate this coincidence
+by offering the complete set to our readers on easy and friendly
+terms.</p></div>
+
+
+<p>
+<i>Mr. Horace J. Borrow</i><br />
+<i>Hartford, Connecticut</i><br />
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p>Dear Mr. Borrow: Enclosed find check for ten
+dollars ($10) in payment of my annual dues for the
+year 1891-2.</p>
+
+<p>
+Yours truly,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">(Signed) S.L. CLEMENS.</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p class="cap_ctr">Highways and By-Ways in Old Fall River</p>
+
+<p>The chance visitor to Fall River may be said,
+like the old fisherman in "Bartholomew Fair,"
+to have "seen half the world, without tasting its
+savor." Wandering down the Main Street, with its
+clanging trolley-cars and noisy drays, one wonders
+(as, indeed, one may well wonder), if all this is a
+manifestation so much of Fall River as it is of that
+for which Fall River stands.</p>
+
+<p>Frankly, I do not know.</p>
+
+<p>But there is something in the air, something ineffable
+in the swirl of the smoke from the towering
+stacks, which sings, to the rhythm of the clashing
+shuttles and humming looms, of a day when old
+gentlemen in belted raglans and cloth-topped boots
+strolled through these streets, bearing with them the
+legend of mutability. Perhaps "mutability" is too
+strong a word. Fall Riverians would think so.</p>
+
+<p>And the old Fall River Line! What memories
+does that name not awaken in the minds of globe-trotters?
+Or, rather, what memories <i>does</i> it awaken?
+William Lloyd Garrison is said to have remarked
+upon one occasion to Benjamin Butler that one of the
+most grateful features of Fall River was the night-boat
+for New York. To which Butler is reported to
+have replied: "But, my dear Lloyd, there is no
+night-boat to New York, and there won't be until
+along about 1875 or even later. So your funny
+crack, in its essential detail, falls flat."</p>
+
+<p>But, regardless of all this, the fact remains that
+Fall River is Fall River, and that it is within easy
+motoring distance of Newport, which offers our art
+department countless opportunities for charming
+illustrations.</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p class="cap_ctr">The Editor's Drawer</p>
+
+<p>Little Bobby, aged five, saying his prayers,
+had come to that most critical of diplomatic
+crises: the naming of relatives to be blessed.</p>
+
+<p>"Why don't I ask God to bless Aunt Mabel?" he
+queried, looking up with a roguish twinkle in his blue
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"But you do, Bobby," answered his mother.</p>
+
+<p>"So I do," was his prompt reply.</p>
+<p><br /></p>
+<p>Little Willy, aged seven, was asked by his
+teacher to define the word "confuse."
+"'Confuse' is what my daddy says when he looks
+at his watch," said Willy. The teacher never asked
+that question again. At least, not of Willy.</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p>Little Gertrude, aged three, was saying her
+prayers. "Is God everywhere?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, dear, everywhere," answered her mother.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Everywhere?</i>" she persisted.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, dear, <i>everywhere,</i>" repeated her mother, all
+unsuspecting.</p>
+
+<p>"Then He must be like Uncle Ned," said the
+little tot.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Gertrude, what makes you say that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because I heard Daddy say that Uncle Ned was
+everywhere," was the astounding reply.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="THE_SATURDAY_EVENING_POST" id="THE_SATURDAY_EVENING_POST"></a>THE SATURDAY EVENING POST</h3>
+
+
+<p class="cap_ctr">THE LAST MATCH</p>
+
+<p class="center">By Roy Comfort Ashurst</p>
+
+<p>Slowly the girl in the green hat approached the
+swinging door of the hotel.</p>
+
+<p>She was thinking.</p>
+
+<p>A man more versed in the ways of womankind
+than Ned Pillsbury might, perhaps, have perceived
+that she was also glancing surreptitiously upwards
+through the dark fringe of lashes which veiled her
+brown gypsy eyes, but Ned was not a trained observer
+in such matters. To him, as he sat in the
+large, roomy leather chair in the lobby, the only
+reaction was</p>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>Continued on page 49</i>)</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p class="cap_ctr">ARE YOU SURE OF YOUR CRANK-SHAFT?</p>
+
+<p>The answer to this question is the answer to the
+peace of mind with which you operate your motor.
+Whether you are the operator of an automobile, or
+one of those intrepid spirits to whom the world-war
+has given the vision of flying through the air at
+175 miles an hour, you need to give pause and say to
+yourself:</p>
+
+<p>"Just how much faith can I put in my crank-shaft?"</p>
+
+<p>And if it is a Zimco crank-shaft, made in the factory
+of a thousand sky-lights, you may be sure that
+it will stand the test.</p>
+
+<p>Zimco crank-shafts have that indefinable quality
+which gives them personality among crank-shafts.
+You know a Zimco when you see one and you feel
+that it is an old friend. It does everything but speak.
+And that its host of friends do for it.</p>
+
+<p>Let us send you free our handsome little booklet
+on "After-the-War-Problems."</p>
+
+
+<p class="center">(<i>Continued from page 8</i>)</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>one of amazement that there could be such a beautiful person
+alive in this generation.</p>
+
+<p>Ned was a young man of great possibilities, but few probabilities.
+Born in the confusion of an up-state city, and educated
+in the hub-bub of a large college, on whose football
+team he had distinguished himself in the position of left-halfback,
+he had never been so fortunate as to receive that quiet
+instruction in dark brown eyelashes and their potentialities
+which has been found to be so highly essential to the equipment</p></blockquote>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>Continued on page 107</i>)</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p class="cap_ctr">INTRODUCING THE 7-TON GARGANTUA TRUCK</p>
+
+<p>This important announcement is made by the
+Gargantua Company with a full realization of its
+significance. We realize that we are creating a new
+thing in trucks.</p>
+
+<p>The Gargantua combines all the qualities of the
+truck with the conveniences of a Fall River boat.
+Its transmission system has been called "The Queen
+of Transmissions." The efficacy of its bull-pinions
+in the tractor attachment has been the subject of
+enthusiastic praise from bull-pinion experts on all
+continents.</p>
+
+<p>The Gargantua is the result of a dream. Henry
+L. McFern (now president of the Gargantua Co.),
+was the dreamer. Mr. McFern wanted something
+that would revolutionize the truck business, and yet
+still be a truck. He gave it the thought of all his
+waking hours. His friends called him a "dreamer,"
+but Henry McFern only smiled. When first he
+brought out the model of the Gargantua it was
+called "McFern's Folly," but Henry McFern only
+smiled the more. And when the time came for the
+test, it was seen that the "dreamer" of South Bend
+had given the world a <i>new</i> Idea.</p>
+
+
+<p class="center">(<i>Continued from page 49</i>)</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>of a man of the world to-day. He knew that women were
+strange creatures, for this popular superstition reaches even
+to the recesses of the most exclusive of male retreats, but
+further than that he was uninformed. He had, it is true, like
+many another young man, felt the influence of certain pairs
+of blue eyes</p></blockquote>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>Continued on page 113</i>)</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p class="cap_ctr">I AM THE STRENGTH OF AGES</p>
+
+<p>¶I have sprung from the depths of the hills.</p>
+
+<p>¶Before the rivers were brought forth, or even
+before the green leaves in their softness made the
+landscape, I was your servant.</p>
+
+<p>¶From the bowels of the earth, where men toil in
+darknesss, I come, bringing a message of insuperable
+strength.</p>
+
+<p>¶From sun to sun I meet and overcome the forces
+of nature, brothers of mine, yet opponents; kindred,
+yet foes.</p>
+
+<p>¶I am silent, but my voice re-echoes beyond the
+ends of the earth.</p>
+
+<p>¶I am master, yet I am slave.</p>
+
+<p>¶I am Woonsocket Wrought Iron Pipe, "the
+Strongest in the Long Run." (Trademark.)</p>
+
+<p>Send for illustrated booklet entitled</p>
+
+<p class="center">"<i>The Romance of Iron Pipe.</i>"</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p class="center">(<i>Continued from page 107</i>)</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>which had come into his life during the years when he was in
+susceptible moods, but such occurrences were not the result of
+any realization on his part of their significance. They were
+in the same category of physical phenomena as includes measles
+or chicken-pox, for example,&mdash;the direct result of a certain</p></blockquote>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>Continued on page 125</i>)</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p class="cap_ctr">WHY WORRY OVER CHISEL TROUBLES?</p>
+
+<p>"You've got the right kind of chisel there. I see
+it's a Blimco. I've always found that Blimco chisels
+stand up longer under everyday usage, and I tell my
+foremen to see to it that the men always have their
+Blimcoes and no other. I have tried the others, but
+have always come back to the Blimco. I suppose it
+is because the Blimco is made by master-workmen,
+supervised by experts and sold only by dealers who
+know the best tools. When you see a Blimco in a
+dealer's window, you may know that that dealer is a
+man of discrimination. The discriminating workman
+always uses a Blimco. 'The Chisel of Distinction.'
+Clip this coupon and send it NOW for our instructive
+booklet 'Chiselling Prosperity'."</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p class="center">(<i>Continued from page 113</i>)</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>temporary debility which renders the patient susceptible to
+infection.</p>
+
+<p>Ned Pillsbury was therefore somewhat overcome by the
+vision of the girl with the green hat, and suffered from that
+feeling of pioneering emotion which must have affected Mr.
+Balboa who, according to the poet, stood "silent on a peak in
+Darien" survey-</p></blockquote>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>Continued on page 140</i>)</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p class="cap_ctr">MAKE YOUR PISTON-RINGS WORK FOR YOU</p>
+
+<p>Why should you persist in being ashamed of your
+piston-rings?</p>
+
+<p>Why should you make your wife and daughter
+suffer the humiliation which comes from knowing
+that you are using an inferior make?</p>
+
+<p>"Emancipator" Piston-Rings cost more than ordinary
+piston-rings, but they are worth it. They are
+worth more even than we ask.</p>
+
+<p>What would it mean to you to know that you were
+not losing steam power because of a faulty piston-ring?
+Wouldn't it be worth a few extra dollars?</p>
+
+<p>Napoleon once said that an army marches on its
+stomach.</p>
+
+<p>If this has any relation to piston-rings, we fail to
+see it. But it has as much relation to piston-rings
+as a matter of price does when steam economy is at
+stake.</p>
+
+<p>"Emancipator" Piston-Rings bring twice the
+power with one-half the trouble. That's why we call
+them "Emancipator."</p>
+
+<p>Ask your grocer about "Emancipators." He will
+tell you to ask your garage-man. In the meantime,
+let us send you our catalog.</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p class="center">(<i>Continued from page 125</i>)</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>ing the Pacific. He was aware of a strange exaltation coursing
+through his veins, and before he knew it, he was on his
+feet and pushing through the revolving door in the compartment
+behind the green hat.</p></blockquote>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>Continued on page 156</i>)</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p class="cap_ctr">YOU, MR. LEATHER-BELTING-USER!</p>
+
+<p>What is your problem?</p>
+
+<p>Do you wake up in the morning with green spots
+before your eyes? Are you depressed? Does the
+thought of a day's work with an unsatisfactory belting
+weigh upon your mind, bringing on acidosis,
+hardening of the arteries, and a feeling of opposition
+to the League of Nations?</p>
+
+<p>If so, let us tackle your problem for you.</p>
+
+<p>We have built up a service department which
+stands alone in its field. For sixteen years we have
+been making it the perfect institution that it is
+to-day.</p>
+
+<p>Bring your belting troubles to Mr. Henry W.
+Wurlitz, who is at the head of our service department,
+and he will set you right. He will show you
+the way to a Bigger, Better, Belting outlook.</p>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+<p class="center">(<i>Continued from page 140</i>)</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>"I beg your pardon," he said softly, as they emerged on
+the street, "but did you drop this flask?"</p>
+
+<p>She turned quickly and faced him. There was a twinkle
+in her dark brown eyes as she answered him:</p></blockquote>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>To be continued</i>)</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Of All Things, by Robert C. Benchley
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+</body>
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