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diff --git a/37660-0.txt b/37660-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a380d46 --- /dev/null +++ b/37660-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5117 @@ +*** 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'œil_, 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 +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 *** |