PS A55T 903 Class ^SS&IQ Book . A 5 S ^ CoByrightM°-_ I^Q^ COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. Sparkling Shots BY KATHRYN HUNT JAMES Author of "Glints' A Compilation from The Sioux City Stylus Sioux City, Iowa Published by The Author 1909 T5 ^^^"^ \'\^ \ Copyright 1909 By KATHRYN HUNT JAMES CI.A2534iJ0 Sparkling Shots If the Creator hadn't have seen fit to have created me a woman with all the inherent feminine traits that have been handed down since Eve trespassed in the garden of Eden. I thinlv I should have chosen to become an eligible bachelor. He certainly holds trump cards in the game of life in this part of the country at any rate, where parents with a family of girls are dead anxious to get them married off and where eligible mates are as rare as butterflies in a turnip patch. He has the entree to the very best homes in the city if he is in any ways eligible; invitations to dinners and dances are showered upon the fortunate victim of maneuvering mam- mas and designing daughters galore. Theatre parties, picnics and excursions of all sorts are planned in order that he may be tiirown in the company of some sweet, in- nocent young thing who plays her hand in the matrimonial game with the skilled cun- ning of a veteran gambler. He doesn't need much stock in trade, the eligible bachelor, an appropriate suit for social occasions, an agreeable manner, a knowledge of cards, a willingness to dance with the fat old dames who line up against the wall during the terp- sichorean affairs, and an unlimited amount of small talk are all that are necessary. If his linen is immaculate society doesn't care a picayune how foul is his character. It doesn't cost the E. B. much to shine socially for rival maneuvering mammas con- sider it quite honor enough if he accepts in- vitations to their sumptuous repasts; they don't expect a poor lorn bachelor to do any entertaining. He is petted and pampered by femininity both old and young, who treat him as though he were a little tin god, until his egotism becomes obnoxious. He fondly Imagines all this attention is due to his charming personality, when in reality 'tis due to the fact that women are a drug on the matrimonial market and men are at a premium. Of all the colossal selfishness that ever existed the eligible bachelor certainly has the lion's share and the women themselves have contributed materially to his condition by their foolish palavering. Wooing has been made so easy and courting possesses so little resistance to the eligible swain and the fact is so apparent that he can have his pick in the rose bud garden of girls, that he flutters from one to the other as undecid- ed which one to choose as the elusive bee which flower to settle upon; he procrastin- ates in the garden of love until he is either given up as hopeless by designing daughters and maneuvering mammas and drifts into old bachelorhood or finally plucks one of the 6 willin' Barcuses and is out of the matrimon- ial market entirely. No wonder men don't propose and mat- rimony is rapidly growing obsolete. There is no chance in the game whatever, he is a sure winner. The course of true love runs as smoothly as the placid water of a ripple- less stream. Better have the swain run the gamut of clubs in the hands of natives like the Aboriginese in order to win his bride than have her thrown at his head. Stock in the matrimonial market would go up in- stanter if the pathway were more rugged and the swains would clamber over them- selves in order to win out in the contest; nature intended man to be the pursuer and woman the eluder and naught is gained by turning the tables. Life is full and running over with little tragedies; occasionally we get a glimpse into the real self of the people with whom we touch elbows day after day. One day last week an old fellow — nay he was not old save from his white hair, seamed face, and knotty, toil h£;.Tdened hands, for not more than seven or eight and two score years had pass ed over his head and his heart was young — he told me of his life's little tragedy and how his heart was starved for the things for which he most longed. No amusement of any sort eyer came into his life to relieve the monotony of his day's drudgery on the farm; he toiled from morning until night for the necessities and comforts of his family; he seldom saw a face save those of his own little circle. He only upon rare occasions had an opportunity of touching elbows with this big, delightful old world so full of in- teresting people and things. His wife was a home lover to a degree and held amusements as frivilous and unneces- sary; her family and her home were suf- ficient for her happiness and she couldn't or wouldn't understand the heart hunger of her husband for diversion from the every day routine. Their tastes were utterly and entirely different and she couldn't see that because of it he is gradually slipping the home leash; this night the lonely old fellow wandered aimlessly about in search of some innocent amusement and finally drifted into one of the moving picture shows whither he was drawn by the garish light. As he lost himself in the throng I marveled that woman could be so blind — maybe it is self- ishness with some or indiference. I be- lieve it is the duty of every woman who is fortunate enough to possess a good and worthy husband to at least occasionally give in to his harmless whims even if she does in her heart deride them. I know of one of the happiest young couples in existence who owe their happi- ness entirely to the fact that the sensible young woman catered to her husband's hob- bies. He was a lover of the rod and reel and in fact a veritable gipsy for out of door sports; the young woman was a lover of home and indoor pleasures but she made up her mind to share his sports with him and learn to enjoy the things he enjoyed. She is as much of a gipsy now as he and the twain go off on long jaunts together, each entirely sufficient unto the other; there is naught to mar their complete harmony and they are as devoted to each other as ttiey were in the days of their honeymoon. Harmony in taste is one of the principal essentials to domestic happiness. It stands to reason that a book worm and a butterfly will have nothing in common; a bob o' link and a doormouse wouldn't harmonize; a snail and a hare would never make an equal race; an intellectual giant and a dul- lard would make sorry business of a life to- gether. The delicfite and refined would be out of harmony with the coarse and un- couth. A music lover should by all means marry a musician else he will feel the great loss all his life of the exquisite harmonies that mean so much to him. A dreamer and theorist would be unspeakably miserable with a too earthly helpmeet and a practi- cal nature would be all out of harmony with an artistic, soulful temperament. Inhar- monious tastes are the cause of half the domestic discords of life. Commercialism is the wheel of Jugger- naught that crushes out the hope, the joy, the bea-uty, aye, and the very life itself of the women, who, from choice or necessity enter its portals. The steady, monotonous grind from morning until night, year in and year out, the continual and everlasting scrimping and economizing to make both ends meet, the constant denying of pleasures beyond the possibilities of one's purse, the turning and twisting of gowns already worn threti-dbare — this eternally penny counting business wears a woman out body and soul. In every normal woman's heart there lurks the love for the beautiful; it's quite as natural for her to long to decorate herself with pretty garments as it is for a pecccock to be vain of its tailfeathers; the hardest lesson a business woman has to learn is to deny herself pretty clothes. The Creator put her in the world to be ornamental as well as useful, and she longs to fulfill her mission to the fullest, but her slender purse must be the balast that keeps her within reason, and her common sense adjures her to pass up the pretty vanities for the plainer, more substantial things of life. That's what tries her soul, this ever- lastingly putting up with the plain things. In selecting her gowns she is compelled to go by its wearing qualities instead of style or shade; in choosing her headgear she must be conservative in style, because forsooth, it must wear her another year. As to her pedal extremities, she has 10 to buy the commonest kind of walking shoes, with heavy, substantial soles — no French heels or paper soles for her. Even her appetite must be amendable to the strictest economy and only the plainest and cheapest of edibles must make up her bill of fare. Not only must her physical appetite remain partly unappeased, but her soul must starve for the things for which it hopelessly yearns. She has neither time nor money for books or flowers or music. The pitiful little economies she is compelled to practice warp her nature and shrivel her soul. Her life is a plain, cold, hard propo- sition for her, utterly bereft of all that goes to make it worth living. Over yonder on the table lies a late mag- azine whose uncut leaves cry out for neg- lect; its owner is a business woman and has only had time to glance hurriedly over the index and scan a few of the illustrations — and it's mighty tempting with its leaves moist and damp from the very freshness of the printers' ink. On the piano lie snatches from the latest opera that remain untried for lack of time. Peeping from the work basket are partially made patterns of deli- cate lace which feminine fingers fairly tingle to get mixed up in, but alack aday, unpaid bills swinging from their hooks pre- clude any such delight — the sordid com- mercial world has first claim. O yum! I wish I had a limitless bank ac- count — I'd buy gowns as delicate and flim- sy and as destructible as a spider's web; 11 I'd buy paper-soled, patent leather shoes, or- namented with ridiculous little bows, and I'd have enough pairs to make a centipede rejoice. I'd buy gee-gaws and glittering baubles galore; I'd buy gold chains and ropes of pearl enough to choke a giraffe. I'd wear sparkling gems on every finger I possessed including my thumbs. I'd live on ambrosia and quaff nectar fit for the gods. I'm sick of scrimping and economiz- ing; I'm sick of everlastingly counting the pennies; I'm tired of the plain, substantial things of life, and if I had a limitless bank account — ye gods, wouldn't I make ducks and drakes of it! The god of the elements in this neck o' the woods is as capricious at this time of the year as milady coquette. He smiles and frowns and weeps by turn; one minute his subjects are basking in the warm, effulgent rays of cheery old Sol and the next are drenched by the sprinkling carts of old Jup- iter Pluvius, who has been working over- time of late. One minute his subjects are softly fanned by the gentle zephyrs of heaven and the next are roughly buffetted by a fierce, wild wind. He gives very little premonition of his moods and a day of sun- shine is as like as not to end in a war of the elements accompanied by mutterings 12 and rumblings and oft' times the heavy can- nonading of heaven's artillery- Last evening the waters of the pretty lit- tle lake that winds in and out of Nebraska's shores like a great, silver ribbon, lapped the beach as gently as a canine might lap the hand of a kind master. It's placid bosom re- flected the twilight's delicate coloring as a chameleon reflects its surroundings. The only sound to be heard was the steady dip of the oars as a muscular boatman pulled steadily for the opposite shore. The wave- lets followed the strokes in laughing little ripples on the surface of the lake; the gen- tle breeze fanned our faces and toyed play- fully with the loose strands of our hair as we sat in silent enjoyment of our surround- ings. Someone in a distant camp was strum- ming a guitar while now and then in the distance could be heard the hoarse call of a cat bird or the musical chee of one of na- ture's song birds. The face of nature wore the beatific smile of a sleeping babe — the god of the elements was in a gentle mood and all was well. But presto! No sooner had we sought our couches beneath our canvas roof than we began to detect a change in the mood of the weather god. Distant mutterings and rumb- lings, forked lightning that darted ever and anon from the darkening heavens like the hissing tongue of a serpent foretold an im- pending storm. The cottonwoods overhead commenced to rustle their leaves and nod their heads as the gentle zephyrs became a 13 little boisterous. The weather god began to marshal his forces in earnest. The distant mutterings grew more distinct, the lightning more vivid and the fluttering leaves of the cottonwoods began to swish before the wind. In a few seconds the god of the elements began to vent his fury. The swish of the cottonwoods changed to a roar before the fury of the gale, the lightning lit up the heavens from dome to horizon with its lurid, sulphurious glow, while the cannonading from heaven's artillery was deafening. Jup- iter Pluvius, not to be outdone by the other warring elements delivered the goods in bucketfuls until it seemed the very founda- tion of his reservoir must have dropped out. The lake which had lain so placid in the twilight's dying flush, was Itished to fury by the intensity of the gale; the waves hurled themselves in fiendish rage against the beach and receded in mountains of foam, only to make a more fiendish onslaught. The guy ropes of our canvas home tugged and pulled and jerked until it seemed to the terrified occupants that they must give way. The roaring of the wind, the booming of the waves, together with the inky blackness of the night, relieved only by the fierce flashes of electricity, made a nightmare of horror to the terrified campers as they realized that' between them and the warring elements there lay only a bit of flapping canvas, and man is pitiably helpless in the tremendous power of the elements. The minutes were hours, the hours days 14 to the anxious watchers, and over all was that impenetrable wall of inky blackness — always the blackness for hours and hours. After what seemed days to the weary camp- ers, the great black pall began gradually to lift — streaks of gray began to appear in the east; presently the wind cetvsed to tug at the guy ropes, the swishing cottonwoods fell gradually back to their flutterings; the lightning, loath to give up, satisfied itself with spiteful flashes here and there, while the thunder fell to low rumblings. A bird in the distance began to trill its lay. The gray streak in the east gradua-Uy merged into pale pink, into lavender, into crimson, and lo. and behold the sun glints began to dance upon the still waters of the lake and presto, the god of the elements was smiling upon the world once again. And now, once more, the rooming ques- tion. If you are a woman and have a home of your own you ought to breathe a prayer of thanksgiving every day of your life for your glorious independence. Rather live in a sod shanty, if 'tis all one's own, than dwell in a palace that belongs to another. The roomer is a much abused individual; he is deprived of most privileges and nearly all rights save that of paying rent. He is not allowed to burn the midnight oil owing to the increase in the gas bill. He must be in, 15 too, at a seemly hour for fear of disturbing the family. He is not allowed to console himself with the fragrant weed for fear smoking might be distasteful to some one in the house. As to the woman roomer, of which there is as large an army as there is of men, the rules and regulations are just as strict. The piano must be silent for most of the time for fear of disturbing somebody's baby or somebody's siesta. After ten o'clock no sound of gaiety must be heard for fear some other roomer who rises at an unseemly hour might not get his allotted sleep. Even the privilege of regaling one's self with a cup of tea is denied her for fear, forsooth, the land- lady's ceiling might take on an ebony hue. The economical housekeeper turns off the heat through the day and the woman roomer is compelled to hunt other quarters or freeze. In truth because a woman is more apt to remain in her room during the day than a man, hard hearted, tight-fisted home-makers prefer men roomers to mem- bers of their own sex. "Know of anyone who wants to rent a room?" accosted an acquaintance yesterday. "My wife prefers someone who is out most of the time." "Wouldn't you rather have someone who is out all the time?" I suggest- ed diabolically, "it might be more conven- ient for you." Ye gods! this rooming prop- osition is enough to drive a stiint to dis- traction. No philantropist in the wide world could do a more charitable act than 16 to erect a building for the accommodation of the homeless who are able and willing to pay substantially for a real home where they can do absolutely as they please. O me, if I had a home of my own I'd turn on the gas and light every jet in the house until the ceilings were as black as a nig- ger's heel. I'd pound the piano until the longest long distance player in existence would look like a measly duce alongside an ace of trump. I'd shout for joy loud enougn to wake the dead. I'd do all this gentle reader, to commemorate the day of my free- dom, the day of absolute independence. If you are harboring one of the homeless wand- erers, be charitable. Don't be everlastingly complaining of their imaginary short com- ings. Put yourself in their place and see if you might not do likewise. Remember, they too have their grievances. In your selfish home life try not to forget that the great- est happiness radiates from the home circle; let some of its effulgent gleams warm the heart of the stranger that dwells beneath your roof. You lose nothing by it and you know not the inestimable gain to another. 9 4) All men are born free and equal, we are assured by our forefathers, but the way fate juggles with our destinies is enough to set 17 the assertion of our learned ancestors at naught. One man is born to a life of ease, with limitless wealth at his disposal, while another inherits naught but poverty and toil. One is born a sovereign to command, another a lowly subject whose destiny is to serve. One is born a queen with a diadem and a throne for hers, while another is born a serving maid. One is born into whose life naught but roseate hues e're glow, while another's colorless horizon is never bright- ened by a single ray of sunlight. One shall be born with a wholesome body, who goes through life unto the threescore years and more without an ache or pain, a-n- other shall be born with a poor, shapeless body, a hideous thing which must be his outward form from the cradle to the grave. One shall be born whose great intellect shall set him upon the world's lofty pinnacles, while for another a clouded intellect and a blighted reason are his unto the end. Upon one woman fate bestows beauty and charm and grace and so generously does she be- stow her gifts that another must suffer the lack of all outward comeliness all the days of her life. And yet man is born free and equal, we are assured. I saw a frail young girl with blue rimmed eyes and blue veined temples and a pale, sad face waiting upon an ex- travagantly clad, rosy cheeked girl just about her own age, whose private touring car had swung her to the very doors of the emporium where she had naught to do but 18 I revel in the pretty gee-gaws and glittering bC'jubles that mean so much to the heart of a girl. I could have wept for very pity of the frail young thing behind the counter who was treated with such obvious condescen- tion by the haughty miss. Perhaps, after all, the mantle of charity should be spread over the poor overworked, underpaid young things who satisfy the natural longings of their hearts for pretty things by question- able means, at least it behooves us not to judge them too harshly. I saw a fat, haughty dame with her two children and a maid board a car not long since. The meek, plainly clad maid, who was carrying a load of heavy iron toys for the boisterous youngsters had evidently had her instructions for she sank into an obscure corner of the car some distance from the haughty dame and hardly dared lift her eyes from the floor. When the party dismounted, the mistress as utterly ignored the maid as though she were a dog and left her trailing along in their wake like a whipped puppy. I'd rather be a hewer of stones for the rest of my days than work for such a woman. I refute in toto the assertion of our fore- fathers that all mankind is born free and equal. Any woman who deliberately chooses a business career for herself instead of dom- 19 esticity, any woman who throws herself into the seething vortex of commercialism unless driven to it by adverse circumstances ought to be committed to an asylum for the feeble minded. Women, with their delicate, high- strung, sensitive nerves were never intended for bread winners; their frail physical organ- ization outclasses them in the running with their strong, coarse, enduring male compet- itors. Business is business the same as "pigs is pigs," and no more consideration is shown to petticoats than to trousers. Men and women alike are rooting at the same commercial hog trough, and the big- gest, rudest hog roots up the choicest bits without any consideration for his compan- ions; it's not a case of the survival of the fittest by h: long ways in this struggle for existence. The Creator knew his business when he threw the protection of the home about the woman; He intended that' she should be shielded from the cares and wor- ries and responsibilities incidental to wrest- ling a living from this hard old world; it's the fool woman's fault that she took the bit in her own teeth and bolted from the beaten path. She has only herself to blame for her fiat against the natural order of things. The world produced better men when women were content to remain in the home and encourage them by their tact and sym- pathy in their battle with the world. A man with the right sort of wife — a home loving woman back of him can accomplish infinite- 20 ly more than a man whose wife prefers the business world. In the natural order of things her earning capacity is not as great as his and she had far better save the wear and tear on her nervous system that a business career is bound to make and con- tent herself by assisting him to redouble his earning capacity. A woman is far and away better off to have her mind on her simple home duties than to be everl^cStingly bartering about dollars and cents. She had a heap better be piping a roundelay in her little home than be croaking in a noisy business pond. She had far better be helping some worthy man to build himself up than be everlastingly scrimping and economizing on her own meager wage. Economy— ye, gods! it's the whole slogan of a business woman's exis- tence from sun rise to sun set, year in and year out from the time she makes her en- try into the commercial arena up to the time of her exit. It's a hard struggle all told, the odds are heavily agjxinst her and a pity 'tis, 'tis true that the rank and file of the world's workers are rapidly filling with women while the home is steadily growing to be a secondary con- sideration. The world needs wives and mothers a whole lot more that it needs bread winners. Art thou also, gentle reader, one of those always-going-to-do-it individuals? Are the 21 nether regions paved with your good inten- tions? If they are not, then thank the good Lord above for the wearisome regrets and heart-aches you have escaped for the things left undone, the kind words left unspoken, the good resolution you never kept. One little act, no matter how trivial, that is real- ly accomplished is worth a cart load of good resolutions. The individual who is always going to do things never accomplishes any- thing. The clock ticks away the seconds, the minutes, the hours; the opportunities are ticked away with time, and eternity over- takes the unfortunate individual before he even begins to set about really doing things. The little cripple next door — you always intended to brighten his long, dreary days with a cluster of flowers, but every day brought its own duties and the kind act was put off from time to time until one day you missed the pale little face from its accus- tomed place at the window and the bit of crepe fluttering from the front door told you that all the flowers in the world wouldn't iitone for one little cluster unsent that might have brought joy to a lonely little soul. The white haired old lady whom you intended every day to cheer with an hour's reading passed to the great beyond before you could take an hour from your busy life. The little message of comfort you intended to drop to a bed ridden friend still remained unsent, when one day an ominous black-bordered envelope told you that the message would fall upon unheeding ears, 22 The kind little thing you had stored iij) in your mind to say to a dear friend is left unsaid while the friend has passed out of your horizon and the kindness that would have cost you so little and meant so much to her has joined the other good intentions. You intend some day to be a millionaire, but you don't try to make your intention good by beginning to save your nickles and dimes now. You expect' some day to win a poet's laurels but you go on dreaming about it in- stead of beginning to compose a sonnet to milady's eyebrow or some other touching topic dear to the poetic soul. You want to be an author and have visions of writing a novel that will some day startle the world, but you haven't even commenced to outline your first story. You intend to break away from some bad habit, perhaps, that has you in thrall, but you go on from day to day with the in- tention stored away in a corner of your mind that's fast becoming over run with its load of good resolutions untried and after a while the habit that could have been as easily broken at first as a spider's web has become as unflinchable as a steel cable. Perhaps you intend some day to become a world renowned diva and you go on dream- ing of the world's applause while the tedious vocal gymnastics remain unpracticed. This world is chock full and running over with going-to-do-it individuals; their name is legion and hades must have millions upon millions of miles paved with their good in- tentions. The "Do It Now" and "Tempes 23 Fugit" placards that these careless individ- uals hang about to act as a spur to their lagging ambitions have about as much effect as the prick of a pin upon an elephant's hide. Time is no laggard — it's inexorable in its onward march and brings us to the end of our career before we have scarce com- menced to live and our opportunities to say kind things, to do kind deeds, to accomplish our ambitions are swept into the darkness of time's eternity. Duty and today are ours, the future and futurity belong to God. There is nothing so detrimental to a boy's or girl's success in life as the notion that they want a "soft snap," an "easy job" — a place where they won't have to work. There is no royal road to success, it's won only through unremitting toil. Any man who gets to the top unless put there through the acci- dent of birth, deserves every iota of ac- knowledgment he can wring from a hard old world. Do the biographies of greut men sound as though their pathway had been strewn with roses? They invariably came from the farm, where they toiled early and late, and what knowledge they gleaned from their books was obtained after a hard day's work. They worked like Trojans, these men of destiny, nor thought they were abused because they were working over time. 24 The boy who is looking for a soft snap will never reach the top rung in the ladder of success— nay, his foot never even strikes the first rung. It's only by hard and unremitting toil that favorable results can be achieved in anything and the boy or girl who is afraid of work will always occupy a subordinate position in life. Think you if Washington had been eternally looking for a soft snap he would have arisen to the highest position it was within the power of a great nation to bestow? If Abraham Lincoln had been afraid of work, think you he could have hewn his way to the White House? And so on through the galaxy of success- ful men— the story of their lives is one of toil and sacrifice from the beginning. The youth of today is not a whit like the hard headed, brawney, muscular youth who fol- lowed the plough a half century agone; un- fortunately families desert the farm and flock to the city with the mistaken notion that there are better educational facilities for their children. The farm is the best educational institution in the world; the les- sons learned there are of inestimable value in forming character and in good, practical training along useful lines. Children are taught the dignity of labor and from the time they are old enough to understand, each child is alotted his shiire of the work— idle- ness is unknown on the farm. The broad fields give them plenty of room in which to grow; they are no more like the 25 city children than hardy plants of the prairie are like delicate hot house flowers. There are fewer temptations on the farm than in the city; there is little work for the city youth to do and during his leisure time, of which he posses far more than is good for him, he cultivates the expensive and injur- ious habit of smoking, and learns, too, the insiduous vice of gambling through the med- ium of the numerous slot machines, and be- fore he is twenty he is inured to every vice under the sun. His muscles become flabby through dis- use and he takes on rather an anaemic ap- pearance. He really can't stand much hard work, hence his desire for a "soft snap." He is too busy hunting up amusements too, to consider seriously a life career; I know a boy who lost a fine position in a bank be- cause he refused to cut out a few of his pleasures at the bank president's request. They are mighty poor timber for the govern- ment to rest upon and our future statesmen will have to come from the rank and file of the foreigners who have invaded our land and allied themselves with American inter- ests. One of the things that goes to make life worth the living is friendship. He who pos- sesses friends, e'en though he be poor in 26 this world's goods is far and away richer than he who counts his gold by the mil- lions if he possess not the love of his fel- lowmen. Friendship, like everything else in life worth while is neither cheaply bought nor easily held; it means constant self sacri- fice; selfish interests must be put aside; selfish desires must be shelved; selfish thoughts expunged. Selfishness destroys friendship — unselfishness is its corner stone. The friendless men and women have only themselves to blame; if they show them- selves friendly the world will meet them half way. If they draw into their shells and shut themselves up like clams the world will make no effort to distrub their soli- tude; life is too short to spend time delv- ing into clam shells, 'twere better to be basking in friendship's warm light. The flower of friendship is well worth all the sacrifice one must make in nurturing the seedling; it winds its tendrils about one's heart in times of affliction and helps to heal life's grievous wounds with its tender sym- pathy. It shares our joys as well as our sor- rows and is as ready with its laughter as irs tears. It stands ever ready to serve at all times and rich in all that makes life worth the living is he who can grapple to his soul with hoops of steel innumerable friends. Just what we put into life just that much do we get out of it and no more. What we harvest depends altogether upon what we sow. If we scatter the seeds of unkind- ness, sarcasm and sefishness then of a sure- ty we can't expect our harvest will be white with the blossoms of friendship. Kindli- ness is the thing that pays in the long run; a kindly spirit is worth more to its possess- or than unlimited wealth. A smile goes a sight farther than a frown and a kind word farther than a blow. The world gives back smile for smile and frown for frown and every sarcastic arrow that leaves our quiv- er returns to us laden with the venom of unfriendliness. For all the sacrifices we make in order to hold our friends, if they be worthy, are we amply rewarded in the richness and wealth of lasting friendship. $ And now have we come to the time of year when we begin to feel the call of the wild. The short, crisp notes of the little bob white, the swelling buds, the warm, lazy atmosphere are all calling to us to throw off the shackles of our close, musty offices and go rollicking out in the open. One's fingers fairly tingle to get hold of a shovel, a spade or a rake to clear up the winter's rubbish on the lawn or to spade up the rich ground for a garden. Aye, a garden is a business man's salvation; it means ex- ercise for his body and recreation for his mind; the fresh air he breathes invigor- ates and refreshes him for the whole day. Aside the good the exercise may do him a 28 garden is an excellent investment for a man with a family, to say nothing of the joy of eating the products of his own skill as a horticulturist. And as for the house wife, a flower gar- den is productive of the utmost pleasure as well as beiiig of the greatest convenience. A little floral centerpiece adds a hundred per cent to the family dining table, while an ugly mound on the lawn can be transformed by very little expense and labor into a thing of beauty. I should think any mother of a family would be happy to teach her lit- tle ones the wonderful workings of nature through the object lesson taught by the mar- velous transformation of the common place little seed into the beautiful bud and finally into the exquisite full blown blossom. A trailing vine, a rose bush, a floral hedge add infinitely to the value as well as the looks of a home. If no garden space is available a box garden on the porch or be- neath the window helps out wonderfully in the looks of a place; now that the time of seed planting is coming on help to make a bright little patch in the part of the world wherein you dwell by making a garden. The results are ample return for the time spent in its cultivation. Styles in flowers as well as in every- thing else have changed since our grand- mother's time. She enjoyed her hollyhocks, bachelor's buttons, four o'clocks, marigolds and lady slippers quite as much as we do our nasturtiums, pansies and asters. The 29 old fashioned flowers were not things of beauty from an artistic standpoint; they grew straight and stiff and formal while the colors were positively ugly; they were entirely devoid of odor but they were the best they had and every farmer's wife in the community considered her flower garden as much of a necessity as the potato patch. It was the only bright spot oft' times in the lives of our grandmothers, who knew more of drudgery in one day than we of this generation do in a year. They sha.^ed the farm work with their husbands and at- tended unaided to all the household affairs besides rearing a large family of children. They were spared the trials and tribulations of the servant problem because they dis- pensed with servants altogether. They made their own cheese and butter and in fact nearly everything consumed by the family were products of their skill. They even spun the linen that composed their garments and take it all in all they were far happier and lived longer than the spoiled women of today, who fritter their precious time away playing cards for prizes or worse yet, money, and who leave the comfort of their families in the hands of ignorant ser- vants. Shades of our sensible ancesotrs! what would they think of their frivilous descendants if they knew how they squan- dered their time? 30 I'm so sick and tired of this mad scramble for money that I'd like to take all the green- backs in the country, heap them all to- gether and touch a match to the pile. I'd clap my hands for very joy as the flames leaped to the sky. I'd like to take every bit of the silver in Uncle Sam's mint, melt it in a cauldron and mould it into bullets and I'd like to take all the bill collectors in Chrsit- endom out of the city limits and riddle them so full of silver they'd never want another dollar. This everlastingly grasping after the al- mighty dollar has turned the nation into a conscienceless, heartless, unscrupulous King Midas. Character, honor, integrity count for naught; gold is the sceptre that' rules the world. Our millionaires are honored above our statesmen, our moneyed men above the literary genius. Man is measured by what ho has, not by what he is. Commercialism has crept into our homes; mothers teach their daughters from early girlhood to capture a man with money and if she finally lands a gilded lobster in her matrimonial net the aforesaid designing mamma boasts in no measured terms to envious mothers of marriagable daughters about the size of his fortune. She doesn't care a picayune if his character is as black as a raven's wing or his head as empty as a last year's bird's nest, just so he has the money. I'm going to hie me away from this sordid old money mad world and go out into the woods ere the silver rays of another moon sheds her 31 radiance. I'm going where the oxygen don't come at so much per square inch or the sunshine at so much a bottle, or the concerts of the feathered songsters at so much per ticket, I'm going where I can gather great clusters of pink-petaled roses with dew drops shimmering in their pretty hearts and where no outrageous price is charged by greedy florists for stingy bunches of the floral beauties. I'm going where nature spreads upon her great canvas some more glorious scenes than were ever depicted by an artist's brush; no admission fee is charged to her art gallery — neither at tl:e dawn when she blows her awakening trumpet nor in the twilight when the meek-eyed bossies add the sound of their tinkling bells as they amble slowly along the shady lanes, to the reposeful study in still life. I'm gcnng where fashion plates don't exist and where the inhabitants of the woody dells wouldn't know a lingerie suit from a gunny sack. I'm going where the richest treasures in the world are mine without money or price. I'm going back to the woods for awhile. Wouldn't you hate to live in a country where the people waited with breathless anticipation for days and weeks the arrival of a weazened-up, red-faced bit of humanity and when he finally made his appearance in 32 the world went wild with joy at the pros- pect of a future monarch? Wouldn't you hate to live in a country where the cannons boomed twice as many booms to announce the arrival of a boy as a girl? Wouldn't you hate to live in a country where an old stiff in gold laces and straps and all sorts of in- signias of his royal birth took the new bit of humanity on a silver salver, passed it along a whole row of stiffs just like himself and announced with terrific elation, "Gentle- men, it is a prince I" Wouldn't you hate to be a queen, if you were a woman, and have the first baby you ever brought into the world snatched away from you before you could hardly experience the first joyful throb of motherhood, and put into the hands of strange ministers and high officials and when you finally did get the precious piece of humanity back not be allowed even the privilege of "administering the natural food the Creator intended should be his? Wouldn't you hate to live in a country where the accident of birth, alone, has all to do with the head of the nation and where, be he imbecile or a weakling, you must do him honor and close your eyes and ears to his short comings? Wouldn't you hate to live in a country where, if you were poor, your family had to go without the very ne- cessities of life in order to let the royal fam- ily loll in the lap of luxury? Wouldn't you hate to live in a country where, when you see your fellow man suffer crying wrongs, there is no redress save from a 33 stiff-necked monarch? Wouldn*t you rather live in a country where the future ruler of the greatest and most progressive nation in the world is just as liable, aye, far more liable, to first see the light of day in a humble cottage than a gild- ed palace? Wouldn't you rather live in a country where ability, and ability alone, counts and where every boy in the land stands an equal chance of some day being the head of the greatest country in the world? Wouldn't you rather live in a coun- try where girl babies are just exactly as wel- come as boy babies.? Wouldn't you rather live in a country where when the people begin to be imposed upon and to suffer wrong, they can put the mighty force of the ballot into effect and crush it instanter? America! E'en with all thy faults of trusts and inflated corporations r:nd moneyed knaves, I'd rather dwell in a humble cottage 'neath thy stars and stripes and breathe the air of freedom than to dwell in a gilded palace in any other land. And now we are close to the threshold of another autumn, already Dame Nature be- gins to show signs of decay and there is a faint tint of winter's frosty breath in the late twilight's cooling breezes. The cotton- woods are fairly tinged with yellow and their sparse leaves that seem to rustle to 34 every passing zephyr seem to send forth a sigh for the waning summer. The su- mach is beginning to redden beneath its huge glossy leaves and the tasselled gold- enrod nods its plumy head from all the hills and dales round about. Huge fields of sun- flowers turn their broad faces to the sun on every side while their little sisters, the black-eyed susans nod their heads saucily to passers by from the roadside. The horse mint with its shaggy leaves and coarse purple flower grows side by side its dainty lavender cousin, the wild mint. Huge clusters of delicate lavender blossoms with their round fluffy heads and pretty seed pod pendants form hedges £x,long the road while the distant fields are fairly white with great bunches of snow on the mountain. These gorgeous floral offerings are dying summers' last gift to early autumn; the tas- selled corn stalks, whose stiff blades whisper of full ears and of bounteous harvests, the purple haze that ha-ngs like a soft veil about the distant blue-rimmed hills and grows only too soon into twilight's early pall, be- speak in a language only too plain the time of the sear and yellow leaf. The common things of life, after all, are best — the wild flowers that grow in such riotous masses are far more beautiful than our hot-house exotics; the untrained warb- lers of the forest are far and away superior to high priced artists. The exquisite color- ing of the sun set, the harmonious blending of delicate shades depicted by the hand of 35 nature, the sweeping valleys, the undulating hills with their lights and shadows that rip- ple in soft green waves would put to shame the best efforts of the world's greatest ar- tists. The butterfly with its dainty, gossamer wings and delici^-te traceries would ,tax the ingenuity of man to form even a cheap imi- tation. The common field daisies which nod their heads from vale to hillock for miles around would defy the cunning of man to shape its equal. The silken meshes of the spider web's shining strands are woven into such exquisite designs as to be the despair of human lace makers. Nature reserves not the treasures of her store house for the wealthy, but dispenses her riches with a lavish hand to high and low alike. In reach- ing for the stars let us not overlook the jewels at our feet for of a surety the best things, the most precious things in life, the things that make life worth the living, are the common things. The common people are by far the great- est factor in the world's upbuilding. It's from among their ranks that our greatest statesmen spring. Despise not the common little street gamin from whose grimy little hand you get your evening paper, for under- neath the ragged cap and touseled hair may lie the brain of a future president. Even the boy who blacks your boots may some day become c-: millionaire.. The little girl who sings on the streets for pennies may some day be a great star in 36 the galaxy of grand opera artists. The country clod-hopper who follows the plow may l)e turning over in his mind as he turns the furrows some mechanical device which will some day startle the world. Despise not the common things. 4; 4. Deliver me from human clams! Deliver me from people who are so shut up in their own narrow little selves that they can utterly ignore the claims of others for con- sideration. There's the man or woman who fails to pass along the good word that is said £xbout a fellowman; he is cheating a fellow creature out of what is rightfully his and is doing him more of a wrong than if he withheld from him something of in- trinsic value; a few words of encourage- ment are oft' times worth far more than a mint of gold and "kind words are more than coronets." We are too prone to keep within our- selves kindly thoughts of others; the word of tvppreciation that might mean so much to our fellow plodders we keep shut up within ourselves; the comfort that we could bring into the lives of others with so little trouble to ourselves we carelessly overlook. The word of appreciation for the thousand and one kindly acts of a dear old mother are often withheld until her ears are stilled to 37 all earthly things and we would give all that life holds dear if we could give her one tenth of what rightfully belonged to her. There are loved ones around and about us today whose hearts are hungry for the kindness we so selfishly withhold. If men were more appreciative of the efforts their wives put forth for their com- fort and benefit, there would be fewer dis- satisfied women in the home. If women were more appreciative of the tremendous efforts a man puts forth to maintain the home, it would lighten his burden wonder- fully. Let us not wait until the eyes of our loved ones are closed in their last long sleep before we shower them with blossoms; let us not wait until their ears are dulled to all things earthly before we pour forth our kindly thoughts. If we have a flower to give, let us give it now; if we have a kind word to say, let us speak it now; if we have a kind act to perform, let us do it now. for e'er long the night cometh when the opportunity to administer to our fellowman has passed and gone forever. There are so many starved hearts in the world, I'd like to take the human clams and shake them clear out of their shells. An old man, white haired and stooped with the weight of his years, who has almost reached the parting of the ways, confided to me how bereft of kind and encouraging words the years that lay behind him had been; how absolutely devoid of apprecia- tion were his friends, and now that he had come to the years of his inactivity were 38 they waking up to his real worth and words that would have been so precious to him in bygone days now fell upon unheeding ears. O, the pity of it! Why don't they leave their narrow shells and come out into the sunshine of charity and love, where they can expand and grow and live? The light that's hid cheereth no weary wayfarer upon life's darkened journey. A flickering candle set upon a- hilltop can do more good than a headlight under a bushel. $ $ Jack Frost performed a greater miracle the other night than ever was wrought by the genii of the magic lamp and lo tmd be- hold, the prosaic wold's transformation at dawn! The brown, bare limbs and branches of the trees were encrusted with myriads of frost crystals that sparkled and shone under the sun glints like a d&zzling array of pre- cious gems. Huge ropes of pearls were festooned about the fence rails and house tops while every available space was filled with the most delicate tracery of lace work. The ugly weeds were transformed into things of beauty by the magic wand and nodded their frost-crowned heads most proudly to the passing breeze. E'en the blades of grass stood stiff and proud in their heavy coats of sparkling crysta-ls. 39 Away off to the north the snow-clad hills looked like hooded sentinels guarding the lavish display of precious gems, and they frowned in dismay when old Sol peeped over their snowy tops and made sad havoc of the sparkling, shimmering, chrystalized ftdryland Jack Frost had wrought. Of all the impositions inflicted upon a long- suffering public the present system of tipping is the worst. The patrons of the railroads who swell the exchequer of the companies to no matter how large an amount, get precious scant service from the dusky employes unless their palms are crossed with silver; the dusky individuals eye the change they gingerly shove the passenger's way with covetous orbs, and unless a good sized tip is forthcoming the passenger is henceforth ignored. They are pretty cunning, too, these ebony hued waiters and the change is most conveniently arranged for a gratuitous monetary gift. The most industrious one of the bunch is the colored gentleman who gets busy with the whisk broom towards the journey's end. A few lightning strokes at imaginary specks of dust and he of the broom looks for a tip. The only graceful way to avoid disappointing the dusky hued individual is to refuse to allow him to manipulate the broomlet over 40 your wardroTje. No man, or woman, either, for that matter, is game enough to accept tlie services of these paid employes without a gratuitous offering. The railroad companies save themselves thousands of dollars annually on salaries by allowing the public to be fleeced by their employes; the hired help will work for half what they would consider their services worth if it were not for the tips. If the public must pay the salaries of the com- pi'jnies' employes, let it be done fair and square and above board. Let the price of transportation include the expense of ser- vices rendered and then all the patrons of the road will be treated alike. The tipping system has been endured by the long-suffer- ing public quite long enough and it's up lo the railroad compt-uies to put a stop to the imposition before it reaches the point it has on the continent where the tourists are clamoring for legislation against the graft. Now supposing that nature and art, who are the best of friends at present, should m-;ve an encounter; supposing that nature would get angry at art for presuming upon her domain and passing off spurious goods labeled with her own genuine seal, and challenge her to a duel — I say supposing 41 such a thing should happen, it's my honest conviction that nature would get the worst of the bout. Art is having her innings now of a surety and where once the old world was horrified at the thought of the artificial replacing the real, it looks on with approval at the gigan- tic strides art is making and applauds its efforts in putting nature to the bad. Time once was when the finger of scorn followed the woman who dared add to her looks by any artificial means, and among the blue laws of the colonial days was a clause which protected £■ man against the wiles of the painted siren who caught his susceptible heart in the meshes of her peroxide tresses. Lo and behold what a change hath come over this prudish old world! Not a woman who pretends to any style but extracts her peaches and cream complexion from the numerous lotion jars that repose on her dressing table. When the complexion pro- cess is complete she bids defiance to the closest scrutiny while as for looks, O me, O my, she tops it all over the country girl who relies entirely upon nature for her beauty. Aye, if nature has been parsimonious with a woman she does not sit helpless and be- wail her sad fate, she sets about with a zeal worthy of a better cause to bring art to her assistance — the result is dazzling. If her crown of glory consists of a few stray wisps of hair as stiff and straight as an Indian's she waves it until blest if you could 42 tell whether it was a hot iron or nature that produced the result. She uses switches and "rats" and curls from the hair dressers until she possesses an abundance of the longed for hirsute adornment. Even the white teeth that gleam 'twixt her ruby lips may have been supplied by the dentist's art. If her figure is bad her dressmaker sup- plies the deficiency by a process of ped- ding. She studies colors to learn what hues will go best with her false complexion and store hair. But when a-11 is said and done there is no gainsaying she makes a pretty picture e'en though one might shudder to think what she would look like sans her arti- ficiality. She's popular, too, this little made up bit of humanity. The average man doesn't care a picayune by what process a woman makes herself presentable; if she makes a pretty picture he doesn't care a rap whether she's painted or real. This is surely the day of art and the made-up girl is on the top wave of popularity. Don't be a grouch — whatever else you are don't be that. A wet blanket, a whiner, a knocker never has any friends and never deserves any; if you're down on your luck, for goodness' sake keep it to yourself, every- body in this world out of swaddling clothes has troubles of their own and don't care to hear yours; nine times out of ten your con- dition is of your own making; it's due to 43 some defect in yourself instead of the unfair manipulation of fate. Maybe you lack courtesy in your business dealings — maybe you display a disagreeable disposition to your pL-trons; no matter how superior your goods, your lack of courtesy will in time kill your trade altogether. No one wants to transact business with a crank. One of the most successful merchants of his time owed his success to the uniform courtesy of his clerks; if the smallest act of discourtesy on their part reached his ears they were discharged instanter. In this da-y and age when competition is keen it behooves every employer to see that his employes are civil to his patrons. Courtesy is the cheapest and the best possible asset with which to commence a business career. Not only in business is it a valuable asset but in all walks of life. It helps to oil the domestic machinery and keeps hti-rmony in the home. It is of inestimable value to us in all our dealings with our fellowmen, with- out it success is impossible. If you are a crank, turn over a new leaf at the beginning of the new year and see at the end of the cycle of months if you haven't rea-ped a rich reward not only theoretically but prac- tically. 44 I wish everybody could hear his or her own voice over the telephone; some of these rasping-voiced old grouches would have their vocal tones filed if they could hear themselves as others hear them. If any- thing goes wrong the grouch pours the vials of his or her wrath upon the unoffending head of the telephone girl, who, fortunate- ly, is blessed with a serene, even temper and a soft soothing voice that does its best to smooth ruffled tempers. Now, if you will stop to think that maybe a hunderd other old grouches have been as testy and disagreeble as you that same day, and if you figure how sorely the patient girl at the other end of the 'phone is tempted to lose her temper and give the whole kit of old grouches just what they deserve, maybe you might be a little less peppry. How'd you like to be the telephone girl and have to listen to complaints couched in harsh, shrill tones from morning until night? How long do you think you could hold your tongue, eh? A pleasant voice is one of the most pre- cious, and more's the pity, the scarcest of possessions. The modern woman's voice is shrill, high-pitched and utterly unmusical; it grates on the nerves like the squeak of a saw. Her laugh, likewise is loud and shrill and nervous; the modern woman is entirely lacking in repose. She not only indicates it in her voice but in her every action; she has no reposeful years; even the twilight of life sees her chasing after illusive pleas- 45 ures if she is wealthy and finds her among the world's toilers if she is poor. She does- n't know the meaning of the word rest, and doesn't want to, and her strenuous life is shortening her years by at least a score. Here's to the man of forty! Hovering as it were on the line which joins youth with old age, he has lost the foolishness of the latter while as yet he has not come to the foibles and afflictions of the former. His intellectual capacity is at its keenest; physically he is at his best; he is discreet in his judgment of men and affairs. He is slow to wrath and while he ha-s left be- hind the hotheadedness of his youth he still retains its vim and energy. He is young enough to be interesting to youth and experienced enough to be agreeable to old age. He is a man of action; heretofore his time has been spent in planning and in storing up knowledge for the future. Now has he come to the time of his greatest activity. The nation refuses to trust the reigns of government to the hands of youth and not until a man has passed the two- score mark is he deemed capable to sit in the world's high places. Our legislative halls very seldom harbor a man less than 46 forty, and perchance they do, fellow con- gressmen laugh to scorn the judgment of youth and their opinions carry no weight. The man of forty has either figured out through his own experience or that of others a philosophy of life which generally makes of him an optimist; the crushing blows which fate deals out to him he meets with the courage of & stoic, and while he may have lost the impressionable tempera- ment of early youth, yet for that very reason does he escape the excruciating suffering that follows in the wake of early misfortunes. He lacks the foolish self-conceit of youth and yet is fully apprecictive of his own power; he knows he is of high commercial value to the world and demands his price. He is cautious, as a rule, and seldom ven- tures a project without first seeing his way to a successful terminaiton. He not only grinds out laws for us but enforces them as well; politicians are too wise to place a beardless youth upon the seat of judgment and he who is called upon to pronounce sentence upon his fellowmen has invariably passed the two-score mark. In truth and in fact the man of forty is a distinct necessity; it is he whose clear eye and steady hand guides our ship of state. Eliminate his good sense and clear judgment and this great nation would count for naught in the world's reckoning. 47 If you're a woman and have the averctge woman's vanity, you won't have a shred of it left by the time you've made half the rounds of the millinery stores in search of head covering. If ever there was a time of year when I'd gladly exchange fluffy ruffles for trousers; if ever there was a time when my soul yearned to be a man, it's when the season changes and I'm compelled by sense- less custom to put myself into the hands of villainous milliners. A man, bless his sensible soul, wears the same style hat year after year; he knows just exactly what he wants when he goes after his head-gear and the process takes not over fifteen minutes at the longest; if it's a good fit and the price suits, both the customer and proprietor are satisfied. He wants to wear just wha-t every other man is wearing; he doesn't have to stop to consider individuality and style. But it's an altogether different proposition with a woman; in the first place there are a thousand and one different styles to choose from and the bewildering mass of feathers and felt in all shapes and sizes but iidd to the purchaser's confusion. Then the fussed up, overwhelmingly magnificent clerks with their yards and yards of store hair and peachy complexions and their steady run of side remarks are anything but an aid in the nerve racking business. "That hat is exceedingly becoming, I assure you," chir- ruped one of the fussed up pieces of human- 48 ity as I stood in the torture chamber trying to balance one of the latest crazy creations on my cranium, "it's a dream," went on Fluffy Ruffles, who ought to be drawing a good salary on a yellow journal instead of selling hats. "It's a scream, that's what it is," and I sent the offending piece of millin- ery spinning down the counter. "Tee-hee, you're so funny," giggled Miss Ruffles as she chased after the lid. Funny — ye gods, after standing for two solid hours trying on fifty thousand different and distinct styles of head gear, everyone of which made me look a worse fright than its predecessor, and — funny! "You'll get used to these styles," purred Fluffy as she adjusted an unusually atro- cious bunch of felt over my ears, "they are very fetching and &re quite the latest out," and she stood at a distance to admire the inverted wash basin that was quite the latest creation in fashion's retvlm. O, these millinery shops and these milliners are a snare and a delusion. From the origina- tors to the salesmen they are a bunch of deceivers thsit prey upon the vanity of women. They band together for her un- doing; they invent some freakish style and brand it with their approval and women haven't the courage to throw off their tyranical yoke, but meekly submit and ac- cept, without a murmur, any fantastic style the fashion dictators have a mind to inflict. They follow their leaders as submissively as £• flock of sheep. Would that we had the courage to defy the despots! Jack Frost blew his icy breath o'er this neck of the woods last week, and presto, the change! The sportive little murcury bulb in the thermometer chased itself way below the zero mark; window panes took upon themselves intricate traceries as delicate as tho' woven by a fairy's wand. Jack Frost pinched the- noses and nipped the ears' of pedestrians until they were fiery red; one's breath streamed upon the icy air like filmy banners of chiffon and the snow crunched noisily beneath one's feet. Travelers scurried along like frightened rabbits seek- ing shelter. Even the horses felt the effect of the ozone in the atmosphere and cantered along at a lively gait their hoofs ringing out sharp and clear in the frosty air. Hoary old winter has caught the world in his icy grasp at last. He spreads his white mantle o'er hill and dale, o'er highways and by-ways and makes a thing of beauty of a bleak, barren, dreary old landscape. He locks the swift flowing streams and babbling brooks in his icy grasp and bids them hold their peace until the balmy air of spring loosens his hold. The joys of the yuletide follow in his wake and he fairly breathes good cheer and jollity from the beginning of his frosty reign until its end. I heard a strapping lumux whining about the cold the other day while he stuck as close to the radiator as a sick kitten to a hot brick; he complained in no unmeasured terms of this beastly climate and vowed 'twould be his last winter in the frozen 50 north. Fie! the sooner such mollycoddles migrate to a warmer clime, the better; they haven't enough red corpuscles in their veins to color their blood. They haven't as much backbone as a jelly fish. . The bone and sinew of the country comes from the middle west, where the bracing air acts as a spur to flagging ambition and makes the red blood that stimulates an active, wide-awake, thoroughly alive body and mind. The frost belt produces the gi- gantic brains thix:t invent the wonderful de- vices that are used for the benefit and pleasure of all mankind through countless ages; the men of massive intellect who con- tribute to the world's good in the realm of literature or statesmanship are invariably men who have been inured to the rigors of winter. Nothing of a creative nature comes from the tropical clime; the lethargy of the balmy atmosphere saps the inhabitants of their vitji'lity and they are utterly devoid of ambition. I saw a man the other day who ought to be given a free transportation instanter to an atmosphere thiit fairly sizzles; the molly- coddle wore ear muffs. Ye gods! think you the men of the past century or more cod- dled themselves like babes in swaddling cloths? Did Washington take time to heat a soap stone for his feet before he started across the Delaware? Did the "minute men," think you, wear chest protectors or 51 goloshes? Come, come, you white corpus- cled individuals, let Jack Frost nip you oc- casionally and set your blood to circulating. Take a run in the crisp air — it will bring the color to your cheeks, the snap to your eyes and put new life in your sluggish veins. 'Twere better than a quaff of new wine. $ j) $ The installment plan business is the worst curse of modern trade and I'd like to take every vender of household and sundry arti- cles who preys upon the susceptibilities of the housewife with his pay ten-cents-a-week plan, in jail. The proposition submitted by the oily tongued peddler hoodwinks the housewife into the belief that in the first place she is in dire need of the particular line of goods he carries, and in the next place she can't afford to miss the opportunity of purchasing the article or articles in question for ])ractically nothing. Twenty- five cents a week doesn't sound bad and before she knows it, she falls a- victim to the blandishments of the peddler. At first, while she revels in the newness of her pur- chase, she pays the weekly stipend cheer- fully, and hardly seems to miss it as the aforesaid vender of wares assured her, but after awhile when her purchase is getting 52 shabby thi'ough usage, the weekly amount is rather begrudgingly paid, and she com- mences to figure how fast a quarter a week counts up, after all, and how hard it is to spare it from her perhaps meagre weekly cdlowance. By the time the thing is paid for, it is often entirely worn out, and she fairly hates the sight of the collector, who never fails to make his frequent visits. Besides, she has paid almost twice what she could have gotten it for, had she paid cash. The installment man isn't investing his good money for nothing, by any mea-ns. In larger purchases, it's the same, only the rate of interest is correspondingly higher and the payments are so much harder to meet. It's far easier to deny one's self and make s&crifices in order to pay for a thing before it passes into one's possession than afterwards. Many a young wife is wearing a diamond engagement ring that is not paid for, on account of the accursed installment plan business, and thousands of young men are commencing domestic life with any number of unpaid bills hanging over them, aye, even the clothes on their backs may not be paid for. No young couple ought to begin life without the firm resolve to pay cash for everything they have, or go without. This business of running in debt is a twin evil to the installment plan curse, and many a wreck morally, mentally and physically has been caused by it. There is no question that 53 a person making purchases on credit' will buy far more freely than if he pays cash. That's the reason all business houses en- courage a credit business; it swells their receipts, but the poor purchaser finds to his sorrow that his bill is away beyond his expectation at the end of the month, and in making an inventory of his purchases, finds that he could very nicely have done without fifty per cent of them. If all business was transacted through cash business alone, no such thing as bank- ruptcy would be known, business would be on a solid basis, there would be no worry over unpaid bills and, while the family might be compelled to go without a few lux- uries, at least the necessities could be pa-id for and the head of the house would have less of a burden to carry. Neither would there be such a thing as dead beats who ex- tort a living, aye, and a luxurious living, at the expense of duped creditors. The cash system is far and away the best. $ $ Eleanor Phipps Stewart, a self-confessed, self-despised and hopeless spinster of 35, in a recent magazine article makes a confession in a heart to heart talk with her readers in which she bemoans the cruelty of fate in denying her the life companionship of a man. "Marriage," quoths Eleanor, "is indis- pensable to a woman; a single woman, with- 54 out a man at her side is nothing — without his presence to escort her and give the stamp of approval there can be no theaters, no dinners, not even a meal after 6 o'clock. She can see nothing, enjoy nothing. The most necessary article in the world to the comfort and poise of the feminine mind is man." All married women according to envious Eleanor are plump and round and pretty and their years rest lightly upon them. They are free from care and worry and their lives are one long sweet song, and poor Eleanor regrets immeasurably that it is too late for her to stick her head into the matrimonial noose and join the happy throng. Eleanor tells the truth — in part; of a truth a happy marriage is preferable to a single life and granted that all men are kind and consider- ate a woman were the veriest fool to plod her way alone, but Eleanor, dear, a pity 'tis, 'tis true, but 'tis true, 'tis pity that men are not all kind and considerate and the picture of connubial bliss which the writer has depicted so glowingly is as oft' a carica- ture as the truth. Dry your lachrymal glands Eleanor, and cheer up, married women shed as many tears over their mar- ital woes as old maids over their loneliness. You never married a man, Eleanor, clothed with all the ideals your foolish woman's fancy could conjecture only to find yourself sadly disillusioned; you never experienced that sickening anguish of the soul that comes to a woman when she learns too late 55 that her ideal is made of the rankest clay. You never found yourself bound for life by indissoluble ties to a man who, viewed in the garish light of wedded life was divested of every trait wnereby you might hang a shred of respect for him. You never had to scrimp and economize on the mere pittance a penurious man saw fit to dole out to you. You never married a man and brought chil- dren into the world for him through unutter- able physical anguish and then when your good looks and youth were gone have him discover an "affinity," younger and better looking than you and throw you aside in your old age like a withered orange. Of a truth, Eleanor, you have missed a lot. But let's see, Eleanor, maybe there is hope yet. Thirty-five — that's not such a great age now-a-days when temperament, not years mark our time of life. Why 'twas only yesterday I was exchanging confidences with a charming bachelor woman who 'fessed up to 37 and who has suitors galore in her train; she can have her pick of c-ny number of fine chances and wins far more admira- tion than her young sisters in their 'teens. Men are growing to demand good, sound common sense rather than beauty in their wives and maybe, Elei^nor, even though you have lost a great share of your beauty, your brains will have a part in winning a Prince Charming. At ii:nj rate, Eleanor, don't be goose enough to repeat your assertion that marri- age is indispensable to a woman's success 56 in life. Women like Kate Field, Florence Nightingale, Frances Willard and Clara Bar- ton might laugh at you. And as for needing a male companion for theaters or dinner parties — why verily, Eleanor, you must be a product of a generation long since dead and gone. The bachelor woman is restricted by no rules or regulations; she can rottm about at her own sweet will as freely as her brother. She has her own establishment and entertains the same as her married sis- ter — in fact she has the same identical priv- ileges and is far from being the weepy in- dividual the writer of the spinster's con- fession would have us believe. However, Eleanor, I don't mean to disparage matri- mony — it's the only way the Lord intended men and women should live, but bear this unction to your soul, self-confessed, self- despised spinster, that its pathway is strewn with thorns as well as roses and if you have missed the fragrance of its roses so also have you missed the anguish of its thorns. ^ The brass-throated bell in yon clock tower is pealing forth the hour; yet in seemingly no time will it record the passing of another; the tongue of time will wag long after you and I are swept into the sea of eternity. Long after we slip the leash of our petty du- ties on this mundane sphere and get us 57 hence where time is of no consequence, will the faithful recorders register the passing hours. There will be seed time and harvest, and we will wot not of either; there will be births and deaths and marriages, hopes and joys, suffering and sorrow for others of whom we know not or even dreamed, long after our eyes have been closed and our voices hushed by the deep-throated arch- ives of time. Happy-hearted youngsters, whose parents have not yet seen the light of day will be playing marbles in the street, just as youngsters are doing now, the sweet girl graduate wi.l have the same high hopes as her sister today; circuses will pitch their tents and tinseled equestrians will amuse the public, just the same; glittering pageants will parade before gaping throngs; the day of independence will be celebrated with the same vim that characterizes the nation's anniversary today; the leaves will turn to flaming reds and yellows, football heroes will be striving to gain their goals then as now; the yuletide, with its tidings of peace and good will, with its spirit of gift-giving and kindness to our fellowmen, will slip around then as now. Human nature is unalterable; the things we do today are the things that our ancest- ors, since time began have done and that human beings long after the present gener- ation has passed away will be doing; the same thoughts and ambitions that throbbed through their beings hold sway in ours; we are born imitators and there is nothing ab- 58 solutely new under the sun. We might, to- be-sure, startle some of our bewhiskered, long-haired, antidiluvian ancestors with some of our innovations, and mayhap the generations to come might prove an eye- opener to us centuries hence, but nevertlie- less, human nature remains unchanged. We are no worse and no better than those who have gone before, and neither will the ones to come be any worse or any better than we; we are not one whit more sensible than they when it comes to the matter of dress, a-nd our prevailing styles are just as grotesque as those that prevailed at any ancestral age, neither will our successors display any more discretion than we. We are coming to a woman's age, but our ances- tors, too, knew an ags when women pre- vailed; when women become Amazons men are bound to become weaklings — so they learned and so will we — history repeats it- self. Time shoves us off the stage of life, but those who come after will a-quit them- selves no better than we, we can rest assured. Yet again is the brass-throated bell clanging out the hour — time, thou art the leveler of ranks, a- creator of joys, a healer of sorrows, an avenger of wrongs, a recorder of good and evil, and e'en the millions of the great cannot buy one second from thy vast storehouse. THE END. DEC 87 1909 One copy del. to Cat. Div. LIBRARY OF CONGRESS llllllllllllllllllllliliilili 020 994 49;! 1