W 
 
Class. 
 Book 
 
 
 CiQEXRIGKX DEPOSIT. 
 
BITS OF LIFE 
 
BITS OF LIFE 
 
 ANONYMOUS 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 BRENT ANO'S 
 
 MCMXX 
 

 COPYRIGHT, I92O, BY 
 BRENTANO'S 
 
 DEC 18 I92D 
 ©CI.A604605 
 
TO MY 
 DREAM-WIFE 
 
FOREWORD 
 
 T 
 
 HESE "Bits" are published in the hope 
 that they will help some one in an understand- 
 ing of Life. 
 
 I have frequently been told by my friends 
 that I "analyze too much"; but I am sure it 
 has always been a benefit to me. It has en- 
 abled me to navigate some rocky coasts, and 
 it has brought me to some lovely gardens. 
 
 When we are unhappy there is nearly 
 always something wrong with ourselves, al- 
 though it is difficult to be sufficiently honest 
 to realize it. As we have the power to correct 
 anything within us, we should all be optimists. 
 
 If you have any problems, which anything 
 in this volume can help solve, I shall be repaid 
 for my work. It is quite different — in mat- 
 ter and style — from anything I have writ- 
 ten before. If it has been helpful, send me, 
 through the publishers, a word of encourage- 
 ment. 
 
 [v] 
 
THAT WHICH I LOVE 
 
 i 
 
 LOVE the sunrise and the long shadows of 
 the early morning in the woods. I love the 
 perfume of the fields while they are still wet 
 with dew, and the perfume of honeysuckle 
 and new mown hay at night. I love the per- 
 fume of a woman's hair. 
 
 I love flaming sunsets and the branching of 
 trees — the thick foliage of the linden and 
 the gauntness of the cypress. 
 
 I love people who think, and I like to won- 
 der with them as to the reason for Us, and 
 as to the meaning of Life. 
 
 I love courage. I love the look of quiet 
 resolution in soldiers' eyes, and the smiles 
 on the faces of the wounded. 
 
 I love to be alone and think in deep forests 
 that are dim, on the seashore at moonlight, 
 and on the mountain tops overlooking broad 
 valleys. 
 
 I love the tender green things that push 
 through the earth in the Spring. I love to 
 see flowers, and trees, and puppies and people 
 Grow. 
 
 I like music that brings me close to God 
 and music that is sensuous. I love notes of 
 joyousness from birds and children. 
 
 [i] 
 
I love the quiet of old Cathedrals, the move- 
 ments of dancers and the beehives of cities. 
 
 I love sound — the patter of rain, the rus- 
 tling of the wind, the ringing of bells, and the 
 whistle of the locomotive. 
 
 I love the scratching of a knife upon glass, 
 and the glimmer of dead fish on the sands. I 
 love the softness of moss. 
 
 I love to help people find things in life to 
 love, and I love their appreciation of me 
 when I have helped them. I love people who 
 want to be helped. 
 
 I love walled gardens and I love twilight. 
 I love desert sands and I love the mystery 
 of rivers on dark nights. 
 
 I love gray arched bridges and women's 
 slender ankles. I love hunger and thirst. 
 
 I love the line and grace of the human 
 body and fine laces and jewels. I love lithe- 
 ness. I love violets, the tender expression in 
 woman's eyes, and red roses and red lips. 
 
 I love people who can Feel. I love storms. 
 I love blood that turns to flame. 
 
 I love people who have faith in God, faith 
 in love, and faith in faith. 
 
 I love green fields, the red and gold of 
 autumn foliage, the blue sky, and a woman's 
 white bosom. 
 
 [2] 
 
I love to love and I love to be loved. I 
 love to desire and I love to be desired. I love 
 dreams and people who dare to trust their 
 dreams. 
 
 I love to help people do and be their best. 
 
 I love to touch that which I love, and I love 
 to be touched by that which I love. 
 
 I love snow. I love consuming fire. 
 
 I will love dying if it is because I love and 
 because I am loved. 
 
 [3] 
 
THAT WHICH I HATE 
 
 i 
 
 HATE satisfied stupidity and people who 
 grouch. I hate laziness — particularly the 
 mental variety — and self-satisfaction. 
 
 I hate suspiciousness and pimples and defec- 
 tive spark plugs. I hate affectations and 
 wavering and cowardice. I hate mud. 
 
 I hate avoidable fat and insipid people, col- 
 orless flowers, and tasteless vegetables. I par- 
 ticularly hate turnips. 
 
 I hate people who continually hurt other 
 people in obeying the other nine command- 
 ments. I hate snobbishness and second-hand 
 opinions. 
 
 I hate swamps, and I hate to hear the name 
 of love given to the love of sensation. I hate 
 spiders — particularly human ones. 
 
 I hate women who have become hardened, 
 and women who have no spiritual understand- 
 ing. I hate people who have no ideals, and I 
 particularly hate those who have no senti- 
 ment. I hate sentiment that is just an art and 
 that does not come from the heart. I hate 
 thick cups and saucers. 
 
 I hate those who cannot see the beautiful, 
 and those who have no desire to improve them- 
 selves. 
 
 [4] 
 
I hate people who talk for effect, and people 
 who want to seem things rather than to be 
 them. 
 
 I hate sore eyes, litter, and fastidiousness 
 to the point of loss of virility. 
 
 I hate to be jostled or pushed, and I hate 
 sarcasm meant to sting an open wound. I 
 fear sensuousness and I hate sensuality. I 
 particularly hate vulgarity, disloyalty and hy- 
 pocrisy. 
 
 I hate dishonesty, especially the kind that 
 takes from those that have less. I hate in- 
 justice, and especially that in people which 
 can only see that a thing is right if it is for 
 their own interests. 
 
 I hate slush, and I hate rose veneer with 
 rotten wood underneath. 
 
 I hate women who have no understanding, 
 and I hate men who can't distinguish between 
 good and bad women. I hate unaffectionate 
 women, and women who do not like babies. 
 
 I hate people who hate to be alone, and I 
 hate people who have no reverence. 
 
 And now, I must admit that I never really 
 hate people, but I do hate some qualities that 
 some people have. 
 
 [5] 
 
IDEALS 
 
 O TREETS paved with cobble stones. Grass 
 growing here and there. Rows of brick 
 houses. Street cars drawn by horses. A girl 
 of sixteen. Sunlight. 
 
 She was good to look at and was joyous. 
 He carried her books to school. To him she 
 was a finished picture. He saw Soul, Heart 
 and Affection. 
 
 Three years passed. More things came 
 into her life. Also more men. And although 
 she was still a Canvas good to look upon, he 
 no longer saw the same things there. 
 
 He had painted on the Canvas in his dreams 
 and he had learned to rub away. 
 
 [6] 
 
THE DEMI-VIERGE 
 
 O HE was pretty and chic. She adored ad- 
 miration. She observed sentiment although 
 she never felt it. 
 
 She liked to Feel when it was safe to Feel. 
 
 She was curious, but she took no risks. She 
 lingered on bridges, but never crossed them. 
 She was Heady in the alcoves of a ball-room 
 — or in a shaded lane — or at moonlight on 
 the sands by the sea. 
 
 She beckoned, but was afraid to leave the 
 door open. She liked to possess Things. 
 
 He thought she was Perfect when he first 
 saw her. 
 
 Then he understood. 
 
 It nearly broke her small heart, when he 
 left her for another. 
 
 Will there ever be a harvest for her? 
 
 It does not matter: it will mildew and 
 spoil, or be consumed by fire. 
 
 [7] 
 
SAINTS AND SIN 
 
 O HE did not give her husband a great physi- 
 cal love; but she was domestic and never 
 thought of another man. She had never had 
 an impure thought. 
 
 He did not seem to appreciate her domes- 
 ticity. He often preached worldliness. 
 
 She esteemed him and depended on him to 
 lead her. Her Ideals were lowered. For a 
 long time she ran on a wrong track, but with- 
 out an accident. 
 
 She met a Man who seemed "nice and fine," 
 and as her husband approved, she saw the 
 Man frequently. 
 
 She did not know she was playing with fire. 
 Did she not Love her husband? and was she 
 not a "woman of character" — "incapable of 
 doing wrong?" 
 
 I saw her and the Man driving in the park 
 one evening. 
 
 She looked happy in a strong mental em- 
 brace. 
 
 She did not realize what was happening to 
 her 
 
 But, the Man knew he had won. 
 
 [8] 
 
THINGS AND FRIENDS 
 
 ^ALACE on Fifth Avenue. It had towers 
 — so it was surely a palace. It cost four mil- 
 lion dollars, which was a lot of money — even 
 for Fifth Avenue. 
 
 Many men had spent a year or two of their 
 lives working to build it for Him. Painters 
 in Italy and Flanders had worked centuries 
 ago on pictures to decorate it. 
 
 People came from Des Moines to look at its 
 treasures. He was very proud of it. 
 
 He was lonely. He had many acquaint- 
 ances, but few friends. He wanted many 
 friends. 
 
 He did not understand. He was rich and 
 wanted to be Liked. 
 
 He liked Things. People did not like Him. 
 They liked his Things. 
 
 [9] 
 
SIMPLICITY 
 
 O E was a man of the world, and She was 
 a sheltered lass. He took her hand and kissed 
 it. and she asked him if it was right for him 
 to do so. He asked her to take dinner with 
 him. and she finally said she would. 
 
 He took her to a hotel restaurant. She 
 seemed somewhat embarrassed as she had 
 never been in a hotel before. 
 
 She had never taken wine. Her mother 
 didn't approve of dancing. 
 
 "What is there left to do?*' — he asked, 
 when she was shocked at his attempted kiss. 
 "I'm afraid you are bored with me. and 
 don't like to talk to me." 
 
 "Xo indeed! but what can we talk about?" 
 "I never had any trouble with other men." 
 "You build a stone wall about yourself." 
 "To climb over it is not the kind of work 
 you are fitted for." — she said. 
 
 [10] 
 
WHEN THE LIGHT GOES OUT 
 
 JjEFORE becoming an American Worker 
 in Paris, she had never had a glass of Cham- 
 pagne; and I marvelled at her perfect poise 
 while she consumed nearly a bottle. She 
 seemed more keen and interested and amus- 
 ing, and I was reluctant to take her home 
 so early when she asked me to do so. 
 
 "Won't you put me to bed?" — she asked 
 blandly when we arrived at her hotel. Then 
 I knew that "something was wrong"; but ten- 
 derly and carefully — even affectionately, I 
 did what she asked. 
 
 "I am lonely and homesick to-night," — she 
 said, "and I don't want you to leave me." 
 
 I was more used to Champagne than she. 
 I remembered that mother had told me to be 
 always a gentleman. I remembered something 
 about taking a penny off a dead man's eye. I 
 knew her father. I knew she was a good girl. 
 
 I saw her the next day. "Isn't it funny?" 
 — she said, — "I don't remember anything 
 that happened last night after the fish ; but I 
 got into bed all right, and this morning I found 
 I had hung my clothes carefully in the closet." 
 
 "You must be a very orderly person," said I. 
 
 [ii] 
 
HARVEST 
 
 O HE married him because he was courteous. 
 Besides, he gave her slight Thrills, which no 
 one else had done before. His ambition also 
 appealed to her. 
 
 She did not particularly want babies; they 
 were a nuisance and would spoil her figure. 
 
 She was a slow blooming flower, and the 
 Thrills increased as the years went by. 
 
 They were an up-to-date couple and drank 
 stimulating drinks, danced stimulating dances, 
 read stimulating books, and saw stimulating 
 shows. 
 
 One night she met a man who looked at her 
 with adoring eyes, and danced with her in an 
 adoring fashion, so that a great sensuousness 
 came over her. 
 
 He reminded her somewhat of a youthful 
 ideal. He was very courteous. Drugged as 
 she was, she thought him perfect. 
 
 She had got to love sensuousness and an- 
 other Man was the most insiduous of all sen- 
 suousness. 
 
 He was an altogether New Sensation. He 
 was Forbidden Fruit. 
 
 She took the drug in increasing doses. The 
 husband had developed a flower for another 
 man to pluck. 
 
 [12] 
 
THEY CALL IT A YELLOW STREAK 
 
 X OPULAR. Everyone said he was a nice 
 boy. He had a happy smiling face and a sense 
 of humor. He was fond of his father and 
 mother, who made his life as easy as theirs had 
 been. He was not dissipated and they were 
 proud of him. Boy and parents wondered 
 why people did things that were very wrong. 
 Life was mostly a bed of flowers. He was not 
 particularly lazy and worked at times because 
 he felt like it. 
 
 A misfortune happened. 
 
 He had to work when he did not feel like it. 
 Life was hard. A chance for easy money came 
 along. It seemed safe. 
 
 He has lost his sense of humor. 
 He is not popular. 
 
 To weather adversity demands character 
 formed by the habit of resistance. 
 
 [13] 
 
PERFECT BUT PREMATURE 
 
 O HE had big brown eyes that were both tem- 
 peramental and intelligent. She had thorough- 
 bred nostrils which dilated when she felt ; and 
 lips that were scarlet. Many men had Ex- 
 pressed Admiration for her. She had never 
 loved. 
 
 He loved her. He was accustomed to Tak- 
 ing what he wanted. He expressed no ad- 
 miration. He crushed her to him, and kissed 
 the big brown eyes and the scarlet lips. 
 
 She flew into a flaming rage and sent him 
 away, But — 
 
 She sent for him. 
 
 She demanded an apology. 
 
 He tenderly kissed the big brown eyes and 
 scarlet lips. 
 
 She did not send him away. 
 
 [14] 
 
TOWN SAINTS 
 
 O HE was quite a perfect woman — full of 
 fine instincts and fine ideals. She adored her 
 husband even after he had grossly neglected 
 her. She loved her child even more. 
 
 Perhaps she still loves her husband (with- 
 out knowing it). She certainly would not 
 acknowledge it even to herself, because he 
 gave her nothing — except abuse. 
 
 The husband was a town-saint and home- 
 devil. Everyone admired and respected him: 
 he was always courteous, presented a digni- 
 fied appearance, and seemed very domestic. 
 
 She did not make as good an impression: 
 there is a limit to the endurance of pain and 
 there must be occasional respite from the 
 torture of a heart that is breaking. She did 
 many unconventional things. 
 
 Women, who had all they wanted, criti- 
 cized her. 
 
 She was better than any of them. 
 
 I know it. 
 
 I was her husband. 
 
 [iSl 
 
SEX 
 
 Wi 
 
 E were walking in the same direction 
 along the boulevard. As I passed her she 
 looked at me roguishly. She was bundled up 
 in handsome brown furs, with eyes to match, 
 — so I hastened not. 
 
 I suggested we go to some quiet place for 
 tea. She found the place. 
 
 Her lover had lost all his money on the 
 bourse; and he had notified her that she 
 would have to go — with his other luxuries. 
 
 I told her she was pretty. 
 
 She told me I looked kind. She had a com- 
 fortable apartment which she did not want 
 to lose. 
 
 "But how do you know you would love 
 me?" I suggested — expectantly. 
 
 "You are a man," — she said, "and you 
 look as though you would be kind." 
 
 "I am kind," — I answered. "But how do 
 you know I would love you?" — I asked. 
 
 "You said you thought I was pretty," — 
 she answered. Then conclusively: "You are 
 a man and I am a woman." 
 
 [16] 
 
LUCKY 
 
 OTOCKY, dark eyed, curly-haired Italian 
 boys. Full of humor. Full of Feeling. Un- 
 thinking minds — cleaning shoes. 
 
 Years passed by. One of them an unthink- 
 ing mind — cleaning shoes. 
 
 The other an unthinking mind — great, 
 rich, feted. 
 
 Imagination ? Ambition ? Persistence ? 
 
 No! 
 
 Talent. 
 
 [17] 
 
CONTRAST 
 
 D 
 
 RESSING room at the Theatre. Grease- 
 pot. Rouge. Lucile gown. Applause. Fame. 
 Riches. Flowers. Billets-doux. 
 
 Everyone said: Great future! 
 
 Never happy. Always wanting — some- 
 thing else. 
 
 Hospital Ward. Trained nurse. Work by 
 day. Work by night. Gloom. Sickness. 
 Suffering. Sorrow. 
 
 Everyone said: No future! 
 
 Always happy. Always giving. 
 
 [18] 
 
THRILLS 
 
 S OMEONE told him that thrills did not last 
 long after marriage. He thought he was wiser 
 than any man who had ever lived, because 
 he believed it. He knew that the most stu- 
 pid people in the world were those who were 
 not married and who lived together. 
 
 He set about finding a way of preserving 
 thrills and at the same time of making his 
 lady-love respectable in the eyes of the world. 
 
 He had a large wedding which was an- 
 nounced in large type in all the newspapers. 
 
 Thinking that he was wiser than any man 
 who had ever lived, he rented an apartment 
 for the lady about a mile from his own. 
 
 She bought her own potatoes and he sent 
 her flowers. 
 
 Frequently he stopped for her and took her 
 to the theatre and opera, and sometimes they 
 would have quiet little dinners together. She 
 never knew him as well as his valet knew him ; 
 and he never saw her except by appointment 
 — when she was at her best. 
 
 After many years he will sometimes rise 
 early in the morning and walk the mile to 
 have breakfast with her. 
 
 It has been rumored among gossiping neigh- 
 
 [19] 
 
bors that he has been known to spend the 
 night at her home. 
 
 This is the best plan for those who are sat- 
 isfied with thrills. 
 
 [20] 
 
CAPITAL AND RESERVE 
 
 Jn[E loved her. She was fine and reserved 
 and modest and idealistic. 
 
 She loved him. He was fine and reserved 
 and strong. 
 
 They were happy by each other's side — 
 holding hands. She knew nothing of love ex- 
 cepting that she was happy when she was with 
 him. He knew as much as the average male. 
 
 She wanted to be everything that is won- 
 derful to him. He wanted her to love him 
 always. 
 
 They were married with sufficient Capital 
 and Reserve to live on happily. 
 
 They were not satisfied in spending the in- 
 terest and started spending the Reserve. 
 
 Now. — even the Capital is gone. 
 
 [21] 
 
THE FLUTTERER 
 
 "T 
 
 1 AM so sorry to be late. I have just left 
 my cousins. They are fascinating girls, and 
 we had such an interesting time. I am so 
 glad to see you! Do you still love me? You 
 know I miss you dreadfully. Helen is such a 
 dear! What makes you so quiet? Are you 
 cross at my being late? I am so glad to see 
 you. It is nice just to be with you. Good- 
 by. I promised mother to be home in time 
 for tea to meet some friends of hers. Please 
 ring me up soon and don't forget me." 
 
 She left him. He was sad at heart because 
 he could not so obviously express that which 
 needed no words. 
 
 [22] 
 
WANING IDEALS 
 
 i 
 
 NNOCENT. Sentimental. Idealistic. Even 
 spiritual. She was twenty and knew nothing 
 of passion. 
 
 He was married and fell in love with her 
 in the best way in the world. He sent her 
 lilies. She missed him when he was away. 
 Finally her soul was given to him in a kiss. 
 She felt passion but did not know its name. 
 
 She was unhappy and sent him away. 
 
 At twenty-two she accepted something less 
 from one who had even less right to give. 
 
 The first had prepared The Way. 
 
 [23] 
 
WHAT SHE WANTED 
 
 O HE was not just his Ideal, but she was 
 sympathetic and honest — qualities He had 
 learned to value. 
 
 He was intense, idealistic, ambitious, and 
 interested in everything and everybody. 
 
 He exalted her. She married him. They 
 were happy. 
 
 She said he was giving her everything she 
 wanted — from love to diamonds. 
 
 She met another man who seemed to her 
 even more considerate and gentle than her 
 husband. He bowled her over as easily as he 
 would nine-pins. 
 
 "But," — said the husband, "how can this 
 be? This man has no sentiment; he is effemi- 
 nate ; he has no ideals ; he has very little men- 
 tal equipment ; he has no ambitions ; he is not 
 competent to take care of anybody; he would 
 have been a bank clerk or a professional 
 dancer if he had not inherited a little money; 
 he is without courage ; and his only interest in 
 life is in having a 'good time.' He stands for 
 nothing." 
 
 "You may think as you like," — answered 
 the wife, "but I think he is a 'Dear'." 
 
 "You can have him," — said the husband. 
 
 [24] 
 
"My mistake was in feeding you on burgundy 
 and champagne. I should have given you 
 cambric tea." 
 
 [25] 
 
JEALOUSY 
 
 H 
 
 ANDSOME. Serene. Gowned with 
 meaning. Eyes of feeling. Full sensitive 
 mouth. A lady. Serene. Eyes that had 
 lighted with joy. Mouth that had known suf- 
 fering — but serene. 
 
 Pretty. Serene. Gowned with a meaning- 
 less mass of dainty fluff. Complacent Eyes. 
 A lady. Serene. Resentful of feeling — that 
 she had not known. 
 
 How she hated the other woman! 
 
 [26] 
 
ADMIRATION 
 
 OHE was young and beautiful, and she had 
 the presence of a princess. She was quite 
 near-sighted which gave her an intent-look 
 when she was talking to you. 
 
 Perhaps I am near-sighted because I was 
 also very intent. 
 
 She loved another and he provided for her 
 in the usual Paris way. 
 
 I saw her often and wondered at her bril- 
 liancy, her appreciation of beauty and her 
 capability of feeling. 
 
 I sent her flowers daily; and I took her out 
 for dinner, and to the opera. 
 
 I would have provided for her in a more 
 lavish way. 
 
 We were good chums. 
 
 I made love to her reverently and violently. 
 
 We were still good chums. 
 
 She acted wisely. 
 
 He loved her. 
 
 [27 J 
 
FEAR 
 
 s 
 
 HE was English, — very young and very 
 reserved. She was very beautiful — dark and 
 slender. She could not help knowing it, but 
 she took it as a matter of course. 
 
 I told her that she was full of tempera- 
 ment. She replied that everyone had told her 
 that, but that everyone was wrong. She said 
 that no man had ever thrilled her. 
 
 She had been nagged by a great many. A 
 man ten years older than she had nagged her 
 into marrying him. When I met her she had 
 been married four weeks, and her husband 
 had gone to the Front to join his regiment. 
 
 We had some jolly times together. When 
 I became personal, she talked of cats and 
 lampshades. 
 
 I determined she was a coward, and I left 
 her remembering that time makes heroes of 
 some of us. 
 
 When I met her a year later, she had been 
 living with her husband for over six months, 
 — and he had just been sent to Egypt. 
 
 When I left her a month later, I told her 
 I thought she was full of temperament, 
 
 [28] 
 
THE WRONG DIRECTION 
 
 D 
 
 URING many years, He had many loves. 
 He did not understand his inconsistency and 
 deplored it. He was sentimental, idealistic 
 and spiritual, even though he was intense. 
 
 In each case, They had not reserved any- 
 thing of soul or body. Love was soon gone, 
 and he was looking for something finer than 
 their love had become. 
 
 He had asked for everything and it had 
 been given him. 
 
 The best woman in love will become what 
 the Man wants her to be. 
 
 [29] 
 
HARBORS AND ROUGH SEAS 
 
 H 
 
 E was taught good manners. He was 
 sent to a school with good boys. He was 
 allowed to read good books. 
 
 He was sheltered. He was told to grow up 
 to be a fine man. 
 
 He was an athlete. He had a happy smile. 
 He had learned more than most boys, and 
 graduated with honors. 
 
 He was thrown into life among the differ- 
 ent kinds of people who make it. He had 
 learned nothing about them. He had not 
 learned to accept or reject — to examine — 
 to yield or resist. 
 
 He floundered. What became of him was 
 important to him and his family. 
 
 It was a matter of luck. 
 
 [30] 
 
RIGHT CONDITIONS 
 
 H 
 
 E left the dinner party at ten o'clock, de- 
 termined to go home; but taxi-cabs were 
 scarce in Paris directly after the Armistice, 
 and he waited on the corner for a long time. 
 He and a strange woman reached the cab at 
 the same moment. He suggested taking her 
 where she wanted to go, and then using it 
 for himself, and she acquiesced. 
 
 She had been a widow for two years. 
 
 It was a beautiful moonlight night as they 
 drove out the Champs Ely see. He forgot his 
 determination to go home. So did she. They 
 drove through the Bois until midnight. 
 
 They tried to find a restaurant, but they 
 were all closed. Finally, a "sympathique" 
 concierge ushered them into a brilliantly 
 lighted but deserted salon, where they could 
 have a bottle of wine and smoke. 
 
 The light hurt their eyes. 
 
 [31] 
 
FREAKS 
 
 OHE was of average weight, height, and 
 had a well proportioned figure. She had fine 
 features, brown eyes and hair, a good com- 
 plexion and a nice smile. 
 
 She was neither athletic nor delicate and 
 she had no fads. She laughed at humor and 
 was sad with those in distress. She had a good 
 mind and could feel keenly. She was neither 
 high-brow, nor stupid — neither "cute," nor 
 old-maidenish. She was thoughtful and unself- 
 ish and cheerful. 
 
 She was joyous in the Spring, happy in the 
 summer, buoyant in the fall, and exhilarated 
 in the winter. 
 
 She was quite unique because she was not 
 "different." 
 
 [32] 
 
DESIRE 
 
 H 
 
 E was quite Learned for a man of twenty- 
 five. He had also been taught to Think clearly. 
 In his own heart he knew that he was more 
 able than others of his age. 
 
 His father had planned his Training with 
 care, and he wondered why others were pass- 
 ing him in the race of life. He wondered why 
 his Intellect had not produced results. 
 
 He married a girl of average intelligence. 
 She had Ambition. 
 
 He is very successful. 
 
 Intellect and Learning were merely the 
 tools. 
 
 Desire was the Driving-force. 
 
 [33] 
 
TECHNICAL 
 
 OHE loved him with her heart and soul. 
 Even before she loved him with her body — 
 she gave herself to him: because she Loved 
 him, and wanted to make him happy. 
 
 We understanu why other men would not 
 want her. 
 
 She loved him with her body. She felt 
 everything with him. She would not give her 
 body. She was technically a virgin. She was 
 altogether rotten. 
 
 We do not understand why men would 
 want her. 
 
 [34] 
 
BUNKIES 
 
 M 
 
 OST people thought I was a success as 
 an enlisted man. Perhaps I was. I don't 
 know. I did not like some of my associates. 
 
 One had been a sailor all his life. He had 
 travelled all over the worla^ and boasted of 
 his conquests among the fair sex of every na- 
 tion. He had lived in China for some years 
 — where, for fifteen dollars a month, he had 
 obtained lodging, food and the twelve-year-old 
 daughter of the family. I have been in many 
 places, but his language was foul beyond any- 
 thing that I had ever heard. 
 
 Another had been a Methodist clergyman. 
 He spent his time singing and playing an ac- 
 cordion. His repertoire consisted of: "Nearer 
 My God to Thee," "My Bonnie Lies Over the 
 Ocean," and "Three Cheers for the Red, 
 White and Blue." We could never tell which 
 song was coming next. He was versatile and 
 varied the order. 
 
 [35] 
 
NEGATIVES 
 
 H 
 
 IS father brought him up to lead a life 
 of leisure. He wandered through vice, — wan- 
 dered around the world, — improved his mind, 
 — and wandered into old age; which he found 
 bleak and desolate, excepting for a son. 
 
 The Son studied law but did not practice; 
 he became a banker, but did not work; he 
 went into politics, but did not succeed. 
 
 He consulted the accumulated wisdom of 
 his father's sixty years, and the father said: 
 
 I suppose you are like me. We have never 
 known the Great God "Must." 
 
 [36] 
 
GRAVITY 
 
 i 
 
 N his heart he had confidence that he was 
 going to make a success of his work. Some- 
 thing always seemed to be holding him back. 
 
 He was fond of people and therefore had 
 many friends, and heard many opinions on 
 many subjects, including the subject of his 
 work. 
 
 "I suppose it is because I listen too much 
 to opinion," — he said, but something still 
 seemed to be holding him back. 
 
 "I gloat too much over sensuous beauty and 
 see too much of women," — but something 
 still seemed to be holding him back. 
 
 I am interested in too many things and 
 should give up my sports," — but something 
 still seemed to be holding him back. 
 
 "I should give up alcohol and tobacco," — 
 but his progress did not satisfy him. 
 
 When he achieved worldly success there was 
 still something "holding him back." 
 
 Ambition itself does not bring complete 
 liberation. It merely enables us to cast off 
 weights that make it impossible to climb. 
 
 If it were not for the deterrents we would 
 float to the Heights. 
 
 There would be nothing left for us to do. 
 
 [37] 
 
THE TEST 
 
 H 
 
 E tried to obtain his father's consent to 
 
 his marriage. 
 
 He told him how wonderful She was: 
 
 That she was pretty — father had assumed it; 
 
 That she was clever — father feared it ; 
 
 That she was cheerful — father was not; 
 
 That she was sympathetic — father was un- 
 moved; 
 
 Because father understood life and people. 
 But when he learned that all the girl's 
 
 thoughts had been as to how she could make 
 
 his son happy — father took her in his arms. 
 
 [38] 
 
DISHONESTY 
 
 H 
 
 E always paid his bills — sometime. 
 
 He always bought what he wanted, because 
 he always thought he could pay for it — some- 
 time. 
 
 He made a contribution to the Red Cross 
 which gave him much pleasure. 
 
 His tailor could not make a contribution 
 because he had no money, — although he 
 hoped the philanthropist would pay that 
 which he owed him — sometime. 
 
 People call the tailor mean, and the philan- 
 thropist honest, because he always pays his 
 bills — sometime. 
 
 [39] 
 
THE SAME CONCLUSION 
 
 H 
 
 ERBERT SPENCER scientifically dem- 
 onstrated that three things make for happi- 
 ness: 
 
 The enjoyment of all the bodily senses, 
 through the proper functioning of all the 
 organs. 
 
 The mental satisfaction of having done con- 
 structive work. 
 
 The ethical pleasure of having helped other 
 people. 
 
 A simple old lady (who had never even read 
 Spencer) had been happy through all her 
 years without even asking why. 
 
 She had felt: 
 
 The joy of living. 
 
 The joy of accomplishment. 
 
 The joy of helping others. 
 
 [40] 
 
LOVE'S IDEALIZATION 
 
 T 
 
 HEY were great chums. 
 
 He came to love her madly, — therefore he 
 idealized her. 
 
 She was only fond of him — therefore she 
 knew him as he was. He had faults as all men 
 have. 
 
 They were married. She developed temper- 
 amentally. 
 
 The corners got knocked off their love. 
 
 Another man came along — 
 
 He thrilled her, — therefore she idealized 
 him. 
 
 He was a Rotter, and her husband told her 
 so. 
 
 She did not see the Man for two years and 
 gradually came to realize that her husband 
 was right. 
 
 Then she saw the other Man again, and her 
 thrills returned. How could a nice woman be 
 thrilled by a rotter? — she asked herself. 
 
 So she thought her husband was wrong, par- 
 ticularly as the Man had always treated her 
 with (adoring) respect. 
 
 Her husband showed her proofs. She said 
 they must be fabricated. 
 
 [41] 
 
He proved that they were not. 
 She said that everyone had weaknesses and 
 that He needed her. 
 
 [42] 
 
IDLE EYES 
 
 H 
 
 E had a wife — a very nice and pretty 
 wife. He had no fault to find with her. Be- 
 sides, she was responsive. But somehow, from 
 time to time, he made various expeditions 
 among other women. However, he always 
 agreed afterwards, in consultation with him- 
 self, that none of them "could touch" his 
 chosen mate. 
 
 He often wondered why he made these ex- 
 ploring trips. At one time he said it was "love 
 of adventure," at another "love of change"; 
 and at another, "mental and physical stimu- 
 lation." 
 
 He agreed with himself, that with a wife like 
 his, it could not be hunger, because she was 
 not a ham sandwich, and he did not have to 
 search for dainties away from home. 
 
 Then he got interested in some work, and 
 his life was filled with wholesomeness. He 
 wondered why he had lost interest in woman 
 hunting. 
 
 [43] 
 
AMERICA 
 
 T. 
 
 HE "Aristocrats" and "Philosophers" of a 
 certain country said: 
 
 "Let's kill off the stupid and weak and make 
 a race of supermen out of the strong, who will 
 people and govern the earth." 
 
 So they made war and many of the strong 
 and the brave were killed, and the maimed 
 were left. 
 
 The so-called "chasers of the almighty dol- 
 lar" of another country said: 
 
 "Every man should work." 
 
 So they toiled until old age and piled up 
 fortune upon fortune, and gave it for Hos- 
 pitals, Libraries, and Laboratories, to help 
 the stupid and weak to become intelligent and 
 strong. 
 
 They had not even written books upon 
 "Philosophy." 
 
 [44] 
 
HAND-OUTS 
 
 o 
 
 N one of the coldest nights of the winter, 
 two old friends were sitting in front of the fire- 
 place at the deserted country club. They were 
 "drooling" about Life, as some people occa- 
 sionally do. 
 
 "He has had a hard time." 
 
 "Yes, he has been unlucky." 
 
 "I thought you did not believe in luck," — 
 
 "I don't really; I think we are mostly Mas- 
 ters of our Fate, We all have good luck and 
 bad luck — just as in the day's run after 
 the hounds, we have low fences and high 
 fences. 
 
 "But some fellows seem to have mostly high 
 fences." 
 
 "And some of them are Strong and Persist- 
 ent enough to get over them." 
 
 "Yes, if you have enough Desire, you gen- 
 erally find a way of getting over them or 
 around them." 
 
 "I don't believe we would have the Desire 
 without the Ability, do you?" 
 
 "Yes, I guess it's mostly the way you take 
 your luck." 
 
 "I'm sorry for those fellows who haven't 
 any Desire." 
 
 [45] 
 
"Well, I haven't much patience with those 
 who say they have the Desire, but who won't 
 make any sacrifices." 
 
 [46] 
 
EMOTIONAL SHALLOWS 
 
 OHE was terrified at the idea of falling 
 madly in love. She feels so deeply ! " 
 
 "Does she?" 
 
 "Oh, yes! She must! She would not even 
 let me talk about it. The idea completely up- 
 set her." 
 
 "Does she always shield herself against 
 emotion?" 
 
 "She feels so deeply!" 
 
 "How can she feel so deeply when she never 
 allows herself to feel?" 
 
 "She is afraid to feel." 
 
 "Then how can she feel so deeply?" 
 
 [47] 
 
FIRST LOVE 
 
 OHE was only fourteen, but she made him 
 realize that somehow she was different from 
 boys. He did not propose baseball to her; 
 neither did he try to knock her down. 
 
 His voice was a little different when he 
 spoke to her; and he would notice her hair 
 and eyes — whereas he never looked at the 
 other fellows. 
 
 When they tramped together through the 
 woods, he would help her up the steep hills — 
 although she didn't need his help. 
 
 He sent her a Valentine with a big red 
 heart on it. 
 
 He did not know why he sent this only to 
 her. 
 
 He didn't quite like it when the other fel- 
 lows said: "Oh. vouVe got a sweetheart." 
 
 [48] 
 
DRUGGED 
 
 uHE was a young married woman, and as in- 
 nocent as a young married woman could be. 
 Her friends had always been carefully selected 
 for her by her parents, and unconsciously she 
 always assumed that people whom she would 
 meet were decent and good. She looked with 
 horror on bad women, whether they were 
 found in high or low places. 
 
 Her husband, being an unconventional per- 
 son, took her into "Bohemia." She was told 
 that she had been very "provincial." 
 
 A home was not a sacred thing; marriage 
 was only a convenience; children were acci- 
 dents; and the inviolability of a woman's per- 
 son was a joke. Psychic attraction and new 
 sensations were better than shop-worn love 
 and esteem; weird noise was better than 
 music; and the "shimmy" took the place of 
 things we don't talk about. 
 
 A bird of prey with his intense eyes and 
 sensuous dancing drugged her. 
 
 Her husband says she has no character, — 
 and yet — 
 
 He had told her she could take half a grain 
 of opium. 
 
 She took a grain. 
 
 [49] 
 
THE GREAT SACRIFICE 
 
 H 
 
 E enlisted. There were two women whom 
 he knew loved him. When he was overseas he 
 often wondered which one loved him the more. 
 
 The Brunette had not wanted him to go. 
 She had urged him not to enlist, and had told 
 him that she could help him evade the draft. 
 He knew she adored him, and that she would 
 have found excuses for him in her own heart, 
 if he did as she asked. 
 
 The Blonde urged him to go. He knew 
 she would be disgusted if he did not. She had 
 told him she valued his honor more than her 
 love. 
 
 Events have proven that: 
 
 The Brunette loved him in an intense ani- 
 mal and selfish way. 
 
 The Blonde loved him mildly: She was not 
 sacrificing much. 
 
 There was Another who sent him away 
 cheerfully, although he was All to her. He 
 had not known she cared. He had often won- 
 dered who had sent the steamer letter con- 
 taining only: "God Bless you." 
 
 [So] 
 
IN A CLUB SMOKER 
 
 F. 
 
 AT red face. Diamond scarf pin. Fancy 
 shoes. White socks. Successful. Happy. Did 
 everything he wanted. Had everything he 
 wanted. Liked life. Liked drinks. Liked 
 women. Liked baseball. Liked racing. 
 
 He did not know why he liked these things, 
 but he liked them. 
 
 Sunburnt face. Clothes too big. Large 
 black kid shoes. White socks. Successful. 
 Happy. Did everything he wanted. Had 
 everything he wanted. Liked life. Liked the 
 country. Liked children. Liked stock. Liked 
 flowers. Liked birds. Liked music. 
 
 He did not know why he liked these things, 
 but he liked them. 
 
 [so 
 
MAGNETS 
 
 OHE was unhappy at home, and wanted to 
 be Loved. He loved her madly, and she mar- 
 ried him. 
 
 He had a great fund of ambition, initiative, 
 and energy, and urged her to improve her- 
 self. 
 
 She was fond of him but was mentally lazy. 
 Did he not love her madly as she was? Was 
 not life a bed of roses? 
 
 She met Another. The other had for her 
 that attraction which is as mysterious as the 
 attraction of the poles of a magnet. He 
 thrilled her. 
 
 He could have made anything of her. She 
 would have given her last drop of blood to 
 have become His Ideal. 
 
 But, he did not really love her. He wanted 
 her for a while. He has destroyed her purity, 
 honesty, loyalty, truthfulness, pride and com- 
 mon decency. 
 
 [ 52 ] 
 
FEELING AND ENVIRONMENT 
 
 A 
 
 DIRTY flat. Many dark-eyed joyless 
 children. Gloom. A madonna face of sixteen 
 — with large brown eyes. A lover. Sorrow. 
 Sickness. Suffering. Hunger. Hatred. 
 
 Would she have become this great artist 
 without these? 
 
 A modest home in the country. A modest 
 apartment in town. A pretty face of twenty 
 with wide open baby eyes. Charm. A moth- 
 er's sheltering care. Nothing ugly. A sen- 
 timental lover, held at arm's length. 
 
 Will she ever be an artist? Will she be sin- 
 cere? Will she be able to depict that which 
 she is not capable of feeling? 
 
 [S3] 
 
THE BLUE SKY 
 
 OHE was at Nice. I had not seen her for 
 six months. 
 
 She engaged an apartment for me. I told 
 her I would order luncheon served in my 
 rooms, as soon as I arrived, and asked her to 
 come there. 
 
 She knocked and I opened the door. We 
 looked at each other for a moment. I put 
 my arm around her and drew her to me. 
 
 I never could forget that kiss. She told 
 me afterwards that she would always remem- 
 ber it. It was a kiss of love, of longing, of 
 peace. 
 
 We had luncheon in my dining room which 
 faced the sea, and which was quite high above 
 it. 
 
 We looked at each other — we looked at 
 the blue sky — we looked at the blue sea — 
 we ate a little — we sighed. We were very 
 happy. 
 
 After the luncheon had been cleared away, 
 I put some cushions on the floor by the open 
 French window. We sat there facing each 
 other. 
 
 I held her hand and we looked — at the 
 
 [54] 
 
blue sky — at the blue sea — and into each 
 other's eyes. Hers were soft and passionate. 
 
 I moved closer to her. 
 
 The sun poured down upon us. 
 
 She was quivering. 
 
 I kissed her mouth. I kissed her face. I 
 kissed her neck. 
 
 Suddenly, — sad music rent the air. She 
 looked at the street and uttered a plaintive 
 cry. 
 
 I listened. It was Chopin's Funeral March. 
 
 I looked. A funeral procession was passing 
 by. 
 
 Tears sprang to our eyes, and ran down our 
 cheeks. 
 
 An American soldier, wrapped in an Amer- 
 ican flag, was on his way to a lonely burial in 
 France. 
 
 [55] 
 
LOST: SELF-SATISFACTION 
 
 OHE had baby eyes. He loved her ideally. 
 
 She was lithe, voluptuous and dainty. He 
 loved her passionately. 
 
 She basked contentedly in his love. 
 
 She had a luxurious home. 
 
 She basked contentedly in her home. 
 
 He ached for her. 
 
 She Felt faintly. 
 
 She was content and afraid. 
 
 He became unhappy. 
 
 She pretended to Feel. 
 
 He ceased to Feel. 
 
 She is no longer content. She is no longer 
 afraid. 
 
 She is unhappy. She is suffering. 
 
 She saw the insatiable mouth of another 
 woman. 
 
 She heard its moan. 
 
 She saw his rapture. 
 
 She hates him. She loves him passionately. 
 
 [56] 
 
PEDESTALS 
 
 H 
 
 E sacrificed his own wants for Her. 
 
 He gave her a big house and motors and 
 jewels. He gave her wonderful clothes, and 
 took an interest in them. He took her on 
 sentimental trips. He tried to improve her — 
 by suggestion — not criticism. 
 
 He gave her courtesy and compliments and 
 affection and passion. He put her on a ped- 
 estal and kissed her feet. He taught her about 
 life, and warned her about other men. He 
 gave her babies. 
 
 He was proud, trusting, and dignified, so he 
 was never jealous. She could do what she 
 wanted with her time. She could have any- 
 thing she wanted. 
 
 He worked ten hours a day. She never 
 worked or made any effort: she took charity 
 from him all her life. 
 
 He was the typical caricatured American 
 business man. He was one of those who loved 
 his wife. 
 
 Therefore he spoiled her. 
 
 [57] 
 
LITTLE NEIGHBORS 
 
 o 
 
 F NE as a boy, fed the pigs in the August 
 sun. 
 
 Carried the milk-pails over the ice. 
 
 Gathered wood at sunrise. 
 
 Hoed potatoes at sunset. 
 
 From work — health. 
 
 From sorrow — humor. 
 
 From having nothing — desire. 
 
 From necessity — courage. 
 
 From routine — patience and persistence. 
 
 Acquired facts and used them. 
 
 A man with the joy of living. 
 
 Accomplishment and Helpfulness. 
 
 Happy and all who knew him — happy. 
 
 The other watched his little neighbor feed 
 the pigs and hoe the potatoes. 
 
 From play — pleasure. 
 
 From joy — joy. 
 
 From having everything — satisfaction. 
 
 From luxury — love of luxury. 
 
 From many pleasures — impatience and 
 fickleness. 
 
 Was taught many facts, but as they came 
 so easily and were of no particular use to him, 
 he has not absorbed them. 
 
 [58] 
 
He has no imagination. 
 He sees no particular object in life. 
 He accomplishes nothing. 
 He is not even fundamentally honest. 
 He makes no one happy — not even him- 
 self. 
 
 [59] 
 
LIBIDO 
 
 H 
 
 E was an intellectual gentleman, but a 
 sensualist. He had a high-powered thinking 
 mind and an insistent body. He was strong 
 enough not to be dragged down. He was sat- 
 isfied with himself in a grim sort of way. 
 
 One day something tragic happened to him 
 (I do not know just what it was). 
 
 In a few months he seemed happier than I 
 had ever known him before. 
 
 He never talked to me about it. 
 
 Four framed mottoes appeared on his Li- 
 brary Mantle: 
 
 "The Truth Has Set me Free." 
 
 "Never Accept a Substitute for the Real 
 Thing." 
 
 "To be Carnally Minded is Death, but to 
 be Spiritually Minded is Life and Peace." 
 
 The fourth was evidently his own: "Even 
 if you can't live among the mountain tops, go 
 there occasionally to obtain a clear view of 
 what is worth while below." 
 
 [60] 
 
THE MENTAL BULLY 
 
 H 
 
 E was a big burly fellow and gloried in his 
 strength. Men kept out of his way. One day 
 he was walking along the street and shoved a 
 little fellow into the gutter. 
 
 The crowd called him a Bully and gave him 
 a beating. 
 
 He had a little body but a big head and 
 gloried in his brains. Other captains of in- 
 dustry kept out of his way. One day he 
 tricked his employees into an agreement which 
 was against their interests. 
 
 The crowd was not sufficiently educated 
 to even call him a Bully. 
 
 [61] 
 
STANDARDS 
 
 i 
 
 TOOK the only vacant seat in the train 
 from Paris to the suburbs. I was soon having 
 an interesting conversation with Her. 
 
 Her husband was in Belgium. She was 
 older than I, and not very attractive. 
 
 She was entertaining in her broken English, 
 and pointed out many things of interest. We 
 lunched together. 
 
 On the way home she asked me where I was 
 living. 
 
 "At the Continental, " I said. 
 
 "So am I." 
 
 "Isn't that odd?" 
 
 "What is the number of your room?" — 
 she asked. 
 
 "One hundred and forty." 
 
 "Mine is the next room," — she said, laugh- 
 ing merrily (and gleefully). 
 
 I went to my room. I looked at the door 
 leading to hers. 
 
 I knew she could never understand. 
 She would be hurt. 
 
 I received a telegram calling me away on 
 business. 
 
 [62] 
 
I told her about it. 
 
 I said "au revoir" and moved to another 
 hotel. 
 
 [6 3 ] 
 
MATED TO A CLOWN 
 
 i 
 
 MET her when I was with a woman friend, 
 on the Boardwalk at Atlantic City. She 
 looked as though she would like to see me 
 again, so I called her on the 'phone and we 
 had a party of four together. 
 
 She was quite brilliant and beautifully 
 gowned. We danced. I was frankly inter- 
 ested and so was she. 
 
 She said that it was her first "party" for a 
 year. She enjoyed it as though it was the first 
 party of her life. 
 
 On the following night we had another 
 party. Her husband had arrived from the 
 city, and we had to take him along. 
 
 He was a healthy, opinionated, stupid, 
 spineless, lazy male. 
 
 I learned that she had taken care of her 
 three children, made her own clothes, and 
 had done the housework for some years. 
 
 We were all very dull. 
 
 [6 4 ] 
 
LILIES AND MUDDY WATER 
 
 OHE was pretty, attractive and affectionate. 
 She had real feeling, and was capable of real 
 things. 
 
 He gave her worldliness and passion. She 
 sickened and left him. 
 
 Sorrow brought realization to him. He be- 
 came an advancing soul, and found new 
 heights for himself. He found no one there. 
 
 How many men "kill the thing they love?" 
 
 [6sl 
 
DUSTY SHELVES 
 
 H 
 
 E was not very strong physically, but he 
 was ambitious to succeed. He learned the 
 things which people told him he should know. 
 
 He had a good memory and was taught to 
 develop it further. He became a great Store- 
 house of Facts. 
 
 He lost his ambition and took a position in 
 an Information Bureau on a newspaper. 
 
 One day he read a book called "How to get 
 Strong," and he went into a gymnasium. 
 Merely by using his muscles, — his body be- 
 came a new and healthy thing. 
 
 Then he started in to exercise his mind. 
 He changed it from a Storehouse to a Think- 
 ing Machine. He exercised it with all kinds 
 of Problems — of mathematics, politics, busi- 
 ness, and science. 
 
 He began to think things out for himself. 
 Every day his Mental Machine became more 
 powerful, His confidence and ambition re- 
 turned. 
 
 He owns the newspaper. He employs a boy 
 with an encyclopedia to run the Information 
 Bureau. 
 
 [66] 
 
THE MISER 
 
 JHE received his advances — cautiously; 
 reciprocated his feelings — cautiously; and 
 accepted his affection — cautiously. 
 
 He said to himself: This is a self-respecting 
 girl, and she is the girl for me. 
 
 She loved him — cautiously — until he 
 died. 
 
 Then she married another in as short a 
 time as she could — cautiously. 
 
 There had been Another who responded to 
 him impulsively. She told him to take her 
 and do with her what he would. 
 
 He had thought her cheap, but she never 
 married — even cautiously. 
 
 [6 7 ] 
 
NEVER TO KNOW 
 
 T 
 
 WENTY. Unthoughtfully sentimental, 
 and sentimentally thoughtful. She looked at 
 life hopefully. She had never been on the 
 Heights or through the Great Canyons. She 
 had never seen the swamps. 
 
 Forty. Scarred. Fallen from the Heights. 
 Satiated with the Valleys. Longing for a re- 
 viving flame. 
 
 He loved her and she married him. 
 She gave him all he taught her to give — all 
 that he wanted. 
 He gave her all he had left to give. 
 
 [68] 
 
STRONG TIMBER 
 
 i 
 
 T was a wonderful looking ship as it lay 
 at anchor, but it did not seem to be able to 
 withstand the seas. Whenever it had a bad 
 crossing it went into dry-dock for repairs. 
 
 He lived in a monastery and led a pious 
 life. Whenever he went out into the world, 
 he hurried back to his lonely vigils. 
 
 It is one thing to be weak and live in calm 
 waters; or to be good when alone. 
 
 It is quite another thing to be built so as 
 to withstand the storm — to retain your Ideals 
 in the Midst of the Crowd. 
 
 [6 9 ] 
 
DETERRENTS 
 
 H 
 
 E was a bright boy and instinctively 
 knew the difference between right and wrong. 
 His answers to the problems of his early life 
 were correct. 
 
 He was sent to school where he was taught 
 much that he was too young to understand. 
 He went to a sectarian church where he was 
 taught what religion was. He learned many 
 superstitions from his friends. He was taught 
 Manners and as to what was Good-form. 
 
 In short, he was thoroughly "mixed up" and 
 when any question arose for decision, he went 
 to his friends for advice. 
 
 He lost his self-reliance, because he never 
 trusted his own intuitions — listened to the 
 Great Within. He was buffeted here and 
 there and his fate became a matter of chance. 
 
 When he realized this, he cast off his deter- 
 rents, and determined to rise or fall on his 
 own powers. He unlearned much that he had 
 learned, and became "as a little child." 
 
 He understands now why men "without ad- 
 vantages" have succeeded in spite of their 
 "handicap." 
 
 [70] 
 
TO-MORROW 
 
 i 
 
 WANDERED out into the Paris streets 
 after the dance. It was a beautiful moonlight 
 night, and I determined to walk home. 
 
 I soon realized that I was lost, and as I did 
 not meet anyone on the streets, I could not 
 inquire my way. 
 
 I met a donkey, harnessed to a cart, and 
 tied to a lamppost. 
 
 "What are you doing here at three A. M.?" 
 — I asked. 
 
 "I wish I knew," — he replied. "You look 
 sad." 
 
 "I suppose you are always sad," — I said. 
 
 "Nearly always," — he answered, "and I 
 suppose you are nearly always happy." 
 
 "Nearly always, but what makes you think 
 I am sad to-night?" I asked. 
 
 "You wouldn't bother talking to me if you 
 weren't," — he answered. "You look as 
 though you had been turned down by your 
 best girl." 
 
 "You are perfectly correct," ■ — I admitted. 
 
 "Well, cheer up," — said the donkey. 
 "There are plenty of other things for you." 
 Then he added with a choke in his voice: "I 
 
 [71] 
 
will never even have a chance to have a best 
 
 girl." 
 
 "It is daylight and to-morrow," I reflected, 
 as I crossed the bridge across the Seine. 
 
 [72] 
 
QUID PRO QUO 
 
 o 
 
 NE had a little money. One had a great 
 deal. 
 
 The one with a little money had always 
 looked forward merely to more money. The 
 one with a great deal had always looked for- 
 ward merely to a great deal more. 
 
 One entertained modestly. The other en- 
 tertained lavishly. 
 
 Their aims were alike. 
 
 They had everything they wanted except 
 high-grade friends. 
 
 They had nothing to give that high-grade 
 people would want. 
 
 They never had high-grade friends. 
 
 [73] 
 
SELFISHNESS 
 
 D 
 
 URING ten years of marriage she gave 
 her heart to Him. 
 
 He was self-satisfied. 
 
 She was constantly making an effort to 
 Give — to Grow. 
 
 She craved his love, his affection, his pas- 
 sion. 
 
 She was tolerant. 
 
 He never showed any love for her. 
 
 She loved him so much that she felt he 
 must love her. 
 
 He was a large, fine-looking specimen. 
 
 His capacity for food and drink was greater 
 than his capacity for love. 
 
 Finally, through spiritual, mental and physi- 
 cal exhaustion, her love died a lingering death. 
 
 She saw him as he was. She obtained a 
 divorce. 
 
 She thought of her wasted life. She called 
 it "Sacrifice" — whereas it has been a desper- 
 ate and normal craving for that which she 
 wanted. 
 
 She became sorry for herself. 
 
 Another man fell deeply in love with her. 
 
 He was sympathetic of her past unhappi- 
 ness. 
 
 [74] 
 
She accepted his sympathy and his love. 
 She felt it was her due. She married him. 
 
 She thinks of her long years of misery — of 
 her "Sacrifice." 
 
 She never makes an effort to Give — to 
 Grow. 
 
 She is self-satisfied. 
 
 She is intolerant. 
 
 She is not a real person. 
 
 [75] 
 
SPENDTHRIFTS 
 
 ONCEITED like all lovers. Other people 
 had loved but not as much as they. Other 
 loves had died, but theirs would live forever. 
 
 It is sometimes easier to make money than 
 to keep it. It is always easier to inherit money 
 than to retain it. If one does not know enough 
 to make it, one doesn't know enough to in- 
 vest it. 
 
 Their love — which came so easily — was 
 not invested. It was squandered with youth- 
 ful confidence that there would always be an 
 inexhaustible fund to draw on. 
 
 Their over-confidence was their ruin. 
 Neither gold nor love will endure without care 
 and sacrifice. 
 
 They claim that "life is full of illusions." 
 
 [76] 
 
TWO SUPPER DANCES 
 
 T 
 
 HE kitchen maids were washing dishes. 
 One was eighteen. The other was twenty. 
 
 They were unhealthy looking. Their faces 
 were sallow. Their hair was scant. Their 
 dresses were gravy colored. Their shoes were 
 the shoes of men. 
 
 It was almost midnight. They were tired. 
 
 There was a screen outside the pantry door. 
 
 Music from the orchestra drifted in. 
 
 Holding their aprons in their hands — they 
 danced — laughing. 
 
 I could see them there behind the screen. 
 
 They were dancing on the same floor — to 
 the same music — as the other dancers. 
 
 I sat alone in the splendor of the Crystal 
 Room of the Ritz, sipping my champagne — 
 wondering — why. 
 
 [77] 
 
THE ONE COMMANDMENT 
 
 H 
 
 E was queer. That is, people said he was 
 queer, and people are supposed to know. 
 
 He had gone to church three times a day 
 when he was a boy and tried to obey all the 
 ten commandments. He had a bad memory 
 and when he got older, he forgot some of 
 them. 
 
 He did not always turn the other cheek. 
 
 There were other things he did not do which 
 people said he shouldjiave done. But, 
 
 He never hurt anyone. 
 
 Another queer fellow said he was the best 
 and finest man that ever lived. 
 
 [78] 
 
BAUBLES 
 
 She bad hair ft. fine spun gold, and large 
 
 gray-blue eyes with black lashes. 
 
 She had a figure that was fausse maigre 
 and tiny feet and hands. 
 
 He thought she was very lovely — quite 
 perfect. When he talked to her she seemed 
 absorbed and hardly spoke a word. 
 
 He fell on his knees and kissed her hand — 
 she did not seem to mind. 
 
 He kissed her hair — she giggled and 
 laughed. 
 
 He kissed her cheek — she giggled and 
 laughed. 
 
 He passionately kissed her lips — she gig- 
 gled and laughed. 
 
 At twenty-five: 
 
 As he lay in bed that night, he thought of 
 the wonderful love that lay in store for him. 
 
 At thirty-five: 
 
 When he found his way to the street, he 
 muttered, "Damn such women." 
 
 [79] 
 
STARVATION 
 
 H 
 
 E loved his wife. 
 
 She was not very responsive. 
 
 After they had been married for six months 
 he accidently met his former mistress. She 
 loved him madly. 
 
 He fled from her. 
 
 That night he took his wife in his arms. 
 She was not very responsive. 
 
 He returned to his mistress. He deceived 
 his wife. He was ashamed. 
 
 He thought he was worse than life. 
 
 He found his wife in the arms of another. 
 
 That made him think that life was as bad 
 as he was. 
 
 He was just. He forgave her. 
 
 He sickened. He contracted pneumonia. 
 His condition became critical. 
 
 His mistress lost her head. She went to 
 his house. She told his wife of their love, and 
 said that she must see him. 
 
 In anger his wife took her to his bedside. 
 
 He saw them together. 
 
 He was too weak to move. 
 
 "My God!" was all that he could say. 
 
 They approached closer to him. 
 
 He was dead. 
 
 [so] 
 
FACTS AND QUALITIES 
 
 H 
 
 E graduated from college with honors. 
 His marks were: 
 
 Latin 90 
 
 Greek 90 
 
 English 100 
 
 French 90 
 
 Sociology 100 
 
 Economics 100 
 
 Geology 90 
 
 Calculus 90 
 
 Average 94 
 
 After he had been in business for two 
 months he was discharged. The marks his 
 employer gave him were: 
 
 Concentration 60 
 
 Persistence 20 
 
 Promptness 70 
 
 Imagination 20 
 
 Logic 70 
 
 Ambition 50 
 
 Patience 30 
 
 Self-control 60 
 
 Initiative 10 
 
 Self-reliance 40 
 
 Average 43 
 
 [81] 
 
SLIPPING 
 
 Y. 
 
 OUNG and what the world calls Idealistic 
 — She was happy holding his hand. She 
 wanted to give Him everything she had to 
 give — although she did not know just what 
 that was. 
 
 He knew her love to be inexperienced and 
 spiritual and thought that it would be won- 
 derful to teach her many things he had learned 
 in the world. 
 
 Now — She loves love. They do not hold 
 each other's hands or feel soul in a kiss. The 
 love-light has gone out of their eyes. It is 
 replaced by another look. 
 
 Sometimes they think of love's sweet young 
 dream. 
 
 For what reason did God give us Ideals in 
 our youth if they were not to be made real? 
 
 [82] 
 
UNDERSTANDING 
 
 O HE was considered to be loyal and unself- 
 ish. It doesn't matter what He was, except- 
 ing that he was fundamentally decent. He 
 loved life and people. He loved Her most of 
 all. 
 
 She was not sympathetic in understanding 
 the things he liked, because they were not 
 the things she liked. She was so sympathetic 
 when he was depressed that she depressed him 
 even more. 
 
 She smothered him. It was worse than 
 standing alone. 
 
 [83] 
 
ON A PEDESTAL 
 
 uHE was very young, but she confessed to 
 Him that another had been her lover. He 
 cursed the first fellow as a blackguard. He 
 took her for himself. 
 
 She was pretty and vivacious. They had 
 many happy times together. She adored him. 
 
 He was kind and loving and treated her like 
 a princess and not like a manicure. 
 
 In a few years he married. He wished her 
 good luck, and was satisfied he had done her 
 no harm. 
 
 She does not enjoy going out with her 
 former friends. 
 
 They do not seem to be so kind and so 
 loving. They treat her like a manicure. 
 
 [8 4 ] 
 
LOST OPPORTUNITIES 
 
 i 
 
 WAS at Saratoga for the night on my way 
 to the mountains. After dinner, I sat on the 
 porch. 
 
 I watched Her all evening as she laughed 
 and talked with her friends. I was only 
 twenty. She was my Ideal: beautiful, intel- 
 ligent and vivacious. As I look back on her 
 now — also temperamental. 
 
 I did not meet her. I have never met 
 anyone just like her. 
 
 At twenty one does not know that Ideals 
 are rare. I left the next morning as I had 
 planned. 
 
 If it had been twenty years later, I would 
 have remained there all summer and would 
 have found a way of meeting her. 
 
 I might have been disappointed. 
 
 I have at least Seen my Ideal. 
 
 [85] 
 
DEGREES 
 
 A: 
 
 .N unthinking mind. Good food. Good 
 clothes. No emotions but humor and sym- 
 pathy. No worry. He thought he was as 
 happy as man could be. 
 
 A thinking mind. Good food. Good 
 clothes. Honest. Cheerful. Unselfish. Am- 
 bitious. Courageous. Full of Sentiment, 
 Humor, Imagination, Sympathy, Love and 
 Passion. Some Worry. He thought he was as 
 happy as man could be. 
 
 [86] 
 
MOONLIGHT AND GARDENIAS 
 
 T 
 
 HEY took their children to Venice for a 
 long vacation, but the husband was called 
 home on business. He left them there with a 
 feeling of security, because his uncle and aunt 
 were there to look after them if anything 
 went wrong. 
 
 Relatives are sometimes very kind: these 
 relatives invited the wife to dinner frequently. 
 
 The first time she went, she met a Man who 
 knew Venice very well, and who was very 
 kind. He was at her side whenever she would 
 allow it. His never failing courtesy and kind- 
 ness and unavowed esteem made life more 
 pleasant. 
 
 Everything about Venice appealed to her. 
 When she stood alone at her window, and saw 
 the moonlight over the canals, she would feel 
 a little drugged with the beauty and mystery 
 of it. She would long for her husband, but 
 he was not there. 
 
 One night, the Man took her in a gondola 
 over the canals. He sang to her in a caressing 
 voice. She held a gardenia he had given her 
 against her face. She breathed in its perfume. 
 She breathed in the moonlight. 
 
 [8 7 ] 
 
He kissed her hand. She was terribly 
 stirred. Her husband was not there. 
 She breathed in His kisses. 
 Whose? 
 
 [88] 
 
TOGETHER 
 
 HEY were together at sunsets — at high 
 windows looking over cities — in country 
 lanes. 
 
 They were at the opera together, they 
 talked a great deal together, and read to- 
 gether. 
 
 He kissed her hair, and held her hands, and 
 they were sentimental together. 
 
 Though she gave her maidenhood to him 
 — she gave not. When he realized they were 
 not together, dark despair and misery filled 
 his soul. 
 
 Out of the gloom came another with un- 
 derstanding in her eyes. He held her hands 
 and she trembled. He held her close to him 
 and she panted. 
 
 Thirstily their lips came together. 
 
 [8 9 ] 
 
FALLOW YEARS 
 
 A 
 
 DESK. A young man. Bustle. Con- 
 centration. Artificial light. Noise. Hard 
 work. Sometimes a holiday in the Great Out- 
 doors. Sometimes Color and Music. He re- 
 sisted the Outdoors — the color — the music 
 — and obtained the Things he wanted. 
 
 He gave up his Desk, but after a while he 
 became restless — wanting some Desire. But 
 none came and he regretted he had obtained 
 the Things he wanted so soon. 
 
 One day he realized that life can not be 
 filled with Color and Music. Things did not 
 seem so important. 
 
 In helping others, he found a real joy in 
 living. Sometimes he enjoys a holiday in the 
 Great Outdoors. Sometimes Color and Mu- 
 sic. 
 
 The fallow years were the most precious 
 because they brought this into his Soul. 
 
 [90] 
 
THE DIFFERENCE 
 
 H 
 
 E loved her. He loved her with such a 
 love! 
 
 He loved her so much that he was unhappy 
 when she was not doing all she could to be the 
 most perfect woman on earth. 
 
 He loved her so much it was pain, yet he 
 found sweetness in the pain, and did all he 
 could to stimulate his love. 
 
 He wanted to continue to Give, so he taught 
 her how to keep his love. 
 
 He wanted to go away with her into the 
 wilderness. He wanted to go into the social 
 world and be stimulated so that he would 
 have more to Give her. 
 
 He wanted to draw from nature, from mu- 
 sic, and from people to Give her. He wanted 
 her to hunt out Sources from which he could 
 draw to Give her more. 
 
 He wanted to always feel a great hunger 
 for her so that she would always have all that 
 she wanted. No other woman could have 
 even partially satisfied him : she would merely 
 have stimulated him for her. 
 
 He was so happy in Feeling and Giving 
 that he wanted her to Feel and Give. 
 
 He wanted her to enjoy with other people 
 
 [91] 
 
things which they could make her appreciate 
 better than he. He wanted to enjoy things 
 with other people that would stimulate his 
 "best side," and that would stimulate him for 
 her. 
 
 He felt they were united forever in body and 
 spirit; and he was joyful when men and wo- 
 men loved her, and when she was interested in 
 them. 
 
 He thought she was his — wholly and 
 solely, and that any experience she might have 
 would make her hunger for him. 
 
 He was only a man ; he did not understand a 
 woman. 
 
 When she felt the moonlight she wanted 
 the moon. 
 
 [92] 
 
TRAINING AND POWER 
 
 A. 
 
 .GAINST his inclinations, he was taught 
 arithmetic, geography and Latin. He was 
 a brilliant lad, and could recite many things 
 for the benefit of an assembled company. 
 
 His mind was cultivated. 
 
 The other chap was a farmer's son. He had 
 a mother who taught him to want to Grow. 
 
 He learned his arithmetic plotting out the 
 fields; his geography by drawing maps of 
 their bleak country; and he knew no Latin. 
 
 He cultivated his own mind — and strength- 
 ened it. 
 
 [93] 
 
GOOD BROWN ALE 
 
 OHE was at the seashore. On Sundays He 
 would come from the city to see her. He 
 worked hard during the week and looked for- 
 ward to Sundays — he could sit on the cool 
 porch and read the newspapers. 
 
 He gave her every material thing she 
 wanted — including good brown ale. 
 
 Every evening she and I had buoyant times 
 together. I gave her a lot of things she 
 wanted. I also gave her champagne — which 
 sparkled more than good brown ale. 
 
 I loved her quite madly. She said she 
 loved me, — because she must love someone ; 
 and she was tired of good brown ale. 
 
 You may think he was an awful fool not to 
 have acquired a taste for champagne. 
 
 Everyone said he was an awfully good hus- 
 band, because he remained in the hot city for 
 seven nights in the week. 
 
 I was perfectly satisfied with him. 
 
 [94] 
 
PERSISTENT EYES 
 
 i 
 
 MET a maiden at a dance. She had per- 
 sistent eyes. We danced every dance to- 
 gether. 
 
 I had planned to leave the next morning, 
 but the eyes haunted me. I could not sleep, 
 and I sent her a note early the next morning 
 stating that I would stay for another week. 
 
 The next day she promised to marry me, 
 and we spent the week in each other's arms. 
 
 Fate separated us for three months ; letters 
 came less often; and she married another. 
 
 I saw her in a cafe the other night. She 
 was as young and beautiful as ever. 
 
 She did not see me. She was looking at 
 her third husband — with persistent eyes. 
 
 [9Sl 
 
A MODERN KNIGHT 
 
 H 
 
 E was eighteen and she was twenty-five 
 Because he was in love with her, — he thought 
 she was beautiful and perfect. 
 
 He was rich and she was poor. He knew 
 she loved him because she had told him so. 
 Had she not written that her handkerchief 
 was wet with tears the day he left! 
 
 He asked his father for money to enable 
 him to return to see her. Father declined. 
 
 He stole away on his bicycle on a hot sum- 
 mer's day — over the mountains. He grew 
 very tired. 
 
 Someone had told him that whisky was a 
 stimulant, so be bought some and drank it. 
 He grew much more tired. 
 
 He had an accident on his bicycle, and was 
 carried back to his father. 
 
 The Lady married a farmer. 
 
 [96] 
 
WOMEN AND DOLLS 
 
 i 
 
 T has been said that the more cultivated 
 one becomes, the more one demands — of 
 oneself, of one's friends, of one's mate. 
 
 Some of you will concede this woman to be 
 perfect. Others will demand more! 
 
 She was intensely in love with her husband ; 
 she had a fine mind and a real imagination; 
 she had a great spiritual understanding; and 
 she had a great appreciation of the beautiful 
 in nature and in art. She had character, and 
 heart and a cheerful disposition. 
 
 Her husband was a fine-looking specimen, 
 — somewhat of the "stuffed-shirt" variety. 
 
 He did not seem to be very keen about her. 
 She attributed it to lack of temperament. 
 
 There was a fluffy little doll-faced adoring 
 blonde whom he saw frequently. He became 
 very keen about the doll. 
 
 "But," — asked his friends, "how could he 
 love That with such a wife?" 
 
 He understood the doll. She had what he 
 wanted. 
 
 [97] 
 
CIRCUMSTANCES 
 
 i 
 
 MET her on a railway dining car. After 
 dinner we talked of nothing and questioned 
 each other with our eyes. 
 
 She was rather delicate looking — with a 
 sweet face, which glowed with sunlight, when 
 she smiled. 
 
 When I questioned her, she only said: "I 
 have had a hard life." 
 
 I could see she was neither hardened nor 
 dissipated, so I ventured: "It has not harmed 
 you." 
 
 She merely replied: "You are wrong. " 
 
 Later I asked the conductor of the train 
 who she was. 
 
 He told me. 
 
 But I knew she could have been a Woman 
 of the Hearth. 
 
 [98] 
 
SUPERFICIAL 
 
 OHE was twenty-two and quaint and de- 
 mure. She liked sunlight, sunsets, pale greens, 
 bright crimsons, poetry, pictures, fine clothes, 
 jewelry, kind hearts and little children. 
 
 She had courage, had worked hard, and had 
 been successful. She was well poised and am- 
 bitious. She was so well poised, "her friends" 
 told me she was cold and had no heart. 
 
 He was rich and "her friends" told him the 
 same thing, although She told him that she 
 loved him. 
 
 She "lied" to him about something and he 
 ran away. 
 
 He has since learned: that She did not know 
 she had lied — that she had wished he was 
 not rich — that her poise was suppression of 
 passion — and that she had a big heart which 
 he had broken. 
 
 [99] 
 
TRAGEDY 
 
 i 
 
 MET a pretty little Austrian girl in a cafe. 
 She was only eighteen, yet she had possessed 
 three lovers in as many months. 
 
 If anyone of them had loved her, she might 
 have loved him in return. If anyone of them 
 had been true to her, she would have been 
 true to him. 
 
 She was full of love. They had made her 
 in love with love. They had not understood 
 her childlike simplicity. 
 
 She had no relatives in America and had 
 made her living as a model. I persuaded her 
 to return to her married sister in Austria and 
 offered to buy her passage. I was embarrassed 
 by her tears of gratitude shed so freely in a 
 public cafe. I promised to meet her the next 
 day. 
 
 One of those unavoidable accidents oc- 
 curred, and I arrived too late. 
 
 I have no way of finding her. 
 
 I suppose I have made her even more cyn- 
 ical of men. 
 
 I suppose I have pulled her down another 
 peg. 
 
 [ ioo ] 
 
LIFE BECOMES COMPLICATED 
 
 H 
 
 E had a good sensible loving mistress who 
 adored him. He fell in love with a young 
 married woman of good family and eloped 
 with her. This young woman's husband and 
 mother went to the mistress and begged her 
 to go after them and persuade them to return. 
 They returned. 
 
 The young woman and her husband were 
 reunited. The husband died later. 
 
 The mistress thought that the young 
 woman — now a widow — was too attractive 
 and dangerous for her lover to marry. She 
 went to see his father and told him so. 
 
 Mistress and father picked out a safer wife 
 for him. 
 
 This did not happen in America. It is a 
 story of a more cultured land. 
 
 [IOI] 
 
UNDERCURRENTS 
 
 H 
 
 IS wife's best friend was staying with 
 them and they were having a quiet dinner at 
 home. 
 
 "I think everyone should write an auto- 
 biography," — said the wife's best friend. 
 
 "So do I," — said the wife. 
 
 "I think you are right," — said the husband. 
 "I will write one leaving out no details in my 
 life." 
 
 The wife smiled confidently. 
 
 The best friend blushed painfully. 
 
 The pretty French maid nearly dropped the 
 tray. 
 
 [ 102 ] 
 
ESCAPADES 
 
 i 
 
 T was a wonderful night and I often like to 
 look back upon it. She told me her husband 
 would be asleep at one; and that she would 
 leave the side door open. 
 
 I left the dance only a block away, and 
 stealthily crossed the lawn, tiptoed across the 
 porch, and found the knob of the door. 
 
 She was inside waiting for me, and guided 
 me by the hand through the furniture, to the 
 sofa. We did not even dare speak. 
 
 I left by another door and crouched from 
 bush to bush fearing a bullet in my back from 
 the bedroom window. 
 
 As I wandered into the ballroom I had left, 
 
 had no qualms of conscience. 
 
 We had merely wanted to know how it 
 would feel to be real adventurous lovers. 
 
 [ 103] 
 
VANITY 
 
 i 
 
 SENT her flowers, and she thanked me. 
 
 I called upon her often, and she didn't seem 
 to mind. 
 
 I made love to her, and she rather seemed 
 to like it (though she knew it wasn't real). 
 
 I fell in love with her, and told her so, but 
 she didn't believe it. Why should she? I 
 had lied to her before. 
 
 When she knew I was badly burnt, she in- 
 troduced me to her fiance, so I knew she had 
 just wanted admiration, and I went away. 
 
 He tired of her and she tired of him. She 
 wrote for me. 
 
 I knew she just wanted admiration. I 
 would like to have seen her burnt, but I 
 stayed away. 
 
 [ 104] 
 
SAVOIR FAIRE 
 
 H 
 
 E was an artist, but he did not like his 
 artistic friends. They were not sufficiently 
 conservative — they were too "temperamen- 
 tal" — they had too many feelings — their 
 faces showed their emotions. 
 
 He knew a man of the world, who was never 
 ruffled — never worried. 
 
 He also knew a man whose misfortunes had 
 overwhelmed desire and courage — who was 
 called, by those without perception, "well 
 poised." 
 
 One of these men was incapable of emo- 
 tion; the other was hardened against it. 
 
 They became his models. 
 
 He sheltered himself from feeling and 
 smothered it when it seeped through. 
 
 He wonders why he can't make others feel. 
 
 I ioS ] 
 
AN ESSENTIAL DIFFERENCE 
 
 Y 
 
 OUNG. Blue-gray eyes. Dark wavy 
 hair. Good looking. With Mentality. In- 
 tensity. Ambition, but Hardened. 
 
 She was talking to the other. 
 
 Young. Blue-gray eyes. Dark wavy hair. 
 Good looking. With Mentality, Intensity, 
 Ambition, but Unselfish, Cheerful, and with 
 Faith. 
 
 Both of them said good-by — wondering 
 about the other woman's "story." 
 
 Their "stories" were the same. 
 
 [106] 
 
MILK SOPS 
 
 H 
 
 E had studied Latin and Greek and many 
 other things. He had collected many facts. 
 He believed "most of the Bible" and particu- 
 larly believed in the Episcopal Church. 
 
 He believed that "certain social conven- 
 tions were necessary" and that every gentle- 
 man should be a patriot. He was a 
 manufacturer and although his father had 
 been a Democrat, he was sufficiently liberal 
 to become a Republican. 
 
 His temper was under perfect control. He 
 abhorred excess, and had never been known 
 to get "squiffy" under the most provoking or 
 exhilarating circumstances. He never became 
 violent about either right or wrong. 
 
 In short, he was a thoroughly bad citizen. 
 
 [ 107] 
 
LONELINESS 
 
 jHE was a professional ballroom dancer. 
 Men thought she was attractive. Women 
 liked her — declaring she was thoroughly 
 "nice." 
 
 She needed r.e~ n:±es md I Lent he: the 
 n::nev :: :uy idem. She ~is very r:2.:e:nl 
 and made = ::n±dan: :: me. 
 
 She hi: been married and he: hnidand had 
 deserted her. She had lived with another 
 man who had left her to be married. She was 
 now (unknown to the world) living with her 
 dancing-partner. She had no Mends and no 
 :es:a::e5. She ~as d:mr s-: :-:;:u;{ :'>;■: :;: 
 Iwmtly. 
 
 One night my wife and I went up in the 
 hold elevator with diem. They woe blithe 
 and ziy. 
 
 "Such a dose association between them 
 must be a temptation,'' said I 
 
 "It must be awful to be lonely," said my 
 wife, snu g glin g up to me — "to fed there is 
 no one in the world who cares." 
 
 Does my wife love me? 
 
 :-s] 
 
FAMILIAR 
 
 H 
 
 E was of the world. So was She. 
 
 He fell in love with her in the real old- 
 fashioned youthful way. He had never been 
 in love before. 
 
 He brought her flowers from his own 
 garden. 
 
 He wrote poetry to her from his own heart. 
 
 She asked him for a loan. 
 
 He had experienced this before. 
 
 He seemed to awaken from the real old- 
 fashioned youthful way. 
 
 She never saw him again. 
 
 She never did understand. 
 
 [ 109] 
 
KIPLING'S VAMPIRE 
 
 H 
 
 E took her to the Mountain Top. Blue 
 sky above and green valleys below. He knelt 
 at her feet. She was happy and smiled — 
 complacently. 
 
 He pressed her body against his — she was 
 a little afraid. His breath came fast and he 
 drank from her lips — she looked at him — 
 wonderingly. 
 
 He was quite unhappy and wished that she 
 would not always look at him — wonderingly. 
 Time passed but she did not change. Think- 
 ing he was not the Right Man, he went on a 
 long journey. 
 
 She married another, who was unhappy be- 
 cause he could not arouse "the depths of her 
 being." He lived in fear that some other 
 would. 
 
 We know that there were no depths: that 
 she never could understand. 
 
 But He never knew it. He cursed himself. 
 
 She smiled — complacently. 
 
 [no] 
 
MORE VAMPIRES 
 
 OHE belonged to him — body and soul. 
 She made him very happy because she gave 
 him as much as he gave her. His life was full 
 of color and song and fire. She left him for 
 another man and he called her a Bad Woman. 
 He turned reverently to the Good Woman 
 who gave him nothing but jealousy and non- 
 understanding. 
 
 He curses himself for thinking of the Bad 
 Woman. 
 
 [hi] 
 
DRAWING THE LINE 
 
 H 
 
 E was married and should have known 
 it; but he often made excursions into other 
 parking places, with a show of feeling that 
 carried conviction. He was always taken seri- 
 ously. 
 
 Sally let him kiss her, but said it was not 
 right to do more. 
 
 Mary said it was not right for him to kiss 
 her, but that she would see him as often as 
 he liked — if he "behaved." 
 
 Jane would give him all if he promised that 
 no one would ever know. 
 
 Alice would not elope with him, because it 
 was not fair to his children. 
 
 Maude said it was not right for her to see 
 him unless he was willing to leave his wife and 
 children, and obtain a divorce. 
 
 Mabel said it was right for her to give him 
 "almost" everything, but that he must not 
 neglect his children. 
 
 Virginia would go to the end of the earth 
 and live with him openly before the world. 
 
 His wife did not seem to like any of these 
 women. 
 
 [112] 
 
INVISIBLE FIRE 
 
 H 
 
 E loved her. He did not love his wife, 
 but he did not want to lose his children. He 
 did not want to harm them. 
 
 She liked him immensely. She would not 
 accept more than his friendship, because she 
 knew it was wrong. 
 
 He told her it could not be wrong: that his 
 love was a very beautiful thing; and that it 
 would hurt no one. 
 
 She replied that no argument could change 
 wrong into right. 
 
 She continued to see him, and they con- 
 tinued to discuss it. 
 
 "Do you think it is right," — she asked, as 
 they passionately kissed each other. 
 
 "It cannot be wrong because it will not 
 hurt anyone," he replied 
 
 "It is perfectly plain that neither he nor 
 the co-respondent have any Character," said 
 his wife's attorney to the judge. 
 
 ["3i 
 
VEGETATING 
 
 T 
 
 HE Joneses and the Browns lived in the 
 suburbs. Mrs. Jones went to town nearly 
 every day and saw her friends and did a lot 
 of interesting things. 
 
 Mrs. Brown was a homebody and never 
 went a-gadding. 
 
 Jones thought his wife most entertaining. 
 Brown thought his wife very stupid. 
 
 Everybody said that Mrs. Brown was the 
 better wife, and deserved the adoration of her 
 husband. 
 
 I feel quite a bit of sympathy for Brown. 
 Even squash and turnips grow. 
 
 [114] 
 
THE HIGH-PRICED ONE 
 
 OHE gave herself for love. 
 
 Her friend gave herself for a house, motor 
 and jewels. 
 
 The discriminating called them both — 
 "light women." 
 
 She — loving one man — gave herself to 
 another for a house, motor, jewels, and a 
 marriage certificate. 
 
 The discriminating called her — "promi- 
 nent society leader engaged in many philan- 
 thropic works." 
 
 ["Sl 
 
THE EMOTIONAL APPEAL 
 
 T 
 
 HE Great Scholar was recruiting for the 
 War, and they listened attentively to all that 
 he had to say. He explained the causes of 
 the war; told them what they were fighting 
 for; and urged them to do their duty and 
 enlist. 
 
 They Thought he was right, and determined 
 to Think it over. 
 
 The English Tommy was recruiting. He 
 told them what he had seen of the cruelties of 
 the Boche; he showed them his wounds; and 
 told them he was on his way back to the 
 Front. He asked them whether they were 
 going to fight for their homes, or whether they 
 were going to let the other fellow do it. He 
 asked them to give up their personal liberty 
 temporarily in order that they and their sons 
 might enjoy it permanently. 
 
 They Felt he was right, — and enlisted. 
 
 [116] 
 
DEFINITIONS 
 
 ENIUS is the infinite capacity for taking 
 pains," — said Smith. 
 
 "Nonsense," — said Jones. "I have taken 
 pains all my life, and I haven't gotten any- 
 thing but pain out of it. Genius is born in 
 a man." 
 
 "You are both right," — said the Quiet One. 
 
 "How so?" — asked Smith and Jones, angry 
 at a compromise. 
 
 "Many men have thought your way — 
 Smith ; and many men have thought your way 
 — Jones, therefore you are both probably 
 right." 
 
 "That's very clear," said Smith and Jones, 
 sarcastically. 
 
 "Well it's this way," said the Quiet One. 
 "Genius has a born capacity for feeling, and 
 a desire to express it. This desire gives one an 
 infinite capacity for taking pains." 
 
 "How did you think that out?" — asked 
 Smith. 
 
 "I didn't. I am a genius." 
 
 ['"7] 
 
MOUNTAIN TOPS 
 
 i 
 
 HAD been Sipping the Honey where I 
 could; and too much Honey is bad for anyone. 
 
 Satiety makes one's conscience very for- 
 midable, so I was feeling quite down on my- 
 self. 
 
 I had not done anyone any harm, — at 
 least that is what the World would say if I 
 described the Flowers and the Sipping; but 
 my path had been far from the Mountain 
 Tops. 
 
 I met Her ! She was so real ! so honest ! so 
 fine ! so spiritual ! I had forgotten that people 
 were really spiritual. She took me back to 
 my youth. 
 
 The innocence of those kisses carried me 
 back to the Mountain Tops, and I saw how 
 little of value there was below. I am living 
 in the joy of purity. I have a song in my 
 heart! and kisses on my lips! The caresses 
 of lips against lips ! The kisses here and there 
 — on lips ! The blending of lips ! 
 
 I can sit and dream with the one I love — 
 happy in a kiss! 
 
 [118] 
 
THE CALL 
 
 OHE was a dainty slim little thing. When 
 you saw her in her evening gown, you knew 
 the meaning of the word " allure.' ' 
 
 When she was eighteen she had married a 
 Prince. She didn't like him much, and went 
 off to live with another man — by whom she 
 had a child. 
 
 Her lover deserted her. Her husband died, 
 and her mother took the child. 
 
 She was unencumbered, carefree, daring, 
 and only twenty, when I met her. 
 
 Her eyes never rested on anything except- 
 ing another pair of interested eyes; and they 
 met mine. 
 
 When I took her home from the dance I 
 thought her the most lovely woman I had ever 
 known. 
 
 When I left her apartment, I wondered why 
 I did not want to see her again. 
 
 I would like to see her now. 
 
 [119] 
 
COMPENSATION 
 
 i 
 
 NTELLIGENT. Sentimental. Ambitious 
 for the conventional, but only moderately am- 
 bitious for things. She wanted a moderately 
 good position in life with simple surroundings. 
 She thought a great deal about life and a 
 great deal about herself. She saw others hav- 
 ing so much! and she asked for so little! She 
 did not see just how she was to obtain what 
 she wanted. 
 
 She thought sometimes about a Man. He 
 would have to be quite nice — and very nice 
 to her. 
 
 She did not think much of Giving, — so one 
 man passed her by because she was neither 
 beautiful nor brilliant ; and many because she 
 did not seem to Feel. Finally one thought 
 her pretty and charming, caught the Bug, and 
 married her. 
 
 She does not Give a great deal, but she does 
 not think about that. 
 
 She thinks about how little she wants. 
 
 They are not very happy. 
 
 He wishes he had been immune. 
 
 [ 120] 
 
PHANTOMS 
 
 T 
 
 HE first night out, I was leaning over the 
 rail of the liner's dark deck, wishing I could 
 smoke a cigarette. Even that was forbidden, 
 for fear it would make our presence known 
 to a lurking submarine. 
 
 Although I could see nothing, I was con- 
 scious that someone was standing near me. 
 
 "Are you a man or a woman," — I asked, 
 laughing. 
 
 "Only a woman," — she answered, in a 
 voice that made me want to move closer. 
 "Who are you?" 
 
 "Only an old man," — I answered. "If you 
 lend me your hand I can tell your age," — I 
 ventured. "You are just the age I like," — I 
 continued, as I held both of her hands in mine. 
 
 "You are young too," — she said. 
 
 "I am young enough to be put in a flutter," 
 — I answered, "and I have no whiskers as you 
 can tell by putting your hand on my face." 
 
 "I wonder what you look like," — she said. 
 
 "I would look very happy if I could kiss 
 you," — I answered. "Don't you think it 
 would be amusing?" — I added. 
 
 "I never kiss to be amused," — she an- 
 swered. 
 
 [121] 
 
So I kissed her — really. 
 
 She was responsive. 
 
 Then we parted. 
 
 I never saw her. 
 
 She must have been very beautiful, and yet 
 there did not appear to be any beautiful 
 women on the boat. 
 
 I hope she fell overboard just after I left 
 her. 
 
 [ 122 ] 
 
FRENCH LESSONS AND LESSONS 
 IN FRENCH 
 
 T 
 
 HERE are three types of women I like 
 better than the other types of women I like. 
 They are rather tall and slender. They are 
 all lithe. One type is dark with passionate 
 brown eyes. Another is golden haired with 
 intense blue-gray eyes. The third has chest- 
 nut hair and fathomless violet eyes. 
 
 She was one of the three types. She was 
 walking to her work at her bureau in Paris. 
 When I asked her, she directed me to some 
 place to which I imagined (under the influence 
 of her glance) I wanted to go. 
 
 She did not speak a word of English, and I 
 practiced French on her as we walked along 
 together. Finally I asked her to lunch with 
 me several days a week, in order that I might 
 improve my conversation. 
 
 "My parents are very severe with me," — 
 she said. "We cannot do things here as you do 
 them in America." 
 
 "But I am very anxious for French lessons. 
 Perhaps I could go to your home for them," 
 I suggested. "Won't you ask your parents?" 
 
 [ 123 ] 
 
I received a note asking me to call on a 
 certain evening. 
 
 "Marthe" was not there, but her mother 
 gave me a lesson. 
 
 [ 124] 
 
AFRAID 
 
 i 
 
 HAVE been under shell fire and I have 
 gone "over the top." I was often nervous, but 
 I did not know what Fear was until after- 
 wards. 
 
 When the war was over and I found myself 
 alive and well, I began to look forward with 
 certainty to seeing my wife and children again. 
 I was careful not to contract a cold for fear 
 that it would delay my departure for home. 
 
 Shortly before sailing I was alone in a hotel 
 in Brest. One night I had chills and fever, 
 and a cough and pains in my chest, and I 
 thought I was getting pneumonia. 
 
 Was this to be the reward for my priva- 
 tions? 
 
 Loneliness; the futility of such an end, came 
 over me like a pall. 
 
 I felt like a rat suffocating in a trap; I was 
 Afraid. 
 
 [«S] 
 
IGNORANCE 
 
 OHE was a young American girl and was 
 given full opportunity of seeing and knowing 
 any boy who came along. For some reason 
 her parents — who did not know life fully 
 themselves at forty — thought she was old 
 enough to take care of herself. 
 
 She met a boy who after one look in her 
 eyes, and one look at her filmy dress, "loved 
 her at sight." 
 
 She danced with him all evening — snug- 
 gling. His intense eyes fluttered her. When 
 he told her he was "crazy about her," she was 
 thrilled and "knew she was in love." 
 
 She had always pictured herself as loving 
 a wonderful man. Therefore if she loved 
 him, he must be wonderful and noble, and all 
 that was good. 
 
 As a matter of fact, he was only a lizard, 
 and her parents told her so. 
 
 She resented their "prejudice" and he be- 
 came a hero. 
 
 The French have had centuries of experi- 
 ence in these matters. Can we learn some- 
 thing from them? 
 
 [126] 
 
PRECIOUS STONES 
 
 THE PERFECT PEARL 
 
 I 
 
 T matters not whether she lived in 1820; or 
 whether she lived in Jerusalem, Cairo, Naples, 
 New York or Des Moines. 
 
 She was what Dumas called a Woman of 
 the Hearth, 
 
 She looked forward to having a home of 
 her own with a loving husband and babies. 
 To have children was her main instinct. She 
 married and had several of them. 
 
 Her passion for them was stronger than 
 hunger and thirst. To have her baby at her 
 breast was her heaven on earth. She adored 
 her husband as her mate and as the father of 
 her children. There had been a psychic at- 
 traction between them as soon as they had 
 met, and it was followed by understanding and 
 esteem. She loved with the love of sentiment 
 and self-sacrifice. 
 
 Another Man came along. It matters not 
 whether he was fine or rotten, sincere or in- 
 sincere. It matters not whether he spoke of 
 love or only looked it. 
 
 She was the type in which the maternal in- 
 stinct is strongest. 
 
 [ 127] 
 
She was also the type that could love but 
 one man, and she had married that man and 
 respected him. 
 
 She pushed the second from her in horror 
 as a loathsome serpent who might break up 
 the Home. 
 
 THE UNFORTUNATE RUBY 
 
 She was like the pearl: She might have lived 
 any time or anywhere; and although she was 
 embarked on a career, she was also a Woman 
 of the Hearth. 
 
 She met a man who she thought was her 
 Mate, and gave up her career and was married. 
 She loved him madly and jealously. 
 
 They never Understood and Trusted each 
 other. 
 
 They quarreled frequently — afterwards 
 falling in each other's arms with tears and 
 gluttonous kisses. They loved fiercely and 
 selfishly. 
 
 She flirted with another merely to make 
 him jealous. He had a liaison with another 
 woman. Love turned to Hate. 
 
 They were divorced. She married the other 
 who was very kind to her and understood her. 
 
 Sometimes at night her blood turns to flame 
 when she thinks of the Man she hates. 
 
 [128] 
 
THE DISAPPOINTED DIAMOND 
 
 She was also a Woman of the Hearth, but 
 she did not seem to meet her Mate. A fine 
 fellow fell in love with her in the good old- 
 fashioned way. She appreciated it. She ap- 
 preciated him and became his wife. 
 
 She was a perfect woman and a dutiful wife. 
 Her children were an obsession with her. She 
 would not leave them for a night. 
 
 He was unhappy sometimes: he did not just 
 know why. Perhaps she was not "tempera- 
 mental." 
 
 One day she met Him, and saw love in 
 his eyes. She was not horrified; but though 
 she was strong, she was terrified. 
 
 Her character was like a strong anchor to 
 a windswept ship. Without hesitation — lest 
 it be too late — she fled from him. 
 
 Her husband never knew. She was always 
 kind and dutiful. He thought she gave him 
 all she was capable of giving. 
 
 He would frequently observe other fellows' 
 wives, pat himself on the back, and exclaim, 
 "I know how to keep a woman's love." 
 
 THE FLAWFUL OPAL 
 
 There was a fourth Woman of the Hearth 
 and she married for money when she was very 
 
 [ 129] 
 
young. Some say she was forced to do it by 
 her parents. 
 
 She was devoted to her children. She was 
 proud of them. She was proud of herself. 
 
 She had been sheltered by her parents. She 
 was sheltered by her husband. She seemed 
 to do right as a matter of course. 
 
 She had a kind heart and was very chari- 
 table. Her Charities resulted in deprivations 
 for her husband — not for herself — but she 
 did not realize this. 
 
 One night she met a man at dinner who 
 filled her with electric shocks. The shocks 
 must have injured her eyesight, because she 
 thought he was a Dear, whereas all men knew 
 him to be a Rotter. 
 
 She had never known temptation: she had 
 no resistance. She subjected herself to more 
 electric shocks which nearly blinded her. 
 
 The Dear (the Rotter) spoke of her duty 
 to her children; she thought him Fine. 
 
 He said they must have a liaison that would 
 injure no one, and she thought him Noble. 
 
 [ 130] 
 
THE WOMAN WHO DOES NOT 
 WANT BABIES 
 
 A 
 
 LTHOUGH she is a well-known type, 
 she is hard to describe: she has so many 
 varieties. If temperamental, she raises sev- 
 eral kinds of hell. If she is untemperamental, 
 she is called a coquette, and may raise other 
 kinds of hell. If she is endowed with the 
 average amount of temperament, she may 
 raise something just as bad as hell (and there 
 are a few things in life just as bad). 
 
 This particular one had the average tem- 
 perament and met her "Affinity" or her 
 "Mate." She seemed to be drawn to him by 
 a higher will than her own. 
 
 She could not "understand" him, but she 
 "adored" him. No other man had any real 
 interest for her, because no other man could 
 give her so much of what she wanted. 
 
 She was jealous, selfish, unsentimental, un- 
 maternal, and undomestic. She loved him for 
 the Thrills he gave her. 
 
 She was never quite completely happy un- 
 less she felt that she was attractive to men. 
 
 A few months after marriage, the Vibrations 
 grew less intense. 
 
 [131] 
 
Now, she has a Lover and simulates feeling 
 for her husband. 
 
 If she gets "lonely" again, she will get an- 
 other Man. 
 
 [ 132 ] 
 
THE HYBRID 
 
 i 
 
 F I should attempt to closely classify women, 
 I should not know just where to place Her. 
 
 She was "mad" about Him, and their en- 
 gagement to be married was shortened twice 
 by her, so that she could more quickly become 
 his wife. She adored their son when he ar- 
 rived, and it was difficult to persuade her to 
 leave him for a few hours in the care of the 
 old family nurse. 
 
 Another man came along, and she became 
 "mad" about him. She would cheerfully have 
 left her husband if it had not been for the 
 baby. Her maternal instinct was strong. 
 
 There was a third man, and she was "dis- 
 illusioned" again. 
 
 Her husband became famous. 
 
 She was very vain. 
 
 She became "mad" about him. 
 
 [i33] 
 
LOVE 
 
 11 IS presence had always thrilled her. She 
 had always loved his body — his touch. His 
 smile was her sunshine. 
 
 At first she was jealous. Then, she Under- 
 stood: she knew he was hers — Always. She 
 wanted him to have everything so that he 
 would Give her more. Her heart was always 
 crying out: I want you. She told him she 
 loved him madly. 
 
 Her feeling became ecstatic. She noticed 
 the birds singing in the morning. She trem- 
 bled before the sunsets. She was feverish at 
 moonlight. She wanted to make sacrifices for 
 his happiness. 
 
 She no longer cared whether he Gave. She 
 could not refrain from caressing him. She 
 would not let him Give as much as she Gave. 
 Her love was faith. Everything about him 
 was beautiful to her. She loved with the love 
 of beauty. 
 
 Their souls no longer stood alone. They 
 were one. 
 
 She wanted them to Be, to Do, to Feel. 
 
 When he was compelled to leave her for 
 awhile, she hoped he would not be unhappy. 
 
 [ 134 1 
 
She hoped that other people would partially 
 satisfy him. 
 
 He wrote her all that he was Doing: she 
 was thrilled by it. He wrote her all that he 
 was Feeling: she Felt it — her blood turned 
 to flame. She wanted him to Feel everything. 
 She wanted to Feel all he Felt. 
 
 She Loved him. The flame of their sunsets 
 was followed by Starlight. 
 
 [i3Sl 
 
HIS PRAYER 
 
 w, 
 
 HEN he was a boy, he prayed to God 
 in his own words every night. 
 
 He became a man and Reasoned. 
 
 He studied all the religions of the world. 
 
 His prayer remained the same: 
 
 "Thou Great Consciousness of which I am 
 a part, help me to draw on Thy Great Power. 
 
 "Help me to realize that the way of life is 
 simple: that I am fulfilling my destiny and 
 obtaining happiness by doing what I know is 
 right. 
 
 "Help me to make my ideals real in the 
 midst of the crowd." 
 
 [136] 
 
THE LOVELIEST GARDEN 
 
 w, 
 
 HAT do you think of these Bits of 
 Life?" I asked my friend. 
 
 She hesitated. Then she said: 
 
 "They are too critical — too cynical. One 
 reading them would think you had not known 
 the best type of women." 
 
 "Do you think my painting called 'Love' 
 is cynical?" I asked, — "and how about 'The 
 Perfect Pearl'?" 
 
 "But they are exceptions," — she answered, 
 "and they are too idealistic. In your Fore- 
 word you write of 'lovely gardens.' I don't 
 find many of them among these 'Bits.' " 
 
 "I have not described many of them: I have 
 not found many. Besides, I wanted to write 
 of things that I could criticise. I wanted to 
 point out the rocks that lie half -hidden — 
 waiting to wreck us. 
 
 I could write a larger volume about men. 
 
 I have loved a woman with such a love as 
 I have described. 
 
 I always called her my Perfect Pearl. 
 
 We met at a dinner in Nice and we spent 
 the following day motoring. 
 
 It was a day of wondrous beauty. 
 
 We left for Monte Carlo early in the morn- 
 
 [ *37] 
 
ing and drove for miles along the curving 
 rocky coast — with the Mediterranean on one 
 side and the mountains on the other. 
 
 We had luncheon at Monte Carlo and sat 
 for an hour in the Garden there, — with the 
 deep-blue sky and the deep-blue sea always 
 showing through the fresh green of the 
 foliage. 
 
 We sat facing each other and I knew I had 
 met Her. 
 
 We motored further — to Mentone. Then 
 we returned along the crests of the mountains 
 we had seen from below. One picture after 
 another was unfolded — until I closed my 
 eyes feeling I could not look at so much 
 beauty in one day. 
 
 Then I would open them and look at Her. 
 That was even harder to bear. 
 
 I knew that she was feeling all that I felt. 
 I was waiting for an opportunity of taking 
 her in my arms. 
 
 At one place we saw a green wooded penin- 
 sula jutting into the blue sea: at another, 
 Monte Carlo nesting at the foot of a ravine: 
 and at another a huge grey rock surrounded 
 by the blue waters, with a chateau perched 
 on it — looking like a toy from the distance. 
 We could see the sea and into Italy on one 
 
 [138] 
 
side, and valleys and snow-capped mountains 
 on the other. 
 
 The colors were always blue, green, grey 
 and white. 
 
 We visited some old Roman ruins, with the 
 stone arches so decayed that vines were grow- 
 ing from them. 
 
 We walked over queerly paved streets and 
 through deserted houses. 
 
 We came to a deserted Garden. Old stone 
 walls. Ivy. Sunlight. Moss. 
 
 I did not ask her anything. 
 
 I took her in my arms. 
 
 It was the loveliest Garden I have ever 
 known. 
 
 It was a blending of beauty and love — a 
 blending of lips — a blending of souls — 
 under God's blue sky." 
 
 [ 139] 
 
AFTERWORD 
 
 M 
 
 ANY of these studies deal with "worldly" 
 people — with people whose ideals are not 
 high — with people whose main interest is 
 in material things — with people whose life is 
 mostly of the senses. With them marriage is 
 nearly always a failure. They become cyni- 
 cal, sceptical or flippant because there is some- 
 thing wrong within themselves. 
 
 On the other hand, sometimes high ideals 
 are founded on a very limited knowledge of 
 human nature. Sometimes they are founded 
 on an exaggerated notion of our individual 
 possibilities here on earth. If so, they may 
 be "shattered." 
 
 Is it not better to know life as it is, — as 
 young as we are able to understand it? Can 
 it do us any harm to learn the truth? If we 
 know life's material limitations, and its spiri- 
 tual possibilities, will we not stand a better 
 chance of making our own one of permanent 
 beauty? 
 
 THE END 
 
 [ 140] 
 
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