Evening Star Newspaper, January 31, 1926, Page 84

THE SUNDAY STAR. WASHINGTON, D. C. JANUARY 31, A Bachelor in Biarritz By HOLWORTHY HALL Everything About Miss Osborne and Her Mother Suggested Family and Wealth. tw arrived you in put Osborues rritz——which, th in the the queen of be: the beach of kings—at tha crest of the Summer season. By the same train there came a letter from the manager of an Americun bank in Paris to one of his subordinates, a voung blade with sociul connections, ) happened to be in Biarritz on a is call on Mrs. D. G. Osborne and Miss Osborne of Malachl, Ohio, at the Hotel du Palais, and see that they have suitable introductions. This | their first trip abroad. and they have no friends in that vicinity. Their accounts are important. I will greatly appreciate any courtesy you ay show these valuable clients.” The subordinate, Minot. was an- noyed. en so. he dragged himselt to the Palals and presented his crg- dentials. To his relief, Mrs. D, Oshorne wasn't in the leust redolent of Malachi, Ohio, but as soon as he saw the daughter he forgot both the mother and the bank. They kept him for tea and he vited them to dine at the Chatexn Rasque the following evening. They ran nto a party of the right people. and. with = Minot serving the Wyphen, joined it before the dancing began. Miss Osborne drew plenty of atten- tion, bhut there was one man in par- ticular who seemed hardly shle to remove his gaze from her. Inevitably she was aware of this. but since he had by far the most pungent person - ality in the entire group, she wasn't mortally injured by it. He was tall and lean and leathery: hisx eyes were black and keenly discernin was bluck: his chin v a noticenble cleft in it. easily, but satd little, an unusually soft volce. Iis attitude 5 xed that it was almost inz. and vet it suggested mus- repose and nerve control rather slugzishness. liss Osborne p w report upon this vidual. “Wh not Vhy, awfully well, clse. They square. with and then in <o rel Aptly demandeq ni indi >elhs M- Coleord don’'t know him nd o does evervhody call him the profession All he does is to watch ©'s battle from the side-lines. You »uldn’t suspect it. would you? He somewhere." In the meantime Colcord was con- 15 with Mrs. Osborne vou're from Ohlo, Mrs. Os- chi ine old village. perh drive from Cleveland.” “T'm sorry region ut your home said the stately 23 the property oniy about a 120. Before that we were in But Dorothy and I agreed that we wanted a permanent resi- deuce in the country, and Malachl is perfect. We motor into town for ec- casions, or shopping, and apart from that we are guite contented on our own little estate.” From ker description it was evident 1t's a charm- ps an hour's 1. Has it always been year Chic that the Gshornes dwelt in manertal | style, and that 15 one who s rd ughter He continued to parley with Mrs. rne until 11 o’cloc! or wather strolled out—a waltz daughter Dorothy Mrs. Osborne herself orned the vulgar herd. wondered if the enticing shared her mother's intol- * % ¥ % INOW Miss Osborne, notwithstanding bulletin she had had from was still incredulous; and when the Minot Colcord succeeded in persuading her | that he really didnt dance she was still_convinced that his cenversation would be epic. But to her complets astonishment he conducted himself like an unwilling witness in a court of Jaw. Q. H Mr. Coleord A. Ma Q. Oh here in the Spring! b Mr. Coleord? Or are A. An apartment, Nest Q. Oh! The Elephant's Nest! And your family's here with you? A. 1 haven't any. Q. Oh! Well, we only got here yes terday. hut from what I've seen of it i’s too utterly enchanting. Don't you find it sog A. Not bad. Q. Oh, don't be so blase! With the best sociery In Europe and every pos- sible thing in the world to do—and oh. by the way, Mr. Colcord, I've ve you been in Biarritz long, When did you come? ave vou a villa ou in # hotel? The Blephant's advertisements, | hes and | his hair | He smiled | to say I don't know that | . when he sat | this point the story ought 1o get past the censor, 1 should think.” “Oh, it isn't any story:” cord. “Just that one night a flock of greasers jumped us in camp, and when 1 went to get up and he inhos pituble 1 found I'd left my Euns out fivelight, while the visiting committee practiced at me. That's all. 1w Just quoing it as an example.” Miss Osborne wus tantalizing. do T make vou feel as futile that? T didn't know 1 was so sistible.” “But whimsicully, “that under tire T was a wighty fast crawler.” [lis smile widened. “And [ may be vet “Aren’t the Mexicans terribly | shots, though?" she asked demurely. “Well, that's that. and we'll begin all over. Only 1 want you to talk about you. Oh, I don't mean you soul and your last operation, Lut well, how ix it you don’t do the things everybody else dues?" | He smiled. h—1 don't know Maybe for the sume reason that every body else hasn't done the same Lhings I Lave. Take voursell. Cun you throw a rope? 1 can.’ Jh. that reminds me,” meant to ask you what doing in Mexico “That time? snake-shooter ne.” “And irre she said, 1 You were 1 was boss pucker and for u prospecting outl But if you're a lawyer You must have gone to college, didn't you?" “Yes,” he sald. “T went to the Eu reka College of Commerce and Law, in ansas City. 1 was In the class of | 1916, on the night =hirt Daytimes I had ‘a steady jol She didn’t repeat this conver to her mother, for there were ¢ topies on which they weren't comi- pletely in accord, and there was no purpose in anticipating trouble. Rut Colcord himself enlightened Mrs. Os- borne before the week wus ou After having heen entertained the Osbornes, he took them to dine the Hermitage, where the dauchter's misgtvings were vealized In bulk At ordering a dinner. which is an art” suld Mrs. Osborne gractousl “you are a past master, Mr. Colcord.” He smiled. “Well, [ reckon I ought to be. For two vears | was captain of walters in u hotel.” Dorothy winced. while her mother | fumbled for Le ettes. “Oh! Are u one of those amazing young men who worked their way through university ? “No, Mrs. Osborne; only through a commercal law factory. But 1 was a | gax inspector then. This was before- { hand, when 1 was Scratehing to muke up for not having gone to high school | T started driving the station hus, {then T got promoted.” | * % # tion by | SHE didn't alter her demeancr to ard him; she was his guest | she said impressively grant that Mr. good-looking |4nd that he was properly int but who Is he, and what i Dorothy had been prepared for this, | but she was rufed nevertheless. “Oh. mother! You think over some of the men you haven't objected to—because all you could see was their family and thelr clrcumstances. You remember our last Winter in Chicago!” Her mother stiffened. “Doroth *“Of course they were gentlemen- long as you were around. All men are. But when you weren't there and they could be as free as they chose——" “Dorothy, said her mother, “I was under the tmpression that I had vour promise mot to refer to that subject again, either to me or to any one else.” That closed the discussion, but Mrs. Osborne resolved to inform herself of walters in Kansas City soclally at large in Biarritz. The results of her sleuthing didn't cheer her. Indeed, she was told noth ing which she hadn't known in ad vance. was handsome, affable, obliging, a reliable spectator, a safe man with dehbutantes and an’ anchor- Was now \ He it must have been marvelous | i heird the most amazing thing about | vou, and I simply won't T'H beifevs you don’t dunce—although I've got to admit it was a frightful tax on my bhellevability—but what do vou do? What's your specfalty A. Nothing. Q. No. truly! Men like you don't come oll the way o Biarritz just for the sake of riding the choo-choo cars su here for goif or the polo er the bathing or what?” A. Nothing. Q. You don't do sports whatsoever” A. None whatsoever. . (Helplessly) Don't you eve: Colcord stared at her blank Miss Oshorne he said. afrnid 1 1aus fng “T'm afraid so, 100, she sald sweet 1v ax she veered toward the chateau “But 1 st we_ought to be golng anyhow. This s Mr. Minot's dance t's coming.” sieps were “Oh, my believe it! only at’s aunt’ he suld What have 1 done—gone ed you right at the com- mencement? Without even commenc- ing” This wis the precise effect that she had counted upon. It would bring him 1o her later with the positive otliga- tion to open and sustain the dialogue. And men are rarely o confidential as when they have just finished apologiz- ing. In the doorway she deluyed for an instant. “But un ordinary saline so- Tution,” she <aid wickedly, “if used as a gargle three times a day, is very heneficial to the vocal cords. vou please try it, Mr. Colcord, be. fore we meet again?’ Then she su- mated the pill. “Because I'm sure we going to meet again—aren’t we?" P % {1k next time that he saw the Os. bornes was on the Grand Plage, i the fashionable bathing hour. The Osbornes today were merely onlook- ers: they asked him to sit with them. Well," said Miss Osborne kindly, “have you tried the saline solution vet. Mr. Colcord?” iie nodded. “In buckets. 1 reckon 7 couldn’t have been in top form last night.” Her eyes were provoking. “f thought maybe you were shocked by oy unmaidenly overtures. But you see. I was waiting for you to go ahead and be fascinating. So now you've zot another opportunity, why, o ahead!” Fle gave her one of his quick smiles. ““That remark makes me feel about as futile as I did down in Mexico once. £ “AVell,” said Miss Osborne, “‘up to Won't | < a few yards AFTER HAVING BEEN ENTER- TAINED BY THE OSBORNES, ! HE TOOK THEM TO DINE AT | THE HERMITAGE, WHERE THE | DAUGHTER'S MISGIVINGS WERE REALIZED IN BULK. age for matrons; he kept his appoint- { more could you expect from a bachelor in Biarritz? ‘The worst of it was that aside from her maternal qualms, she thought him charming. Simultaneously Colcord was giving board and lodging to various qualms of his own. Often he wondered what the two Osbornes would say and how much of their benevolence would vanish if he blurted out the balance of the truth which was oppressing him. The Osbornes, by this juncture, were in midcareer. They had become persons of considerable mark; they were even prominent enough to be mildly gossiped about. But despite the glamour and acclaim, and the fervid worship_of Ted Minot, Miss Osborne still alldtted Colcord a fraction of all evenings which found them under the same roof, and she still walked with him, now and then, in the afternoons. “You know,” he said, “there are | times when I just have to exert my resistless will fo the utmost to make sure this is true. If anybody'd told me 10 years ago that 1'd ever ba parad- ing around Biarritz, France, and have friends like you and your mother, why, {T'd have rung for the police to take away the Munatic.’ ‘“‘Yes,” she said, “it must be a won- derful sensation to feel that everything nu'n;ot. you've really earned.” the | how it came about that one who had | S0 recently been chaperoning a squad poor | nume- reain | | what | my hind legs and paw But | when she was alone with her daughter | goun.- ments and paid his bills, and what | | “But sald Col- | of reach and both my feet were asleep. | S0 1 had to crawl for it through the and vour judgment s | was this way | another little drin Lis head introspectively. isn't_quite correct. Why, with the war com- | ing in, I've only hud 5 years! But I've | ad some lck—in lund deuls. That isn’'t_unyihing to be puffed up about, is i Why, if ¥ He shook that could it be? 1 used vour intelligence didn’t,” said Coleord. It I had a client who was broke, so instead of a fee he assigned me an option he had on some land. “But 1 s ull |@ vear that land had edged right into town. so Instead of a $100 fee T made $5.000. So I speculated on another I discovered,” said Colcord | Parcel and made another profit and then I joined u kind of syndicate-—and now I'm in Blarvitz. I'm a pretty fair lawyer- | could always make a living but I've been lucky. And you show me unybody that's proud of luck and T'll show you somebody | ean't under- and.” HE end of Minot's was now peeking around the corner, wherefore Minot was skirmishing on the frontier of iphecility. And when Dorothy wus o maddeningly elusive toward him, what did it mean? Where did he stund? At about this perind Coleord and Miss Osborne wundered down the hard cked beach to IHbarritz, and dis- covered. halfway up the steep cliffs. a pocket of sand where they could sit and_conterplate the milex of curling surf which give these shores their the Coast of Silver. said musingly “There's thing you've never spoken a about. Not w word. But in all thes ventures of vours, hasn't ther the least tiny bit of sentiment?” He smiled. Y he said, *! and that was plenty enough “Oh! Was it a long time ago” No. it wasn't. But you couldn't hardly blame her. anyhow. You know my record’s bheen nd I'm not i of She wouldn't have en, her: she had to work But. then, her folks fell into too much money all of a sudden, =o we couldn’t sesm to talk the same kanzuage And that was that. Only 14 kind of sount ed on her, so it was quite tump,"” Miss Osborne was siftine through her tingers “*She really have cared for you money we in’t have n est difference. would it deserve you You'd do get her.” “Funny vacation She one word 1. been s, once— hett Miss Oshorne went he sand. “Was that ur breakdown? His eves were vacant ! Just becuuse on wir what—led expression I don't rise up on ? Look at_me! I haven't seen 4 man in Biar wouldn't undertake to lay on k in two minutes.’ “You're not fooling me Misss Osborne, under her breath You'd been under a terrible strain—and then this happened—; then you broke and then ame over here far v from her as ¥ could. Didn't you He smiled. “Who do vou think you are—Mme. Zozo, the mystic sorceress of Egyptl. consultatlons 50 cents s to wet u HIZ Osbornes, AMinot, motored for a long week end time t Colcord saw Tuesday evening escorted to San so that them was on \ sino. Virtuous! can by sitting out a fox trot with the mother. At the soonest opportunity he strolled out toward the main entrance. In the foyer he was waylaid by Theo- dore Minot “Two words," tially. said Minot confiden- “Vital to me. Coleord surveved him impassively. “You're one over the eight already, Ted." They tound waiter. “Well,’ gnawing you?” Minot pulled himself together. “It's this way, Pelhnam. You don't mind if I call you a dog, do you? No, because you're red-minded broad-blood- ed American. But you're dog in the ointment “What?" said Colcord. Minot gestured with a flourish. “Oh, very high-class dog, but—come to dances, don't dance; come to golf club, don't golf; come to polo field, don't polo—just be a fly in the manger. And here my vacation’s rushin’ trag. ically to a tragic close, and—and I was at San Sebastian. Well 2" “Well, don’t do it! Listen, Pelham— Saturday 1 depart. And naming no names, don't sit out any more dances with Dorothy—let me crash in, I'm cold sober, Pelham. But I'm gm s secluded recess and a said Colcord, “what's Two words—and | How | anr | blinking b | have propesed to h | Why | money! | showdown, | srouna do the Municipal Ca- |y Tt st liquor, Tm-well, man to man, you going'to plug my game or not? I'n just asking you to be human, that's all.” Colcord’s eves were wiis saying to himself: “Why, the poor ard! What does he take at San Sebastian he must L and she stalled. stall? Oh, but she 1s a her mother! But her we've got to have a maybe tonight’s the pin-points. e me for. But did she Eut But and deur! night He stood up. human you'd be don’t crowd me. hoy. sev man who was raised the way 1 your proposition sounds lunguid But U'll mull it over and let vou know Now is that a fair noti He saun, tered buck to the baliroom Miss Osborne greeted him cordially i indicated the neighboring chair, but he said, “No, let’s go out and get some ozone From the the wooden At length she said demurely e you thinkinzg of taking up iin To tell the was king of ke up “Everything meun Well « daddy. That And there wis wainland they went foothridge to the cross Virgin “Well, rgling truth,” said Coleord, 1 wondering if 1 wouldn't everything again © What does nost that You 1 used o play golf one moved to Texas 1 wus when I was 13 thme when 1 could dance pretty well, too. That w when 1 was about And I conld always fork a horse anyway. But I wouldn't do it except for ene reason—and that would be to please you. Would ft2™ asked Col rd Her heart “Ye! she said very much.” “It's u risk, thougl Is it? Why Well ™ he quickened it w perilously. 1 please me suid bantering!y werr fullowing your prescrip e Kind of ot vour wmercy @ And then suppose 1 went with vou 1 ons 1'd ldn't 17 wd (el In cdn't do that. neces he suid when the And I've wasn't trouble never know £ to bite. tha But hat you cussed germ's Lad one expert od, and T don't carbon copy would ha St 1 motionless vou're afraid 1 1 he sald. 11 it you'd only play s strade “Oh! You don't think I have. then? Why, it's like this,” he sid, with more seriousness. Al joking aside we've got wlong pretty smoothly, but I've always been in a kind of u special class. You couldn’t really measure me up against the vest of the herd: [ was separ But the minute 1 throw a £ over i pony. or swing a driver, ¢ try to be a hoofer. why, you'd have to mike different compurisons. I'd just any what S t chance i as 1 do. | | better go to b be one entry in a bix field. How long | do vou reckon 1'd Wiy — “In plain_ Bnglish compete with thes you think y ting that n st it 1 their own it poor she s “No, but suppose you'd had to work with your hands for a living, and then found yourself in my place today. Ashamed of it? Not likely! But this is Biarritz, and I'm myself, and you're you, and the other people are what they are. So it’s your say—and go on and say it. Do I, or don't I? Her head was averted. “For every: thing you did—when you were strug: gling so hard—I truly respect you. Can 1 say anything more than that?" He laughed. “Why, I don't know. Can’t you?" She shook her head and waited to be contradicted. If he had kissed her she would have revealed to him, in a rush of tears, infinitely more than he de- manded.” She would even have broken her promise to her mother. But to I her chagrin she heard the scratching {of a match. He had lighted another cigarette. “Well, that's fine,” sald Colcord. “That settles a lot. And don't get | worrled about what I sald back there; I'm not going to be idiotic. I'm sort of anchored to a dream anyhow—you know. But you've been a good little pal, and I just didn't want to change my spots without being sure you'd like the new pattern.” He glanced at his watch. “Wow! We've got to travel! Ted Minot'll be after my scalp. He's u‘sood €gg. One of the best.” {low | I¢ “Oh, yes," sald Miss Osborne He took her to the Casino, where he sald In Minot's ear: “Go to it, old boy swinging wide now and you're on rafl" Pelham, vou're a_prince!” cord, yawning. “I'm beauty, and I'm golng ome and do my stuff.” | Miss Oshorne, | the sleeping i<ht He left at midnight howey was 80 gny and tireless that she remained until’ the final bleat of lonwest-winded saxophone. Also she twice went out to roam in the i rude with, Minot This peased lier mother, ou seemed to be having an espe- cinlly good time tonight, dear.” she | +aid when they were in their suite, | “Did 17" Dorothy swmiled. “Well guess that proves I ought to hav been an actress “Why. how so ‘Oh. T don't know! I'm so sick of all th ng’s genuine— nothing were back in Maluchi—or cags he kicked off her Why do we have to stay Wy Ter mothes her Why. I theught we'd n very delightrul acquaihtanc Ar. Minot, and “Oh, there av 1 e said Dorothy sham! noth- 1 wish we even Chi Hppe heve, un nd erebrows. nt some Lere! people evervwhere! esides”—she wormed out of a four hundred-dollar frock esides. 1 ju: refused Ted about an hour wgo Mrs. Osborne zasped You what Dorothy made a grimace All T want is to get out of this hot nouse atmosphere. Tt hoves | Let's | g0 somewhere else “L think,” swid Mrs. Osbory 1 sigh for the lost Minot, “that ed. We'll talk it o ' with | ‘d ir the morning Dorvothy went to her own room and cried untl dawn. But by noon she had gatned her point. She had aded her mother 1o rate end of the week | Miss Osborne 1 wii Coleord hid seen othing but the vari exir hav [ nd ihe wasn't wouldn't pre HIUSE cer f her p odd that express anacec fons of in R Yet, Personally slie ever saw him again On the last afternoon wilk with her mother srdinary been extruordina onditions. Hut since he have had some rumor ns, she did th ther he hadn't come her o his sorrow. Odd. not to say intable. in view of his protesta- | triendship on th er ainl speciully it whether | she went to and us they miliar figure emerged fro in front of them. It w rah “ART said Mrs, where you live, docto: making a call? “T wus making & call on vours.” said McGarrah. cord.’” “Mr., ord? Is he il Dorothy had lost color. mean—he’s broken down The doctor stared gain? You seem to b far from it. And took # tumble downst: n not to go out. bhut Palais, Osborne. or “Is this | were you | friend of “Pelbam Col- | w don't he 1 wanted to suppose to beuutiful the “But then " “I've bribed the coneierge’s wife k in on him once in I can find somebody.” Miss Osborne wus breathir Doctor,” she said, “if—it 1 nything— hank you McGarrah dryly, amateur alre:dy “I'm going to “Where is he? “Why." said MeGarrah, “he’s on the top floor. But I'm very much wfraid you can't see him just vet." “Why not?” “Well.”" he said. “for one thing ause I won't take you np there.” who's taking care to while until rapidly could do Miss Osborne,” suid |’ but I've got one And then— | him,” she said floor? v What midw bl sist w knees she wius say Id have girl when you wel 1926—PART 5. o ¥ SHE SAID, MUSINGEY : “BUT myselt the after tiht ind pi on “Ther s e I'he Il g0 by out of loctor in Sl 1 sight it 3 darted the first ssed doorw o he W upper tve mir ked b g i Mr s 1o cha On the thr d Mrs. Oslorne 01 st st Elephant sed her ou'd bet handle nature neither thew eavesdropper. but for e both zuiity. Dorothy with her arm supporting ard’'s head. “Oh, my dear. my dear “It was for mother i} could once they was on her s how known “But there " sadd ( mean ithe 1 . make vou d vou th S0 Aubberg tell me first ni ted t th, my dear. 1'd prom have known vou And how could 1 ha you meant me?’ Then 1 sort I'd given vou u housand chinces to el m nd I ¢ dn’t go further I thought you cared mc the zlit- - than you did for as so me-sided.” 1'd told everythin out myself. and you—then 1 heard going away. so I tried to get to the Pala and— Oh. hush, dear. hush: Ii's ight now! On t Roc oh, if Iy understood:” She kissed him Dr. MeGarr took Mrs, ( very firmly by elbow ck to the lit lon, Csborne very h lips w borne 1 d her was her rect and were trem breakdown T IN ALL THESE ADVENTURES OF LEAST BIT OF SENTIMENT?™ Thr sensi hut for disizraes And desperate too. Thinks e months ago ive wbout it @ man of his physique it's t's why he preferred to % explained, 't an amateur | | during mother | ntrite turned but I > of the I was ed back | mother—FPel of the Cimar- ng hiatus Doroth to her rily expectant. p Iy tender. Then NS nd whe e vears.” o Alrs. Osbor: ham's a vies ron Ofl C Mrs. “And president 1 Osborne quivered and cheeks 16 down e . well,” he’s going to own son-in-law—-" hy swallowed hard. “You s McGarrah, with some dif mother was never keen s into nu anyway t it don’t!” said Mrs. Osborne shak It's all ov I'm tired of pretend 1 i could keep up— ind 1 did love being somebody over here—and T did hope you'd marry into rand family—but, doctor, 1 was Lake Hospital r 20 years! We tuke your casc together. There, Dor othy re goes society! And—and it Was just getting so it wasn't hardly uny strain! AMrs, Osborne chief. othy pr promise. the were were s pathw she said ‘MUI on my didn’t “Oh i sought It was my fault. to tell her were her handker- 1 made Do I made her to have a it the lake ey str on some lind ind—he died when Dorothy baby—bought for nothing in | when he was u young man | And the Cimarron | it from us. and we And went down near 1 to get away from gossip and all. Oh, I have fe new-rich YOURS { tha 08 e HASN'T THERE BEEN THE 1 I've | and whe such « peopls would the popula gossip th bef had wo He been hor re 1 e ( trust vou that cludiy I know so. And ca e now while I run for half an hour? Then 1'll be in agait and I'll send up everything you'll war And, Miss D Yoniy best wishes forever. Mrs, Osborne, I congratulat you He hur friend Col that morni been so flow her ming out ¢ fage than f that r himself could med of <h; ard bornes b And then Me( the v e herse he ever - And always s throus that the O: fortune been most fortuitc the Osl Mr spirat¥or To be k 1 » what he could abot sure rtistic his office Bayoune two nurses n well t No. I won't need ht 1026 ) Character Revealed in Eyes Enables Expert to Change Failure to Success BY KENNETH WILLIAMS. As Told to Prosper Buranelli. )T, to Y P e are a character anal u form judgments of peo You size up eve meet. In every proje You meditate your “reading’ of the persons involved vital | part. Your opinions ar on basis of action and behavior. of course but if you were limited to that you would be badly off fndeed. You get a good deal of information out of peo- Dle’s faces—this one is untrustworthy, another is too stolid, and still anoth er is intelligent but licking in earnest ness. It you will observe your own mind | you Will be astonished at the extent | to which people’s e on a_person ey Instinctively you feel that these | give you the best clue to his thoughts. | They vield an impression of charac: | | one | n has a made al ter, too. To a certain extent you.rea- son upon simple, consclous premises— eves have an expression of candor or they are uneasy and furtive, or they are bold and alert. But even more you get something from eyes that you do not understand. And if pressed for an explanation vou could only fall} back on the verb ‘“felt.” I am professedly a character an- alyst, and I do my work by studying people’s eyes. 1 have found that your eyes will give me the clue to your soul. It is partly a process of con- sclous observation and reasoning, but there is an element thdt I don't under- stand, and I can only say that I feel. What results do I get? What experi- ences do I have? The best answer I can glve is to relate a few incidents. I was a factory production manager and was making a success at that pro- fession. It was to be seen that I had 2 knack at handling men and getting results out of them. I realized more and more that my secret was that I could penetrate the temperaments of men and then manage #O as to estab- lish a personal relation that kept them contented and full of good will. Fur- ther, I was conscious that I was being gulded by a study of their eyes. One day I was offered a new and better post, and took it. My employer spoke to me candidly. His was a dress | goods manufactory not long in opera- tion and he employed several hundred girl operatives. “You will have a difficult time of it here,” he sald. “I myselt am at my wits® end. 1 can’t get normal produc- tion out of the girls. They are mal- ingering, and I can't find any way to_stop it." ‘When he took me throj We CaIle across several h the plant who were tilking ilking ing, anc ind laughing instead of work he spoke sharply to them ed ¥, sulien and resent When we were back in the fu said It is because yvou hum liate and of- fend them by talkin; harshly to Nu.” he veplied earnestly. “it is only of late since 1 have lost ull pa tience that 1 am cross with them began by trving to be a model em ployer. "I made it my rule to treat the girls with the utmost courtesy and Kindness and to do everything 1 could for them. I installed every mod ern device for their comfort, went i for recreation plans, initiated a policy of indulgence for hours off. and so on They merely took advantage of my mildness and ran wild. 1 decided had been too easy with them and tried sternness. 1 have made them obey the rules and have discharged those 1 saw were troublemakers. Tt has had no effect. They do what mis- chief they can, and production re- mains backward." I took hold and found things in quite as bad a shape as the employer had represented. 1 trled to get on good terms with the girls, but found them hostile. Still, in_the course of my friendly attempts I contrived to study them, one after another. My i | first observation was that the boss had been wrong in picking out the girls he had discharged as ringlead- ers. There was a young woman who answered to the name of Sadie. She was at first glance by no means the most rowdy and recalcitrant of the but you only had to catch the flash of her sharp glancing black eyes to understand that she was profoundly and bitterly aAtagonistic, and, at the same time, was one of those dominant, fiery personalities that are inevitably fitted for command in the group to which they are attached. Simply on a basis of charatcer study I was con. vinced that Sadie was the captain of rebellion, the inciter of discontent. On the other hand, she might be turned irlto a power of good as strong as she now was of evil. She would have to be tamed and transformed into & friend. It would not be an easy task. Those black eyes of hers contained as much defiance and stub- bornness as you could wish to see, 1 lald ambush for her, watched for some offense. She was not much given to overt outbreaks, but pres- ently I caught her starting a fox trot during working hours and urg- ing the other girls to join in. I walked into the middle of it, and you should have seen her eyes flash fire! T said nothing more than to bid one of the others tell her that I wanted to see her, and turned back to my ofice $ il | | | She arrived down, hard and sneer 1 said. “Aw, 1 can tuke the bawling-out tanding up,” she snarled [ studied her for a moment lonzer. although 1 needed no further study of her eves to come by an opinion I had judged her to be u creature us strong in affection and loyalty as in antagonism. quite a trifle sentimental and protective, too. She was the kind that would sacrifice herself to the limit for any one belonging to her. | The family instinet must @ strong | in her. “Sadie,” 1 rothers arou ked, “have you id at vour house wo,” she replied. *“Why? “Well," 1 went on, “suppose one vour brothers was in my position in it factory and his job depended on his | keeping things going and getting the | work done. And suppose there was a Eirl in that factory who was dancing around as you were and getting the other girls to stop their work. Sup- pose that girl was making your brother fail in his job. What would you do?" Her head went tossing. “Why, I'd scratch her eyes out.” “Of course you would. Then look at it this way, Sadie. 1 have a sister. 1 want you to put yourself in her place and feel about it as she would feel. Try that for a few days, will you?" Thgt appeal quite conquered her, and I don’t think any other attack, save upon her home feelings, would have had any effect. After that open- 5 I was able, with a bit of cultiva- tion, to win her friendship. The other girls followed her lead and pro- duction in the factory quickly went to normal and over. During this time I gave an occa- sional lectur on character, and these increased in number gradually until I threw up my work in factories. On one tour a man came to me, saying: “Two very dear friends of mine, a young married couple, are contem- plating divorce. 1 know they love each other very much, and yet they cannot get along. I think you can help them.” He brought them to me, and I had a long talk with them and studied them. The mainspring of the trouble was to be found in the wife's com- plaint that the husband gave her no attention, but was cold and indifferent toward her. At home of evenings he would remain silent, read the news- papers and go to bed. She had vivid eyes, restless, eager. She wanted gayeties. amusements, dancing, the theater. Yet there was a turn of profound devotion in her. He was qulohuul Tather nemsiives 3 any half of could see e that hard enough to it 1 said to “Your Le hushi | consideration and ente he hus been piving You been sacrificing to him. comes home from his work tired ar passes his evenings with y¢ He has been using all at his work and needs the r have Leen sacrificing yourself to h labor und ambition. The whole que: tion is. do him well enougl for th 1 suid to him “You feel justitied our neg of your wife's inclinations, You s to vourself that vour work demand all ‘of your effort. Very well, } don't you realize that vou are sacr ficing her. and that without even recognition of her sacritice? Yield ¢ her desi as much as you are al and in so fs 18 vou cannot, why the acknowledge to her the injustice 3 are doing her. Tell her that you fee she is not getting u square deal fror you. Tell her constantly that you ap preciate her devotion. She will like that even better perhups than if you did follow her wishes in everything 1 was told later that they had taker my advice to heart, and now wer quite happy together. A mother brought a 10-vear-old bo to me. He was always ill, and 1 doctors could do nothing for h They diagnosed his case as some ol scure nervous disorder, but their ren edles were of no avall. They boy ate little and was a mere ekeleton. Mt first impulse was to tell her that I did not practice medicine and could be of no use. But the boy's eyes held me. They were simply alive with fear, with a constant, chronic fear Her attitude toward him was one of gentle affection, and vet I observed that once when she reprov him mildly she used the phrase, “I will tell your father.” 1 inquired about the father, and she told me that he was a just but stern. grim man, one of those forceful peo ple with whom no one wonld dare 1o | take liberties. He was good to his son, but severe. “The boy is ting away with fear,” I told her. “He is extremel sensitive and the combination of ten peraments between him and his father is such as to terrorize him. He lives in @ fright. The cure is for the fathe: to exert himself to the utmost to be gentle, smiling and indulgent.” And T found out later tha: *a emve you. hed her w it was