The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, January 20, 1901, Page 9

THE SUNDAY CALL. OLY TAaME YouNG MAN. ke next ons. this nty— knewing we him otherwise? w the club man, who drops bored has by riends be. ai- . but such pity young ladies have f t their tasks. enters the draw- gue air which will young hostess now coming into her overlook the fact. nong the cush- ngly regards ng what anti- ) alleviate his iminister case. If she looks good- he takes advantage of the fact ains permission to light a cigar- rks her indulgence in per- » smoke, and pays ser of compliments, nmgly her a to all of which plies, but secretly mar- f-assurance ‘her flatterer , imagine that she believes santries. for the sake of arriving at his studies his redeem- and in discussing them pays few compliments so extravagant e would only pardon 3 that it is sometimes to exaggerate for emphasis certain people. She is sed to find that he indorses ch. = uttered, and is ad- her keen powers of discernment he only half admits that rtues are his. flatter as differently 20 about telling a falsehood. We 2 man tells a lie he nscle he groi when HE BEAR "HE 1S EVIDENTLY THE R\ simply braces up and tells a good one. So finished s his art that he can loolk his fair auditor straight in the face with the innocence of a blue-eyed wax doll and never fiinch. If there is any truth in tha statement that Jonah dared not look his wife in the face wnen he told her about the whale then primitiveness alone is re- sponsible. Certainly man’s education along that line has not been neglected since. Were a woman to prevaricate according to man’s method she would be a flat fail- ure because she Jacks the generations and generations of practice her noble lord has GIVING ME AN IMITATION OF A MAN TOPPLING OVER BRINK OF DESPAIR" made the most of. Her success depends upon compromising with her conscience first. Not until she has tapght herself to belleve the statement can she tell it with great success. The same basic prineiples apply to mas- culine and femfnine flattery. A man wishes to say something nice to a woman and he says it without confining himself too strictly to existing circumstances. When a woman wishes to return this com- pliment she feebly gropes around, looking for a goéd point in the gallant knight's character to hang 1t upon; then she en- larges the quality enough to be attractive, reconclles herself (o the exaggeration, and, 10! the charming speech Is ready to present and “Quebec is hers.” She does not consider it flattery, however; it be- comes expressed appreciation instead. But to look in agaln on the club man rgets for the hour that he was while his hostess reiterated the virtues that entitled him to the rank of “Pri Charming.” T need hardly say for we never expected her io s its, although he had liked to be analyzed and her frank character opinion. Frank, indeed! She nearly gasped at the thought of the consequenges had she dis- at he B 1 . 4 THE BLASE CLUB MATM. “HE PLANTS HIMSEL AMONG THE CUSHIONS™ I closed one of his faflings. would have friendship. The masculine caller Is especially liberal with his advice. Trué he would not allow others to inflict this unweicome articla upon him without saying that “advice 18 one of those things it is so much easier to give than to receive,” but being a man of the world his suggestions, he feels quite sure, are Invaluable to others. He warns his fair friend against every one except himself. She must not, he tells her, be seen much in the company of gentlemen; she might place herself in Buch a blunder proved disastrous to their a bad light before the public. Of course she may do as she likes, he says, but he certalnly would not advise her to eat luncheon or attend the theater with his friends. As to riding in the park with any gentleman (except himself) it is out of the question. He is disappointed in her that she could tolerate the idea, adding that he had known al' along that women were foolish, but had hoped she might prove an exception. Sometimes he merely gives as his reason: “I would not like to have you It would seem that the only thing fe- maining for her to do 18 to sit up and look pleasant when this particular man favors her with a call. She must not expect him to fall in love with ber; this would be presuming, ané she must never presume. He expects her to be delighted to see him, whether he calis often or seldom. He de- vours her with ravishing glances. He fairly hangs upon her words, and, being a womar, she might almost be fooiish enough 1o think him interested psychi- cally did she not know otherwise. He overlooks the fact that she {s a good listener, for he concedes to himse'f that he is an interesting talker. When famous operatic etars are being discussed this king of beasts waves them away with a sweep of his majestic hand. “Scalchi,” he tells his fair listener, “never had any idea of singing; and I am tired of Nordica. If you like good music vou ought to have heard those Zerrahn symphony coucerts. in Boston twenty years ago.” As though a girl would ever wish her- self old enough to remember those cor certs! And as though she would be at- tractive to this time-worn music lover if such antiquity were hers! “Wandering in dreamland, where happi- ness is cheap.” These words in the song suggest themselves to me as T picture the men who, when they are depressed, seek out feminine drawing-rooms, where “hap- piness {s cheap.” Had they dropped in to see the educated monkeys on a vaudeville programme they would have paid for ad- mission. And the trained human monke: of us who “study ‘to please”—are we not as free- ly condemned at a quiet club dinner for an unsatisfactory performance as though we charged for seats, like our woolly com- petitors, the professional monkeys? However, we have more remuneration than the dear men are aware of giving— more than we can tell them of—for they greatly amuse us, although unconsciously perhaps. when we dare not let them know what a perfectly gorgeous time we are having at their expense. A San Francisco man, whom I recall at this moment, handsome and distinguished, Is made very comfortable at the Bohemian Club, but in =pite of this fact he has moods. At times he is decidedly bearish. I have noticed that he does not hide him- self in a cave during these spells, al- though, llke his fellows, he believes the ladies should never appear unless they can be charming. As for himself, this is just the time he must be entertained. He therefore calls upon his friends—in fact, He sometimes honors me with his danger- ous moods. After greeting me in a glum sort of way, accompanied by whatever politeness I commend, he hastens to inform me (and needlessly) that he is out of humor. In other words, I must prepare for the worst and make agreeable speeches, whether or nec; but I must not expect a great effort | toward affability on his part, because he is an cld friend of the family. from cld friends of the family! My masculine caller flops into a chair | Deliver me as heavily as though he meant to commit | suicide by dropping through the earth. He assumes the much abused air of a mar- tyr who regards a living death as 2 little out of his line, that “ “Twere better not to be!” Seeing that my visitor glances tolerant- Iy toward a decanter, I offer him a glass of sherry, which he does me the honor to accept. ‘then settles back and fixes his gaze dejectedly upon the rug. He evi- dently s giving me an' Imitation of a man toppling over the brink of despair. but I do not grasp the pathos of the situ- ation. Instead, I see only ihe delicious comedy of a well groomed man trying to look neglected: an epicure vainly en- deavoring to look pinched and starved; a man who i8 unusually successful in life. and agrees with Byron ! feeling a heartrending pity for himseif | without knowing what for, yet expecting others to understand and sympathize in his dark hour. However, I dare not laugh at him lest the comedy change to tragedy, for, as 1 say, he is extremely dangerous at such times. I must enjoy the picture in secret while I talk incessantly. What I say to him matters little, for he does not expect me to say much of anything. In his present mood he re- gards women as hopelessly foolish and is not at all reluctant about expressing him- self upon the subject. I suppose this 1s one of the woes of frankness and untram- meled bachelorhood. When I have cheer- tully exaggerated all his good qualities and paid him several of the most delicata- ly wrought compliments I can possibly produce, he satirically remarks: “Delicious! Very lovely, indeec ing the compliments, unfortunately The scene changes and my comedy goes on, every moment bringing some fresh in- congruity of speech or action. The lonely star now deigns to notice another bottle, which happens to contain my precious brand of sweet wine. He takes a sniff and bluntly ejaculate: is sweet wine of you much like hair oil to m Knowing the vintage, however, I am not mean- at all withered, but offer him a glass, which I observe he emvties twice, re- marking that my glasses are ridiculously small. As the play proceeds, I am glad to note that my applause has not been in vain, for my would-be tragedian is beginning to feel better. I feel certain of this, be- cause he indulges in pleasantries; he likes to see his Intellect at play. After hurling in my direction considerable re- partee (for the brilliancy of which he is noted), my guest departs, less bearing than before. He murmurs something about his “lonely club.” Perhaps, on leaving, he would not apolo- gize, as he does, for inflicting his moods upon me, did he realize that I feel greatly indebted to him for much genuine amuse- ment at what I consider a special mati- nee. In striking contrast to the blase club man is the stupidly tame young man. We all know Eim, but by different names, perhaps. It is well that he does not know what names we call him—well for him, I mean; pdrsonally we have nothing to fear, for he is perfectly harmless. I have heard him described as the ‘“‘good-for- nothing good young man'; but this is quite unfair, because he is useful and really has his good points. He is always on hand. That is just his trouble, and becomes ours, too, in time: for he wants it understood that he is “keeping company.” most | smells very | bank clerk to be always on hand counts for something, but for the hopelessly un- interesting tame young man to appear regularly before our tired vision is fatal to his cause. He usually rocks (rocking being a sem- blance of activity)—rocks and smiles eon- stantly. I used to discriminate between good and bad boys by their smiles, when 1 was young; but as I was not a “‘won- dertully precocious child”” my rule is sub- mitted with apprehension. 1 found that the good boys always looked pleasant— smiled very hard all the time; while the bad boys, when I approached, took on an earnest, confidently sanctimonious expres- slon which might absolve them from any accusation of hiding my jumping-rope. The tamg young man does not always rock. He may have read in some book of @ it @ TR etiquette that it is not polite to do so. Then he sits up very straight on the ed of a chair, his knees tightly pinned to- gether, holds his head and neck well up out of his conventional black .coat, and deliberately re several chapters of the story of his life. I would that we could listen as cheerfully, but we busy sympathizing, with the fellow meor- tal who said: ““There is no objection to a man blow- ing his own horn, but it is the tune he al- ways selects that makes us tired!™ Stfll, he means well, the stupld young man, and that Is just what saves him. Sometimes he asks us to gp with him to the vaudeville when we crave grand opera, but w2 decide not to annihilate him simply because he forgets we are musical. He prefers tramp sketches be- cause he “likes the jokes.” There 'is one fault, however, he must not possess: he must pot have the “pun” habit. If he wilifully creates infantile puns, or perhaps reproduces feeble, anti- quated jokes, he i8 no longer harmless and must be dealt with accordingly. Of such an individual T heard a voung married woman say (very feelingly) a few days ago: “1 should think she would nearly die with having Mr. —- call so frequently. It must be almost as nauseating as seeing one’s husband about all the time!" And that frrepressivle married man! What shall we do with him? How much time must elapse before he discovers that he is no longer eligible? Why does he re- are For an ambitious fuse to be withered. but seem to regard himself as more irresistiblea than ever? The only reason (aside from egotism, of which it would never do to accuse him) that his wife has praised him until he be- lieves himself an ideal Romeo who would be very much in demand if the bachelor girls only’ knew what an artist in lov making he had becc He seems to pers seeing his old sweethearts. He mast drop in the sake of old times, he explains. Coraline, whom he would bewilder wi his charms, declines to receive him with- out his wife, he brings her along to act as guardian angel. Then the irrepressible admirer grins so enthusiastically at ev- erything his bachelor hostess says th he fails to direct a single femark to his wife during thel» call, unless, perhaps others address her: whereupon he makes for e e I 0 o e e e o ] ] Have You Rwver Seen the Funny Little v - Flying Sauirrel 2 NE of the prettiest, gentlest and @ most interesting of the little wild folks is the common flying squir- rel. Hjis round, black eyes are large and prominent and his tafl is flat and featherlike. But the most remarka- ble fact about him is that he has delicate fur-covered membranes which ex- tend one from each of the wrists of t fore legs to the wrists of the correspond ing hind legs. These membranes, when not in use, are folded close a; sides, and do not interfere with the move- ments of the squirrel when he is climb- ing. He runs up a tree to the top or it and jumps In the direction of anothe tree, perhaps fifty feet away. jumps he stretches out his legs sideways as far as he can, thus unfolding the mem- branes, on which he is then able to sall through the air as with a parach The movement from one tres to another two r ts always downwa and the farther v nk to which he is sailin arer the ground he will be whe he reaches it. Flying squirrels go to sleep all winter in nests of leaves or soft bark, which they make in the autumn. Sometimes the is built branch: tree, but mor en in a hole in a de- cayed st The hole dug o by a d frequen: chosen by place as this are born in > early spr »rn blind and entirely naked. to appear is the whi r of the body soon f ,ugh their eyes are not open for a h, cling to a branch when t a few days old. After they get their ome playful and frisky, ar chasing one a they « they bec ey may n be, seen other about the tree near th They ¥ with the me for s ral months, and in the autu make sts for them- selves and go 1o sieep for the winter. HAROLD BAY) / ' 4 f \ ) [ { gy v ) THE IRREPRESSIRLE" MARRIED MAN. ! "FAILS TO DIRECT 4 SINGLE REMARK TO HIS WIFE " o t (?) jokes at her expense. eculates upon nt status of Coraline’s heart. Ho wonders if she does not wish she had been the one to accept the stupendous of- fer of his name and honor in exchange for her identity, heart, soul and life. Has regards such an offering a noble sacrifice on his part, but one usually observes that he makes the choice. He may have won the limpid, pale-eyed Essie for his wife because her weak littls mind was readily overcome by his strong- er will. This does not occur to him; but if he recalls an instance where Coraline neglects to lionize a man (perhaps be- cause she Is not seeking the position of keeper and lion-tamer), he only decides that she must be strong-minded and, therefore, unfit for domestic life. Say what you will of our folly, but do not charge us with “impossible ideais.” You might do 3o if we were fooking for =n honest man, a lover who would not le to us; but poor Diogenes spent his life in such a quest, which proved fruitless, and we mean to profit by his experfence. Still if by accident, we shduld ever discover this rarest of beings, a truthful mar, there would be great danger of our mak- ing love to him violently. Conventional- ity alone might save him. But we are not looking for men without faults (that would be a wild-goose chass after a rainbow). What we are clamor ing for is a more complete optical illuston —one underneath which we do not see the bpny framework too easlly. 1f you must deceive us. do It well