Barton County democrat. [volume] (Great Bend, Kan.) 1885-1915, 1894-08-23
us sAsnFuL YOUTHS WOES.


Men Sheer at Him. Women Look on Him.
without Pity. and Girls GtggIe at Him.
He deserves pity, but he Is univer-
sally laughed at.
He is painfully conscious of existence
wherever he goes, and it would doubt
less be mercy to him if he could cease.
existing, now and then, long enough
to recover his composure.
His feet and hands are always won
derfully in the way, and large portion
of his time is passed in the melancholy
task of measuring his two thumbs. as
if he were not altogether certain :
whether they were mates or not
He contempsates the toes of his boots
for hours together, with face as grave
and sage as if these same toes were
the vague, mysterious future" of
which we hear so much, and he was.
seeking to penetrate its secrets.
He cannot walk across the room with
out turning up the corners of all the
rugs in his pathway, and if he does not
tip over the ottOmans, and sweep the
ornaments off the center table with his
coattails, he may esteem himself fortu-
nate
Every time he passes n rocking chair
he Will, of course, bruiSe his ankle
wish, mentally, if not audibly, the in
ventor of rocking chairs in a warm lat
itude.
When he is introduced to a lady he
bushes like criminal and bows with
jerk, and stammers, and feels in his
pockets, and pulls his whiskers, if he
has any, and flirtS with his watch
chain, and plants one foot on the lady's
dress, and calls her Mrs if she is a
Miss, and vice verSa-and makes him
self miserable generally.
But it is at table that he exhibits
most powerfully his popularity. He
eats pudding sauce on his potatoes, and
gravy on the apple dumplings, and he
tries to eat the butter. and the ball
bounces out of the slippery plate into
| the steak plate and spatters the gravy
all over the table cloth.
He drops his knife and strikes his
fork against his tumbler, and spills his
| tea, or bliSters his tongue with the hot.
coffee, and gets himself into pickle
generally.
When he calls on an acquaintance he
never knows what to say.
He talks about the weather until the
subject will bear no more handling
and then he will fall into dead silence
and roll his despairing eyes about from
one corner of the room TO the other in
the vain hope that they may discover
something about which aremark can
! be made.
| He never knows when to go away.
and when he has made up his mind
that it is time to be going, he is afraid
to make move.
His boots creak-bas mems boots
always do creak-and there VIII be sew
eral ladies between him and the door,
and he doesn't remember where he
! left his hat, and the cold perspiration
bursts out on his forehead, ana he most
! devOutly wishes that such a thing as
visiting anybody was unknown
If he hears a girl giggle anywhere
he feels sure that he is the cause of it,
and it makes him creep all over.
He instinctively feels his collar to see
if it is all right, and fingers his coat
tails to make sure there is nothing adj
herring to them. and he feels savage,
and wishes the women had all persisted
in the deluge.
Well there are so few baShful young
men nowadays that people should not
laugh at them, for bashfulness is one
of the ancient virtues, which in this
age of cheek and brass is fast be-
coming obsolete.-Kate Thorne, in N
| V Weekly