Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1894-09-13
WOES OF THE BAsHrUL YOUTH.
Men Sheer at Him and Women Look
on Him Without Pity.


He deserves pity, but he is uniyers-
ally laughed at.
He is painfully conscious of existence
wherever he goes, and 1t would doubt
less be a 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 por-
ton of his time is passed in the mel
anchely task of measuring his two
thumbs, as If he were not altogether
certain whether they were mates or
not.
He contemplates the toes of his boots
for hours together, with a 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
without turning up the corners of all
the rugs in his pathway, and IL he
does not tip over the ottomans, and
sweep the ornaments off the center
table with his coat-tails, he may es-
TEEN himself fortunate.
Every time he passes a rocking chair
he will, Of course, bruise his ankle
bones against the rockers, and he Will
wish mentally, if not andibly, the in
ventor of rocking chairs in a warm
latitude.
When he is introduced to lady he
~. |.
a jerk, and stammers, and feels in his
pockets, and pulls his whiskers, If he
has any, and fiirts 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 a
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 a dead ST.
lence, and roil his despairing eyes
about from one corner of the room to
the other in the vain hope that they
may discover something about which
remark 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 a move.
His boots creak-bashful mems boots
always do creak-and there will be
several ladies between him and the
door, and he doesn't remember where
he left his hat, and the cold perspira-
ton bursts out on his forehead, and
he most deyoutly wishes that such a
thing as visiting anybody was I'M
known.
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 insdnctiyely feels his collar, to
see IL 1t is all right and fingers his
coat-tails to make sure there Is moth
ing adhering 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 tnat people should not
laugh at them, for bashfulness is one
of the ancient virtues, which ia this
age of cheek" and brass" is fast
becoming obsolete.--Kate Thorne, In
New York Weekly.