The Montgomery advertiser., 1901-12-20
THE ADVERTISERS DAILY SHORT STORY

Of the four raised voices in the library | only one was speaking in the big mans i defense. But that one was holding its I own fairly well until somebody. man ] spoke out iu bitter condemnation: I And he carries with him eternally ar
 atmosphere of scented soap. a. It was then that the thin. wiry voice i first made itself heard. striking across | the silence of dumb consternation.
 He is. a dentist and has to wash his
 hands a hundred times a day. ''No matter" retorted the gentleman oi
 hands i've hundred times a day without | turning himself into a perfumery shop. Against such arguments even the thir | voice hesitated about Ringing a missile
 Woman-like. she changed her ground and ciamor of tongues filled the room. | That night the big man went to call or | the girl with the thin voice. She smelt the soap in the hall.
 to send up a card. Every one Is familiar with his favorite brand, and it is loud l enough to make itself heard on the sixth | floor. No wonder he has never married
 Imagine any woman, ,consenting to share such an atmosphere"
 Then they laughed even that other one who had tried to defend him in the be- | ginning. And the gentleman who lead the opposition had turned deliberately and | looked at her. The girls cheeks famed anew at the remembrance and this time | their fire was wholly of righteous indig- nation. For her part she much preferred scented hands to unsavory manners. She opened the parlor door with a sting of | recklessness in her mental attitude. What Is wrongY' he asked as soon as | they had shaken hands. 'I have been thinking" she answered with rather savage determination. The big man smiled upon her. lazily | genial. Tt appears to have been a dis 1 rbing experience." he commented at
 1t always is," she turned to look at l him. He sat in the full light, calm of | brow and lip. with that ever-present sug- gestion of broad tolerance-and scented soap, The girl shrank d little into the If it is fair question. what were ! those troublesome thoughts?' T don't imagine I could manage more | than one. I never venture into the plural | contrasts our reals strike with our ideals We are never what we imagine we arC | or would like to be-"
 Why. I don't know" he studied tho
 outline of her head with satisfied eyes. l Aren't you what you would like tt 1 be-" he questioned dreamily. | -I?. was not thinking of myself" | 80 it is who am falling so far short, ! h. remarked good nat1redly. Don't take
 the trouble to deny it. l know. by youl
 manner that it was one of us."
 But I didn't mean"
 | He smiled encouragingly. "Go on."
 'T didn't mean that you fell short o
 my--I meant that you probably fell fal short of your own. ideals"
 | He paused a moment to enjoy her deli
 cious confusion. What do you fanc, my ideal would be like?' he asked witt large composure.
 "oh. big and strong and sensible anC way above anything little or foppish.'
 And am none of these good things? 9
 "Oh. yes, you are. You are all O them"
 The big man thought a moment. "TheT
 where does the sharp contrast come in?' he asked.
 fI don't know" she stammered. Ther | with plucky resolve not to give oveI the game. answered: At any rate. yot
 don't mean to be foppish-if you really
 appear to be-"
 Eff am?' It never occurred to hin
 to be angry; her blushes were too tempt
 ing.
 | Saturdays story. "CLARISSA."