The evening times. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1895-1902, 1901-11-30
W Y. LAST AFFAIR
BIZ CLINTON ROSS

I QudintdnCeS prove y every nOuT OF eY-
| cry day: yet it was more or less of a
/ surprise that 1 myself should take my
fling at that ancient folly For 1 must
/ confess now that 1 have. Last June
was ffty-seven; I suppose I may say
/ I am Old But if 1 am old. I am not
/ grey. I am very straight, thanks to
I my service long under Sherman, and
don't know that I have a pain. Last
/ autumn l to2k up the wheel; / am a
member Of three golf clubs, / still can
t sit even an uncertain horse with some
/ skill, and my nerve is still mine. for
I hold and keep a record with the rife
I may say that I am still susceptible
/ with some pride. tool But I thought
myself beyond the loss of my judgment
! in such an affair.
always have been susceptible: and
! the reason that I am a bachelor at
| fifty-seven is that I never could like
one woman enough not to fnd-perhaps
a little Iater-another equally irresIsti-
bic. All, my friends. man remains a
( bachelor because he admires the sex
deeply; and the man who marries, at
ter all, is a narrow fellow Women get
! their finest tributes from such tempera-
ments as mine, and they know it, too.
I have not been without my successes.
and why should I for the sake Of false
mOdesty. deny emf A man at fifty
seven knows himseIf-where his v1r-
! tues and vices viii carry him
! Yet at ffty-seven, without any warn
ing. I find myself turning sentimental.
Or
/ fellow Werther. who is always-his
kind never dieS-a very young or a
very old bachelor
! When I came to town al the close of
the war ! found myself possessed Of
an income comfortable for one I
found. too. that with caution, and by
| making myself socially agreeable.
| could eat other fellows dinners and
/ ride their horses. If I married knew
| that my position would be gone.
/ might become entangIed with undesira-
bic persons fyou never know about a
family who would deprive me OF all
the position my tact had gained. In
| eyItabIy-UHiess she had dot, which
( agreeable women don't always, and the
| disagreeabIe ones often do haye-I
| should become a beast Of burden; a
/ beast, because a worried man often be-
! comes that; a beast with a burden OF
| worries about making ends meet So,
| coming TO town as did, let other fell
lows work FOR the money, the Iuxuries,
/ and the Irresistible girls, while I en-
ioyed their fruits. I mean that ap-
| preciated their cooks. or their pictures,
and basked in their wives smiles,
which If more sincere for them. at least
never became q frONn for me.
And they married. and worked, and
became distinguished, and had riches,
! and regulations, little or great, and
!! children TO live up to. and grew old.
! and worn. and disagreeable; while II
have told you what / am at 5fty-seven
because I have been content to elimi-
| nate worry.
It was the most natural thing in the
world, then, for Jack BeiIington to in
! vite me for the thousaudth time to his
| house in westchester Jack was a dear
! fellow when we were boys in college;
! dIsa greeabIe fellow since he became
the great Bellington. the lawyer whose
/ income-a small measure Of his Capac-
| ity-is greater than that of the Presi-
/ dent of the United States; but Of course
| Jack Is toe clever a man ever to be
| President
You know you go to everybody's
house. Phil, and you are so internally
! popular that you never come TO ours
Oh, you may pay a bit OF visit now
and then in town on CIarissa. But this
| is different You must, positively must
It's house party for CiaTissa Second. ="
rs she ike CIarissa FirstZ" said /
| Clarissa First is Jacks wife, with
whom I had been medIy in love thirty
/ years ago. and whom. for the reasons
I have stated, let Jack marry. Now
/ she is too fat, too dowager-like Bless
me, that was a narrow escape 1 had
thirty years agol
| She is prettier than her mother ever
was at twenty" Jack went on she
| is just from that French convent; and
| how is it. Phil. that girls brought up
/ in converts, as my wife would have
| CIarissa, always have more men about
/ them9 I'm afraid she is a sad little
firt I had six youngsters approach
I was frightened at first, they were
such caI1ow youths But C1arissa just
| cast down her eyes. Papa, they win
make fools of themselves cant help
it She only came out last winter.
| You were in Cairo, weren't you? She
has been making time tall, that little
| girl of mine. Once we-ny wife and
| did have a fright There's young
| Digges, down in my Office, a clever
enough boy, but without a penny, and
he seemed to be around too much. But
I CIarissa First put her foot down; Clar-
| issa Second cried for week. and then
| seemed to get over it Digges left me-
| and went over to Peabody's Office I
miss him some in getting up my briefs
| but q fellow must think of his own
/ daughters future, yen know
Hang If, old man. thought I, how
you old chaps forget! Weren't you an
/ impecunious young chap when let you
| win Ciarissa First? I was discreet
enough only to think this. I never
combat peoples prejudices.
| Aud, he chartered on-he had had
! several Scotches; 1 nsver go beyond one
1t was all well enough Young Tom
Roaringby has taken Digges' place,
with some others. I hope it's young
Tom He's such a nice fellow; doesn't
make a fool of himself. as he might
| with an that money. I'd like to turn
'er, 2 II ont biIf 7 e,7DDOSo 1hero'II have