The daily morning journal and courier., 1902-07-30
A SUMMER HOTEL PICTURE.

With a Good Bit of Philosophy in It.
 It seems rather a trivial incident to record, but, for the pleasant talks that followed, it may not be amiss to jot it down. Seated at one of the breakfast tables of the cozy little seaside inn in "Where's It At?" was an elderly gen. tleman, rather grave of aspect, though with an occasional twinkle in his eye, and twitch about the corner of his lips that indicated relieving gleams of hu- nor. By the way, the young woman waiting on his table had just gone out to fill his order.
 Now, it so happened that all the waitresses in this halfway hotel are girls hired. in from the surrounding back country, the most of whom have been at work throughout the winter teacher, and who are glad enough to earn little extra pin money by "serv- ing tables in the summer months. Be- sides, to their home-bred and untravel- ed minds, "Where's It At?" is invested with all the glamour of Newport or Bar Harbor, in which may be studied the latest mysteries of dress and man. ners prevalent in metropollses or at least 5000 inhabitants. To visit the lit- tie seashore spot is, therefore, locked on as a liberal education, the equivalent, indeed of all sojourn in Paris stands for to their Boston and New York sis tehood, Thus relative is everything in this motley world, where the anthill Of one region looms up as the Mont Blanc of another, and n-dollars-a-week board seems as colossal an outlay as, under other conditions, seven dollars a day at the Waldorf-Astoria.
 To return however, to the young swo- man, gone out to fill the elderly gentle mans breakfast order, whose head, by the way, bountiful nature had adorned with a rare abundance of rich auburn red hair, worn in front in miniature crisp and crinkly curls-little frizzled curled darlings indeed. Titan would have given all his old shoes to paint that head of hair, though probably in l her native haunts it had served only to win for her the derogatory nickname of ''red-headed woodpecker.' No sooner, | however, had she appeared, tray in l hand, through the swinging door lead 1 ing from the kitchen than it was sight to see how the elderly gentleman's eye lighted up with all the fervor of Per- sian fire worshiper's when the re- splendent orb of day first scars above the horizon. Hardly, though, had the sung dodes set before him his cup of coffee and plate of fried eggs and ba- con than a paIpable "change came OCT lIt. es..:4 i,Sr lac bacon evidently that was at the bottom of the abruptly transition, as, probing the porcine flesh with fork, one look of hisexpressive face revealed how thick, soft, f1abby and totally unappe- tizing he found it. Still, no trace of ill- temper betrayed itself.
 Don't you think you could bring me a little bacon done differently from this?' he pleasantly began. q like it very thin, and then all crisped anG crinkled and frizzled up just like-just jlike-what shall say? Well, just like your front hair! Then, it's perfectly charming!"
 A first momentary look of blank as- tonishment in the young girls face was instantly followed up by pearls of the merriest laughter The extravagant incongruity between literal recipe fol broiling slices of bacon so as to render them perfectly charming" and the way in which her front hair was dress, ed evidently turned topsy-turvy anG tickled to death all her previous ideas of logical analogy. Yet, so plain was ito to see from the elderly gentleman's admirng courtesy that his intention was solely to exalt the bacon through the faintest approximation on it's part tc the glories of her hair and not to drag down her hair to the prosaic of bacon that no particle of offense could bt taken.
 "I'l1 try what can do for you, sir.' she replied as she left the room. laugh ing all the way; and when, later on, she returned with another plate, it was clear that her triumph was complete Certainly, in range of color the bacor would have .entranced a conclave o1 Venetian Bellinis. Carpaccios an6 Giorgiones. "Ah! that's just it, jus it!' exclaimed the elderly gentleman why, in that slice, at the right there