The Birmingham age-herald., 1904-11-11
COMMENTS ON MEN AND
 MATTERS OF THE WORLD

who have neither automobiles nor even- ing clothes will have to content them selves with a cigar, stroll around town and a cheap lunch. However, when the time comes we will know exactly how to do" "Parsifal," and 1t Is expected that the whole audience will wear that blase expression so characteristic of real city folk
 Maude Adams has completed her first tour of the south, which was remarkably successful. The dainty little actress was given an ovation everywhere she appeared and the fact that her receipts for the whole trip averaged s22O0 for each per formance shows that the south was glad to do her homage as Lady Baboie In "The Little Minister" Last Friday and Saturday Miss Adams gave the last two performances of her tour in Louisville The receipts reached S5sS2. No doubt Miss Adams realizes now that she tarried too long ere she turned her footsteps toward the sunny south and 1t Is to be hoped that hereafter she will come every year.
 A woman who lives in Detroit put should be registered at private sanita- rum is suing for divorce because her husband worked in a saw mill in his youth and is consequently plebeian. Her husband is now wealthy man and lets her want for none of the comforts of life but she cannot survive the stigma that has been cast upon him by his early association with a saw mill Now 1t is
 IL. .l.f- ~.rtk I, I, ,fux man is that she has sawdust on the brain an unfortunate predioament for which she could hardly be blamed. But 1t is rather unusual that she should be so wrought up over her spouse's plebeianism when he still has money. Usually he who has the ducats can live down the most plebeian past without a flicker and as long as his money lasts the aristocratic wife of his bosom Is the last person in the world to remind him of it--in public. The Detroit woman Is clearly victim of Gertrude Atherton's bourgeoisie teach ing anent modern literature in the United States.
 Philosophers have tried many times to explain why 1t Is that a man finds it so diff ,ult to rid himself or a worn-out collar. He risetl up in the morning sorts out the linen that so frayed that his head would be sawed off if he tried to wear it any more, and arrows 1t on the 1 floor He puts on a good collar and goes off with clear conscience but when he returns in the evening a careful wife or a jewel of a servant has restored the castaways to his dresser. Again he sorts 1 them out and this time hurls them into a waste basket @ coal scuttle or any other receptacle wiIie- expresses stronger l than words that he is through with them. Then they are picked up and sent to laundry where the unfortunate owner has to pay to have them restored to their former state of pristine purity. If he l throws them into the street some one will return them with an apology; if he tries to hide them in his room they will get into the laundry bag regularly once a week; if he tries to burn them up his wife will rescue them just as the greedy flames are ready to do their work and scold him for his extravagance. No mat ter how hard he tries he will never be able to get rid of those collars until he cuts them into small bits and scatters them to the four winds of heaven. There is nothing so hard to banisL as worn- out collar. The more frayed collars a man accumulates the closer they stick to him until he becomes, the center of a collar system, about which frayed col lars revolve in ever increasing numbers 1 until his life becomes one weary battle against useless but affectionate, discard ed linen. P. c.