Waterbury evening Democrat., 1907-08-07

"I speak of experience, not years,' he said. You have lived for twenty years in a very delightful spot nc doubt but away from everything which makes life endurable, possible even, for the child of the cities. have lived for twenty-one years mostly in Paris. Ah, the differencew
 Guy shrugged his shoulders and lean ed back In bis chair.
 Well, he said briefly, tastes differ I've seen quite all want to of Paris for the rest of my life. Give me fine June morning in the country and a tramp round the farm, or an early morning start in September walking down the cartridges, or gray day in November, with good gee under. meath, plenty of grass ahead and hounds talking. Good God, wish l were back in England!
 Henri smiled and caressed his upper lip, where symptoms of a mustache were beginning to appear.
 My dear Guy" he said, you speak crudely because you do not under. | stand You know of Paris only its grosser side. How can one learn more when you cannot even speak its Ian guage? You know the Paris of the tourist The real magic of my beauti full city has never entered into your heart. Your little dabble in it's vices and frivolities must not count to you as anything final. The joy of Paris to one who understands is the exquisite refinement, the unsurpassed culture of its. abysmal wickedness."
 "The devilr' Guy exclaimed Have you found out all that for yourselfT
 Henri was slightly annoyed. He was always annoyed when he was not talk. en seriously.
 q have had the advantage" he said, "of many friendships with men whose names you would scarcely know, but who directed the intellectual tenden. cies of the younger generation of Par. isians. People call us decadents-that I suppose. because we prefer intellect, ual progression to physical activity. am afraid, dear friend. that you would never be one of us."
 q am quite sure of it." Guy an. swered.
 You will not even drink absinth.' T Henri continued, helping himself from little .carafe which stood between them, absolutely the most artistic of all drinks. You prefer a thing you call pipe to my choicest cigarettes. and you have upon your cheeks a color of which plowboy should be ashamed"
 Guy laughed good humoredly.
 Well, can't help being sunburntr' he declared.
 Henri sighed dellcately.
 "Ah, it is not only that" he said. q wish so much that I could make you understand. You positively cultivate good health-take cold baths and walks and exercises to preserve it."
 Why the dickens shouldn't IT"
 Henri half closed his eyes. He was a dutiful nephew. but he felt that an other month with this clodhopper of an English boy would mean the snapping of his finely strung nerves.
 My friend" he began gently. i've in Paris of the set to which belong do not consider good health to be a state which makes for intellectual pro gession. Good health means the tri- umph of the physical side of man over the nervous. The healthy animal sleeps and eats too much. He does not know the stimulus of pain. His normal con ditIon is unaspiring-not to say bovine. The first essential therefore of life. according to our tenets. Is to get rid of supernuous health"
 Guy did not trust himself to speak this time. He only stared at hls com panlon. who seemed pleased to have evoked his interest
 Directly inc body Is weakened. [" Henri continued. ''the brain begins to act. With the IndlsposItion for physi. cal effort comes activity of the imag- ination. Cigarettes. drugs. our friend here" be continued. batting the earsfe, Tate nights. Ia belle passion-ali these all these--
 He broke of In the middle of bis sen tence Simultaneously be abandoned his carefully chosen sttitude of studied languor. He was leaning forward Ia his chair watching . csrriags which had just come into sight along fhs straight wide ro4d which led from tba outside world to the chstsal
 The dsriir he erciAlnst. -Ey re spectsd uncis. JEecnsa-