The star. (Reynoldsville, Pa.) 1892-1946, 1908-04-22

I'm tired OF this sort or lie,
said Sylvester to his friend Wat
son.
What sort of life?" asked Wat
son.
"Why, my life-the life I'm liv-
Ing"
whats the matter with it?"
"It's rotten. l hate 1t"
Come, you've got nothing to
grumble at, surely"
you mean because I'm rich, and
all that sort of thing?"
"Yes-particularly all that sort of
thing by which l take it you mean
your exceptional mental and physi-
cal"
Don't be an idiot l tell you,
I'm sick of myself-sick of he whole
beastly show, sick of eating, and
drinking, and sleeping, and enjoying
myself. l suppose man was meant
for something better than that"
"Of course. But you're not doing
yourself justice, old fellow. Eating
and enjoying yourself isn't the sum
total of your existence. Every child
on the estate knows better than
that"
That's nothing" said Sylvester,
hurriedly. "I'm bound to look after
the estate, of course, butts an
empty existence, all the same, Wat
son. I'm miserable, lonely man."
Watson gave prolonged whistle.
$50 that's what's the matter with
you," he said. Now l understand.
Sylvester, who is the lady?"
There is no lady," replied Sylves-
ter, flushing beneath his tan.
Then I'm on the wrong track. 1t
Isn't matrimony you're hankering
after?"
ITO tell you the truth, believe 1t
is," murmured Sylvester, sheepishly
Then why, for goodness sake,
ion't you marry?"
well, II mean to. That's what
want to talk to you about"
''Why not talk to the lady?"
"There is no lady," repeated the
other. mot yet, at least" he added,
confusedly.
"You mean to say there is no one
you care about?"
''No; at least-well-no That is,
I'm not in love with any one, you
know"
Watson laughed. I'm beginning
to understand" he said. There are
lots of girls you like, and you don't
know which to fall in love with,
eh?"
1T sounds idiotic, doesn't it?"
mot at all. You're not the first
man who's felt like that"
'I'm a very bad judge of women,
Watson"
ooh! Perhaps you want me to rec
ommend wife to your"
"Well-yes. At least, you under
stand" he added, quickly. I'm not
such conceited ass as to imagine I
can choose wife as l should choose
a horse"
mo; of course not"
''In fact, dare say, shall have to
ask good many before anybody will
have me. But, of course, one has to
make up ones mind whom to ask"
Watson looked at his friend in
amusement mingled with admiration.
Sylvester had spoken with the ut
most simplicity. There was not the
slightest suspicion of mock modesty
in tone or manner. "And yet,"
thought Watson, 'he is man few
women would say mo- to-"
Look here" he said, aloud,
"you're sure there's no one you've
made up your mind to ask?"
NO." replied Sylvester, hesitating
q scarcely perceptible second.
What pity Nellie's made up her
n3ud to marry Lowry. I could con-
sGlDntiously recommend her!"
"Of course. Your sisters a prize.
However, Lowry's the happy man in
that case"
"How about Rita Vermont" asked
Watson. You were rather struck
In that quarter, weren't your"
with her good looks-yes," said
Sylvester, "but-well-havey you ever
seen her in temper? l have"
THAT settles her, then. There's
Mollie Branson. She's amiable and
good-tempered, as well as pretty"
"She's too good for me-"
(which means that you don't care
for her. Well, then, have you
thought of Blanche Lester?"
II have to think of her," returned
Sylvester, with whimsical smile.
Then there is some one, after ALL"
exclaimed his friend.
you don't understand. My rela-
tions with Blanche Lester are of a
strictly business-like nature. She
writes letters asking for donations
to her various charities, and l an
swer them"
What Of Edith Vaughan" de-
manded Watson, after moment g
paure.
Il admire her-at distance said
Sylvester, solemnly-