The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1908-01-16
THE EVENING STORY
The Perfect Man.
(By Troy A1lison.)

ct am getting frightfully cynical,
liberia said dolefully, arranging the
cushions on the box couch so the De-
| coming red one would be nearest her
face, land I don't like it. My dislike
| is not founded so much upon moral
grounds as from a regard for my COM
| plexion."
"Eh?" remarked Mr.. Terhune'
helplessly. your conversation, my
| dear alberta, often seems involved.
| Your remarks are sometimes not as
| lucid-that is-as intelligible-as one
might desire
| perhaps I am forgetting that the
young or very feeble are fed on
specially prepared food, John-and
the rule probably applies as much to
| the mental as to the physical" she
said with mock petulance.
| Nov my dear girl, don't fly off into
| a psychological discussion-for either
nature defrauded me or they left out
something in my college COURSE
don't know which. The only thing
want to know is-why being cynical
should affect your complexion"
That's easily explained-it takes
| the sparkle out Of my eyes, it draws
my mouth down at the corners and
destroys my dimple-and, to cap the
| climax, 1t makes me wonder If there
is living, breathing man worth
marching my hair for. So. when I
get In cynical mood I go around
straight-haired, thin-lipped, with a
! listless expression that makes me
positively homely."
But my dear child" protested Mr..
Terhune, II could run in almost any
time to admire the marceIled hair
and If didn't happen to come at the
psychological moment, you could
phone me at any minute and I would
be Observation-Disclosures rush to
admire-just count on me for any old
time" he added graciously.
lively foolish she said severely, try
ing to select from the box in her lap
a chocolate that contained a nut. IT
am tired Of being admired by plain.
| everyday men,
| Like me?'' he suggested amiably.
| II didn't say I was rude or i'm
polite enough to call you names-I
| merely said I was cynical" she de-
INJURED.
| "Oh-can me a plain, everyday man
If you like" he conceded graciously-
| III 1t makes you feel one tiny bit bet
| ter to work off your cynicism on me,
Lady Fair. IT'S sweet to die for-er-
I'm not strong in poetry alberta, but
I'm willing to help you out all I can.
So you want the marcer to be ad-
l
berta, my child, don't you think a
perfect man would let his thoughts
run upon-er-scientific lfnes-and
not fluctuations in-hair lfnes?'
| He wouldn't, I'm sure, labor under
puns," she shifted disdainfulIy.
| Even If he didn't make puns-he
might be disagreeable in other re-
| spects," suggested Mr.. Terhune hope
fully. His very projections, my dear
m hi oil CI<rI,f ol
| enough to see the imperfections of 9TH
ers. Now I think you are perfect-but
| he probably would not take to you at
all on account of your imperfections."
them?" the tone struck Mr. Terhune as
| being slightly icy. but-however foolish
| he evidently was not lacking in bra
very:
| that 1, even I, am perfect man, per-
| haps can give you a few Of the ideas
| he might entertain"
pray dot cannot fail to be inter-
| esting,' freezingly.
THAT reminds me, I met Miss DeIand
on the street this afternoon, and 1 new
er in my life saw SO perfect a profile.
| She is the exact type that would make
a suitable mate for your perfect man.
And I think she has the daintiest little
| nose I ever saw" reminiscently
| liberia REDEEMED slightly. She had
! always wondered If her nose were not
a trifle large, and her fingers uncon-
| sciously flew to her face to be passed
| furtively over the suspected member
And she always makes herself so
| entirely char1ning-she doesn't seem to
| be moody-one could not imagine her
ever being-er-rude. She is an ideal
| feminine character a perfectly wom-
| anly woman-she would give her hus-
! band just the proper amount Of adora-
| tion necessary to stimulate him to sue
| cess-she wouldn't expect the perfect
man to waste time in admiring a mere
| woman-a frail, impulsive, whimsical
| woman. The perfect man, my dear,
would probably-at least, possibly-be
| the center Of attraction himself. 1 can
| imagine that his wife would occupy the
subordinate position of second fiddle"
Eiberta sat quietly stroking her nose
| with her finger. evidently deeply alb
sorbed in thought.
"John-do you think my nose is-very
| larger" she asked timidly. almost hum
bly,.
ooh, I have seen few larger" de-
clared Mr. Terhune airily.
1t is hard to have ones sensitive
| point so negligently handled-and the
| girl looked at him in grieved surprise
Il had no idea you were so disagree
| ably critical-of course never thought
I was a beauty-but I can't help the
| size Of my nose"
| "Of course you can't" consolingly-
| nobody can blame you for it." he de-
| clared piously. I'VE should not blame
| people for their misfortunes-we should
| sympathize.'
| She looked at him a second. tears of
modification in her eyes. You are
cruel,' she said in muffled tones from
| the depth of the red pillow where she
| buried her face.
| Mr.. Terhune without her eyes upon
| him, permitted look Of satisfaction to
| creep over his face.
| wouldn't 1t be awful to live in the
same house with man so perfect him
| self that he never noticed your eyes or
| hair-who perhaps had so perfect a
nose that he would make disaEreeable
comparisons of your own-er-features ?''
| he suggested wickedly.
slight sob from the red cushion