The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1918-03-02

Presently he said gloomily:
MY experiment has failed, I'm
afraid"
'.Of course" she assented gently. ut
was bound to. 1t shows of how little
worth a first impression is anyway.
You wondered If the defects that you
see in yourself were apparent to 9TH
ers, and you are half disappointed that
idea of wearing a mask. Isn't that
it,"
Yes"
'And yet you must have known,
except in moments of self-deprecia-
ton, that you make a favorab BILE first
impression and 1 know that 1 do.
conceited as that may sound"
"AIl right He Strengthened up
abruptly. Then we come to the sec
ond part of this experiment. We will
mistaken"
"well-" she hesitated. I'VE can
try it. but that also is pretty hard
thing to do"
Listen to me first he answered.
while 1 tell you what a poor judge
of character at first glance you are.
1 may have a sense of humor. but 1t
doe5n t~work very well. 1 am gloomy.
pess. mistic and am rapidly developing
into a chronic crouch. l am not one
of our rising young professional men;
1 am a clerk il a large mercantile
house, and there hasn't been anything
startling in my rise yet. l may have
common sense, but it doesn't keep me
making a fool of myself about half
the time. 1 lack purpose and deter
mination. I may be domestic by ma
ture, but that's all the good 1t does
me- SO far from living in a brown
stone house il the Eighties am that
l live in a single room down in the
Twenties I come from Michigan and
am a comparative stranger in New
IL
and you are right about the sporting
page. but 1 don't believe that l ever
had ar original idea in my lire; Ano
well, I might go on at consideraoie
length, but how do you like the re-
touched portrait So far?"
The girl was laughing at him again.
1T think the portrait none the worse,
said she; especially since you are
clearly in a mood for self-disparage
ment Let me alter your portrait or
me little. I hope that am sensiD,e.
I'm not f1irt, butfm not SO sure
that I am not conceited. I like babies
and embroidery. but I'm not interested
in charitable work and / do read the
woman's pages in the newspapers
don't live in a brownstone house IN
the Eighties. either, but have room
up in the One Hundred and Eighties.
/ earn my living by teaching class
of little Greek, Italian and Russian
children down in an East side school,
and I don't move in any other society.
1 have a bad temper. I'm afraid my
pupils suffer good deal at times. NO
doubt, / am more studious than most
girls but like the movies and candy
and all sorts of frivolous things very
much. Now, how do you like the re-
touching?"
Well" he admitted gravely. II
rather think it improves the portrait:
it makes it SO much more human.
They fell silent again, watching the
sunshine the celored trees
You are quite right about one
thing" siad the girl presently. II love
the trees and the fields and the sky.
1 was brought up in the country, and
1 don't believe 1 could stand 1t here
in these endless miles of brick and
stone, If it were not for the park
II come here often myself" the man
said DO you?"
Every Sunday afternoon. I like
this spot best of all; the view is SO
beautiful"
so do L.
The sun had left the trees and they
could see the lights of the city twin
Killing like brilliant stars.
DO you know" said the man, ris-
ing, Il think my experiment is not
going to be a failure. after all. tho IL
has not resulted as I expected
Perhaps 1t won't be-" answered the
girl quietly.
There was moments pause. Then:
Il will say only-good-night, he
said.
Goodnight" she answered.
He turned and walked along the
darkening path. As he reached the
bend he broke into cheerful whistle.
The girl. smiling, walked briskiy
away. She was wondering what she
would wear next Sunday afternoon,
and he was trying to decide IL Il
would be wise to take a box of candy
with him.