The Birmingham age-herald., 1920-07-23
Andrew and Imogene Little Life Condolences in the Ex- perience of Couple Philosophie Though Married.
 By ROE FULKERS0N

They were in the cafe after the the atre- Andrew had finished his portion of lobster salad and sat looking around the room with a glum expression on his face.
 Aren't you having a good timer asked Imogene.
 Well, I would hardly say that" he replied seriously. Its just that these people who come in here to eat persist in disappointing me. I seem to have lost my ability to size 'em up. All the big leaguers eat like bushers and all the heavyweights eat like preliminary boys.
 Take that couple over there by the window for example. The man has a forehead with the slant of good coast ing hill and big hairy hands which remind one of the days of our arboreal ancestors when we swung from limb to limb. He has little French doll of | girl with him with flaxen hair and china blue eyes who isn't any bigger than minute.
 They sat down and when they gave their order, he ordered chicken sand vich and that little chicken has started to eat right through the menu from soup to nuts
 oltllnS Il6Hl HcAt to InClu 1S a lltlle anaemic man with big shell specs and with him a woman who reminds me of the days when we used to pay ten cents to see the biggest woman alive in a circus side show. The little man Is burrowing his way into r-bone steak as big as door mat and she is nibbling st an order of Roque tort cheese and some saltine waters.
 Il tell you it's all wrong, honey, it's all wrong.
 Just back of you is a woman who looks as though she hadn't strength o crank up a tea wagon and steer it across parquetry floor. She has just finished a broiled lobster and is now scratching around among the shells looking for one bite she has overlooked. like a starved dog picking at a shin bone.
 Across at another table are a man and a woman in the full panoply of evening dress, which shows that the man has just stepped from under the tape of one of the best tailors in town and that the woman patronizes a mo- diste instead of a dressmaker. and they are eating pigs feet instead of aibbling at pato-de- oie- gras as their clothes would indicate.
 Just back of them sits an old man into whose face old Father Time has carved little wrinkles like those a small boy with a jack-knife carves in his desk at school With him is a prim little old lady with tight fitting gray bonnet, from under which is peeking a ruching of snow white hair. They should be drinking tea and nibbing dry toast; but instead of that they have a blazing chafin dish of lobster newberg md the old gentleman is. serving him. self in a manner that would make any Johnnie green with envy.
 What's wrong with this world any way? Old men and women are doing the new dances with white- e-cravated young reformers are holding mass meetings and trying to correct our morals. Young men with bulging brows guzzle red-eyed on the sly, while low browed roughneckes are becoming sen sationa1 evangelists
 'sWhat's the answer?"
 What do I look like I wanted to eat?" asked Imogene.
 ''Nothing." said Andrew promptly.
 Then I will have meringue glace just to show you that you still cannot guess what people are going to eat by the way they look"