Evening star., 1921-12-18

Kept. Works beautifully, don't you
see? That's the way to look at it.
Don't get panicky. Talk up good
times. For everything's all right, alb
solutely. Join the cheer-up legion.
Spread the glad news. I do. Per-
hops you know my method. I send
out motto postcards. sometimes as
many as a hundred in a week. and
every one Of them reads like this:
Everything is for the best in this
best Of all possible worlds Eth?
Isn't 1t sor
found that he had turned to me.
SO nodded brightly. 1t seemed 80
from where I sat. I'd Just finished
a perfectly lovely combination chop.
with nice piece Of lambs kidney. q
strip Of bacon and a slice Of broiled
tomato on the side, not to mention a
very worthy cup of coffee and hot
Vienna roll. I was warm and comfy.
had a good job, and I'd been told
only that morning that my new hat
with the feather spray over the right
ear was quite smart. Why shouldn't
agree that the universe was run
ming smoothly?
+ X X
A ND then I heard this snort from
Barry. 1t isn't like Barry to make
noises Of that kind at q table, either.
But a glance showed me that he was
quite bitter about something or other.
In fact. he followed up the snort by
remarking explosively, "Tosh"
Il beg pardon?" says Blainey Jones.
"You make me sick" says Barry,
rather crudely.
started to protest. but Barry. his blue
eyes glittering and a denouncing fin-
ger pointed at Blainey. held the floor.
II suppose" says he. you'd be like
that optimistic window cleaner whose
safety belt broke while he was at
work outside the woolworth tower.
AS he passed stenographer looking
from a flfteenth-story window he
called out: Hurray! Nothing's hap
pened to me yet That's your phil
osophy. isn't it?"
Enthusiastically" says Jones, IT
don't get the connection"
Then Til plug you in on a direct
wire, or try to-" says Barry. You
think this is the best possible world,
do you? No use trying to make 1t
better, or mend things. eh? Well.
we'll leave out what's happening in
China, and Russia, and Poland. and
Turkey, and a few other spots. You
could say I didn't know what was
talking about. So we'll stick to this
country. where everything suits you
so well. We produce enough food and
clothing to feed and clothe half the
world-and a. big percentage Of our
people can't get enough to eat or to
wear, while few Of US gouge our
selves and trick out our women in
$1,000 fur coats. We've abolished the
corner saloon and substituted home
brew stills in a million homes. You'd
like to suppress all reading matter.
I suppose. except the stock and bond
market reports-and your mushy
cheer-up postal cards? Bah! That's
why you make me sick. Jones!"
Not that Mr.. Jones took all this in
meek silence. Several times he tried
to break in, but couldn't. So he
squirmed in his chair, he ffuttered his
pudgy fingers. he made gurgling
noises in his throat, and his near-pop
eyes got more bulgy than ever. First
I'd watch Barry and then I'd look at
Jones. It was fascinating. They re-
acted on one another a good deal like
a bantam rooster tackling a turkey
gobbler.
As for me, I'd never heard Barry
make a noise like a soap-box orator
before. and I suppose I either gasped
or eiggled. Perhaps did both. The
one glimpse I had Of Ames Hunt
showed me that he was enjoying the
show, too. He was grinning. But
finally Blainey Jones found his chance
for q comeback. 70"
And you, Mr.. Platt." says he
throatly,. "you don't even amuse me.
You see, I've heard parior boashevists
rant like that quite often. We sent