The Omaha morning bee., 1923-12-30
BE 1T EVER so HUMBLE, ETC.

The most pleasurable thing about
Journey away from home is the last
lap back. OF course, there are always
annoyances such as people who do
not know you have been away. And
possible the neglect OF some one to
change the goldfish water.
There are times when / am obsessed
with the idea that another week in
New York will result in a hurry-up
call of chemists to give me knee-j Jerk
tests, hallucination tryouts and all the
other little fandangos they apply to
the nutty.
When New York begins to pail I
found that / sing louder in the bath,
humble to myself on the streets and
become interested in politics. ! know
then there is only one thing to do
slip the toothbrush into the vest
pocket. put out the cat. sprinkle the
geraniums and catch a choochoo.
Leaving New York becomes a sort
OF Roman holiday. I pity all my
friends who are chained to desks, tele-
phones, rapid lunches and all the
other trials Of our superior civiliza-
ton. I begin to believe the tommy
rot about New York being such a mad
scramble that we forget the higher
thing in life.
II Is Gay Life.
Then / so away. / am thrilled by
contact with fellow travellers. There
is romance about depot attendants,
train reporters and everybody else who
L.. . srs on fsst
sphere. You feel all belong to the
same club.
This goes on for several weeks.
New scenes. New faces. You enjoy
the one the travelling man from
Omaha tells in the smoking room
about Trotzky and the deaf and dumb
waiter. You gaze out the train win
dow and listen TO the song Of the
train wheels. This is the life. Here
today-gone tomorrow.
Why did We ever cling to such
prosaic life when just around the
corner is adventure? There are the
reactions as we thunder into strange
countries. Almost all travellers begin
to dream OF spending the rest OF their
days globe trotting.
We awaken in the morning fairly
dripping sympathy for those we left
behind. Poor old Web is sweating
over n cartoon. SO is Brink. Arthur
has 10 have the next chapter of his
novel done In five days. Ray has to
edit his magazines. And here you
are whizzing through strange lands
not even looking up as you fit
through some town you never saw
before.
Then Comes the Change.
Time means nothing. 1t seems an
ideal existence. The days may run
into weeks and then comes the first
touch of longing for home. You won
der why you haven't heard from so
and.so. You begin To fret because you
didn't call up Steve before you left.
And wherever your are you begin
to feel sorry for people who live there.
What a miserable existence they must
lead? They don't know Rube, Verne
and all the rest Of the good old gang.
You seem to feel whatever town you
are In IL Is not run right. The traf-
flc policemen appear stupid Hotel
clerks don't call you by name. Tho
hotel maids have way OF showing
you they viii be glad when you &c
gone.
You can't find your favorite brand
Of cigars or oigarets without walk
ing several blocks. People look fun
my. The world In askew. You are be-
ginning To he homcsick-and there Is
no misery In the world that anyway
compares to the longing for home
No matter whether You live In "A
| tumbled shack across the railroad
tracks or in the finest palace In "A
state metropolls-you havo a longing
for home. Homesickncss is one NAL
ady drugs cannot reach.