Evening star., 1925-06-12
THIS AND THAT
BY CHARLES Z. TRACEWELL.

way Of carefully selected gasoline and
oil, and yet does not give one seconds
thought to the food and drink he puts
into his own physical machine.
No matter how soundly one sleeps,
or how pleasant the occupation Of
slumbering seems to him, the best part
of it all comes during those delicious,
heart-rending moments in the early
dawn when he realizes that he must
get up at last.
How the ingenuity of man has been
exerted, over the ages, to outwit that
ctfice! One must get up-but not too
quickly. One must arise, and greet
the dawn-but gently.
Haul me not out of bed forcibly, but
let me arise as l please, leisurely, like
a gentleman, like a well bred cat, who
does a thing because he wants to. not
because he is made to do it.
Let US get up, then, not like galley
slaves. scourged to a task, but in a
dignified manner, beftting those who
are supposedly captains of their own
souls, masters of their own so-called
fates.
One very good way to outwit the
clock is to set the darn thing a half
hour ahead of time, SO that when 1t
goes off at o'clock-or so its hands
say--in reality it will be but $50!
This pleasant subterfuge has been
practiced by countless millions of
men and women, with the best re-
suits, because it allows them to re-
vel in the peak point of the high
art of sleep. 1t permits them to roll
over and take another nap!
A wonderful sleepy feeling bathes
the sleeper. He is awake, but not
very awake. His eyes will not open
all the way only partly. His other
facilities partake Of the same limited
nature.
His legs refuse to get him out of
bed. The spirit, even, is not willing.
There is only one wish in his mind,
and that is to go back to sleep. All
the previous hours of slumber are as
naught in his benumbed mind.
They are as If they had never
been, unless he gets another sweet
half hour with Morpheus, who has
been slandered these centuries by
naming a drug after him.
So he rolls over.
All. what a roll is there, my coun-
round the world, at o'clock every
morning. 1t is the thunder of a mil
lion sleepers going back for another
little sleep.
Mother. may I go back to sleep?
But remember-the clock has Just gone Off
m afraid you will have TO run.
What care we, If we have to run
later? Time to come does not bother
us. 1t is time now, the actual pres
ent, that worries us. and our onlv
worry is whether we shall get up.
or go to sleep again.
We turn over from the right side
to the back. Now is the time of de-
cision. Now. or never, will we jump
up, jump out, rub our eyes. Now
is the time, indeed. for all good men
to come to the aid of their party:
but now is the time for just another
little nap, because we set that alarm
clock half an hour ahead, last night
and we know II.
We are awake enough to be acutely
conscious of the fact that 1t is only
$3.50 o'clock. The clock cannot fool
us. The departing tread of the milk
man sounds from the front walk. That
energetic fellow is always on time to
the dot. The clink of his bottles on
the steps marks $3.50 better than any
timepiece.
Our left hand lazily. seeks its ia
vorite place under the right side of
the pillow.
We roll over. Let the heather rage.
We do not mind him-we are sound
asleep.