its failure
entailed, was the Jarley safety lightning razor. Its failure was not due
to any lack of merit, for it certainly possessed much that was ingenious
and commendable. The affair was not different in principle from a
lawn-mower. Six little sharp blades set on a cylinder would revolve
rapidly as the pretty machine was pushed up and down the cheek of the
person shaving, and leave the face of that person as smooth as a piece
of velvet; but in announcing it to the world its inventor had made the
unfortunate statement that a child could use it with impunity, and some
would-be smart person on a comic paper took it up and wrote an
undeniably clever article on the futility of inventing a razor for
children. The consequence was that the safety razor was laughed out of
existence, and the additions to his residence which Jarley was going to
pay for out of the proceeds had to be abandoned.

"I don't like a blue funk," he said, "and generally I can find
something to be thankful for at this season; but I'm blest if this year,
beyond the fact that we're all alive, I can see any cause for
celebrating my thankfulness. I haven't enough of it to last ten minutes,
much less a day, what with the positive failure of my inventions, the
loss of income from what I once considered safe investments that have
gone to the wall, and the reduction of my professional earnings, not to
mention the fact that almost at the beginning of my professional year I
am as tired physically and mentally as I ought to be at the finish."

"Oh, well, say you are thankful, anyhow," suggested Mrs. Jarley. "You
will convince others that you are, and maybe, if you say it often
enough, you will convince yourself of the fact."

"Thanks," said Jarley. "It's possibly a good suggestion, but I don't
believe in pretending to be what I'm not. It might convince me that I am
thankful for something, but I don't want to be convinced when I know I'm
not."

Which shows, I think, how very blue Jarley was.

"There's one thing," he added, with a sigh of relief at the
thought--"I'll have a day of rest to-morrow anyhow. I've bought Jack a
football, and he can take it out on the tennis-court and play with it
all day, with intervals for meals."

"Why did you do that?" asked Mrs. Jarley, with a gesture not so much of
indignation as of disapproval. "I think football is such a brutal game;
and if Jack has a football at his present age, when he's in college
he'll want to play. I do