his presence you are a child of
wrath, a hopeless imbecile, and a black sheep all in one, and yet--how
you hate him and how you long to see some brave young David come along
and hit him with a sling shot! Such a man as he, is fitted to bring
the average human to the dust as quickly and as surely as a well aimed
bullet brings down a wild duck.

XXIX.

BALD HEADS AND UNEQUAL CHANCES.

What a superior chance a man has in this world over a woman! In the
matter of physical attributes alone his innings are as far ahead of
hers as the man who carries the banner in a Fourth of July procession
is ahead of the little boy who tugs along behind with the lemonade
pail. The other evening I attended the theatre, and casting my eye
over the audience between acts, I beheld no less than a score of
bald-headed men. They were composed, and even cheerful, under an
infliction that would have ostracized a woman. Imagine a man taking a
bald-headed woman to see the "Railroad of Love!" Imagine a bald-headed
girl with a fat, red neck and white eyelashes being in eager demand for
parties, coaching jubilees or private suppers. There never was a man
so homely, so halt, so deficient in beauty or brain that he could not
get a wife when he wanted, but the candidates for the position of
mistress of any man's household must be pretty, graceful and sweet.
The chances are uneven, my dear, but what are you going to do about it?

XXX.

HUMAN STRAWS.

There is not much credit in being jolly when the joints of life are
well oiled and events move as smoothly as feathers drawn through cream.
The glory lies in maintaining your serenity under adverse
circumstances; in emulating Mark Tapley, and being jolly when there is
not a hand's breadth of blue in all the heavens. There are straws laid
upon us every day, which, if they do not break our backs, at least go
far to loosen the vertebrae of our temper. One of these straws is the
man who expectorates in public places. What shall I do with that man?
I cannot kill him, because there is a law against the violent removal
of even a human straw. To be sure, he is the most insignificant straw
that the wind of destiny blows across the waste of life. He never
will mature a head of wheat though you give him eleven eternities to do
it in. But he serves his purpose, and breaks the back of toleration.

XXXI.

A SALLOW FACED GIRL FOR YOUR PITY.

On the opposite corner sits a half-grown