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Reverie Of A Bachelor

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Puff I This cigar- cost a pretty penny too - is execrable. I feel like throwing it away, only blowing the smoke into rings is a amnsement that I hate to forego. Pnff 1 Now, that ring is a positivo work of art. Pity it has to go up - .in smoke. Rings of smoke - they are very like marriage rings. The delttsion lasts about as long. They are infinitely more amnsing - and lesa wearisome. Fancy being marriedl B-r-rl No more bohemianism, no cakes and ale - nor champagne, either - no pipes and punch. Instead- a drowsy fire - a clatter of dishes from the kitchen - a wife knittíng socks for the inevitable family. Later- a fnll fledged paterfamilias - bnying groceries and paying money to the school book trusts - growing posy over "when I was a young fellow, sir." I shudder to think of it. Besides, it is so much pleasanter to play at playing the game than really to play it. It is very pleasant to make love - and that is why marriage is so nnpleasant; one cant make love then. Making love is a game that should always be played on the progressive plan. With the STime partner always it becomes dreadfully monotonous. It is for that reason that I pity the married man. To flutter from flower to flowerf never bestowing affection on any, but affecting to adore all- that is the bachelor's privüege. But, you say, one cannot make love with gray hairs. Au old beau is the most ridiculous of men. Yes, you are right. But it is not necessary to be always making love. As one grows old there are so many other hobbies. Puff! How blue that smoke is! A kind of fading, ethereal blue, not tangible in words or from the palette. A blue like the blue of a pair of eyes - ah, what glorious eyes they are - set in a marble white frame- like the blue and white loves of Dresden china. I wonder, by the way, if she meant all Bhe said- with those eyes- at the Bronson's that night! She said- a good deaL She is really- not half bad. Rose Alwin - a pretty name - rather. Rose - nm. she will stül be Roseif- . Well- the fact is - between me and the blue smoke -her face has been haunting me lüe a ghost. I might- marry the ghost From what her eyes 8aid that night - she wonldn't say no. If I were to throw away this cigar- pnt on my hat and gloves, and go to her- what an exquisito joke it would be - considering what I said about marriage just now. PnLfl By jove, 1 will do itl Pah, goodby, cigar - even bad things have an end. This glove - comes on too easily- denced bad fonn. üm- how dust will settle on a man's hat. Now- 1 think Til do. What's that? The city post. H'm. Dun's bilis. Ah- a woman's hand! Wha- at? "Mr. and Mrs. Alwin announce the wedding of their daughter, Rose" ügh. How chili the room seems. I must - light a fresh


Old News
Ann Arbor Argus