Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 40, Number 21, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 19 November 1907 — ADVICE TO YOUNG MEN [ARTICLE]

ADVICE TO YOUNG MEN

Take the girl, after ahe has been well whirled around a brilliantly lighted room some scores of time to Strauss, Sousa and Herbert, to a secluded corner of a moonlit veranda. Turning your face so that the moonlight falls across it with good effect, look up into the sky and observe: “It Is very lovely!” I have often studied this with Ihe “spot light” on the stage, and know that it causes the eyes .to come out well. In almost a whisper she Is bound to reply, "Beautiful!” for she cannot help noticing your fine profile blanched into a delicate marble, and your large eyes looking almost like twin Mars. Then sigh as you remark: “This time to-morrow I shall see the moon shining on the Hudson from n»y lonely abode in town.” Look for a shade of disappointment on her beautiful face; however, continue without the shadow: “Yes, I must go back to the office, the dally grind; It would not do for a poor devil likp myself to have too long a spell of happiness; It unfits one for the work-aday world again.” Now heave a 60 H. P. sigmfcfter regaining your breath pursue as fellows, and observe all the directions I give; “Yes; I must go back to the grindstone. (Slap your forehead hard.) I shall think —(put the very quintessence of saddened- melancholy In your voice) —]J .shall think (place hand on back of the settee) to-morrow, when I see yonder light, of this place, of this hour, naturally, (let your voice tremble and remove hand), and of something—l mean some one who—some one else.” —— She won’t answer; so keep right on. The following speech should be memorized and recited before a fulllength pier glass. Be sure to be letter perfect in It. No gestures are necessary; just straight talk: “There are Some days, Miss Goldenrod, which we think of at times as forming oases in our life’s desert. My week end at this house has been one to me. There are hours, too, hours when tears rise in the heart and gather t» the eyes almost involuntarily and feeling is stronger than speech—its very intensity depriving us of giving expression to what —to what the heart would fain utter. Have—have I your permission to call this hour mine? May I think of it, In after days, as I shall think of it, oh, how often —may I then think of it as mine?”

Keep your ears open for a tremulous whisper to the effect that “You may.” You should say, “Thank-you,” or “God bless you!” and It Is natural that you should take her hand in yours to give due force to your word?; natural enough, too, that yq» should hold it there beyond The time necessary to give it a gentle squeeze. Let the moon play an important part in the impressive silence that will follow the aforesaid squeeze. In theatrical parlance, let the moon “do the leading business” and hold the center of the stage for a brief moment. Now, are you ready? “Miss Gold —Gwendolen! for this once—(passion must ring in your sunburned throat) —I cannot bear this, longer. I know how weak it is; but I cannot, cannot help myself. Gwendolen, (or whatever her name is), do you not see that I love you? Forgive me my weakness, pardon it as springing—as springing from the strength of my love. I did not mean to have told you this. How could the struggling, unsuccessful —(I always use “author,” but you may chance to be a bank clerk or a real estate broker) —author, the penniless, disappointed artist who has seen the dream of his ambitious youth fade and die away under the blighting Influence of —of dastard enemies, leaving him almost without a hope, how could such a mam ask you to share his lot? —a lot not on Fifth avenue, a lot not even 25 by 100? Ay, even though he saw in you the realization of his ideal, though since he has known you his thoughts have known none else; even th§n he< could not tell you this. The very pride which has been the chief obstacle to his success in life prevented him. This foolish weakness, which made him forget his purpose for the moment your noble nature will forgive, I know. Gopd-bye, Miss Goldenrod — I had rather not face the people Inside just now. Good-bye! Goodbye! Will you think of me sometimes when in after years, when —when — when you are happy, and I —Will you think of me then as one who staked his all on a vain hope which his sense of honor bade him give up, though it was to drive him forth again into the world a soulless vagabond? Good-bye, summer, good-bye! 'Good-bye for £ver! I cannot stay In New York, fdi 1 I might see you In the autumn, and It— It—wouldn’t do, you know.” You will require a short rest after delivering these lines. You will find the hand that lies in yours quite passive. Look in her face and you will see tears glistening in her eyes. Tenderly kiss her good-bye, and, like the good, honest American you are, inquire, “Will you be my wife?" It Is dollars to doughnuts that the girl replies, “I will.” For the last 15 minutes she has been admiring you as an actor; now she loves you as a man of business.