him, it may well teach us to be chary of extravagant hopes for the
future. Even the League of Nations, when one contemplates the sad case
of Mr. Flint, becomes a rather anemic safeguard. We had better keep Mr.
Flint in mind through the New Year as a symbol of human error and
disappointment. And the best of it is, my dear Time, that you, too, may
be a little careless. Perhaps one of these days you may doze a little
and we shall steal a few hours of timeless bliss. Shall we see a little
ad in the papers:

LOST--Sixty valuable minutes, said to have been stolen by the
unworthy human race. If found, please return to Father Time, and no
questions asked.

Well, my dear Time, we approach the Zero Hour. I hope you will have a
Happy New Year, and conduct yourself with becoming restraint. So live,
my dear fellow, that we may say, "A good Time was enjoyed by all." As
the hands of the clock go over the top and into the No Man's Land of
the New Year, good luck to you!

Your obedient servant!




WHAT MEN LIVE BY


What a delicate and rare and gracious art is the art of conversation!
With what a dexterity and skill the bubble of speech must be maneuvered
if mind is to meet and mingle with mind.