unusually rosy because of its remoteness.

At the Carlton news stand West bought two morning papers--the
Times for study and the Mail for entertainment and then passed on
into the restaurant. His waiter--a tall soldierly Prussian,
more blond than West himself--saw him coming and, with a nod and
a mechanical German smile, set out for the plate of strawberries
which he knew would be the first thing desired by the American.
West seated himself at his usual table and, spreading out the Daily
Mail, sought his favorite column. The first item in that column
brought a delighted smile to his face:

"The one who calls me Dearest is not genuine or they would write
to me."

Any one at all familiar with English journalism will recognize at
once what department it was that appealed most to West. During
his three weeks in London he had been following, with the keenest
joy, the daily grist of Personal Notices in the Mail. This string
of intimate messages, popularly known as the Agony Column, has long
been an honored institution in the English press. In the days of
Sherlock Holmes it was in the Times that it flourished, and many a
criminal was tracked to earth after he had inserted some alluring
mysterious message in it. Later the Telegraph gave it room; but,
with the advent of halfpenny journalism, the simple souls moved
en masse to the Mail.

Tragedy and comedy mingle in the Agony Column. Erring ones are
urged to return for forgiveness; unwelcome suitors are warned that
"Father has warrant prepared; fly, Dearest One!" Loves that would