ike this better than
the other way. You could ignite yourself by friction almost any time,
if you got hold of the right kind of a chamois skin rubber, but this is
quite different and highly soothing. You are beginning to really enjoy
the sensation when she roguishly pats the back of your hand--pitty
pat--as a signal that the operation is now over. You pay the check and
tip the lady--tip her fifty cents if you wish to be regarded as a lovely
jumpman or only twenty-five cents if you are satisfied with being a
vurry nice fella--and you secure your hat and step forth into the open
with the feeling of one who has taken a trip into a distant domain and
on the whole has rather enjoyed it.

You stand in the sunlight and waggle your fingers and you are struck
with the desirable glitter that flits from finger tip to finger tip
like a heleograph winking on a mountain top. It is indeed a pleasing
spectacle. You decide that hereafter you will always glitter so. It is
cheaper than wearing diamonds and much more refined, and so you take
good care of your fingers all that day and carefully refrain from
dipping them in the brine while engaged in the well known indoor sport
of spearing for dill pickles at the business men's lunch.

But the next morning when you wake up the desirable glitter is gone.
You only glimmer dully--your fingers do not sparkle and dazzle and
scintillate as they did. As Francois Villon, the French poet would
undoubtedly have said had manicures been known at the time he was
writing his poems, "Where are the manicures of yesterday?" instead of
making it, "Where are the snows of yesteryear?" there being no answer
ready for either question, except that the manicures of yesterday like
the snows of yesteryear are never there when you start looking for them.
They have just naturally got up and gone away, leaving no forwarding
address.

You have now been launched upon your career as a manicuree. You never
get over it. You either get married and your wife does your nails for
you, thus saving you large sums of money, but failing to impart the high
degree of polish and the spice of romance noticed in connection with
the same job when done away from home, or you continue to patronize the
regular establishments and become known in time as Polished Percival,
the Pet of the Manicure Parlor. But in either event your hands which
once were hands and nothing more, have become a source of added trouble
and expense to you.

Speaki