When in this
state of mind there is no use in telling him that he is not the only
original possessor of a bona fide broken ideal. He'll show you a
little superficial scratch and say in husky tones, 'see this great
wound it has made in my constitution, it will never heal. Happiness
is an iridescent dream. Go and leave me to my fate! 'Then he'll heave
a sigh which he thinks comes from a broken heart, but which really
emanates from a dyspeptic condition, caused by lack of exercise. After
a while he finds that this brand of romance is an overcrowded field
and that he doesn't get sufficient sympathy to make it pay. When he
realizes that he is up against the competitive system good and hard,
he bids a fond farewell to sentiment and goes to work.
"It is interesting to watch young women, just after they lose an
ideal. They generally have more time to indulge the 'broken heart'
idea and do it so much more scientifically than men. It is very
effective to lounge about in a darkened room, wearing a pale, hopeless
expression and picturesque negligee. They usually read Faust and
Dante's Inferno and think how sweet it is to suffer.
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