Life — July 21, 1910 — page 16: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

104 “LIFE: The Change in Gayley AYLE drum life for some forty-odd years, before he began to realize what a treadmill most persons made of it. The light came to him one day as he was going to his home in the suburbs on the: five: than a dozen years, with the exception of s and. holidays. had lived a correct and ordinarily hum- five, as he had done for more Sun A train-boy came through selling books in limp leather bindings with the startling title lettered across in gilt: Are You Dead or -ilive? What Do You Know About It? He bought one, taking it to be a puzzle of some sort that would amuse the children, and then he started to read it This marked the change in Gayley. He began to re-organize his existence first hy following simple food fads. He took up vegetarianism and chewed his food rather ostentatiously, although he did not insist on the rest of the family doing so Then he brought home a window tent and slept with his head out doors nights and a strong gale blowing through the room, He put in a quarter of an hour on rising in deep breathing, and his wife was pleased to remark that he did not secm so immersed in business cares as before. Just then, though, he read about the benefits of oral as- sertion, and she couldn't understand it or explain it to the neighbors, Gayley found a passage in the book which said it was hurtful to keep things to one’s self. athy with your ideas or dis- “If you have no one in symp said like 10 bore persons with what 1 the book, “go in a vacant room, shut the door and speak out whatever you have to say exactly as though you were talking to a friend. When you come out you will find that the sub- ject, whatever it may be, will cease to nag at you.” It was at this point that Gayley got as far as the chapter on “Correcting a Too Serious Facial Expression.’’ He gave from twenty to thirty minutes each day, sitting before a mir- ror, smiling at his own reflection in the glass, asserting loudly and_ pleasantly “Tam Joy!’ “Lam Radiance! “Tam Mirth! “Tam Laughter! With these words the smile would gradually broaden into chuckle, ending in a hearty laugh, Gayley explained that i was taking out his wrinkles, but when the spring came, Mrs Gayley, somewhat troubled, suggested that he go out in the park mornings So he took the book with him, and when he reached a little stretch of green lawn he took off his shoes and stocking and began to follow Chapter XVI: “Go out wider the bluc sky and romp and run abo' ¢ a child or a healthy animal at play.’” ‘ow and then he would stop to rest, open the book and ine y be on your mind tone alo: “Tt is not raining rain to me— It's raining daffodits!’* A policeman watched him for several mornings and then he tried to ch: © Gayley “G'wan, now! Back to the ward! "* he said rudely: “it'll be rainin’ pink monkeys to-morro’, I dunno?" But G: and s vley looked him in the eye Tam Youth—I am Gladness! “You're crazy, that’s what you are!" grinned the po- led radiantly, Castlen GCaadi “WON'T YE PLEASE HELP ME, MISTER? 1 AIN'T MAD NOTHIN' T'EAT IN T'REE DAYS. The Dyspeptic: ¢av {or wisw to maps’rt liceman. “On your way, now! You're frightenin’ the squirls 1" Gayley, still smiling, tendered the man a dollar. “Tam Wealth,” he chirped; “1am Power, I am Plenty.”" With that the officer arrested him on a charge of bribery, but Gayley smiled at the judge and said: “ Nothing can harm me! Iam Peace! I am Serenity! I am Love!" “What have you to say for yourself?’ said the judge kindly “A fig for him who frets!” recited Gayley; It is not raining rain to me. It's raining violets? “Where docs this poor man live?‘ demanded the judge. “Where are his shoes and stockings? This is no weather for wading.”’ — But Gayley only purred smilingly : “It is not snowing real snow cai It’s dropping cotton bats!” || | | Gayley isn't quite well yet, but every one in the sanitarium Hit} s he seems perfectly happy. He laughs and sings all day Hi long, and although the doctors insist that he gnashes his teeth, it is simply the fifty-chews-to-a-bite habit that he still prac- 4 tices merely because he likes it. ZB And he croons constantly : Z It is not heiling hail to-day : It's pelting peanuts down! ~tf KM. R. MORGAN a Master of Arts; Mr. James J. Hill an LL.D.! It makes one sorry that Mr. Harriman could not have lived out his time, so that we could see what might have come to him. No ove is virtuous who has never been tempted comicbooks.com