"DARE-DEVILS OF TO-DAY."

Northern Advocate, 19 June 1920, Page 4

"DARE-DEVILS OF TO-DAY."

MAKI-lED MEN'S BRAVERY

(.By W. B. Maxwell.)

It is curious how oue still meets | traces oi the old superstition that bachelors are :i more reckless, splendid race than married men. Above all, there lingers that notion , lhat your hardened bachelor snatches'! from a life a fearful joy because of hi_ disregard of danger, his dare-devil spirit. He it himself; lie certainly fosters the belief iv others. Yet what can be more absurd. When tie stands confessed as having shirkea ihe most reckless thing nowadays? Reckless forsooth! that a man can do— that is, getting married! He really is in the position of a person riding to hounds who has been observed by ail the Held to turn tail at a big f euce, and who jogs along the ianes trying to persuade old ladies in motor cars and flappers in governess carts that he is a tremendous man across country. ' The bravest words of a bachelor are: "Hang the expense!" But what a sorry figure ho cuts even when tested by the essential measure of to-day— the money standard.

He boasts grandly of having been to Paris for a fortnight. Yet so far as cost goes, this Parisian escapade is literally nothing when compared with the performance of his quiet domestic friend in taking wife, children, nurse, and maybe mother-in-law, for the summer holiday at Felixstowe. A fleabite, a drop in the ocean. Th t married man only wishes he could get off as cheap. THE AIRY SINGLE MAN. "I dropped twenty pounds at bridge last, night,", says the bachelor in the train; and he yawns magnificently— the yawn of a lion after a night spent in ferocious adventure. "Did you really?" says the father of a largv family, looking impressed, hypnotised by the force of the ancient tradition; oblivious of the fact that ho ha_ dropped twice that sum this morning on (he way to the station, when he told Hie local builder to make a good job of Iho leaky roof at Laburnum House.'And he will never get his revenge. The local builder will go on playing with him vcar after year and always winn-

No, it is the married man who really "goes it," doing things every day (and thinking nothing of them) that would frighten an ordinary bachelor out of his wits.

8. c the gay and debonair celibate buying flowers for a pretty lady. "Those carnations are half a guinea," says the girl assistant, "and the roses are fifteen and six."

With such an air as would be smugly vain-glorious in the hero of a hundred ballads, he puts the roses into the trembling hands of his fair companion. "Oh, how can I thank you, Mr Jones? You arc too generous, to lavish." ;

And as he goes away with her he murmurms: "Not at all," or perhaps even explains that this is his way—he likes throwing money about.

ONE TERRIFIC GAMBLE.

Now consider the picture of the ordinary married man with his wife and children in one of the big shops in the West End. They march him about from department to department.

Unconsulted, almost forgotten, he hears scraps of portentous conversation and -preserves his lofty composure. "Cheaper in the long run"; "False economy, madam"; "The better the material the greater satisfaction it gives.'' Then all at once tho call sounds again,, "Daphne, tell daddy I'want him. ... Oh, there you are.; Get

out your cheque book, please." v . He pays and looks pleasant. If he hesitated a moment those dear ones would lose their happy trust in him, they would think that he had failed them; his glorious legend would be

gone. And observe that in his case, unlike that of the bachelor, the legend id a real live thing, based on facts Once ho was a bachelor himself—with just enough for one. Then there i-amfi to him the stupendous thought of making it enough for two, and ns many more as Providence choso to bless him with.

By taking all risks, resorting to desperato measure in regard to toil, endurance, push-fulness, he must All the huge monetary deficit. And •_•<> has done it. He has walked, with a cool head and smiling face, on +he precipice of financial ruin; while* the baiclxdor was makiuo; up his diary uf-potty cish and tamely guarding ti competence in the shelter of colourless safety.

The gambling „p_rit! If you judge it by that! Goo .1 .;- m >U3, th- married man's lifo is one terrific gamble He is playing *or the t stakes all the time—for life or death, the happiness or misery <if himself and everybody dependent on him. The husbands and fathers are the dare devils of to-day.