I sought vainly to discover the Land of sympathy that linked this heterogeneous group together. thought at first of the old adage, Misery loves company," and that sooner or later I might be asked to assist some worthy cause, such as subscribing for a few bonds in the Beachcomber's Ca-operative Society, Id., but quite the contrary was the case. I broached the subject as delicately as possible to my friend, the cartoonist, offering firn a temporary loan to be distributed éemong his fellow members, or a contribution that could be devoted to the good of the cause, "T know your heart's in the right place, old: friend," he replied, "but, you see, you have missed entirely the joy of living. Here, we are all philosophers of life, each contributing an idea or an experience that may help the other fellow on his way. If we were to locomo organized or commercialized all the romance and adventure of life would be ruined. The very fact that the majority of us do not know where the next meal is coming from,—and care less—furnishes the dash of absinthe in the cocktail of the struggle for existence.
"Some men become drunk with by wine or overstimulated by excitement of some sort. We derive our amusement from calmly contemplating the rest of the world, not in a cynical manner, but from the pedestal of those who have seen life in all its phases, and found it exceeding good. Until you cast aside the outward shackles of society it is impossible to appreciate your fellow men, because the veneer of society is usually too thick "for the real You to shine forth. One who is bound down by the continuous petty tyrannies of modern existence frequently becomes blind to the things which, after all, are the only things that count. The motto of our association is "Lovers of Life" and we try to show each day that we are worthy of the precious of life, by making the way a little
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.