“Well, it’s worth your while,” he continued dryly, “and the ‘cure’ may serve you well some day. I met this man at Long Beach. I was sitting under a large umbrella-tent watching the bathers and feeling like “_Sam Hill_,” when a fine, strapping young man came dripping out of the waves and sauntered up near me. It was a hot day and noting my ample shade he came over and looked down at me good-naturedly. I would have given all I possessed for his robust health and grand physique. I motioned to some unoccupied space under my tent, which he accepted. “‘Not sick, I hope?’ said he enquiringly. “‘Oh-no!’ I blurted back at him. ‘I’m feeling like a young kitten.’ Then I glowered at him ferociously. That made him laugh, and he was a good hand at it. I turned away from him in disgust, and let him do his worst. Finally he calmed down and quite soberly remarked: “‘_You’re not sick_--nothing the matter with you! I’ll write a policy on you in a week’s time if you’ll do as I direct. I am a life insurance agent and I mean what I say.’ “‘I’ll take you up,’ I bellowed in reply, ‘and I’ll bet you five hundred you lose!’ I was pretty much exasperated at the fellow. “‘You’re on,’ said he, ‘but I won’t take your five hundred if I win. Let’s put it this way--if you are well enough to pass a rigid physical examination one week from today will you let me write you up for a fifty-thousand dollar policy?’ “‘I will, young man, and you can start your _shell game_ at your pleasure. But I won’t stand for any _science work or nonsense_. If you bore me I shall tell you so and that means all bets are off and you go your way.’ “‘We’ll begin now,’ said he quietly, but there was a certain air of confidence in his voice that made me wonder. “‘First, I’m going to tell you about yourself,’ he went on to say. ‘You’re pretty much like an engineer who went along forty years without an accident and then his engine broke down and both went to the ditch in a heap. You’ve been successful in business, anyone would know that at a glance, but you’ve made a mess of your physical resources.’ I nodded. He was right thus far. [Illustration: A one-minute reverie] “‘You started in early at the game, your affairs grew, your responsibilities enlarged, and you worked your gray matter overtime without stopping to oil up your machinery. In other words, you have never played, you haven’t laughed, you haven’t mingled with people in a social way. So now you are pretty near ready for the scrap heap. Am I right?’ “‘Uhuh--go on,’ said I. “‘You once came pretty near asking a fine woman to marry you, but something came up and you forgot it.’ “‘Yep--you’re right, Mr. Mind-Reader. Proceed,’ I said, ‘and whatever you do or say _don’t mind my feelings_.’ He noted the resentment in my voice I presume, for he waited some time before going on.