There are two ways, 'tis said, by which to get into "society"--either by flattering or shocking it. But though the writer had the honeyed tongue of the anteater, this is no time to coddle and soothe you with some linseed-poultice sort of caressing lullaby. It's New Year's and I am deliberately setting out to fire up your "dander." Of course, you may be able to prove an alibi, but, otherwise, if these few plodding lines succeed in making you really boiling, red-hot "mad"--(not just angry, you understand)--that will be the best proof that you're still conscious--and there's hope for you. We shudder when we read of "so and so" being picked up unconscious, but I could pick up numbers of people in that pitiable predicament any day--people who somehow got into the business world, strange to say. You stand at the outset of a New Year. Scientists think there have been living beings on this old planet for 500,000 of those time-measures we call years--but there is _only one_ you can be sure of--that's _this_ year. It's a wonder you didn't think of that without being told! Glance back over the old year's glimmering trail now fading into whatever such things fade into. It is strewed with regrets and wasted opportunities that slipped through your careless fingers! Aren't you ashamed? What's the matter with you anyway? Don't you care much? Aren't you interested in the big proposition called "life", more than just enough to watch the procession of progressive mortals passing? You'll never keep up with them if you don't pad right along! Wouldn't you like to strike out for a real goal, eh? You have the stuff in you if you'd just shake yourself a little to rouse your rusting gifts. Don't turn over the key to the bailiff just because you weren't born under a favorable sign in the zodiac. Even if your teacup doesn't read right--pshaw! you wouldn't let a thing like that spoil your future! Never mind if the bumps on your head are in the wrong place; jump into the scuffle and you'll receive any other bumps you need before you're through. A chap is said to have advertised his brains for sale the other day--"good as new--never been used." He never served in The Hudson's Bay, that fellow. No, sir! * * * * *