The reason why I am so well is that I have always been too poor to stay long at a health resort. There are two kinds of women who cannot be reasoned with: the one in love and the one not in love. The best way to preserve the beauty of a finely shaped nose is to keep it out of other people’s business. TOM P. MORGAN. [Illustration: THOSE THAT ARE JOINED TOGETHER BY CHARLES FORT] You are standing on an Eighth Avenue corner, looking down a side street toward the ugly black streak made by the Ninth Avenue elevated railroad. You see peddlers, right hands curving at the sides of their mouths, left hands holding pails of potatoes; a woman with a basket of wash, which is tucked under a sheet; many fire escapes that look like a jumbling of giant gridirons, when seen from the corner. You notice the signs over doorways: a gilded boot; a carpenter’s sign projecting a little farther; glazier’s sign, of stained-glass squares trying to eclipse signs of shoemaker and carpenter; tailor’s sign almost obscuring all of them. In the tailor-shop windows are prints of the latest fashions, labeled, “Types of American Gents.” American gents, going to work, in overalls and sweaters, pause to enjoy the very latest in riding, golf, and hunting costumes, and perhaps go in to order a three-dollar pair of breeches. The tailor shop occupies the first floor of a three-story frame house—a grimy-looking house; its grimy clapboards are stained by streaks of rain dripping from the rusty fire-escape.