a long time he does not cease to think of himself as one of the "young fellows." The very intensity and singleness of his efforts are due, in fact, to a youthful pride and doggedness developed under a sense that the Old Men are watching the youngster critically.
BUT then comes a season when a lot of things, unimpressive singly, happen together and become impressive. His wife gaily discovers three gray hairs, one above his left ear, two above his right. "Yes," says his daughter, kissing a spot at the back of his head, "but Dad will never be gray!" At about the same time he discovers that he needs a stronger pair of glasses. His dentist who has hitherto passed him easily through the semiannual inspection now suggests an extensive plan of bridge construction. He still feels quite fit; but on the way home he mutters to himself with a playful grimness: "Aha! Baldness, Blindness, and Toothlessness are scouting out a position before
