Yes--a great many people endure sharp twinges of discontent at
the sight of Awning Avenue,--people who can't afford to give parties,
and who wish they could,--pretty, sweet girls who never go to a dance in
their lives, and long with all their innocent hearts for a
glimpse,--just _one_ glimpse!--of what seems to them inexhaustible,
fairy-like delight,--lonely folks, who imagine in their simplicity that
all who are privileged to pass between the lines of hired tropical
foliage aforementioned, must perforce be the best and most united of
friends--hungry men and women who picture, with watering mouths, the
supper-table that lies _beyond_ the awning, laden with good things, of
the very names of which they are hopelessly ignorant,--while now and
then a stern, dark-browed Thinker or two may stalk by and metaphorically
shake his fist at all the waste, extravagance, useless luxury, humbug,
and hypocrisy Awning Avenue usually symbolizes, and may mutter in his
beard, like an old-fashioned tragedian, "A time _will_ come!" Yes, Sir
Thinker!--it will most undoubtedly--it _must_--but not through you--not
through any mere human agency.
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