〃It　is　　engendered　in　the　eyes。〃　　There　are　three　kinds　of　beautiesI　was　　foreordained　to　be　homiletic；　I　can　never　stick　to　a　story。
  The　first　is　the　freckle…faced；　snub…nosed　girl　whom　you　like。　　The　　second　is　Maud　Adams。　　The　third　is；　or　are；　the　ladies　in　　Bouguereau's　paintings。　　Ileen　Hinkle　was　the　fourth。　　She　was　the　　mayoress　of　Spotless　Town。　　There　were　a　thousand　golden　apples　coming　　to　her　as　Helen　of　the　Troy　laundries。
  The　Parisian　Restaurant　was　within　a　radius。　　Even　from　beyond　its　　circumference　men　rode　in　to　Paloma　to　win　her　smiles。　　They　got　them。　　　One　mealone　smileone　dollar。　　But；　with　all　her　impartiality；　　Ileen　seemed　to　favor　three　of　her　admirers　above　the　rest。　　According　　to　the　rules　of　politeness；　I　will　mention　myself　last。
  The　first　was　an　artificial　product　known　as　Bryan　Jacksa　name　that　　had　obviously　met　with　reverses。　　Jacks　was　the　outcome　of　paved　　cities。　　He　was　a　small　man　made　of　some　material　resembling　flexible　　sandstone。　　His　hair　was　the　color　of　a　brick　Quaker　meeting…house；　　his　eyes　were　twin　cranberries；　his　mouth　was　like　the　aperture　under　　a　drop…letters…here　sign。
  He　knew　every　city　from　Bangor　to　San　Francisco；　thence　north　to　　Portland；　thence　S。　45　E。　to　a　given　point　in　Florida。　　He　had　　mastered　every　art；　trade；　game；　business；　profession；　and　sport　in　　the　world；　had　been　present　at；　or　hurrying　on　his　way　to；　every　head…　line　event　that　had　ever　occurred　between　oceans　since　he　was　five　　years　old。　　You　might　open　the　atlas；　place　your　finger　at　random　upon　　the　name　of　a　town；　and　Jacks　would　tell　you　the　front　names　of　three　　prominent　citizens　before　you　could　close　it　again。　　He　spoke　　patronizingly　and　even　disrespectfully　of　Broadway；　Beacon　Hill；　　Michigan；　Euclid；　and　Fifth　avenues；　and　the　St。　Louis　Four　Courts。　　　Compared　with　him　as　a　cosmopolite；　the　Wandering　Jew　would　have　　seemed　a　mere　hermit。　　He　had　learned　everything　the　world　could　teach　　him；　and　he　would　tell　you　about　it。
  I　hate　to　be　reminded　of　Pollock's　Course　of　Time；　and　so　do　you；　but　　every　time　I　saw　Jacks　I　would　think　of　the　poet's　description　of　　another　poet　by　the　name　of　G。　G。　Byron　who　〃Drank　early；　deeply　　drankdrank　draughts　that　common　millions　might　have　quenched；　then　　died　of　thirst　because　there　was　no　more　to　drink。〃
  That　fitted　Jacks；　except　that；　instead　of　dying；　he　came　to　Paloma；　　which　was　about　the　same　thing。　　He　was　a　telegrapher　and　station…　and　　express…agent　at　seventy…five　dollars　a　month。　　Why　a　young　man　who　　knew　everything　and　could　do　everything　was　content　to　serve　in　such　　an　obscure　capacity　I　never　could　understand；　although　he　let　out　a　　hint　once　that　it　was　as　a　personal　favor　to　the　president　and　　stockholders　of　the　S。　P。　Ry。　Co。
  One　more　line　of　description；　and　I　turn　Jacks　over　to　you。　　He　wore　　bright　blue　clothes；　yellow　shoes；　and　a　bow　tie　made　of　the　same　　cloth　as　his　shirt。
  My　rival　No。2　was　Bud　Cunningham；　whose　services　had　been　engaged　by　a　　ranch　near　Paloma　to　assist　in　compelling　refractory　cattle　to　keep　　within　the　bounds　of　decorum　and　order。　　Bud　was　the　only　cowboy　off　　the　stage　that　I　ever　saw　who　looked　like　one　on　it。　　He　wore　the　　sombrero；　the　chaps；　and　the　handkerchief　tied　at　the　back　of　his　　neck。
  Twice　a　week　Bud　rode　in　from　the　Val　Verde　Ranch　to　sup　at　the　　Parisian　Restaurant。　　He　rode　a　many…high…handed　Kentucky　horse　at　a　　tremendously　fast　lope；　which　animal　he　would　rein　up　so　suddenly　　under　the　big　mesquite　at　the　corner　of　the　brush　shelter　that　his　　hoofs　would　plough　canals　yards　long　in　the　loam。
  Jacks　and　I　were　regular　boarders　at　the　restaurant；　of　course。
  The　front　room　of　the　Hinkle　House　was　as　neat　a　little　parlor　as　　there　was　in　the　black…waxy　country。　　It　was　all　willow　rocking…　chairs；　and　home…knit　tidies；　and　albums；　and　conch　shells　in　a　row。　　　And　a　little　upright　piano　in　one　comer。
  Here　Jacks　and　Bud　and　Ior　sometimes　one　or　two　of　us；　according　to　　our　good…luckused　to　sit　of　evenings　when　the　tide　of　trade　was　　over；　and　〃visit〃　Miss　Hinkle。
  Ileen　was　a　girl　of　ideas。　　She　was　destined　for　higher　things　（if　　there　can　be　anything　higher）　than　taking　in　dollars　all　day　through　a　　barbed…wire　wicket。　　She　had　read　and　listened　and　thought。　　Her　looks　　would　have　formed　a　career　for　a　less　ambitious　girl；　but；　rising　　superior　to　mere　beauty；　she　must　establish　something　in　the　nature　of　　a　salonthe　only　one　in　Paloma。
  〃Don't　you　think　that　Shakespeare　was　a　great　writer？〃　she　would　ask；　　with　such　a　pretty　little　knit　of　her　arched　brows　that　the　late　　Ignatius　Donnelly；　himself；　had　he　seen　it；　could　scarcely　have　saved　　his　Bacon。
  Ileen　was　of　the　opinion；　also；　that　Boston　is　more　cultured　than　　Chicago；　that　Rosa　Bonheur　was　one　of　the　greatest　of　women　painters；　　that　Westerners　are　more　spontaneous　and　open…hearted　than　Easterners；　　that　London　must　be　a　very　foggy　city；　and　that　California　must　be　　quite　lovely　in　the　springtime。　　And　of　many　other　opinions　indicating　　a　keeping　up　with　the　world's　best　thought。
  These；　however；　were　but　gleaned　from　hearsay　and　evidence：　Ileen　had　　theories　of　her　own。　　One；　in　particular；　she　disseminated　to　us　　untiringly。　　Flattery　she　detested。　　Frankness　and　honesty　of　speech　　and　action；　she　declared；　were　the　chief　mental　ornaments　of　man　and　　woman。　　If　ever　she　could　like　any　one；　it　would　be　for　those　　qualities。
  〃I'm　awfully　weary；〃　she　said；　one　evening；　when　we　three　musketeers　　of　the　mesquite　were　in　the　little　parlor；　〃of　having　compliments　on　　my　looks　paid　to　me。　　I　know　I'm　not　beautiful。〃
  （Bud　Cunningham　told　me　afterward　that　it　was　all　he　could　do　to　keep　　from　calling　her　a　liar　when　she　said　that。）
  〃I'm　only　a　little　Middle…Western　girl；〃　went　on　Ileen；　〃who　justs　　wants　to　be　simple　and　neat；　and　tries　to　help　her　father　make　a　　humble　living。〃
  （Old　Man　Hinkle　was　shipping　a　thousand　silver　dollars　a　month；　clear　　profit；　to　a　bank　in　San　Antonio。＇）＇
  Bud　twisted　around　in　his　chair　and　bent　the　rim　of　his　hat；　from　　which　he　could　never　be　persuaded　to　separate。　　He　did　not　know　　whether　she　wanted　what　she　said　she　wanted　or　what　she　knew　she　　deserved。　　Many　a　wiser　man　has　hesitated　at　deciding。　　Bud　decided。
  〃Whyah；　Miss　Ileen；　beauty；　as　you　might　say；　ain't　everything。　　Not　　sayin'　that　you　haven't　your　share　of　good　looks；　I　always　admired　　more　than　anything　else　about　you　the　nice；　kind　way　you　treat　your　ma　　and　pa。　　Any　one　what's　good　to　their　parents　and　is　a　kind　of　home…　body　don't　specially　need　to　be　too　pretty。〃
  Ileen　gave　him　one　of　her　sweetest　smiles。　　〃Thank　you；　Mr。　　　Cunningham；〃　she　said。　　〃I　consider　that　one　of　the　finest　compliments　　I've　had　in　a　long　time。　　I'd　so　much　rather　hear　you　say　that　than　to　　hear　you　talk　about　my　eyes　and　hair。　　I'm　glad　you　believe　me　when　I　　say　I　don't　like　flattery。〃
  Our　cue　was　there　for　us。　　Bud　had　made　a　good　guess。　　You　couldn't　　lose　Jacks。　　He　chimed　in　next。
  〃Sure　thing；　Miss　Ileen；〃　he　said；　〃the　good…lookers　don't　always　win　　out。　　Now；　you　ain't　bad　looking；　of　course…but　that's　nix…cum…rous。　　　I　knew　a　girl　once　in　Dubuque　with　a　face　like　a　cocoanut；　who　could　　skin　the　cat　twice　on　a　horizontal　bar　without　changing　hands。　　Now；　a　　girl　might　have　the　California　peach　crop　mashed　to　a　marmalade　and　　not　be　able　to　do　that。　　I've　seenerworse　lookers　than　you；　Miss　　Ileen；　but　what　I　like　about　you　is　the　business　way　you've　got　of　　doing　things。　　Cool　and　wisethat's　the　winning　way　for　a　girl。　　Mr。　　Hinkle　told　me　the　other　day　you'd　never　taken　in　a　lead　silver　dollar　　or　a　plugged　one　since　you've　been　on　the　job。　　Now；　that's　the　stuff　　for　a　girlthat's　what　catches　me。〃
  Jacks　got　his　smile；　too。
  〃Thank　you；　Mr。　Jacks；〃　said　Ileen。　　〃If　you　only　knew　how　I　　appreciate　any　one's　being　candid　and　not　a　flatterer！　　I　get　so　tired　　of　people　telling　me　I'm　pretty。　　I　think　it　is　the　loveliest　thing　to　　have　friends　who　tell　you　the　truth。〃
  Then　I　thought　I　saw　an　expectant　look　on　Ileen's　face　as　she　glanced　　toward　me。　　I　had　a　wild；　sudden　impulse　to　dare　fate；　and　tell　her　of　　all　the　beautiful　handiwork　of　the　Great　Artificer　she　was　the　most　　exquisitethat　she　was　a　flawless　pearl　gleaming　pure　and　serene　in　a　　setting　of　black　mud　and　emerald　prairiesthat　she　wasaa　corker；　　and　as　for　mine；　I　cared　not　if　she　were　as　crtiel　as　a　serpent's　　tooth　to　her　fond　parents；　or　if　she　couldn't　tell　a　plugged　dollar　　from　a　bridle　buckle；　if　I　might　sing；　chant；　praise；　glorify；　and　　worship　her　peerless　and　wonderful　beauty。
  But　I　refrained。　　I　feared　the　fate　of　a　flatterer。　　I　had　witnessed　　her　delight　at　the　crafty　and　discreet　words　of　Bud　and　Jacks。　　No！　　　Miss　Hinkle　was　not　one　to　be　beguiled　by　the　plated…silver　tongue　of　　a　flatterer。　　So　I　joined　the　ranks　of　the　candid　and　honest。　　At　once　　I　became　mendacious　and　didactic。
  〃In　all　ages；　Miss　Hinkle；〃　said　I；　〃in　spite　of　the　poetry　and　　romance　of　each；　intellect　in　woman　has　been　admired　more　than　beauty。　　　Even　in　Cleopatra；　herself；　men　found　more　charm　in　her　queenly　mind　　than　in　her　looks。〃
  〃Well；　I　should　think　so！〃　said　Ileen。　　〃I've　seen　pictures　of　her　　that　weren't　so　much。　　she　had