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Page 2 · column 2 of 7 · from the scan, no model involved
was his. He could do what he liked with it, and'he liked doing it. He bnilt great mansions or great factories, whichever he had a mind to. To, save face, he eould endow a college or a charity or a hospital; or he could go and hide his face in a yacht in the Mediterranean. The main thing was that he could do what he likJed. It was the life of Riley.
It inspired in the rest of us many things — envy, unrest, hatred, a sense of. injustice. But it would he stupid of us to forget that it also inspired a curious sense of human dignity and the freedom of the human spirit. It was part of an ancient tradition that men could dream of doing what they pleased.
Maybe you think that all those people you see pictures of leading the life of Riley down on the Flo.rida beaches or Bermuda or California are the idle rich. Do you know who they are? They are members of the clothing trade desperately trying to drum up business. They hire all those pretty models to go down there and loll around in the sun.
The fat ones, of course, are the presidents and vice-presidents and their wives, writing off expenses ' to sales promotion, in a pitiable effort to excite the Rileys of the world to go and buy a lot of resort clothing and come to Florida. '
But Riley’s dead.- The only, people who come sure a bunch of
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