Page 101 - 1927 Hartridge

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Perfection
What is perfection? All men have sought it for centuries, many have thought they found it, a few have placed it beyond the realms of possibility and striven only to come as near as possible to it. Yet each of these has had a different conception of the term.
d'he Greek athlete steps out to toe the mark. His figure is tall and symmetrical, and crowned by a head of noble proportions. The muscles ripple smoothly beneath the taut skin. A perfect man! But is he? Has he brains, character, high ideals? Or has he devoted his life to the
development of his body, forgetting those other equally important qual­ ities?
Down the highway comes a low hum, heralding the swift approach of “at last, the perfect car!” (Read the advertisements in any paper.) Beautiful streamlines, the latest in headlights, a gleaming, nickel-trimmed. gray body; an object wonderful to behold. Under the hood murmurs a
faultless engine, silent, and above all, fast. But how many manufacturers
have been truly convinced that they had at last attained the highest point
of perfection in their cars, only to find more improvements the following
?
womanly perfection. The graceful lines, which melt cold marble into warm glowing flesh and blood could have been created only by the hand
of genius. Today she stands, still beautiful, still a masterpiece, but arm­ less— and nothing can be perfect without completeness.
Into the sawdust ring stalks a silky setter, disdainfully unaware of the being at the other end of his leash, of the staring, admiring faces about the enclosure, of the critical eye of the judge. His coat is a warm red.
year
The Venus de Milo has stood enthroned for centuries, the symbol of
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