From a shop window on any busy thoroughfare one can study to advantage the faces of the promiscuous throng. The ebb and flood tide of humanity as it surges in and out, hither and yon, here and there.

There is an incessant murmur as they push and shove and talk, but each is so intent upon his goal that there is no disorder or confusion.

There goes an elderly man of dignified mein, a bag in each hand. He seems to be a well-to-do business man going home for the week end. His face is strained and his eye has a weary look as if the world is too much with him. He walks rapidly and leans h is whole body forward in happy anticipation of those moments of peace and quiet that await him at home. Two women pass; one young, dressed in the height of fashion, roughed to the roots of her hair - the other elderly, apparently the mother, with a patie nt woe-begone look on her kind face, had on the simplest of garments. She is trying to keep pace with her flapper daughter who every now and then casts her a bored sophisticated look. A nurse maid drags a refractory child who insists on more candy from the bag and its mother.

A day laborer with dinner pail, pick and shovel sings a merry tune as he plods on to his humble home. A group of boys, some with bathing suits under their arms, others with bats and balls reflect the carefree spirit of youth in their happy smiling faces .

Three men pass together. They are engaged in close conversation, and from their dress one recognizes a minister, a merchant and a lawyer. Some move so nervously and hurriedly that one cannot catch the expression in its swift changes to commingled thoug hts.

Now a vendor stops right in the middle of the walk to peddle his wares, but is almost swept from his feet. A group of children come tripping along innocent of why the throng is rushing so, but gleeful of their haste.

So they pass all day long is streams with but little let up: strained, tense, eager, alert, sad, gay, old, young, rich and poor; all caught up in the swift currents of the tide. None look backward, all are bent upon a forward course - where are they goi ng? Why are they rushing? What is it for? What is the end?

Have they asked themselves? No. To-day, to-morrow, on and on: weeks, months, years - it will be the same. Where? You ask again. To their goal - but does it lead anywhere after all. Where - is - the goal?