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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* - - - - - -Scanned by Charles Keller with OmniPage Professional OCR software - - - - - -BABBITT - -BY -SINCLAIR LEWIS - - -To EDITH WHARTON - - - - -BABBITT - -CHAPTER I - - -THE towers of Zenith aspired above the morning mist; austere towers of steel -and cement and limestone, sturdy as cliffs and delicate as silver rods. -They were neither citadels nor churches, but frankly and beautifully -office-buildings. - -The mist took pity on the fretted structures of earlier generations: the Post -Office with its shingle-tortured mansard, the red brick minarets of hulking -old houses, factories with stingy and sooted windows, wooden tenements colored -like mud. The city was full of such grotesqueries, but the clean towers were -thrusting them from the business center, and on the farther hills were shining -new houses, homes--they seemed--for laughter and tranquillity. - -Over a concrete bridge fled a limousine of long sleek hood and noiseless -engine. These people in evening clothes were returning from an all-night -rehearsal of a Little Theater play, an artistic adventure considerably -illuminated by champagne. Below the bridge curved a railroad, a maze of green -and crimson lights. The New York Flyer boomed past, and twenty lines of -polished steel leaped into the glare. - -In one of the skyscrapers the wires of the Associated Press were closing down. -The telegraph operators wearily raised their celluloid eye-shades after a -night of talking with Paris and Peking. Through the building crawled the -scrubwomen, yawning, their old shoes slapping. The dawn mist spun away. Cues -of men with lunch-boxes clumped toward the immensity of new factories, sheets -of glass and hollow tile, glittering shops where five thousand men worked -beneath one roof, pouring out the honest wares that would be sold up the -Euphrates and across the veldt. The whistles rolled out in greeting a chorus -cheerful as the April dawn; the song of labor in a city built--it seemed--for -giants. - - -II - -There was nothing of the giant in the aspect of the man who was beginning to -awaken on the sleeping-porch of a Dutch Colonial house in that residential -district of Zenith known as Floral Heights. - -His name was George F. Babbitt. He was forty-six years old now, in April, -1920, and he made nothing in particular, neither butter nor shoes nor poetry, -but he was nimble in the calling of selling houses for more than people could -afford to pay. - -His large head was pink, his brown hair thin and dry. His face was babyish in -slumber, despite his wrinkles and the red spectacle-dents on the slopes of his -nose. He was not fat but he was exceedingly well fed; his cheeks were pads, -and the unroughened hand which lay helpless upon the khaki-colored blanket was -slightly puffy. He seemed prosperous, extremely married and unromantic; and -altogether unromantic appeared this sleeping-porch, which looked on one -sizable elm, two respectable grass-plots, a cement driveway, and a corrugated -iron garage. Yet Babbitt was again dreaming of the fairy child, a dream more -romantic than scarlet pagodas by a silver sea. - -For years the fairy child had come to him. Where others saw but Georgie -Babbitt, she discerned gallant youth. She waited for him, in the darkness -beyond mysterious groves. When at last he could slip away from the crowded -house he darted to her. His wife, his clamoring friends, sought to follow, -but he escaped, the girl fleet beside him, and they crouched together on a -shadowy hillside. She was so slim, so white, so eager! She cried that he was -gay and valiant, that she would wait for him, that they would sail-- - -Rumble and bang of the milk-truck. - -Babbitt moaned; turned over; struggled back toward his dream. He could see -only her face now, beyond misty waters. The furnace-man slammed the basement -door. A dog barked in the next yard. As Babbitt sank blissfully into a dim -warm tide, the paper-carrier went by whistling, and the rolled-up Advocate -thumped the front door. Babbitt roused, his stomach constricted with alarm. -As he relaxed, he was pierced by the familiar and irritating rattle of some -one cranking a Ford: snap-ah-ah, snap-ah-ah, snap-ah-ah. Himself a pious -motorist, Babbitt cranked with the unseen driver, with him waited through taut -hours for the roar of the starting engine, with him agonized as the roar -ceased and again began the infernal patient snap-ah-ah--a round, flat sound, a -shivering cold-morning sound, a sound infuriating and inescapable. Not till -the rising voice of the motor told him that the Ford was moving was he -released from the panting tension. He glanced once at his favorite tree, elm -twigs against the gold patina of sky, and fumbled for sleep as for a drug. He -who had been a boy very credulous of life was no longer greatly interested in -the possible and improbable adventures of each new day. - -He escaped from reality till the alarm-clock rang, at seven-twenty. - - -III - -It was the best of nationally advertised and quantitatively produced -alarm-clocks, with all modern attachments, including cathedral chime, -intermittent alarm, and a phosphorescent dial. Babbitt was proud of being -awakened by such a rich device. Socially it was almost as creditable as buying -expensive cord tires. - -He sulkily admitted now that there was no more escape, but he lay and detested -the grind of the real-estate business, and disliked his family, and disliked -himself for disliking them. The evening before, he had played poker at Vergil -Gunch's till midnight, and after such holidays he was irritable before -breakfast. It may have been the tremendous home-brewed beer of the -prohibition-era and the cigars to which that beer enticed him; it may have -been resentment of return from this fine, bold man-world to a restricted -region of wives and stenographers, and of suggestions not to smoke so much. - -From the bedroom beside the sleeping-porch, his wife's detestably cheerful -"Time to get up, Georgie boy," and the itchy sound, the brisk and scratchy -sound, of combing hairs out of a stiff brush. - -He grunted; he dragged his thick legs, in faded baby-blue pajamas, from under -the khaki blanket; he sat on the edge of the cot, running his fingers through -his wild hair, while his plump feet mechanically felt for his slippers. He -looked regretfully at the blanket--forever a suggestion to him of freedom and -heroism. He had bought it for a camping trip which had never come off. It -symbolized gorgeous loafing, gorgeous cursing, virile flannel shirts. - -He creaked to his feet, groaning at the waves of pain which passed behind his -eyeballs. Though he waited for their scorching recurrence, he looked blurrily -out at the yard. It delighted him, as always; it was the neat yard of a -successful business man of Zenith, that is, it was perfection, and made him -also perfect. He regarded the corrugated iron garage. For the -three-hundred-and-sixty-fifth time in a year he reflected, "No class to that -tin shack. Have to build me a frame garage. But by golly it's the only thing -on the place that isn't up-to-date!" While he stared he thought of a community -garage for his acreage development, Glen Oriole. He stopped puffing and -jiggling. His arms were akimbo. His petulant, sleep-swollen face was set in -harder lines. He suddenly seemed capable, an official, a man to contrive, to -direct, to get things done. - -On the vigor of his idea he was carried down the hard, dean, unused-looking -hall into the bathroom. - -Though the house was not large it had, like all houses on Floral Heights, an -altogether royal bathroom of porcelain and glazed tile and metal sleek as -silver. The towel-rack was a rod of clear glass set in nickel. The tub was -long enough for a Prussian Guard, and above the set bowl was a sensational -exhibit of tooth-brush holder, shaving-brush holder, soap-dish, sponge-dish, -and medicine-cabinet, so glittering and so ingenious that they resembled an -electrical instrument-board. But the Babbitt whose god was Modern Appliances -was not pleased. The air of the bathroom was thick with the smell of a heathen -toothpaste. "Verona been at it again! 'Stead of sticking to Lilidol, like -I've re-peat-ed-ly asked her, she's gone and gotten some confounded stinkum -stuff that makes you sick!" - -The bath-mat was wrinkled and the floor was wet. (His daughter Verona -eccentrically took baths in the morning, now and then.) He slipped on the mat, -and slid against the tub. He said "Damn!" Furiously he snatched up his tube -of shaving-cream, furiously he lathered, with a belligerent slapping of the -unctuous brush, furiously he raked his plump cheeks with a safety-razor. It -pulled. The blade was dull. He said, "Damn--oh--oh--damn it!" - -He hunted through the medicine-cabinet for a packet of new razor-blades -(reflecting, as invariably, "Be cheaper to buy one of these dinguses and strop -your own blades,") and when he discovered the packet, behind the round box of -bicarbonate of soda, he thought ill of his wife for putting it there and very -well of himself for not saying "Damn." But he did say it, immediately -afterward, when with wet and soap-slippery fingers he tried to remove the -horrible little envelope and crisp clinging oiled paper from the new blade. -Then there was the problem, oft-pondered, never solved, of what to do with the -old blade, which might imperil the fingers of his young. As usual, he tossed -it on top of the medicine-cabinet, with a mental note that some day he must -remove the fifty or sixty other blades that were also temporarily, piled up -there. He finished his shaving in a growing testiness increased by his -spinning headache and by the emptiness in his stomach. When he was done, his -round face smooth and streamy and his eyes stinging from soapy water, he -reached for a towel. The family towels were wet, wet and clammy and vile, all -of them wet, he found, as he blindly snatched them--his own face-towel, his -wife's, Verona's, Ted's, Tinka's, and the lone bath-towel with the huge welt -of initial. Then George F. Babbitt did a dismaying thing. He wiped his face -on the guest-towel! It was a pansy-embroidered trifle which always hung there -to indicate that the Babbitts were in the best Floral Heights society. No one -had ever used it. No guest had ever dared to. Guests secretively took a -corner of the nearest regular towel. - -He was raging, "By golly, here they go and use up all the towels, every -doggone one of 'em, and they use 'em and get 'em all wet and sopping, and -never put out a dry one for me--of course, I'm the goat!--and then I want one -and--I'm the only person in the doggone house that's got the slightest doggone -bit of consideration for other people and thoughtfulness and consider there -may be others that may want to use the doggone bathroom after me and -consider--" - -He was pitching the chill abominations into the bath-tub, pleased by the -vindictiveness of that desolate flapping sound; and in the midst his wife -serenely trotted in, observed serenely, "Why Georgie dear, what are you doing? -Are you going to wash out the towels? Why, you needn't wash out the towels. -Oh, Georgie, you didn't go and use the guest-towel, did you?" - -It is not recorded that he was able to answer. - -For the first time in weeks he was sufficiently roused by his wife to look at -her. - - -IV - -Myra Babbitt--Mrs. George F. Babbitt--was definitely mature. She had creases -from the corners of her mouth to the bottom of her chin, and her plump neck -bagged. But the thing that marked her as having passed the line was that she -no longer had reticences before her husband, and no longer worried about not -having reticences. She was in a petticoat now, and corsets which bulged, and -unaware of being seen in bulgy corsets. She had become so dully habituated to -married life that in her full matronliness she was as sexless as an anemic -nun. She was a good woman, a kind woman, a diligent woman, but no one, save -perhaps Tinka her ten-year-old, was at all interested in her or entirely aware -that she was alive. - -After a rather thorough discussion of all the domestic and social aspects of -towels she apologized to Babbitt for his having an alcoholic headache; and he -recovered enough to endure the search for a B.V.D. undershirt which had, he -pointed out, malevolently been concealed among his clean pajamas. - -He was fairly amiable in the conference on the brown suit. - -"What do you think, Myra?" He pawed at the clothes hunched on a chair in -their bedroom, while she moved about mysteriously adjusting and patting her -petticoat and, to his jaundiced eye, never seeming to get on with her -dressing. "How about it? Shall I wear the brown suit another day?" - -"Well, it looks awfully nice on you." - -"I know, but gosh, it needs pressing." - -"That's so. Perhaps it does." - -"It certainly could stand being pressed, all right." - -"Yes, perhaps it wouldn't hurt it to be pressed." - -"But gee, the coat doesn't need pressing. No sense in having the whole darn -suit pressed, when the coat doesn't need it." - -"That's so." - -"But the pants certainly need it, all right. Look at them--look at those -wrinkles--the pants certainly do need pressing." - -"That's so. Oh, Georgie, why couldn't you wear the brown coat with the blue -trousers we were wondering what we'd do with them?" - -"Good Lord! Did you ever in all my life know me to wear the coat of one suit -and the pants of another? What do you think I am? A busted bookkeeper?" - -"Well, why don't you put on the dark gray suit to-day, and stop in at the -tailor and leave the brown trousers?" - -"Well, they certainly need--Now where the devil is that gray suit? Oh, yes, -here we are." - -He was able to get through the other crises of dressing with comparative -resoluteness and calm. - -His first adornment was the sleeveless dimity B.V.D. undershirt, in which he -resembled a small boy humorlessly wearing a cheesecloth tabard at a civic -pageant. He never put on B.V.D.'s without thanking the God of Progress that -he didn't wear tight, long, old-fashioned undergarments, like his -father-in-law and partner, Henry Thompson. His second embellishment was -combing and slicking back his hair. It gave him a tremendous forehead, -arching up two inches beyond the former hair-line. But most wonder-working of -all was the donning of his spectacles. - -There is character in spectacles--the pretentious tortoiseshell, the meek -pince-nez of the school teacher, the twisted silver-framed glasses of the old -villager. Babbitt's spectacles had huge, circular, frameless lenses of the -very best glass; the ear-pieces were thin bars of gold. In them he was the -modern business man; one who gave orders to clerks and drove a car and played -occasional golf and was scholarly in regard to Salesmanship. His head -suddenly appeared not babyish but weighty, and you noted his heavy, blunt -nose, his straight mouth and thick, long upper lip, his chin overfleshy but -strong; with respect you beheld him put on the rest of his uniform as a Solid -Citizen. - -The gray suit was well cut, well made, and completely undistinguished. It was -a standard suit. White piping on the V of the vest added a flavor of law and -learning. His shoes were black laced boots, good boots, honest boots, -standard boots, extraordinarily uninteresting boots. The only frivolity was in -his purple knitted scarf. With considerable comment on the matter to Mrs. -Babbitt (who, acrobatically fastening the back of her blouse to her skirt with -a safety-pin, did not hear a word he said), he chose between the purple scarf -and a tapestry effect with stringless brown harps among blown palms, and into -it he thrust a snake-head pin with opal eyes. - -A sensational event was changing from the brown suit to the gray the contents -of his pockets. He was earnest about these objects. They were of eternal -importance, like baseball or the Republican Party. They included a fountain -pen and a silver pencil (always lacking a supply of new leads) which belonged -in the righthand upper vest pocket. Without them he would have felt naked. On -his watch-chain were a gold penknife, silver cigar-cutter, seven keys (the use -of two of which he had forgotten), and incidentally a good watch. Depending -from the chain was a large, yellowish elk's-tooth-proclamation of his -membership in the Brotherly and Protective Order of Elks. Most significant of -all was his loose-leaf pocket note-book, that modern and efficient note-book -which contained the addresses of people whom he had forgotten, prudent -memoranda of postal money-orders which had reached their destinations months -ago, stamps which had lost their mucilage, clippings of verses by T. -Cholmondeley Frink and of the newspaper editorials from which Babbitt got his -opinions and his polysyllables, notes to be sure and do things which he did -not intend to do, and one curious inscription--D.S.S. D.M.Y.P.D.F. - -But he had no cigarette-case. No one had ever happened to give him one, so he -hadn't the habit, and people who carried cigarette-cases he regarded as -effeminate. - -Last, he stuck in his lapel the Boosters' Club button. With the conciseness of -great art the button displayed two words: "Boosters-Pep!" It made Babbitt feel -loyal and important. It associated him with Good Fellows, with men who were -nice and human, and important in business circles. It was his V.C., his -Legion of Honor ribbon, his Phi Beta Kappa key. - -With the subtleties of dressing ran other complex worries. "I feel kind of -punk this morning," he said. "I think I had too much dinner last evening. You -oughtn't to serve those heavy banana fritters." - -"But you asked me to have some." - -"I know, but--I tell you, when a fellow gets past forty he has to look after -his digestion. There's a lot of fellows that don't take proper care of -themselves. I tell you at forty a man's a fool or his doctor--I mean, his own -doctor. Folks don't give enough attention to this matter of dieting. Now I -think--Course a man ought to have a good meal after the day's work, but it -would be a good thing for both of us if we took lighter lunches." - -"But Georgie, here at home I always do have a light lunch." - -"Mean to imply I make a hog of myself, eating down-town? Yes, sure! You'd have -a swell time if you had to eat the truck that new steward hands out to us at -the Athletic Club! But I certainly do feel out of sorts, this morning. -Funny, got a pain down here on the left side--but no, that wouldn't be -appendicitis, would it? Last night, when I was driving over to Verg Gunch's, -I felt a pain in my stomach, too. Right here it was--kind of a sharp shooting -pain. I--Where'd that dime go to? Why don't you serve more prunes at -breakfast? Of course I eat an apple every evening--an apple a day keeps the -doctor away--but still, you ought to have more prunes, and not all these fancy -doodads." - -"The last time I had prunes you didn't eat them." - -"Well, I didn't feel like eating 'em, I suppose. Matter of fact, I think I -did eat some of 'em. Anyway--I tell you it's mighty important to--I was -saying to Verg Gunch, just last evening, most people don't take sufficient -care of their diges--" - -"Shall we have the Gunches for our dinner, next week?" - -"Why sure; you bet." - -"Now see here, George: I want you to put on your nice dinner-jacket that -evening." - -"Rats! The rest of 'em won't want to dress." - -"Of course they will. You remember when you didn't dress for the -Littlefields' supper-party, and all the rest did, and how embarrassed you -were." - -"Embarrassed, hell! I wasn't embarrassed. Everybody knows I can put on as -expensive a Tux. as anybody else, and I should worry if I don't happen to -have it on sometimes. All a darn nuisance, anyway. All right for a woman, -that stays around the house all the time, but when a fellow's worked like the -dickens all day, he doesn't want to go and hustle his head off getting into -the soup-and-fish for a lot of folks that he's seen in just reg'lar ordinary -clothes that same day." - -"You know you enjoy being seen in one. The other evening you admitted you -were glad I'd insisted on your dressing. You said you felt a lot better for -it. And oh, Georgie, I do wish you wouldn't say 'Tux.' It's 'dinner-jacket.'" - -"Rats, what's the odds?" - -"Well, it's what all the nice folks say. Suppose Lucile McKelvey heard you -calling it a 'Tux.'" - -"Well, that's all right now! Lucile McKelvey can't pull anything on me! Her -folks are common as mud, even if her husband and her dad are millionaires! I -suppose you're trying to rub in your exalted social position! Well, let me -tell you that your revered paternal ancestor, Henry T., doesn't even call it a -'Tux.'! He calls it a 'bobtail jacket for a ringtail monkey,' and you couldn't -get him into one unless you chloroformed him!" - -"Now don't be horrid, George." - -"Well, I don't want to be horrid, but Lord! you're getting as fussy as Verona. -Ever since she got out of college she's been too rambunctious to live -with--doesn't know what she wants--well, I know what she wants!--all she wants -is to marry a millionaire, and live in Europe, and hold some preacher's hand, -and simultaneously at the same time stay right here in Zenith and be some -blooming kind of a socialist agitator or boss charity-worker or some damn -thing! Lord, and Ted is just as bad! He wants to go to college, and he -doesn't want to go to college. Only one of the three that knows her own mind -is Tinka. Simply can't understand how I ever came to have a pair of -shillyshallying children like Rone and Ted. I may not be any Rockefeller or -James J. Shakespeare, but I certainly do know my own mind, and I do keep right -on plugging along in the office and--Do you know the latest? Far as I can -figure out, Ted's new bee is he'd like to be a movie actor and--And here I've -told him a hundred times, if he'll go to college and law-school and make good, -I'll set him up in business and--Verona just exactly as bad. Doesn't know what -she wants. Well, well, come on! Aren't you ready yet? The girl rang the bell -three minutes ago." - - -V - -Before he followed his wife, Babbitt stood at the westernmost window of their -room. This residential settlement, Floral Heights, was on a rise; and though -the center of the city was three miles away--Zenith had between three and four -hundred thousand inhabitants now--he could see the top of the Second National -Tower, an Indiana limestone building of thirty-five stories. - -Its shining walls rose against April sky to a simple cornice like a streak of -white fire. Integrity was in the tower, and decision. It bore its strength -lightly as a tall soldier. As Babbitt stared, the nervousness was soothed -from his face, his slack chin lifted in reverence. All he articulated was -"That's one lovely sight!" but he was inspired by the rhythm of the city; his -love of it renewed. He beheld the tower as a temple-spire of the religion of -business, a faith passionate, exalted, surpassing common men; and as he -clumped down to breakfast he whistled the ballad "Oh, by gee, by gosh, by -jingo" as though it were a hymn melancholy and noble. - - - -CHAPTER II - -RELIEVED of Babbitt's bumbling and the soft grunts with which his wife -expressed the sympathy she was too experienced to feel and much too -experienced not to show, their bedroom settled instantly into impersonality. - -It gave on the sleeping-porch. It served both of them as dressing-room, and on -the coldest nights Babbitt luxuriously gave up the duty of being manly and -retreated to the bed inside, to curl his toes in the warmth and laugh at the -January gale. - -The room displayed a modest and pleasant color-scheme, after one of the best -standard designs of the decorator who "did the interiors" for most of the -speculative-builders' houses in Zenith. The walls were gray, the woodwork -white, the rug a serene blue; and very much like mahogany was the -furniture--the bureau with its great clear mirror, Mrs. Babbitt's -dressing-table with toilet-articles of almost solid silver, the plain twin -beds, between them a small table holding a standard electric bedside lamp, a -glass for water, and a standard bedside book with colored illustrations--what -particular book it was cannot be ascertained, since no one had ever opened it. -The mattresses were firm but not hard, triumphant modern mattresses which had -cost a great deal of money; the hot-water radiator was of exactly the proper -scientific surface for the cubic contents of the room. The windows were large -and easily opened, with the best catches and cords, and Holland roller-shades -guaranteed not to crack. It was a masterpiece among bedrooms, right out of -Cheerful Modern Houses for Medium Incomes. Only it had nothing to do with the -Babbitts, nor with any one else. If people had ever lived and loved here, -read thrillers at midnight and lain in beautiful indolence on a Sunday -morning, there were no signs of it. It had the air of being a very good room -in a very good hotel. One expected the chambermaid to come in and make it -ready for people who would stay but one night, go without looking back, and -never think of it again. - -Every second house in Floral Heights had a bedroom precisely like this. - -The Babbitts' house was five years old. It was all as competent and glossy as -this bedroom. It had the best of taste, the best of inexpensive rugs, a -simple and laudable architecture, and the latest conveniences. Throughout, -electricity took the place of candles and slatternly hearth-fires. Along the -bedroom baseboard were three plugs for electric lamps, concealed by little -brass doors. In the halls were plugs for the vacuum cleaner, and in the -living-room plugs for the piano lamp, for the electric fan. The trim -dining-room (with its admirable oak buffet, its leaded-glass cupboard, its -creamy plaster walls, its modest scene of a salmon expiring upon a pile of -oysters) had plugs which supplied the electric percolator and the electric -toaster. - -In fact there was but one thing wrong with the Babbitt house: It was not a -home. - - -II - -Often of a morning Babbitt came bouncing and jesting in to breakfast. But -things were mysteriously awry to-day. As he pontifically tread the upper hall -he looked into Verona's bedroom and protested, "What's the use of giving the -family a high-class house when they don't appreciate it and tend to business -and get down to brass tacks?" - -He marched upon them: Verona, a dumpy brown-haired girl of twenty-two, just -out of Bryn Mawr, given to solici-tudes about duty and sex and God and the -unconquerable bagginess of the gray sports-suit she was now wearing. -Ted--Theodore Roosevelt Babbitt--a decorative boy of seventeen. -Tinka--Katherine--still a baby at ten, with radiant red hair and a thin skin -which hinted of too much candy and too many ice cream sodas. Babbitt did not -show his vague irritation as he tramped in. He really disliked being a family -tyrant, and his nagging was as meaningless as it was frequent. He shouted at -Tinka, "Well, kittiedoolie!" It was the only pet name in his vocabulary, -except the "dear" and "hon." with which he recognized his wife, and he flung -it at Tinka every morning. - -He gulped a cup of coffee in the hope of pacifying his stomach and his soul. -His stomach ceased to feel as though it did not belong to him, but Verona -began to be conscientious and annoying, and abruptly there returned to Babbitt -the doubts regarding life and families and business which had clawed at him -when his dream-life and the slim fairy girl had fled. - -Verona had for six months been filing-clerk at the Gruensberg Leather Company -offices, with a prospect of becoming secretary to Mr. Gruensberg and thus, as -Babbitt defined it, "getting some good out of your expensive college education -till you're ready to marry and settle down." - -But now said Verona: "Father! I was talking to a classmate of mine that's -working for the Associated Charities--oh, Dad, there's the sweetest little -babies that come to the milk-station there!--and I feel as though I ought to -be doing something worth while like that." - -"What do you mean 'worth while'? If you get to be Gruensberg's secretary--and -maybe you would, if you kept up your shorthand and didn't go sneaking off to -concerts and talkfests every evening--I guess you'll find thirty-five or forty -bones a week worth while!" - -"I know, but--oh, I want to--contribute--I wish I were working in a -settlement-house. I wonder if I could get one of the department-stores to let -me put in a welfare-department with a nice rest-room and chintzes and wicker -chairs and so on and so forth. Or I could--" - -"Now you look here! The first thing you got to understand is that all this -uplift and flipflop and settlement-work and recreation is nothing in God's -world but the entering wedge for socialism. The sooner a man learns he isn't -going to be coddled, and he needn't expect a lot of free grub and, uh, all -these free classes and flipflop and doodads for his kids unless he earns 'em, -why, the sooner he'll get on the job and produce--produce--produce! That's -what the country needs, and not all this fancy stuff that just enfeebles the -will-power of the working man and gives his kids a lot of notions above their -class. And you--if you'd tend to business instead of fooling and fussing--All -the time! When I was a young man I made up my mind what I wanted to do, and -stuck to it through thick and thin, and that's why I'm where I am to-day, -and--Myra! What do you let the girl chop the toast up into these dinky little -chunks for? Can't get your fist onto 'em. Half cold, anyway!" - -Ted Babbitt, junior in the great East Side High School, had been making -hiccup-like sounds of interruption. He blurted now, "Say, Rone, you going -to--" - -Verona whirled. "Ted! Will you kindly not interrupt us when we're talking -about serious matters!" - -"Aw punk," said Ted judicially. "Ever since somebody slipped up and let you -out of college, Ammonia, you been pulling these nut conversations about -what-nots and so-on-and-so-forths. Are you going to--I want to use the car -tonight." - -Babbitt snorted, "Oh, you do! May want it myself!" Verona protested, "Oh, -you do, Mr. Smarty! I'm going to take it myself!" Tinka wailed, "Oh, papa, -you said maybe you'd drive us down to Rosedale!" and Mrs. Babbitt, "Careful, -Tinka, your sleeve is in the butter." They glared, and Verona hurled, "Ted, -you're a perfect pig about the car!" - -"Course you're not! Not a-tall!" Ted could be maddeningly bland. "You just -want to grab it off, right after dinner, and leave it in front of some skirt's -house all evening while you sit and gas about lite'ature and the highbrows -you're going to marry--if they only propose!" - -"Well, Dad oughtn't to EVER let you have it! You and those beastly Jones boys -drive like maniacs. The idea of your taking the turn on Chautauqua Place at -forty miles an hour!" - -"Aw, where do you get that stuff! You're so darn scared of the car that you -drive up-hill with the emergency brake on!" - -"I do not! And you--Always talking about how much you know about motors, and -Eunice Littlefield told me you said the battery fed the generator!" - -"You--why, my good woman, you don't know a generator from a differential." -Not unreasonably was Ted lofty with her. He was a natural mechanic, a maker -and tinkerer of machines; he lisped in blueprints for the blueprints came. - -"That'll do now!" Babbitt flung in mechanically, as he lighted the gloriously -satisfying first cigar of the day and tasted the exhilarating drug of the -Advocate-Times headlines. - -Ted negotiated: "Gee, honest, Rone, I don't want to take the old boat, but I -promised couple o' girls in my class I'd drive 'em down to the rehearsal of -the school chorus, and, gee, I don't want to, but a gentleman's got to keep -his social engagements." - -"Well, upon my word! You and your social engagements! In high school!" - -"Oh, ain't we select since we went to that hen college! Let me tell you there -isn't a private school in the state that's got as swell a bunch as we got in -Gamma Digamma this year. There's two fellows that their dads are millionaires. -Say, gee, I ought to have a car of my own, like lots of the fellows." Babbitt -almost rose. "A car of your own! Don't you want a yacht, and a house and lot? -That pretty nearly takes the cake! A boy that can't pass his Latin -examinations, like any other boy ought to, and he expects me to give him a -motor-car, and I suppose a chauffeur, and an areoplane maybe, as a reward for -the hard work he puts in going to the movies with Eunice Littlefield! Well, -when you see me giving you--" - -Somewhat later, after diplomacies, Ted persuaded Verona to admit that she was -merely going to the Armory, that evening, to see the dog and cat show. She was -then, Ted planned, to park the car in front of the candy-store across from the -Armory and he would pick it up. There were masterly arrangements regarding -leaving the key, and having the gasoline tank filled; and passionately, -devotees of the Great God Motor, they hymned the patch on the spare -inner-tube, and the lost jack-handle. - - -Their truce dissolving, Ted observed that her friends were "a scream of a -bunch-stuck-up gabby four-flushers." His friends, she indicated, were -"disgusting imitation sports, and horrid little shrieking ignorant girls." -Further: "It's disgusting of you to smoke cigarettes, and so on and so forth, -and those clothes you've got on this morning, they're too utterly -ridiculous--honestly, simply disgusting." - -Ted balanced over to the low beveled mirror in the buffet, regarded his -charms, and smirked. His suit, the latest thing in Old Eli Togs, was -skin-tight, with skimpy trousers to the tops of his glaring tan boots, a -chorus-man waistline, pattern of an agitated check, and across the back a belt -which belted nothing. His scarf was an enormous black silk wad. His flaxen -hair was ice-smooth, pasted back without parting. When he went to school he -would add a cap with a long vizor like a shovel-blade. Proudest of all was his -waistcoat, saved for, begged for, plotted for; a real Fancy Vest of fawn with -polka dots of a decayed red, the points astoundingly long. On the lower edge -of it he wore a high-school button, a class button, and a fraternity pin. - -And none of it mattered. He was supple and swift and flushed; his eyes (which -he believed to be cynical) were candidly eager. But he was not over-gentle. He -waved his hand at poor dumpy Verona and drawled: "Yes, I guess we're pretty -ridiculous and disgusticulus, and I rather guess our new necktie is some -smear!" - -Babbitt barked: "It is! And while you're admiring yourself, let me tell you -it might add to your manly beauty if you wiped some of that egg off your -mouth!" - -Verona giggled, momentary victor in the greatest of Great Wars, which is the -family war. Ted looked at her hopelessly, then shrieked at Tinka: "For the -love o' Pete, quit pouring the whole sugar bowl on your corn flakes!" - -When Verona and Ted were gone and Tinka upstairs, Babbitt groaned to his wife: -"Nice family, I must say! I don't pretend to be any baa-lamb, and maybe I'm a -little cross-grained at breakfast sometimes, but the way they go on -jab-jab-jabbering, I simply can't stand it. I swear, I feel like going off -some place where I can get a little peace. I do think after a man's spent his -lifetime trying to give his kids a chance and a decent education, it's pretty -discouraging to hear them all the time scrapping like a bunch of hyenas and -never--and never--Curious; here in the paper it says--Never silent for one -mom--Seen the morning paper yet?" - -"No, dear." In twenty-three years of married life, Mrs. Babbitt had seen the -paper before her husband just sixty-seven times. - -"Lots of news. Terrible big tornado in the South. Hard luck, all right. But -this, say, this is corking! Beginning of the end for those fellows! New York -Assembly has passed some bills that ought to completely outlaw the socialists! -And there's an elevator-runners' strike in New York and a lot of college boys -are taking their places. That's the stuff! And a mass-meeting in Birmingham's -demanded that this Mick agitator, this fellow De Valera, be deported. Dead -right, by golly! All these agitators paid with German gold anyway. And we -got no business interfering with the Irish or any other foreign government. -Keep our hands strictly off. And there's another well-authenticated rumor from -Russia that Lenin is dead. That's fine. It's beyond me why we don't just step -in there and kick those Bolshevik cusses out." - -"That's so," said Mrs. Babbitt. - -"And it says here a fellow was inaugurated mayor in overalls--a preacher, too! -What do you think of that!" - -"Humph! Well!" - -He searched for an attitude, but neither as a Republican, a Presbyterian, an -Elk, nor a real-estate broker did he have any doctrine about preacher-mayors -laid down for him, so he grunted and went on. She looked sympathetic and did -not hear a word. Later she would read the headlines, the society columns, and -the department-store advertisements. - -"What do you know about this! Charley McKelvey still doing the sassiety stunt -as heavy as ever. Here's what that gushy woman reporter says about last -night: - - -Never is Society with the big, big S more flattered than when they are bidden -to partake of good cheer at the distinguished and hospitable residence of Mr. -and Mrs. Charles L. McKelvey as they were last night. Set in its spacious -lawns and landscaping, one of the notable sights crowning Royal Ridge, but -merry and homelike despite its mighty stone walls and its vast rooms famed for -their decoration, their home was thrown open last night for a dance in honor -of Mrs. McKelvey's notable guest, Miss J. Sneeth of Washington. The wide hall -is so generous in its proportions that it made a perfect ballroom, its -hardwood floor reflecting the charming pageant above its polished surface. -Even the delights of dancing paled before the alluring opportunities for -tete-a-tetes that invited the soul to loaf in the long library before the -baronial fireplace, or in the drawing-room with its deep comfy armchairs, its -shaded lamps just made for a sly whisper of pretty nothings all a deux; or -even in the billiard room where one could take a cue and show a prowess at -still another game than that sponsored by Cupid and Terpsichore. - - -There was more, a great deal more, in the best urban journalistic style of -Miss Elnora Pearl Bates, the popular society editor of the Advocate-Times. But -Babbitt could not abide it. He grunted. He wrinkled the newspaper. He -protested: "Can you beat it! I'm willing to hand a lot of credit to Charley -McKelvey. When we were in college together, he was just as hard up as any of -us, and he's made a million good bucks out of contracting and hasn't been any -dishonester or bought any more city councils than was necessary. And that's a -good house of his--though it ain't any 'mighty stone walls' and it ain't worth -the ninety thousand it cost him. But when it comes to talking as though -Charley McKelvey and all that booze-hoisting set of his are any blooming bunch -of of, of Vanderbilts, why, it makes me tired!" - -Timidly from Mrs. Babbitt: "I would like to see the inside of their house -though. It must be lovely. I've never been inside." - -"Well, I have! Lots of--couple of times. To see Chaz about business deals, -in the evening. It's not so much. I wouldn't WANT to go there to dinner with -that gang of, of high-binders. And I'll bet I make a whole lot more money than -some of those tin-horns that spend all they got on dress-suits and haven't got -a decent suit of underwear to their name! Hey! What do you think of this!" - -Mrs. Babbitt was strangely unmoved by the tidings from the Real Estate and -Building column of the Advocate-Times: - - Ashtabula Street, 496--J. K. Dawson to - Thomas Mullally, April 17, 15.7 X 112.2, - mtg. $4000 . . . . . . . . . . . . . Nom - -And this morning Babbitt was too disquieted to entertain her with items from -Mechanics' Liens, Mortgages Recorded, and Contracts Awarded. He rose. As he -looked at her his eyebrows seemed shaggier than usual. Suddenly: - -"Yes, maybe--Kind of shame to not keep in touch with folks like the McKelveys. -We might try inviting them to dinner, some evening. Oh, thunder, let's not -waste our good time thinking about 'em! Our little bunch has a lot liver times -than all those plutes. Just compare a real human like you with these neurotic -birds like Lucile McKelvey--all highbrow talk and dressed up like a plush -horse! You're a great old girl, hon.!" - -He covered his betrayal of softness with a complaining: "Say, don't let Tinka -go and eat any more of that poison nutfudge. For Heaven's sake, try to keep -her from ruining her digestion. I tell you, most folks don't appreciate how -important it is to have a good digestion and regular habits. Be back 'bout -usual time, I guess." - -He kissed her--he didn't quite kiss her--he laid unmoving lips against her -unflushing cheek. He hurried out to the garage, muttering: "Lord, what a -family! And now Myra is going to get pathetic on me because we don't train -with this millionaire outfit. Oh, Lord, sometimes I'd like to quit the whole -game. And the office worry and detail just as bad. And I act cranky and--I -don't mean to, but I get--So darn tired!" - - - -CHAPTER III - -To George F. Babbitt, as to most prosperous citizens of Zenith, his motor car -was poetry and tragedy, love and heroism. The office was his pirate ship but -the car his perilous excursion ashore. - -Among the tremendous crises of each day none was more dramatic than starting -the engine. It was slow on cold mornings; there was the long, anxious whirr -of the starter; and sometimes he had to drip ether into the cocks of the -cylinders, which was so very interesting that at lunch he would chronicle it -drop by drop, and orally calculate how much each drop had cost him. - -This morning he was darkly prepared to find something wrong, and he felt -belittled when the mixture exploded sweet and strong, and the car didn't even -brush the door-jamb, gouged and splintery with many bruisings by fenders, as -he backed out of the garage. He was confused. He shouted "Morning!" to Sam -Doppelbrau with more cordiality than he had intended. - -Babbitt's green and white Dutch Colonial house was one of three in that block -on Chatham Road. To the left of it was the residence of Mr. Samuel -Doppelbrau, secretary of an excellent firm of bathroom-fixture jobbers. His -was a comfortable house with no architectural manners whatever; a large wooden -box with a squat tower, a broad porch, and glossy paint yellow as a yolk. -Babbitt disapproved of Mr. and Mrs. Doppelbrau as "Bohemian." From their -house came midnight music and obscene laughter; there were neighborhood rumors -of bootlegged whisky and fast motor rides. They furnished Babbitt with many -happy evenings of discussion, during which he announced firmly, "I'm not -strait-laced, and I don't mind seeing a fellow throw in a drink once in a -while, but when it comes to deliberately trying to get away with a lot of -hell-raising all the while like the Doppelbraus do, it's too rich for my -blood!" - -On the other side of Babbitt lived Howard Littlefield, Ph.D., in a strictly -modern house whereof the lower part was dark red tapestry brick, with a leaded -oriel, the upper part of pale stucco like spattered clay, and the roof -red-tiled. Littlefield was the Great Scholar of the neighborhood; the -authority on everything in the world except babies, cooking, and motors. He -was a Bachelor of Arts of Blodgett College, and a Doctor of Philosophy in -economics of Yale. He was the employment-manager and publicity-counsel of the -Zenith Street Traction Company. He could, on ten hours' notice, appear before -the board of aldermen or the state legislature and prove, absolutely, with -figures all in rows and with precedents from Poland and New Zealand, that the -street-car company loved the Public and yearned over its employees; that all -its stock was owned by Widows and Orphans; and that whatever it desired to do -would benefit property-owners by increasing rental values, and help the poor -by lowering rents. All his acquaintances turned to Littlefield when they -desired to know the date of the battle of Saragossa, the definition of the -word "sabotage," the future of the German mark, the translation of "hinc illae -lachrimae," or the number of products of coal tar. He awed Babbitt by -confessing that he often sat up till midnight reading the figures and -footnotes in Government reports, or skimming (with amusement at the author's -mistakes) the latest volumes of chemistry, archeology, and ichthyology. - -But Littlefield's great value was as a spiritual example. Despite his strange -learnings he was as strict a Presbyterian and as firm a Republican as George -F. Babbitt. He confirmed the business men in the faith. Where they knew only -by passionate instinct that their system of industry and manners was perfect, -Dr. Howard Littlefield proved it to them, out of history, economics, and the -confessions of reformed radicals. - -Babbitt had a good deal of honest pride in being the neighbor of such a -savant, and in Ted's intimacy with Eunice Littlefield. At sixteen Eunice was -interested in no statistics save those regarding the ages and salaries of -motion-picture stars, but--as Babbitt definitively put it--"she was her -father's daughter." - -The difference between a light man like Sam Doppelbrau and a really fine -character like Littlefield was revealed in their appearances. Doppelbrau was -disturbingly young for a man of forty-eight. He wore his derby on the back of -his head, and his red face was wrinkled with meaningless laughter. But -Littlefield was old for a man of forty-two. He was tall, broad, thick; his -gold-rimmed spectacles were engulfed in the folds of his long face; his hair -was a tossed mass of greasy blackness; he puffed and rumbled as he talked; his -Phi Beta Kappa key shone against a spotty black vest; he smelled of old pipes; -he was altogether funereal and archidiaconal; and to real-estate brokerage and -the jobbing of bathroom-fixtures he added an aroma of sanctity. - -This morning he was in front of his house, inspecting the grass parking -between the curb and the broad cement sidewalk. Babbitt stopped his car and -leaned out to shout "Mornin'!" Littlefield lumbered over and stood with one -foot up on the running-board. - -"Fine morning," said Babbitt, lighting--illegally early--his second cigar of -the day. - -"Yes, it's a mighty fine morning," said Littlefield. - -"Spring coming along fast now." - -"Yes, it's real spring now, all right," said Littlefield. - -"Still cold nights, though. Had to have a couple blankets, on the -sleeping-porch last night." - -"Yes, it wasn't any too warm last night," said Littlefield. - -"But I don't anticipate we'll have any more real cold weather now." - -"No, but still, there was snow at Tiflis, Montana, yesterday," said the -Scholar, "and you remember the blizzard they had out West three days -ago--thirty inches of snow at Greeley, Colorado--and two years ago we had a -snow-squall right here in Zenith on the twenty-fifth of April." - -"Is that a fact! Say, old man, what do you think about the Republican -candidate? Who'll they nominate for president? Don't you think it's about -time we had a real business administration?" - -"In my opinion, what the country needs, first and foremost, is a good, sound, -business-like conduct of its affairs. What we need is--a business -administration!" said Littlefield. - -"I'm glad to hear you say that! I certainly am glad to hear you say that! I -didn't know how you'd feel about it, with all your associations with colleges -and so on, and I'm glad you feel that way. What the country needs--just at -this present juncture--is neither a college president nor a lot of monkeying -with foreign affairs, but a good--sound economical--business--administration, -that will give us a chance to have something like a decent turnover." - -"Yes. It isn't generally realized that even in China the schoolmen are giving -way to more practical men, and of course you can see what that implies." - -"Is that a fact! Well, well!" breathed Babbitt, feeling much calmer, and much -happier about the way things were going in the world. "Well, it's been nice to -stop and parleyvoo a second. Guess I'll have to get down to the office now -and sting a few clients. Well, so long, old man. See you tonight. So long." - - -II - -They had labored, these solid citizens. Twenty years before, the hill on -which Floral Heights was spread, with its bright roofs and immaculate turf and -amazing comfort, had been a wilderness of rank second-growth elms and oaks and -maples. Along the precise streets were still a few wooded vacant lots, and the -fragment of an old orchard. It was brilliant to-day; the apple boughs were -lit with fresh leaves like torches of green fire. The first white of cherry -blossoms flickered down a gully, and robins clamored. - -Babbitt sniffed the earth, chuckled at the hysteric robins as he would have -chuckled at kittens or at a comic movie. He was, to the eye, the perfect -office-going executive--a well-fed man in a correct brown soft hat and -frameless spectacles, smoking a large cigar, driving a good motor along a -semi-suburban parkway. But in him was some genius of authentic love for his -neighborhood, his city, his clan. The winter was over; the time was come for -the building, the visible growth, which to him was glory. He lost his dawn -depression; he was ruddily cheerful when he stopped on Smith Street to leave -the brown trousers, and to have the gasoline-tank filled. - -The familiarity of the rite fortified him: the sight of the tall red iron -gasoline-pump, the hollow-tile and terra-cotta garage, the window full of the -most agreeable accessories--shiny casings, spark-plugs with immaculate -porcelain jackets tire-chains of gold and silver. He was flattered by the -friendliness with which Sylvester Moon, dirtiest and most skilled of motor -mechanics, came out to serve him. "Mornin', Mr. Babbitt!" said Moon, and -Babbitt felt himself a person of importance, one whose name even busy -garagemen remembered--not one of these cheap-sports flying around in flivvers. -He admired the ingenuity of the automatic dial, clicking off gallon by gallon; -admired the smartness of the sign: "A fill in time saves getting stuck--gas -to-day 31 cents"; admired the rhythmic gurgle of the gasoline as it flowed -into the tank, and the mechanical regularity with which Moon turned the -handle. - -"How much we takin' to-day?" asked Moon, in a manner which combined the -independence of the great specialist, the friendliness of a familiar gossip, -and respect for a man of weight in the community, like George F. Babbitt. - -"Fill 'er up." - -"Who you rootin' for for Republican candidate, Mr. Babbitt?" - -"It's too early to make any predictions yet. After all, there's still a good -month and two weeks--no, three weeks--must be almost three weeks--well, -there's more than six weeks in all before the Republican convention, and I -feel a fellow ought to keep an open mind and give all the candidates a -show--look 'em all over and size 'em up, and then decide carefully." - -"That's a fact, Mr. Babbitt." - -"But I'll tell you--and my stand on this is just the same as it was four years -ago, and eight years ago, and it'll be my stand four years from now--yes, and -eight years from now! What I tell everybody, and it can't be too generally -understood, is that what we need first, last, and all the time is a good, -sound business administration!" - -"By golly, that's right!" - -"How do those front tires look to you?" - -"Fine! Fine! Wouldn't be much work for garages if everybody looked after -their car the way you do." - -"Well, I do try and have some sense about it." Babbitt paid his bill, said -adequately, "Oh, keep the change," and drove off in an ecstasy of honest -self-appreciation. It was with the manner of a Good Samaritan that he shouted -at a respectable-looking man who was waiting for a trolley car, "Have a lift?" -As the man climbed in Babbitt condescended, "Going clear down-town? Whenever I -see a fellow waiting for a trolley, I always make it a practice to give him a -lift--unless, of course, he looks like a bum." - -"Wish there were more folks that were so generous with their machines," -dutifully said the victim of benevolence. "Oh, no, 'tain't a question of -generosity, hardly. Fact, I always feel--I was saying to my son just the -other night--it's a fellow's duty to share the good things of this world with -his neighbors, and it gets my goat when a fellow gets stuck on himself and -goes around tooting his horn merely because he's charitable." - -The victim seemed unable to find the right answer. Babbitt boomed on: - -"Pretty punk service the Company giving us on these car-lines. Nonsense to -only run the Portland Road cars once every seven minutes. Fellow gets mighty -cold on a winter morning, waiting on a street corner with the wind nipping at -his ankles." - -"That's right. The Street Car Company don't care a damn what kind of a deal -they give us. Something ought to happen to 'em." - -Babbitt was alarmed. "But still, of course it won't do to just keep knocking -the Traction Company and not realize the difficulties they're operating under, -like these cranks that want municipal ownership. The way these workmen hold up -the Company for high wages is simply a crime, and of course the burden falls -on you and me that have to pay a seven-cent fare! Fact, there's remarkable -service on all their lines--considering." - -"Well--" uneasily. - -"Darn fine morning," Babbitt explained. "Spring coming along fast." - -"Yes, it's real spring now." - -The victim had no originality, no wit, and Babbitt fell into a great silence -and devoted himself to the game of beating trolley cars to the corner: a -spurt, a tail-chase, nervous speeding between the huge yellow side of the -trolley and the jagged row of parked motors, shooting past just as the trolley -stopped--a rare game and valiant. - -And all the while he was conscious of the loveliness of Zenith. For weeks -together he noticed nothing but clients and the vexing To Rent signs of rival -brokers. To-day, in mysterious malaise, he raged or rejoiced with equal -nervous swiftness, and to-day the light of spring was so winsome that he -lifted his head and saw. - -He admired each district along his familiar route to the office: The bungalows -and shrubs and winding irregular drive ways of Floral Heights. The one-story -shops on Smith Street, a glare of plate-glass and new yellow brick; groceries -and laundries and drug-stores to supply the more immediate needs of East Side -housewives. The market gardens in Dutch Hollow, their shanties patched with -corrugated iron and stolen doors. Billboards with crimson goddesses nine feet -tall advertising cinema films, pipe tobacco, and talcum powder. The old -"mansions" along Ninth Street, S. E., like aged dandies in filthy linen; -wooden castles turned into boarding-houses, with muddy walks and rusty hedges, -jostled by fast-intruding garages, cheap apartment-houses, and fruit-stands -conducted by bland, sleek Athenians. Across the belt of railroad-tracks, -factories with high-perched water-tanks and tall stacks-factories producing -condensed milk, paper boxes, lighting-fixtures, motor cars. Then the business -center, the thickening darting traffic, the crammed trolleys unloading, and -high doorways of marble and polished granite. - -It was big--and Babbitt respected bigness in anything; in mountains, jewels, -muscles, wealth, or words. He was, for a spring-enchanted moment, the lyric -and almost unselfish lover of Zenith. He thought of the outlying factory -suburbs; of the Chaloosa River with its strangely eroded banks; of the -orchard-dappled Tonawanda Hills to the North, and all the fat dairy land and -big barns and comfortable herds. As he dropped his passenger he cried, "Gosh, -I feel pretty good this morning!" III - -Epochal as starting the car was the drama of parking it before he entered his -office. As he turned from Oberlin Avenue round the corner into Third Street, -N.E., he peered ahead for a space in the line of parked cars. He angrily just -missed a space as a rival driver slid into it. Ahead, another car was leaving -the curb, and Babbitt slowed up, holding out his hand to the cars pressing on -him from behind, agitatedly motioning an old woman to go ahead, avoiding a -truck which bore down on him from one side. With front wheels nicking the -wrought-steel bumper of the car in front, he stopped, feverishly cramped his -steering-wheel, slid back into the vacant space and, with eighteen inches of -room, manoeuvered to bring the car level with the curb. It was a virile -adventure masterfully executed. With satisfaction he locked a thief-proof -steel wedge on the front wheel, and crossed the street to his real-estate -office on the ground floor of the Reeves Building. - -The Reeves Building was as fireproof as a rock and as efficient as a -typewriter; fourteen stories of yellow pressed brick, with clean, upright, -unornamented lines. It was filled with the offices of lawyers, doctors, -agents for machinery, for emery wheels, for wire fencing, for mining-stock. -Their gold signs shone on the windows. The entrance was too modern to be -flamboyant with pillars; it was quiet, shrewd, neat. Along the Third Street -side were a Western Union Telegraph Office, the Blue Delft Candy Shop, -Shotwell's Stationery Shop, and the Babbitt-Thompson Realty Company. - -Babbitt could have entered his office from the street, as customers did, but -it made him feel an insider to go through the corridor of the building and -enter by the back door. Thus he was greeted by the villagers. - -The little unknown people who inhabited the Reeves Building -corridors--elevator-runners, starter, engineers, superintendent, and the -doubtful-looking lame man who conducted the news and cigar stand--were in no -way city-dwellers. They were rustics, living in a constricted valley, -interested only in one another and in The Building. Their Main Street was the -entrance hall, with its stone floor, severe marble ceiling, and the inner -windows of the shops. The liveliest place on the street was the Reeves -Building Barber Shop, but this was also Babbitt's one embarrassment. Himself, -he patronized the glittering Pompeian Barber Shop in the Hotel Thornleigh, and -every time he passed the Reeves shop--ten times a day, a hundred times--he -felt untrue to his own village. - -Now, as one of the squirearchy, greeted with honorable salutations by the -villagers, he marched into his office, and peace and dignity were upon him, -and the morning's dissonances all unheard. - -They were heard again, immediately. - -Stanley Graff, the outside salesman, was talking on the telephone with tragic -lack of that firm manner which disciplines clients: "Say, uh, I think I got -just the house that would suit you--the Percival House, in Linton.... Oh, -you've seen it. Well, how'd it strike you? . . . Huh? . . . Oh," -irresolutely, "oh, I see." - -As Babbitt marched into his private room, a coop with semi-partition of oak -and frosted glass, at the back of the office, he reflected how hard it was to -find employees who had his own faith that he was going to make sales. - -There were nine members of the staff, besides Babbitt and his partner and -father-in-law, Henry Thompson, who rarely came to the office. The nine were -Stanley Graff, the outside salesman--a youngish man given to cigarettes and -the playing of pool; old Mat Penniman, general utility man, collector of rents -and salesman of insurance--broken, silent, gray; a mystery, reputed to have -been a "crack" real-estate man with a firm of his own in haughty Brooklyn; -Chester Kirby Laylock, resident salesman out at the Glen Oriole acreage -development--an enthusiastic person with a silky mustache and much family; -Miss Theresa McGoun, the swift and rather pretty stenographer; Miss Wilberta -Bannigan, the thick, slow, laborious accountant and file-clerk; and four -freelance part-time commission salesmen. - -As he looked from his own cage into the main room Babbitt mourned, "McGoun's a -good stenog., smart's a whip, but Stan Graff and all those bums--" The zest of -the spring morning was smothered in the stale office air. - -Normally he admired the office, with a pleased surprise that he should have -created this sure lovely thing; normally he was stimulated by the clean -newness of it and the air of bustle; but to-day it seemed flat--the tiled -floor, like a bathroom, the ocher-colored metal ceiling, the faded maps on the -hard plaster walls, the chairs of varnished pale oak, the desks and -filing-cabinets of steel painted in olive drab. It was a vault, a steel chapel -where loafing and laughter were raw sin. - -He hadn't even any satisfaction in the new water-cooler! And it was the very -best of water-coolers, up-to-date, scientific, and right-thinking. It had cost -a great deal of money (in itself a virtue). It possessed a non-conducting -fiber ice-container, a porcelain water-jar (guaranteed hygienic), a drip-less -non-clogging sanitary faucet, and machine-painted decorations in two tones of -gold. He looked down the relentless stretch of tiled floor at the -water-cooler, and assured himself that no tenant of the Reeves Building had a -more expensive one, but he could not recapture the feeling of social -superiority it had given him. He astoundingly grunted, "I'd like to beat it -off to the woods right now. And loaf all day. And go to Gunch's again -to-night, and play poker, and cuss as much as I feel like, and drink a hundred -and nine-thousand bottles of beer." - -He sighed; he read through his mail; he shouted "Msgoun," which meant "Miss -McGoun"; and began to dictate. - -This was his own version of his first letter: - -"Omar Gribble, send it to his office, Miss McGoun, yours of twentieth to hand -and in reply would say look here, Gribble, I'm awfully afraid if we go on -shilly-shallying like this we'll just naturally lose the Allen sale, I had -Allen up on carpet day before yesterday and got right down to cases and think -I can assure you--uh, uh, no, change that: all my experience indicates he is -all right, means to do business, looked into his financial record which is -fine--that sentence seems to be a little balled up, Miss McGoun; make a couple -sentences out of it if you have to, period, new paragraph. - -"He is perfectly willing to pro rate the special assessment and strikes me, am -dead sure there will be no difficulty in getting him to pay for title -insurance, so now for heaven's sake let's get busy--no, make that: so now -let's go to it and get down--no, that's enough--you can tie those sentences up -a little better when you type 'em, Miss McGoun--your sincerely, etcetera." - -This is the version of his letter which he received, typed, from Miss McGoun -that afternoon: - - BABBITT-THOMPSON REALTY CO. - Homes for Folks - Reeves Bldg., Oberlin Avenue & 3d St., N.E - Zenith - -Omar Gribble, Esq., -376 North American Building, -Zenith. - -Dear Mr. Gribble: - -Your letter of the twentieth to hand. I must say I'm awfully afraid that if -we go on shilly-shallying like this we'll just naturally lose the Allen sale. -I had Allen up on the carpet day before yesterday, and got right down to -cases. All my experience indicates that he means to do business. I have also -looked into his financial record, which is fine. - -He is perfectly willing to pro rate the special assessment and there will be -no difficulty in getting him to pay for title insurance. - -SO LET'S GO! - Yours sincerely, - -As he read and signed it, in his correct flowing business-college hand, -Babbitt reflected, "Now that's a good, strong letter, and clear's a bell. Now -what the--I never told McGoun to make a third paragraph there! Wish she'd -quit trying to improve on my dictation! But what I can't understand is: why -can't Stan Graff or Chet Laylock write a letter like that? With punch! With a -kick!" - -The most important thing he dictated that morning was the fortnightly -form-letter, to be mimeographed and sent out to a thousand "prospects." It was -diligently imitative of the best literary models of the day; of -heart-to-heart-talk advertisements, "sales-pulling" letters, discourses on the -"development of Will-power," and hand-shaking house-organs, as richly poured -forth by the new school of Poets of Business. He had painfully written out a -first draft, and he intoned it now like a poet delicate and distrait: - -SAY, OLD MAN! I just want to know can I do you a whaleuva favor? Honest! No -kidding! I know you're interested in getting a house, not merely a place -where you hang up the old bonnet but a love-nest for the wife and kiddies--and -maybe for the flivver out beyant (be sure and spell that b-e-y-a-n-t, Miss -McGoun) the spud garden. Say, did you ever stop to think that we're here to -save you trouble? That's how we make a living--folks don't pay us for our -lovely beauty! Now take a look: - -Sit right down at the handsome carved mahogany escritoire and shoot us in a -line telling us just what you want, and if we can find it we'll come hopping -down your lane with the good tidings, and if we can't, we won't bother you. To -save your time, just fill out the blank enclosed. On request will also send -blank regarding store properties in Floral Heights, Silver Grove, Linton, -Bellevue, and all East Side residential districts. - Yours for service, - -P.S.--Just a hint of some plums we can pick for you--some genuine bargains -that came in to-day: - -SILVER GROVE.--Cute four-room California bungalow, a.m.i., garage, dandy shade -tree, swell neighborhood, handy car line. $3700, $780 down and balance -liberal, Babbitt-Thompson terms, cheaper than rent. - -DORCHESTER.--A corker! Artistic two-family house, all oak trim, parquet -floors, lovely gas log, big porches, colonial, HEATED ALL-WEATHER GARAGE, a -bargain at $11,250. - - -Dictation over, with its need of sitting and thinking instead of bustling -around and making a noise and really doing something, Babbitt sat creakily -back in his revolving desk-chair and beamed on Miss McGoun. He was conscious -of her as a girl, of black bobbed hair against demure cheeks. A longing which -was indistinguishable from loneliness enfeebled him. While she waited, tapping -a long, precise pencil-point on the desk-tablet, he half identified her with -the fairy girl of his dreams. He imagined their eyes meeting with terrifying -recognition; imagined touching her lips with frightened reverence and--She was -chirping, "Any more, Mist' Babbitt?" He grunted, "That winds it up, I guess," -and turned heavily away. - -For all his wandering thoughts, they had never been more intimate than this. -He often reflected, "Nev' forget how old Jake Offutt said a wise bird never -goes love-making in his own office or his own home. Start trouble. Sure. -But--" - -In twenty-three years of married life he had peered uneasily at every graceful -ankle, every soft shoulder; in thought he had treasured them; but not once had -he hazarded respectability by adventuring. Now, as he calculated the cost of -repapering the Styles house, he was restless again, discontented about nothing -and everything, ashamed of his discontentment, and lonely for the fairy girl. - - - -CHAPTER IV - -IT was a morning of artistic creation. Fifteen minutes after the purple prose -of Babbitt's form-letter, Chester Kirby Laylock, the resident salesman at Glen -Oriole, came in to report a sale and submit an advertisement. Babbitt -disapproved of Laylock, who sang in choirs and was merry at home over games of -Hearts and Old Maid. He had a tenor voice, wavy chestnut hair, and a mustache -like a camel's-hair brush. Babbitt considered it excusable in a family-man to -growl, "Seen this new picture of the kid--husky little devil, eh?" but -Laylock's domestic confidences were as bubbling as a girl's. - -"Say, I think I got a peach of an ad for the Glen, Mr. Babbitt. Why don't we -try something in poetry? Honest, it'd have wonderful pulling-power. Listen: - - 'Mid pleasures and palaces, - Wherever you may roam, - You just provide the little bride - And we'll provide the home. - - -Do you get it? See--like 'Home Sweet Home.' Don't you--" - -"Yes, yes, yes, hell yes, of course I get it. But--Oh, I think we'd better -use something more dignified and forceful, like 'We lead, others follow,' or -'Eventually, why not now?' Course I believe in using poetry and humor and all -that junk when it turns the trick, but with a high-class restricted -development like the Glen we better stick to the more dignified approach, see -how I mean? Well, I guess that's all, this morning, Chet." - - -II - -By a tragedy familiar to the world of art, the April enthusiasm of Chet -Laylock served only to stimulate the talent of the older craftsman, George F. -Babbitt. He grumbled to Stanley Graff, "That tan-colored voice of Chet's gets -on my nerves," yet he was aroused and in one swoop he wrote: - - DO YOU RESPECT YOUR LOVED ONES? - -When the last sad rites of bereavement are over, do you know for certain that -you have done your best for the Departed? You haven't unless they lie in the -Cemetery Beautiful - LINDEN LANE -the only strictly up-to-date burial place in or near Zenith, where exquisitely -gardened plots look from daisy-dotted hill-slopes across the smiling fields of -Dorchester. - - Sole agents - BABBITT-THOMPSON REALTY COMPANY - Reeves Building - - -He rejoiced, "I guess that'll show Chan Mott and his weedy old Wildwood -Cemetery something about modern merchandizing!" - - -III - -He sent Mat Penniman to the recorder's office to dig out the names of the -owners of houses which were displaying For Rent signs of other brokers; he -talked to a man who desired to lease a store-building for a pool-room; he ran -over the list of home-leases which were about to expire; he sent Thomas -Bywaters, a street-car conductor who played at real estate in spare time, to -call on side-street "prospects" who were unworthy the strategies of Stanley -Graff. But he had spent his credulous excitement of creation, and these -routine details annoyed him. One moment of heroism he had, in discovering a -new way of stopping smoking. - -He stopped smoking at least once a month. He went through with it like the -solid citizen he was: admitted the evils of tobacco, courageously made -resolves, laid out plans to check the vice, tapered off his allowance of -cigars, and expounded the pleasures of virtuousness to every one he met. He -did everything, in fact, except stop smoking. - -Two months before, by ruling out a schedule, noting down the hour and minute -of each smoke, and ecstatically increasing the intervals between smokes, he -had brought himself down to three cigars a day. Then he had lost the schedule. - -A week ago he had invented a system of leaving his cigar-case and -cigarette-box in an unused drawer at the bottom of the correspondence-file, in -the outer office. "I'll just naturally be ashamed to go poking in there all -day long, making a fool of myself before my own employees!" he reasoned. By -the end of three days he was trained to leave his desk, walk to the file, take -out and light a cigar, without knowing that he was doing it. - -This morning it was revealed to him that it had been too easy to open the -file. Lock it, that was the thing! Inspired, he rushed out and locked up his -cigars, his cigarettes, and even his box of safety matches; and the key to the -file drawer he hid in his desk. But the crusading passion of it made him so -tobacco-hungry that he immediately recovered the key, walked with forbidding -dignity to the file, took out a cigar and a match--"but only one match; if ole -cigar goes out, it'll by golly have to stay out!" Later, when the cigar did go -out, he took one more match from the file, and when a buyer and a seller came -in for a conference at eleven-thirty, naturally he had to offer them cigars. -His conscience protested, "Why, you're smoking with them!" but he bullied it, -"Oh, shut up! I'm busy now. Of course by-and-by--" There was no by-and-by, -yet his belief that he had crushed the unclean habit made him feel noble and -very happy. When he called up Paul Riesling he was, in his moral splendor, -unusually eager. - -He was fonder of Paul Riesling than of any one on earth except himself and his -daughter Tinka. They had been classmates, roommates, in the State University, -but always he thought of Paul Riesling, with his dark slimness, his precisely -parted hair, his nose-glasses, his hesitant speech, his moodiness, his love of -music, as a younger brother, to be petted and protected. Paul had gone into -his father's business, after graduation; he was now a wholesaler and small -manufacturer of prepared-paper roofing. But Babbitt strenuously believed and -lengthily announced to the world of Good Fellows that Paul could have been a -great violinist or painter or writer. "Why say, the letters that boy sent me -on his trip to the Canadian Rockies, they just absolutely make you see the -place as if you were standing there. Believe me, he could have given any of -these bloomin' authors a whale of a run for their money!" - -Yet on the telephone they said only: - -"South 343. No, no, no! I said SOUTH--South 343. Say, operator, what the -dickens is the trouble? Can't you get me South 343? Why certainly they'll -answer. Oh, Hello, 343? Wanta speak Mist' Riesling, Mist' Babbitt talking. . -. 'Lo, Paul?" - -"Yuh." - -"'S George speaking." - -"Yuh." - -"How's old socks?" - -"Fair to middlin'. How 're you?" - -"Fine, Paulibus. Well, what do you know?" - -"Oh, nothing much." - -"Where you been keepin' yourself?" - -"Oh, just stickin' round. What's up, Georgie?" - -"How 'bout lil lunch 's noon?" - -"Be all right with me, I guess. Club?' - -"Yuh. Meet you there twelve-thirty." - -"A' right. Twelve-thirty. S' long, Georgie." - - -IV - -His morning was not sharply marked into divisions. Interwoven with -correspondence and advertisement-writing were a thousand nervous details: -calls from clerks who were incessantly and hopefully seeking five furnished -rooms and bath at sixty dollars a month; advice to Mat Penniman on getting -money out of tenants who had no money. - -Babbitt's virtues as a real-estate broker--as the servant of society in the -department of finding homes for families and shops for distributors of -food--were steadiness and diligence. He was conventionally honest, he kept his -records of buyers and sellers complete, he had experience with leases and -titles and an excellent memory for prices. His shoulders were broad enough, -his voice deep enough, his relish of hearty humor strong enough, to establish -him as one of the ruling caste of Good Fellows. Yet his eventual importance -to mankind was perhaps lessened by his large and complacent ignorance of all -architecture save the types of houses turned out by speculative builders; all -landscape gardening save the use of curving roads, grass, and six ordinary -shrubs; and all the commonest axioms of economics. He serenely believed that -the one purpose of the real-estate business was to make money for George F. -Babbitt. True, it was a good advertisement at Boosters' Club lunches, and all -the varieties of Annual Banquets to which Good Fellows were invited, to speak -sonorously of Unselfish Public Service, the Broker's Obligation to Keep -Inviolate the Trust of His Clients, and a thing called Ethics, whose nature -was confusing but if you had it you were a High-class Realtor and if you -hadn't you were a shyster, a piker, and a fly-by-night. These virtues awakened -Confidence, and enabled you to handle Bigger Propositions. But they didn't -imply that you were to be impractical and refuse to take twice the value of a -house if a buyer was such an idiot that he didn't jew you down on the -asking-price. - -Babbitt spoke well--and often--at these orgies of commercial righteousness -about the "realtor's function as a seer of the future development of the -community, and as a prophetic engineer clearing the pathway for inevitable -changes"--which meant that a real-estate broker could make money by guessing -which way the town would grow. This guessing he called Vision - -In an address at the Boosters' Club he had admitted, "It is at once the duty -and the privilege of the realtor to know everything about his own city and its -environs. Where a surgeon is a specialist on every vein and mysterious cell of -the human body, and the engineer upon electricity in all its phases, or every -bolt of some great bridge majestically arching o'er a mighty flood, the -realtor must know his city, inch by inch, and all its faults and virtues." - -Though he did know the market-price, inch by inch, of certain districts of -Zenith, he did not know whether the police force was too large or too small, -or whether it was in alliance with gambling and prostitution. He knew the -means of fire-proofing buildings and the relation of insurance-rates to -fire-proofing, but he did not know how many firemen there were in the city, -how they were trained and paid, or how complete their apparatus. He sang -eloquently the advantages of proximity of school-buildings to rentable homes, -but he did not know--he did not know that it was worth while to know--whether -the city schoolrooms were properly heated, lighted, ventilated, furnished; he -did not know how the teachers were chosen; and though he chanted "One of the -boasts of Zenith is that we pay our teachers adequately," that was because he -had read the statement in the Advocate-Times. Himself, he could not have given -the average salary of teachers in Zenith or anywhere else. - -He had heard it said that "conditions" in the County Jail and the Zenith City -Prison were not very "scientific;" he had, with indignation at the criticism -of Zenith, skimmed through a report in which the notorious pessimist Seneca -Doane, the radical lawyer, asserted that to throw boys and young girls into a -bull-pen crammed with men suffering from syphilis, delirium tremens, and -insanity was not the perfect way of educating them. He had controverted the -report by growling, "Folks that think a jail ought to be a bloomin' Hotel -Thornleigh make me sick. If people don't like a jail, let 'em behave 'emselves -and keep out of it. Besides, these reform cranks always exaggerate." That was -the beginning and quite completely the end of his investigations into Zenith's -charities and corrections; and as to the "vice districts" he brightly -expressed it, "Those are things that no decent man monkeys with. Besides, -smatter fact, I'll tell you confidentially: it's a protection to our daughters -and to decent women to have a district where tough nuts can raise cain. Keeps -'em away from our own homes." - -As to industrial conditions, however, Babbitt had thought a great deal, and -his opinions may be coordinated as follows: - -"A good labor union is of value because it keeps out radical unions, which -would destroy property. No one ought to be forced to belong to a union, -however. All labor agitators who try to force men to join a union should be -hanged. In fact, just between ourselves, there oughtn't to be any unions -allowed at all; and as it's the best way of fighting the unions, every -business man ought to belong to an employers'-association and to the Chamber -of Commerce. In union there is strength. So any selfish hog who doesn't join -the Chamber of Commerce ought to be forced to." - -In nothing--as the expert on whose advice families moved to new neighborhoods -to live there for a generation--was Babbitt more splendidly innocent than in -the science of sanitation. He did not know a malaria-bearing mosquito from a -bat; he knew nothing about tests of drinking water; and in the matters of -plumbing and sewage he was as unlearned as he was voluble. He often referred -to the excellence of the bathrooms in the houses he sold. He was fond of -explaining why it was that no European ever bathed. Some one had told him, -when he was twenty-two, that all cesspools were unhealthy, and he still -denounced them. If a client impertinently wanted him to sell a house which had -a cesspool, Babbitt always spoke about it--before accepting the house and -selling it. - -When he laid out the Glen Oriole acreage development, when he ironed woodland -and dipping meadow into a glenless, orioleless, sunburnt flat prickly with -small boards displaying the names of imaginary streets, he righteously put in -a complete sewage-system. It made him feel superior; it enabled him to sneer -privily at the Martin Lumsen development, Avonlea, which had a cesspool; and -it provided a chorus for the full-page advertisements in which he announced -the beauty, convenience, cheapness, and supererogatory healthfulness of Glen -Oriole. The only flaw was that the Glen Oriole sewers had insufficient -outlet, so that waste remained in them, not very agreeably, while the Avonlea -cesspool was a Waring septic tank. - -The whole of the Glen Oriole project was a suggestion that Babbitt, though he -really did hate men recognized as swindlers, was not too unreasonably honest. -Operators and buyers prefer that brokers should not be in competition with -them as operators and buyers themselves, but attend to their clients' -interests only. It was supposed that the Babbitt-Thompson Company were merely -agents for Glen Oriole, serving the real owner, Jake Offutt, but the fact was -that Babbitt and Thompson owned sixty-two per cent. of the Glen, the -president and purchasing agent of the Zenith Street Traction Company owned -twenty-eight per cent., and Jake Offutt (a gang-politician, a small -manufacturer, a tobacco-chewing old farceur who enjoyed dirty politics, -business diplomacy, and cheating at poker) had only ten per cent., which -Babbitt and the Traction officials had given to him for "fixing" health -inspectors and fire inspectors and a member of the State Transportation -Commission. - -But Babbitt was virtuous. He advocated, though he did not practise, the -prohibition of alcohol; he praised, though he did not obey, the laws against -motor-speeding; he paid his debts; he contributed to the church, the Red -Cross, and the Y. M. C. A.; he followed the custom of his clan and cheated -only as it was sanctified by precedent; and he never descended to -trickery--though, as he explained to Paul Riesling: - -"Course I don't mean to say that every ad I write is literally true or that I -always believe everything I say when I give some buyer a good strong -selling-spiel. You see--you see it's like this: In the first place, maybe the -owner of the property exaggerated when he put it into my hands, and it -certainly isn't my place to go proving my principal a liar! And then most -folks are so darn crooked themselves that they expect a fellow to do a little -lying, so if I was fool enough to never whoop the ante I'd get the credit for -lying anyway! In self-defense I got to toot my own horn, like a lawyer -defending a client--his bounden duty, ain't it, to bring out the poor dub's -good points? Why, the Judge himself would bawl out a lawyer that didn't, even -if they both knew the guy was guilty! But even so, I don't pad out the truth -like Cecil Rountree or Thayer or the rest of these realtors. Fact, I think a -fellow that's willing to deliberately up and profit by lying ought to be -shot!" - -Babbitt's value to his clients was rarely better shown than this morning, in -the conference at eleven-thirty between himself, Conrad Lyte, and Archibald -Purdy. - - -V - -Conrad Lyte was a real-estate speculator. He was a nervous speculator. Before -he gambled he consulted bankers, lawyers, architects, contracting builders, -and all of their clerks and stenographers who were willing to be cornered and -give him advice. He was a bold entrepreneur, and he desired nothing more than -complete safety in his investments, freedom from attention to details, and the -thirty or forty per cent. profit which, according to all authorities, a -pioneer deserves for his risks and foresight. He was a stubby man with a -cap-like mass of short gray curls and clothes which, no matter how well cut, -seemed shaggy. Below his eyes were semicircular hollows, as though silver -dollars had been pressed against them and had left an imprint. - -Particularly and always Lyte consulted Babbitt, and trusted in his slow -cautiousness. - -Six months ago Babbitt had learned that one Archibald Purdy, a grocer in the -indecisive residential district known as Linton, was talking of opening a -butcher shop beside his grocery. Looking up the ownership of adjoining parcels -of land, Babbitt found that Purdy owned his present shop but did not own the -one available lot adjoining. He advised Conrad Lyte to purchase this lot, for -eleven thousand dollars, though an appraisal on a basis of rents did not -indicate its value as above nine thousand. The rents, declared Babbitt, were -too low; and by waiting they could make Purdy come to their price. (This was -Vision.) He had to bully Lyte into buying. His first act as agent for Lyte was -to increase the rent of the battered store-building on the lot. The tenant -said a number of rude things, but he paid. - -Now, Purdy seemed ready to buy, and his delay was going to cost him ten -thousand extra dollars--the reward paid by the community to Mr. Conrad Lyte -for the virtue of employing a broker who had Vision and who understood Talking -Points, Strategic Values, Key Situations, Underappraisals, and the Psychology -of Salesmanship. - -Lyte came to the conference exultantly. He was fond of Babbitt, this morning, -and called him "old hoss." Purdy, the grocer. a long-nosed man and solemn, -seemed to care less for Babbitt and for Vision, but Babbitt met him at the -street door of the office and guided him toward the private room with -affectionate little cries of "This way, Brother Purdy!" He took from the -correspondence-file the entire box of cigars and forced them on his guests. -He pushed their chairs two inches forward and three inches back, which gave an -hospitable note, then leaned back in his desk-chair and looked plump and -jolly. But he spoke to the weakling grocer with firmness. - -"Well, Brother Purdy, we been having some pretty tempting offers from butchers -and a slew of other folks for that lot next to your store, but I persuaded -Brother Lyte that we ought to give you a shot at the property first. I said -to Lyte, 'It'd be a rotten shame,' I said, 'if somebody went and opened a -combination grocery and meat market right next door and ruined Purdy's nice -little business.' Especially--" Babbitt leaned forward, and his voice was -harsh, "--it would be hard luck if one of these cash-and-carry chain-stores -got in there and started cutting prices below cost till they got rid of -competition and forced you to the wall!" - -Purdy snatched his thin hands from his pockets, pulled up his trousers, thrust -his hands back into his pockets, tilted in the heavy oak chair, and tried to -look amused, as he struggled: - -"Yes, they're bad competition. But I guess you don't realize the Pulling -Power that Personality has in a neighborhood business." - -The great Babbitt smiled. "That's so. Just as you feel, old man. We thought -we'd give you first chance. All right then--" - -"Now look here!" Purdy wailed. "I know f'r a fact that a piece of property -'bout same size, right near, sold for less 'n eighty-five hundred, 'twa'n't -two years ago, and here you fellows are asking me twenty-four thousand -dollars! Why, I'd have to mortgage--I wouldn't mind so much paying twelve -thousand but--Why good God, Mr. Babbitt, you're asking more 'n twice its -value! And threatening to ruin me if I don't take it!" - -"Purdy, I don't like your way of talking! I don't like it one little bit! -Supposing Lyte and I were stinking enough to want to ruin any fellow human, -don't you suppose we know it's to our own selfish interest to have everybody -in Zenith prosperous? But all this is beside the point. Tell you what we'll -do: We'll come down to twenty-three thousand-five thousand down and the rest -on mortgage--and if you want to wreck the old shack and rebuild, I guess I can -get Lyte here to loosen up for a building-mortgage on good liberal terms. -Heavens, man, we'd be glad to oblige you! We don't like these foreign grocery -trusts any better 'n you do! But it isn't reasonable to expect us to sacrifice -eleven thousand or more just for neighborliness, IS it! How about it, Lyte? -You willing to come down?" - -By warmly taking Purdy's part, Babbitt persuaded the benevolent Mr. Lyte to -reduce his price to twenty-one thousand dollars. At the right moment Babbitt -snatched from a drawer the agreement he had had Miss McGoun type out a week -ago and thrust it into Purdy's hands. He genially shook his fountain pen to -make certain that it was flowing, handed it to Purdy, and approvingly watched -him sign. - -The work of the world was being done. Lyte had made something over nine -thousand dollars, Babbitt had made a four-hundred-and-fifty dollar commission, -Purdy had, by the sensitive mechanism of modern finance, been provided with a -business-building, and soon the happy inhabitants of Linton would have meat -lavished upon them at prices only a little higher than those down-town. - -It had been a manly battle, but after it Babbitt drooped. This was the only -really amusing contest he had been planning. There was nothing ahead save -details of leases, appraisals, mortgages. - -He muttered, "Makes me sick to think of Lyte carrying off most of the profit -when I did all the work, the old skinflint! And--What else have I got to do -to-day? . . Like to take a good long vacation. Motor trip. Something." He -sprang up, rekindled by the thought of lunching with Paul Riesling - - - -CHAPTER V - -BABBITT'S preparations for leaving the office to its feeble self during the -hour and a half of his lunch-period were somewhat less elaborate than the -plans for a general European war. - -He fretted to Miss McGoun, "What time you going to lunch? Well, make sure -Miss Bannigan is in then. Explain to her that if Wiedenfeldt calls up, she's -to tell him I'm already having the title traced. And oh, b' the way, remind me -to-morrow to have Penniman trace it. Now if anybody comes in looking for a -cheap house, remember we got to shove that Bangor Road place off onto -somebody. If you need me, I'll be at the Athletic Club. -And--uh--And--uh--I'll be back by two." - -He dusted the cigar-ashes off his vest. He placed a difficult unanswered -letter on the pile of unfinished work, that he might not fail to attend to it -that afternoon. (For three noons, now, he had placed the same letter on the -unfinished pile.) He scrawled on a sheet of yellow backing-paper the -memorandum: "See abt apt h drs," which gave him an agreeable feeling of having -already seen about the apartment-house doors. - -He discovered that he was smoking another cigar. He threw it away, protesting, -"Darn it, I thought you'd quit this darn smoking!" He courageously returned -the cigar-box to the correspondence-file, locked it up, hid the key in a more -difficult place, and raged, "Ought to take care of myself. And need more -exercise--walk to the club, every single noon--just what I'll do--every -noon-cut out this motoring all the time." - -The resolution made him feel exemplary. Immediately after it he decided that -this noon it was too late to walk. - -It took but little more time to start his car and edge it into the traffic -than it would have taken to walk the three and a half blocks to the club. - - -II - -As he drove he glanced with the fondness of familiarity at the buildings. - -A stranger suddenly dropped into the business-center of Zenith could not have -told whether he was in a city of Oregon or Georgia, Ohio or Maine, Oklahoma or -Manitoba. But to Babbitt every inch was individual and stirring. As always he -noted that the California Building across the way was three stories lower, -therefore three stories less beautiful, than his own Reeves Building. As -always when he passed the Parthenon Shoe Shine Parlor, a one-story hut which -beside the granite and red-brick ponderousness of the old California Building -resembled a bath-house under a cliff, he commented, "Gosh, ought to get my -shoes shined this afternoon. Keep forgetting it." At the Simplex Office -Furniture Shop, the National Cash Register Agency, he yearned for a -dictaphone, for a typewriter which would add and multiply, as a poet yearns -for quartos or a physician for radium. - -At the Nobby Men's Wear Shop he took his left hand off the steering-wheel to -touch his scarf, and thought well of himself as one who bought expensive ties -"and could pay cash for 'em, too, by golly;" and at the United Cigar Store, -with its crimson and gold alertness, he reflected, "Wonder if I need some -cigars--idiot--plumb forgot--going t' cut down my fool smoking." He looked at -his bank, the Miners' and Drovers' National, and considered how clever and -solid he was to bank with so marbled an establishment. His high moment came in -the clash of traffic when he was halted at the corner beneath the lofty Second -National Tower. His car was banked with four others in a line of steel -restless as cavalry, while the cross town traffic, limousines and enormous -moving-vans and insistent motor-cycles, poured by; on the farther corner, -pneumatic riveters rang on the sun-plated skeleton of a new building; and out -of this tornado flashed the inspiration of a familiar face, and a fellow -Booster shouted, "H' are you, George!" Babbitt waved in neighborly affection, -and slid on with the traffic as the policeman lifted his hand. He noted how -quickly his car picked up. He felt superior and powerful, like a shuttle of -polished steel darting in a vast machine. - -As always he ignored the next two blocks, decayed blocks not yet reclaimed -from the grime and shabbiness of the Zenith of 1885. While he was passing the -five-and-ten-cent store, the Dakota Lodging House, Concordia Hall with its -lodge-rooms and the offices of fortune-tellers and chiropractors, he thought -of how much money he made, and he boasted a little and worried a little and -did old familiar sums: - -"Four hundred fifty plunks this morning from the Lyte deal. But taxes due. -Let's see: I ought to pull out eight thousand net this year, and save fifteen -hundred of that--no, not if I put up garage and--Let's see: six hundred and -forty clear last month, and twelve times six-forty makes--makes--let see: six -times twelve is seventy-two hundred and--Oh rats, anyway, I'll make eight -thousand--gee now, that's not so bad; mighty few fellows pulling down eight -thousand dollars a year--eight thousand good hard iron dollars--bet there -isn't more than five per cent. of the people in the whole United States that -make more than Uncle George does, by golly! Right up at the top of the heap! -But--Way expenses are--Family wasting gasoline, and always dressed like -millionaires, and sending that eighty a month to Mother--And all these -stenographers and salesmen gouging me for every cent they can get--" - -The effect of his scientific budget-planning was that he felt at once -triumphantly wealthy and perilously poor, and in the midst of these -dissertations he stopped his car, rushed into a small news-and-miscellany -shop, and bought the electric cigar-lighter which he had coveted for a week. -He dodged his conscience by being jerky and noisy, and by shouting at the -clerk, "Guess this will prett' near pay for itself in matches, eh?" - -It was a pretty thing, a nickeled cylinder with an almost silvery socket, to -be attached to the dashboard of his car. It was not only, as the placard on -the counter observed, "a dandy little refinement, lending the last touch of -class to a gentleman's auto," but a priceless time-saver. By freeing him from -halting the car to light a match, it would in a month or two easily save ten -minutes. - -As he drove on he glanced at it. "Pretty nice. Always wanted one," he said -wistfully. "The one thing a smoker needs, too." - -Then he remembered that he had given up smoking. - -"Darn it!" he mourned. "Oh well, I suppose I'll hit a cigar once in a while. -And--Be a great convenience for other folks. Might make just the difference in -getting chummy with some fellow that would put over a sale. And--Certainly -looks nice there. Certainly is a mighty clever little jigger. Gives the last -touch of refinement and class. I--By golly, I guess I can afford it if I want -to! Not going to be the only member of this family that never has a single -doggone luxury!" - -Thus, laden with treasure, after three and a half blocks of romantic -adventure, he drove up to the club. - - -III - -The Zenith Athletic Club is not athletic and it isn't exactly a club, but it -is Zenith in perfection. It has an active and smoke-misted billiard room, it -is represented by baseball and football teams, and in the pool and the -gymnasium a tenth of the members sporadically try to reduce. But most of its -three thousand members use it as a cafe in which to lunch, play cards, tell -stories, meet customers, and entertain out-of town uncles at dinner. It is -the largest club in the city, and its chief hatred is the conservative Union -Club, which all sound members of the Athletic call "a rotten, snobbish, dull, -expensive old hole--not one Good Mixer in the place--you couldn't hire me to -join." Statistics show that no member of the Athletic has ever refused -election to the Union, and of those who are elected, sixty-seven per cent. -resign from the Athletic and are thereafter heard to say, in the drowsy -sanctity of the Union lounge, "The Athletic would be a pretty good hotel, if -it were more exclusive." - -The Athletic Club building is nine stories high, yellow brick with glassy -roof-garden above and portico of huge limestone columns below. The lobby, with -its thick pillars of porous Caen stone, its pointed vaulting, and a brown -glazed-tile floor like well-baked bread-crust, is a combination of -cathedral-crypt and rathskellar. The members rush into the lobby as though -they were shopping and hadn't much time for it. Thus did Babbitt enter, and -to the group standing by the cigar-counter he whooped, "How's the boys? How's -the boys? Well, well, fine day!" - -Jovially they whooped back--Vergil Gunch, the coal-dealer, Sidney Finkelstein, -the ladies'-ready-to-wear buyer for Parcher & Stein's department-store, and -Professor Joseph K. Pumphrey, owner of the Riteway Business College and -instructor in Public Speaking, Business English, Scenario Writing, and -Commercial Law. Though Babbitt admired this savant, and appreciated Sidney -Finkelstein as "a mighty smart buyer and a good liberal spender," it was to -Vergil Gunch that he turned with enthusiasm. Mr. Gunch was president of the -Boosters' Club, a weekly lunch-club, local chapter of a national organization -which promoted sound business and friendliness among Regular Fellows. He was -also no less an official than Esteemed Leading Knight in the Benevolent and -Protective Order of Elks, and it was rumored that at the next election he -would be a candidate for Exalted Ruler. He was a jolly man, given to oratory -and to chumminess with the arts. He called on the famous actors and -vaudeville artists when they came to town, gave them cigars, addressed them by -their first names, and--sometimes--succeeded in bringing them to the Boosters' -lunches to give The Boys a Free Entertainment. He was a large man with hair -en brosse, and he knew the latest jokes, but he played poker close to the -chest. It was at his party that Babbitt had sucked in the virus of to-day's -restlessness. - -Gunch shouted, "How's the old Bolsheviki? How do you feel, the morning after -the night before?" - -"Oh, boy! Some head! That was a regular party you threw, Verg! Hope you -haven't forgotten I took that last cute little jack-pot!" Babbitt bellowed. -(He was three feet from Gunch.) - -"That's all right now! What I'll hand you next time, Georgie! Say, juh -notice in the paper the way the New York Assembly stood up to the Reds?" - -"You bet I did. That was fine, eh? Nice day to-day." - -"Yes, it's one mighty fine spring day, but nights still cold." - -"Yeh, you're right they are! Had to have coupla blankets last night, out on -the sleeping-porch. Say, Sid," Babbitt turned to Finkelstein, the buyer, "got -something wanta ask you about. I went out and bought me an electric -cigar-lighter for the car, this noon, and--" - -"Good hunch!" said Finkelstein, while even the learned Professor Pumphrey, a -bulbous man with a pepper-and-salt cutaway and a pipe-organ voice, commented, -"That makes a dandy accessory. Cigar-lighter gives tone to the dashboard." - -"Yep, finally decided I'd buy me one. Got the best on the market, the clerk -said it was. Paid five bucks for it. Just wondering if I got stuck. What do -they charge for 'em at the store, Sid?" - -Finkelstein asserted that five dollars was not too great a sum, not for a -really high-class lighter which was suitably nickeled and provided with -connections of the very best quality. "I always say--and believe me, I base it -on a pretty fairly extensive mercantile experience--the best is the cheapest -in the long run. Of course if a fellow wants to be a Jew about it, he can get -cheap junk, but in the long RUN, the cheapest thing is--the best you can get! -Now you take here just th' other day: I got a new top for my old boat and some -upholstery, and I paid out a hundred and twenty-six fifty, and of course a lot -of fellows would say that was too much--Lord, if the Old Folks--they live in -one of these hick towns up-state and they simply can't get onto the way a city -fellow's mind works, and then, of course, they're Jews, and they'd lie right -down and die if they knew Sid had anted up a hundred and twenty-six bones. But -I don't figure I was stuck, George, not a bit. Machine looks brand new -now--not that it's so darned old, of course; had it less 'n three years, but I -give it hard service; never drive less 'n a hundred miles on Sunday and, -uh--Oh, I don't really think you got stuck, George. In the LONG run, the best -is, you might say, it's unquestionably the cheapest." - -"That's right," said Vergil Gunch. "That's the way I look at it. If a fellow -is keyed up to what you might call intensive living, the way you get it here -in Zenith--all the hustle and mental activity that's going on with a bunch of -live-wires like the Boosters and here in the Z.A.C., why, he's got to save his -nerves by having the best." - -Babbitt nodded his head at every fifth word in the roaring rhythm; and by the -conclusion, in Gunch's renowned humorous vein, he was enchanted: - -"Still, at that, George, don't know's you can afford it. I've heard your -business has been kind of under the eye of the gov'ment since you stole the -tail of Eathorne Park and sold it!" - -"Oh, you're a great little josher, Verg. But when it comes to kidding, how -about this report that you stole the black marble steps off the post-office -and sold 'em for high-grade coal!" In delight Babbitt patted Gunch's back, -stroked his arm. - -"That's all right, but what I want to know is: who's the real-estate shark -that bought that coal for his apartment-houses?" - - -"I guess that'll hold you for a while, George!" said Finkelstein. "I'll tell -you, though, boys, what I did hear: George's missus went into the gents' wear -department at Parcher's to buy him some collars, and before she could give his -neck-size the clerk slips her some thirteens. 'How juh know the size?' says -Mrs. Babbitt, and the clerk says, 'Men that let their wives buy collars for -'em always wear thirteen, madam.' How's that! That's pretty good, eh? How's -that, eh? I guess that'll about fix you, George!" - -"I--I--" Babbitt sought for amiable insults in answer. He stopped, stared at -the door. Paul Riesling was coming in. Babbitt cried, "See you later, boys," -and hastened across the lobby. He was, just then, neither the sulky child of -the sleeping-porch, the domestic tyrant of the breakfast table, the crafty -money-changer of the Lyte-Purdy conference, nor the blaring Good Fellow, the -Josher and Regular Guy, of the Athletic Club. He was an older brother to Paul -Riesling, swift to defend him, admiring him with a proud and credulous love -passing the love of women. Paul and he shook hands solemnly; they smiled as -shyly as though they had been parted three years, not three days--and they -said: - -"How's the old horse-thief?" - -"All right, I guess. How're you, you poor shrimp?" - -"I'm first-rate, you second-hand hunk o' cheese." - -Reassured thus of their high fondness, Babbitt grunted, "You're a fine guy, -you are! Ten minutes late!" Riesling snapped, "Well, you're lucky to have a -chance to lunch with a gentleman!" They grinned and went into the Neronian -washroom, where a line of men bent over the bowls inset along a prodigious -slab of marble as in religious prostration before their own images in the -massy mirror. Voices thick, satisfied, authoritative, hurtled along the marble -walls, bounded from the ceiling of lavender-bordered milky tiles, while the -lords of the city, the barons of insurance and law and fertilizers and motor -tires, laid down the law for Zenith; announced that the day was warm-indeed, -indisputably of spring; that wages were too high and the interest on mortgages -too low; that Babe Ruth, the eminent player of baseball, was a noble man; and -that "those two nuts at the Climax Vaudeville Theater this week certainly are -a slick pair of actors." Babbitt, though ordinarily his voice was the surest -and most episcopal of all, was silent. In the presence of the slight dark -reticence of Paul Riesling, he was awkward, he desired to be quiet and firm -and deft. - -The entrance lobby of the Athletic Club was Gothic, the washroom Roman -Imperial, the lounge Spanish Mission, and the reading-room in Chinese -Chippendale, but the gem of the club was the dining-room, the masterpiece of -Ferdinand Reitman, Zenith's busiest architect. It was lofty and half-timbered, -with Tudor leaded casements, an oriel, a somewhat musicianless -musicians'-gallery, and tapestries believed to illustrate the granting of -Magna Charta. The open beams had been hand-adzed at Jake Offutt's car-body -works, the hinge; were of hand-wrought iron, the wainscot studded with -handmade wooden pegs, and at one end of the room was a heraldic and hooded -stone fireplace which the club's advertising-pamphlet asserted to be not only -larger than any of the fireplaces in European castles but of a draught -incomparably more scientific. It was also much cleaner, as no fire had ever -been built in it. - -Half of the tables were mammoth slabs which seated twenty or thirty men. -Babbitt usually sat at the one near the door, with a group including Gunch, -Finkelstein, Professor Pumphrey, Howard Littlefield, his neighbor, T. -Cholmondeley Frink, the poet and advertising-agent, and Orville Jones, whose -laundry was in many ways the best in Zenith. They composed a club within the -club, and merrily called themselves "The Roughnecks." To-day as he passed -their table the Roughnecks greeted him, "Come on, sit in! You 'n' Paul too -proud to feed with poor folks? Afraid somebody might stick you for a bottle -of Bevo, George? Strikes me you swells are getting awful darn exclusive!" - -He thundered, "You bet! We can't afford to have our reps ruined by being seen -with you tightwads!" and guided Paul to one of the small tables beneath the -musicians'-gallery. He felt guilty. At the Zenith Athletic Club, privacy was -very bad form. But he wanted Paul to himself. - -That morning he had advocated lighter lunches and now he ordered nothing but -English mutton chop, radishes, peas, deep-dish apple pie, a bit of cheese, and -a pot of coffee with cream, adding, as he did invariably, "And uh--Oh, and you -might give me an order of French fried potatoes." When the chop came he -vigorously peppered it and salted it. He always peppered and salted his meat, -and vigorously, before tasting it. - -Paul and he took up the spring-like quality of the spring, the virtues of the -electric cigar-lighter, and the action of the New York State Assembly. It was -not till Babbitt was thick and disconsolate with mutton grease that he flung -out: - -"I wound up a nice little deal with Conrad Lyte this morning that put five -hundred good round plunks in my pocket. Pretty nice--pretty nice! And yet--I -don't know what's the matter with me to-day. Maybe it's an attack of spring -fever, or staying up too late at Verg Gunch's, or maybe it's just the winter's -work piling up, but I've felt kind of down in the mouth all day long. Course -I wouldn't beef about it to the fellows at the Roughnecks' Table there, but -you--Ever feel that way, Paul? Kind of comes over me: here I've pretty much -done all the things I ought to; supported my family, and got a good house and -a six-cylinder car, and built up a nice little business, and I haven't any -vices 'specially, except smoking--and I'm practically cutting that out, by the -way. And I belong to the church, and play enough golf to keep in trim, and I -only associate with good decent fellows. And yet, even so, I don't know that -I'm entirely satisfied!" - -It was drawled out, broken by shouts from the neighboring tables, by -mechanical love-making to the waitress, by stertorous grunts as the coffee -filled him with dizziness and indigestion. He was apologetic and doubtful, and -it was Paul, with his thin voice, who pierced the fog: - -"Good Lord, George, you don't suppose it's any novelty to me to find that we -hustlers, that think we're so all-fired successful, aren't getting much out of -it? You look as if you expected me to report you as seditious! You know what -my own life's been." - -"I know, old man." - -"I ought to have been a fiddler, and I'm a pedler of tar-roofing! And -Zilla--Oh, I don't want to squeal, but you know as well as I do about how -inspiring a wife she is.... Typical instance last evening: We went to the -movies. There was a big crowd waiting in the lobby, us at the tail-end. She -began to push right through it with her 'Sir, how dare you?' manner--Honestly, -sometimes when I look at her and see how she's always so made up and stinking -of perfume and looking for trouble and kind of always yelping, 'I tell yuh I'm -a lady, damn yuh!'--why, I want to kill her! Well, she keeps elbowing through -the crowd, me after her, feeling good and ashamed, till she's almost up to the -velvet rope and ready to be the next let in. But there was a little squirt of -a man there--probably been waiting half an hour--I kind of admired the little -cuss--and he turns on Zilla and says, perfectly polite, 'Madam, why are you -trying to push past me?' And she simply--God, I was so ashamed!--she rips out -at him, 'You're no gentleman,' and she drags me into it and hollers, 'Paul, -this person insulted me!' and the poor skate he got ready to fight. - -"I made out I hadn't heard them--sure! same as you wouldn't hear a -boiler-factory!--and I tried to look away--I can tell you exactly how every -tile looks in the ceiling of that lobby; there's one with brown spots on it -like the face of the devil--and all the time the people there--they were -packed in like sardines--they kept making remarks about us, and Zilla went -right on talking about the little chap, and screeching that 'folks like him -oughtn't to be admitted in a place that's SUPPOSED to be for ladies and -gentlemen,' and 'Paul, will you kindly call the manager, so I can report this -dirty rat?' and--Oof! Maybe I wasn't glad when I could sneak inside and hide -in the dark! - -"After twenty-four years of that kind of thing, you don't expect me to fall -down and foam at the mouth when you hint that this sweet, clean, respectable, -moral life isn't all it's cracked up to be, do you? I can't even talk about -it, except to you, because anybody else would think I was yellow. Maybe I am. -Don't care any longer.... Gosh, you've had to stand a lot of whining from me, -first and last, Georgie!" - -"Rats, now, Paul, you've never really what you could call whined. -Sometimes--I'm always blowing to Myra and the kids about what a whale of a -realtor I am, and yet sometimes I get a sneaking idea I'm not such a Pierpont -Morgan as I let on to be. But if I ever do help by jollying you along, old -Paulski, I guess maybe Saint Pete may let me in after all!" - -"Yuh, you're an old blow-hard, Georgie, you cheerful cut-throat, but you've -certainly kept me going." - -"Why don't you divorce Zilla?" - -"Why don't I! If I only could! If she'd just give me the chance! You -couldn't hire her to divorce me, no, nor desert me. She's too fond of her -three squares and a few pounds of nut-center chocolates in between. If she'd -only be what they call unfaithful to me! George, I don't want to be too much -of a stinker; back in college I'd 've thought a man who could say that ought -to be shot at sunrise. But honestly, I'd be tickled to death if she'd really -go making love with somebody. Fat chance! Of course she'll flirt with -anything--you know how she holds hands and laughs--that laugh--that horrible -brassy laugh--the way she yaps, 'You naughty man, you better be careful or my -big husband will be after you!'--and the guy looking me over and thinking, -'Why, you cute little thing, you run away now or I'll spank you!' And she'll -let him go just far enough so she gets some excitement out of it and then -she'll begin to do the injured innocent and have a beautiful time wailing, 'I -didn't think you were that kind of a person.' They talk about these -demi-vierges in stories--" - -"These WHATS?" - -"--but the wise, hard, corseted, old married women like Zilla are worse than -any bobbed-haired girl that ever went boldly out into this-here storm of -life--and kept her umbrella slid up her sleeve! But rats, you know what Zilla -is. How she nags--nags--nags. How she wants everything I can buy her, and a -lot that I can't, and how absolutely unreasonable she is, and when I get sore -and try to have it out with her she plays the Perfect Lady so well that even I -get fooled and get all tangled up in a lot of 'Why did you say's' and 'I -didn't mean's.' I'll tell you, Georgie: You know my tastes are pretty fairly -simple--in the matter of food, at least. Course, as you're always complaining, -I do like decent cigars--not those Flor de Cabagos you're smoking--" - -"That's all right now! That's a good two-for. By the way, Paul, did I tell -you I decided to practically cut out smok--" - -"Yes you--At the same time, if I can't get what I like, why, I can do without -it. I don't mind sitting down to burnt steak, with canned peaches and store -cake for a thrilling little dessert afterwards, but I do draw the line at -having to sympathize with Zilla because she's so rotten bad-tempered that the -cook has quit, and she's been so busy sitting in a dirty lace negligee all -afternoon, reading about some brave manly Western hero, that she hasn't had -time to do any cooking. You're always talking about 'morals'--meaning -monogamy, I suppose. You've been the rock of ages to me, all right, but you're -essentially a simp. You--" - -"Where d' you get that 'simp,' little man? Let me tell you--" - -"--love to look earnest and inform the world that it's the 'duty of -responsible business men to be strictly moral, as an example to the -community.' In fact you're so earnest about morality, old Georgie, that I -hate to think how essentially immoral you must be underneath. All right, you -can--" - -"Wait, wait now! What's--" - -"--talk about morals all you want to, old thing, but believe me, if it hadn't -been for you and an occasional evening playing the violin to Terrill -O'Farrell's 'cello, and three or four darling girls that let me forget this -beastly joke they call 'respectable life,' I'd 've killed myself years ago. - -"And business! The roofing business! Roofs for cowsheds! Oh, I don't mean I -haven't had a lot of fun out of the Game; out of putting it over on the labor -unions, and seeing a big check coming in, and the business increasing. But -what's the use of it? You know, my business isn't distributing roofing--it's -principally keeping my competitors from distributing roofing. Same with you. -All we do is cut each other's throats and make the public pay for it!" - -"Look here now, Paul! You're pretty darn near talking socialism!" - -"Oh yes, of course I don't really exactly mean that--I s'pose. -Course--competition--brings out the best--survival of the fittest--but--But I -mean: Take all these fellows we know, the kind right here in the club now, -that seem to be perfectly content with their home-life and their businesses, -and that boost Zenith and the Chamber of Commerce and holler for a million -population. I bet if you could cut into their heads you'd find that one-third -of 'em are sure-enough satisfied with their wives and kids and friends and -their offices; and one-third feel kind of restless but won't admit it; and -one-third are miserable and know it. They hate the whole peppy, boosting, -go-ahead game, and they're bored by their wives and think their families are -fools--at least when they come to forty or forty-five they're bored--and they -hate business, and they'd go--Why do you suppose there's so many 'mysterious' -suicides? Why do you suppose so many Substantial Citizens jumped right into -the war? Think it was all patriotism?" - -Babbitt snorted, "What do you expect? Think we were sent into the world to -have a soft time and--what is it?--'float on flowery beds of ease'? Think Man -was just made to be happy?" - -"Why not? Though I've never discovered anybody that knew what the deuce Man -really was made for!" - -"Well we know--not just in the Bible alone, but it stands to reason--a man who -doesn't buckle down and do his duty, even if it does bore him sometimes, is -nothing but a--well, he's simply a weakling. Mollycoddle, in fact! And what -do you advocate? Come down to cases! If a man is bored by his wife, do you -seriously mean he has a right to chuck her and take a sneak, or even kill -himself?" - -"Good Lord, I don't know what 'rights' a man has! And I don't know the -solution of boredom. If I did, I'd be the one philosopher that had the cure -for living. But I do know that about ten times as many people find their lives -dull, and unnecessarily dull, as ever admit it; and I do believe that if we -busted out and admitted it sometimes, instead of being nice and patient and -loyal for sixty years, and then nice and patient and dead for the rest of -eternity, why, maybe, possibly, we might make life more fun." - -They drifted into a maze of speculation. Babbitt was elephantishly uneasy. -Paul was bold, but not quite sure about what he was being bold. Now and then -Babbitt suddenly agreed with Paul in an admission which contradicted all his -defense of duty and Christian patience, and at each admission he had a curious -reckless joy. He said at last: - -"Look here, old Paul, you do a lot of talking about kicking things in the -face, but you never kick. Why don't you?" - -"Nobody does. Habit too strong. But--Georgie, I've been thinking of one mild -bat--oh, don't worry, old pillar of monogamy; it's highly proper. It seems to -be settled now, isn't it--though of course Zilla keeps rooting for a nice -expensive vacation in New York and Atlantic City, with the bright lights and -the bootlegged cocktails and a bunch of lounge-lizards to dance with--but the -Babbitts and the Rieslings are sure-enough going to Lake Sunasquam, aren't we? -Why couldn't you and I make some excuse--say business in New York--and get up -to Maine four or five days before they do, and just loaf by ourselves and -smoke and cuss and be natural?" - -"Great! Great idea!" Babbitt admired. - -Not for fourteen years had he taken a holiday without his wife, and neither of -them quite believed they could commit this audacity. Many members of the -Athletic Club did go camping without their wives, but they were officially -dedicated to fishing and hunting, whereas the sacred and unchangeable sports -of Babbitt and Paul Riesling were golfing, motoring, and bridge. For either -the fishermen or the golfers to have changed their habits would have been an -infraction of their self-imposed discipline which would have shocked all -right-thinking and regularized citizens. - -Babbitt blustered, "Why don't we just put our foot down and say, 'We're going -on ahead of you, and that's all there is to it!' Nothing criminal in it. -Simply say to Zilla--" - -"You don't say anything to Zilla simply. Why, Georgie, she's almost as much -of a moralist as you are, and if I told her the truth she'd believe we were -going to meet some dames in New York. And even Myra--she never nags you, the -way Zilla does, but she'd worry. She'd say, 'Don't you WANT me to go to Maine -with you? I shouldn't dream of going unless you wanted me;' and you'd give in -to save her feelings. Oh, the devil! Let's have a shot at duck-pins." - -During the game of duck-pins, a juvenile form of bowling, Paul was silent. As -they came down the steps of the club, not more than half an hour after the -time at which Babbitt had sternly told Miss McGoun he would be back, Paul -sighed, "Look here, old man, oughtn't to talked about Zilla way I did." - -"Rats, old man, it lets off steam." - -"Oh, I know! After spending all noon sneering at the conventional stuff, I'm -conventional enough to be ashamed of saving my life by busting out with my -fool troubles!" - -"Old Paul, your nerves are kind of on the bum. I'm going to take you away. -I'm going to rig this thing. I'm going to have an important deal in New York -and--and sure, of course!--I'll need you to advise me on the roof of the -building! And the ole deal will fall through, and there'll be nothing for us -but to go on ahead to Maine. I--Paul, when it comes right down to it, I don't -care whether you bust loose or not. I do like having a rep for being one of -the Bunch, but if you ever needed me I'd chuck it and come out for you every -time! Not of course but what you're--course I don't mean you'd ever do -anything that would put--that would put a decent position on the fritz -but--See how I mean? I'm kind of a clumsy old codger, and I need your fine -Eyetalian hand. We--Oh, hell, I can't stand here gassing all day! On the -job! S' long! Don't take any wooden money, Paulibus! See you soon! S' -long!" - - - -CHAPTER VI - -I - -HE forgot Paul Riesling in an afternoon of not unagreeable details. After a -return to his office, which seemed to have staggered on without him, he drove -a "prospect" out to view a four-flat tenement in the Linton district. He was -inspired by the customer's admiration of the new cigar-lighter. Thrice its -novelty made him use it, and thrice he hurled half-smoked cigarettes from the -car, protesting, "I GOT to quit smoking so blame much!" - -Their ample discussion of every detail of the cigar-lighter led them to speak -of electric flat-irons and bed-warmers. Babbitt apologized for being so -shabbily old-fashioned as still to use a hot-water bottle, and he announced -that he would have the sleeping-porch wired at once. He had enormous and -poetic admiration, though very little understanding, of all mechanical -devices. They were his symbols of truth and beauty. Regarding each new -intricate mechanism--metal lathe, two-jet carburetor, machine gun, -oxyacetylene welder--he learned one good realistic-sounding phrase, and used -it over and over, with a delightful feeling of being technical and initiated. - -The customer joined him in the worship of machinery, and they came buoyantly -up to the tenement and began that examination of plastic slate roof, kalamein -doors, and seven-eighths-inch blind-nailed flooring, began those diplomacies -of hurt surprise and readiness to be persuaded to do something they had -already decided to do, which would some day result in a sale. - -On the way back Babbitt picked up his partner and father-in-law, Henry T. -Thompson, at his kitchen-cabinet works, and they drove through South Zenith, a -high-colored, banging, exciting region: new factories of hollow tile with -gigantic wire-glass windows, surly old red-brick factories stained with tar, -high-perched water-tanks, big red trucks like locomotives, and, on a score of -hectic side-tracks, far-wandering freight-cars from the New York Central and -apple orchards, the Great Northern and wheat-plateaus, the Southern Pacific -and orange groves. - -They talked to the secretary of the Zenith Foundry Company about an -interesting artistic project--a cast-iron fence for Linden Lane Cemetery. -They drove on to the Zeeco Motor Company and interviewed the sales-manager, -Noel Ryland, about a discount on a Zeeco car for Thompson. Babbitt and Ryland -were fellow-members of the Boosters' Club, and no Booster felt right if he -bought anything from another Booster without receiving a discount. But Henry -Thompson growled, "Oh, t' hell with 'em! I'm not going to crawl around -mooching discounts, not from nobody." It was one of the differences between -Thompson, the old-fashioned, lean Yankee, rugged, traditional, stage type of -American business man, and Babbitt, the plump, smooth, efficient, -up-to-the-minute and otherwise perfected modern. Whenever Thompson twanged, -"Put your John Hancock on that line," Babbitt was as much amused by the -antiquated provincialism as any proper Englishman by any American. He knew -himself to be of a breeding altogether more esthetic and sensitive than -Thompson's. He was a college graduate, he played golf, he often smoked -cigarettes instead of cigars, and when he went to Chicago he took a room with -a private bath. "The whole thing is," he explained to Paul Riesling, "these -old codgers lack the subtlety that you got to have to-day." - -This advance in civilization could be carried too far, Babbitt perceived. Noel -Ryland, sales-manager of the Zeeco, was a frivolous graduate of Princeton, -while Babbitt was a sound and standard ware from that great department-store, -the State University. Ryland wore spats, he wrote long letters about City -Planning and Community Singing, and, though he was a Booster, he was known to -carry in his pocket small volumes of poetry in a foreign language. All this -was going too far. Henry Thompson was the extreme of insularity, and Noel -Ryland the extreme of frothiness, while between them, supporting the state, -defending the evangelical churches and domestic brightness and sound business, -were Babbitt and his friends. - -With this just estimate of himself--and with the promise of a discount on -Thompson's car--he returned to his office in triumph. - -But as he went through the corridor of the Reeves Building he sighed, "Poor -old Paul! I got to--Oh, damn Noel Ryland! Damn Charley McKelvey! Just -because they make more money than I do, they think they're so superior. I -wouldn't be found dead in their stuffy old Union Club! I--Somehow, to-day, I -don't feel like going back to work. Oh well--" - - -II - -He answered telephone calls, he read the four o'clock mail, he signed his -morning's letters, he talked to a tenant about repairs, he fought with Stanley -Graff. - -Young Graff, the outside salesman, was always hinting that he deserved an -increase of commission, and to-day he complained, "I think I ought to get a -bonus if I put through the Heiler sale. I'm chasing around and working on it -every single evening, almost." - -Babbitt frequently remarked to his wife that it was better to "con your -office-help along and keep 'em happy 'stead of jumping on 'em and poking 'em -up--get more work out of 'em that way," but this unexampled lack of -appreciation hurt him, and he turned on Graff: - -"Look here, Stan; let's get this clear. You've got an idea somehow that it's -you that do all the selling. Where d' you get that stuff? Where d' you think -you'd be if it wasn't for our capital behind you, and our lists of properties, -and all the prospects we find for you? All you got to do is follow up our tips -and close the deal. The hall-porter could sell Babbitt-Thompson listings! You -say you're engaged to a girl, but have to put in your evenings chasing after -buyers. Well, why the devil shouldn't you? What do you want to do? Sit -around holding her hand? Let me tell you, Stan, if your girl is worth her -salt, she'll be glad to know you're out hustling, making some money to furnish -the home-nest, instead of doing the lovey-dovey. The kind of fellow that kicks -about working overtime, that wants to spend his evenings reading trashy novels -or spooning and exchanging a lot of nonsense and foolishness with some girl, -he ain't the kind of upstanding, energetic young man, with a future--and with -Vision!--that we want here. How about it? What's your Ideal, anyway? Do you -want to make money and be a responsible member of the community, or do you -want to be a loafer, with no Inspiration or Pep?" - -Graff was not so amenable to Vision and Ideals as usual. "You bet I want to -make money! That's why I want that bonus! Honest, Mr. Babbitt, I don't want -to get fresh, but this Heiler house is a terror. Nobody'll fall for it. The -flooring is rotten and the walls are full of cracks" - -"That's exactly what I mean! To a salesman with a love for his profession, -it's hard problems like that that inspire him to do his best. Besides, -Stan--Matter o' fact, Thompson and I are against bonuses, as a matter of -principle. We like you, and we want to help you so you can get married, but -we can't be unfair to the others on the staff. If we start giving you bonuses, -don't you see we're going to hurt the feeling and be unjust to Penniman and -Laylock? Right's right, and discrimination is unfair, and there ain't going -to be any of it in this office! Don't get the idea, Stan, that because during -the war salesmen were hard to hire, now, when there's a lot of men out of -work, there aren't a slew of bright young fellows that would be glad to step -in and enjoy your opportunities, and not act as if Thompson and I were his -enemies and not do any work except for bonuses. How about it, heh? How about -it?" - -"Oh--well--gee--of course--" sighed Graff, as he went out, crabwise. - -Babbitt did not often squabble with his employees. He liked to like the -people about him; he was dismayed when they did not like him. It was only when -they attacked the sacred purse that he was frightened into fury, but then, -being a man given to oratory and high principles, he enjoyed the sound of his -own vocabulary and the warmth of his own virtue. Today he had so passionately -indulged in self-approval that he wondered whether he had been entirely just: - -"After all, Stan isn't a boy any more. Oughtn't to call him so hard. But -rats, got to haul folks over the coals now and then for their own good. -Unpleasant duty, but--I wonder if Stan is sore? What's he saying to McGoun -out there?" - -So chill a wind of hatred blew from the outer office that the normal comfort -of his evening home-going was ruined. He was distressed by losing that -approval of his employees to which an executive is always slave. Ordinarily he -left the office with a thousand enjoyable fussy directions to the effect that -there would undoubtedly be important tasks to-morrow, and Miss McGoun and Miss -Bannigan would do well to be there early, and for heaven's sake remind him to -call up Conrad Lyte soon 's he came in. To-night he departed with feigned and -apologetic liveliness. He was as afraid of his still-faced clerks--of the eyes -focused on him, Miss McGoun staring with head lifted from her typing, Miss -Bannigan looking over her ledger, Mat Penniman craning around at his desk in -the dark alcove, Stanley Graff sullenly expressionless--as a parvenu before -the bleak propriety of his butler. He hated to expose his back to their -laughter, and in his effort to be casually merry he stammered and was -raucously friendly and oozed wretchedly out of the door. - -But he forgot his misery when he saw from Smith Street the charms of Floral -Heights; the roofs of red tile and green slate, the shining new sun-parlors, -and the stainless walls. - - -III - -He stopped to inform Howard Littlefield, his scholarly neighbor, that though -the day had been springlike the evening might be cold. He went in to shout -"Where are you?" at his wife, with no very definite desire to know where she -was. He examined the lawn to see whether the furnace-man had raked it -properly. With some satisfaction and a good deal of discussion of the matter -with Mrs. Babbitt, Ted, and Howard Littlefield, he concluded that the -furnace-man had not raked it properly. He cut two tufts of wild grass with -his wife's largest dressmaking-scissors; he informed Ted that it was all -nonsense having a furnace-man--"big husky fellow like you ought to do all the -work around the house;" and privately he meditated that it was agreeable to -have it known throughout the neighborhood that he was so prosperous that his -son never worked around the house. - -He stood on the sleeping-porch and did his day's exercises: arms out sidewise -for two minutes, up for two minutes, while he muttered, "Ought take more -exercise; keep in shape;" then went in to see whether his collar needed -changing before dinner. As usual it apparently did not. - -The Lettish-Croat maid, a powerful woman, beat the dinner-gong. - - -The roast of beef, roasted potatoes, and string beans were excellent this -evening and, after an adequate sketch of the day's progressive weather-states, -his four-hundred-and-fifty-dollar fee, his lunch with Paul Riesling, and the -proven merits of the new cigar-lighter, he was moved to a benign, "Sort o' -thinking about buyin, a new car. Don't believe we'll get one till next year, -but still we might." - -Verona, the older daughter, cried, "Oh, Dad, if you do, why don't you get a -sedan? That would be perfectly slick! A closed car is so much more comfy than -an open one." - -"Well now, I don't know about that. I kind of like an open car. You get more -fresh air that way." - -"Oh, shoot, that's just because you never tried a sedan. Let's get one. It's -got a lot more class," said Ted. - -"A closed car does keep the clothes nicer," from Mrs. Babbitt; "You don't get -your hair blown all to pieces," from Verona; "It's a lot sportier," from Ted; -and from Tinka, the youngest, "Oh, let's have a sedan! Mary Ellen's father has -got one." Ted wound up, "Oh, everybody's got a closed car now, except us!" - -Babbitt faced them: "I guess you got nothing very terrible to complain about! -Anyway, I don't keep a car just to enable you children to look like -millionaires! And I like an open car, so you can put the top down on summer -evenings and go out for a drive and get some good fresh air. Besides--A -closed car costs more money." - -"Aw, gee whiz, if the Doppelbraus can afford a closed car, I guess we can!" -prodded Ted. - -"Humph! I make eight thousand a year to his seven! But I don't blow it all -in and waste it and throw it around, the way he does! Don't believe in this -business of going and spending a whole lot of money to show off and--" - -They went, with ardor and some thoroughness, into the matters of streamline -bodies, hill-climbing power, wire wheels, chrome steel, ignition systems, and -body colors. It was much more than a study of transportation. It was an -aspiration for knightly rank. In the city of Zenith, in the barbarous -twentieth century, a family's motor indicated its social rank as precisely as -the grades of the peerage determined the rank of an English family--indeed, -more precisely, considering the opinion of old county families upon newly -created brewery barons and woolen-mill viscounts. The details of precedence -were never officially determined. There was no court to decide whether the -second son of a Pierce Arrow limousine should go in to dinner before the first -son of a Buick roadster, but of their respective social importance there was -no doubt; and where Babbitt as a boy had aspired to the presidency, his son -Ted aspired to a Packard twin-six and an established position in the motored -gentry. - -The favor which Babbitt had won from his family by speaking of a new car -evaporated as they realized that he didn't intend to buy one this year. Ted -lamented, "Oh, punk! The old boat looks as if it'd had fleas and been -scratching its varnish off." Mrs. Babbitt said abstractedly, "Snoway talkcher -father." Babbitt raged, "If you're too much of a high-class gentleman, and you -belong to the bon ton and so on, why, you needn't take the car out this -evening." Ted explained, "I didn't mean--" and dinner dragged on with normal -domestic delight to the inevitable point at which Babbitt protested, "Come, -come now, we can't sit here all evening. Give the girl a chance to clear away -the table." - -He was fretting, "What a family! I don't know how we all get to scrapping -this way. Like to go off some place and be able to hear myself think.... Paul -... Maine ... Wear old pants, and loaf, and cuss." He said cautiously to his -wife, "I've been in correspondence with a man in New York--wants me to see him -about a real-estate trade--may not come off till summer. Hope it doesn't break -just when we and the Rieslings get ready to go to Maine. Be a shame if we -couldn't make the trip there together. Well, no use worrying now." - -Verona escaped, immediately after dinner, with no discussion save an automatic -"Why don't you ever stay home?" from Babbitt. - -In the living-room, in a corner of the davenport, Ted settled down to his Home -Study; plain geometry, Cicero, and the agonizing metaphors of Comus. - -"I don't see why they give us this old-fashioned junk by Milton and -Shakespeare and Wordsworth and all these has-beens," he protested. "Oh, I -guess I could stand it to see a show by Shakespeare, if they had swell scenery -and put on a lot of dog, but to sit down in cold blood and READ 'em--These -teachers--how do they get that way?" - -Mrs. Babbitt, darning socks, speculated, "Yes, I wonder why. Of course I don't -want to fly in the face of the professors and everybody, but I do think -there's things in Shakespeare--not that I read him much, but when I was young -the girls used to show me passages that weren't, really, they weren't at all -nice." - -Babbitt looked up irritably from the comic strips in the Evening Advocate. -They composed his favorite literature and art, these illustrated chronicles in -which Mr. Mutt hit Mr. Jeff with a rotten egg, and Mother corrected Father's -vulgarisms by means of a rolling-pin. With the solemn face of a devotee, -breathing heavily through his open mouth, he plodded nightly through every -picture, and during the rite he detested interruptions. Furthermore, he felt -that on the subject of Shakespeare he wasn't really an authority. Neither the -Advocate-Times, the Evening Advocate, nor the Bulletin of the Zenith Chamber -of Commerce had ever had an editorial on the matter, and until one of them had -spoken he found it hard to form an original opinion. But even at risk of -floundering in strange bogs, he could not keep out of an open controversy. - -"I'll tell you why you have to study Shakespeare and those. It's because -they're required for college entrance, and that's all there is to it! -Personally, I don't see myself why they stuck 'em into an up-to-date -high-school system like we have in this state. Be a good deal better if you -took Business English, and learned how to write an ad, or letters that would -pull. But there it is, and there's no tall, argument, or discussion about it! -Trouble with you, Ted, is you always want to do something different! If you're -going to law-school--and you are!--I never had a chance to, but I'll see that -you do--why, you'll want to lay in all the English and Latin you can get." - -"Oh punk. I don't see what's the use of law-school--or even finishing high -school. I don't want to go to college 'specially. Honest, there's lot of -fellows that have graduated from colleges that don't begin to make as much -money as fellows that went to work early. Old Shimmy Peters, that teaches -Latin in the High, he's a what-is-it from Columbia and he sits up all night -reading a lot of greasy books and he's always spieling about the 'value of -languages,' and the poor soak doesn't make but eighteen hundred a year, and no -traveling salesman would think of working for that. I know what I'd like to -do. I'd like to be an aviator, or own a corking big garage, or else--a fellow -was telling me about it yesterday--I'd like to be one of these fellows that -the Standard Oil Company sends out to China, and you live in a compound and -don't have to do any work, and you get to see the world and pagodas and the -ocean and everything! And then I could take up correspondence-courses. That's -the real stuff! You don't have to recite to some frosty-faced old dame that's -trying to show off to the principal, and you can study any subject you want -to. Just listen to these! I clipped out the ads of some swell courses." - -He snatched from the back of his geometry half a hundred advertisements of -those home-study courses which the energy and foresight of American commerce -have contributed to the science of education. The first displayed the portrait -of a young man with a pure brow, an iron jaw, silk socks, and hair like patent -leather. Standing with one hand in his trousers-pocket and the other extended -with chiding forefinger, he was bewitching an audience of men with gray -beards, paunches, bald heads, and every other sign of wisdom and prosperity. -Above the picture was an inspiring educational symbol--no antiquated lamp or -torch or owl of Minerva, but a row of dollar signs. The text ran: - - $ $ $ $ $ $ $ $ $ - POWER AND PROSPERITY IN PUBLIC SPEAKING - - A Yarn Told at the Club - -Who do you think I ran into the other evening at the De Luxe Restaurant? Why, -old Freddy Durkee, that used to be a dead or-alive shipping clerk in my old -place--Mr. Mouse-Man we used to laughingly call the dear fellow. One time he -was so timid he was plumb scared of the Super, and never got credit for the -dandy work he did. Him at the De Luxe! And if he wasn't ordering a tony feed -with all the "fixings" from celery to nuts! And instead of being embarrassed -by the waiters, like he used to be at the little dump where we lunched in Old -Lang Syne, he was bossing them around like he was a millionaire! - -I cautiously asked him what he was doing. Freddy laughed and said, "Say, old -chum, I guess you're wondering what's come over me. You'll be glad to know I'm -now Assistant Super at the old shop, and right on the High Road to Prosperity -and Domination, and I look forward with confidence to a twelve-cylinder car, -and the wife is making things hum in the best society and the kiddies getting -a first-class education. - --------------------------------- -WHAT WE TEACH YOU I - -How to address your lodge. - -How to give toasts. - -How to tell dialect stories. - -How to propose to a lady. - -How to entertain banquets. - -How to make convincing selling-talks. - -How to build big vocabulary. - -How to create a strong personality. - -How to become a rational, powerful and original thinker. - -How to be a MASTER MAN! --------------------------------- ------------------------------ -PROF. W. F. PEET - -author of the Shortcut Course in Public-Speaking, is easily the foremost -figure in practical literature, psychology & oratory. A graduate of some of -our leading universities, lecturer, extensive traveler, author of books, -poetry, etc., a man with the unique PERSONALITY OF THE MASTER MINDS, he is -ready to give YOU all the secrets of his culture and hammering Force, in a few -easy lessons that will not interfere with other occupations. --------------------------------- - -"Here's how it happened. I ran across an ad of a course that claimed to teach -people how to talk easily and on their feet, how to answer complaints, how to -lay a proposition before the Boss, how to hit a bank for a loan, how to hold a -big audience spellbound with wit, humor, anecdote, inspiration, etc. It was -compiled by the Master Orator, Prof. Waldo F. Peet. I was skeptical, too, but -I wrote (JUST ON A POSTCARD, with name and address) to the publisher for the -lessons--sent On Trial, money back if you are not absolutely satisfied. There -were eight simple lessons in plain language anybody could understand, and I -studied them just a few hours a night, then started practising on the wife. -Soon found I could talk right up to the Super and get due credit for all the -good work I did. They began to appreciate me and advance me fast, and say, old -doggo, what do you think they're paying me now? $6,500 per year! And say, I -find I can keep a big audience fascinated, speaking on any topic. As a -friend, old boy, I advise you to send for circular (no obligation) and -valuable free Art Picture to:-- - - - SHORTCUT EDUCATIONAL PUB. CO. - Desk WA Sandpit, Iowa. - -ARE YOU A 100 PERCENTER OR A 10 PERCENTER? - - -Babbitt was again without a canon which would enable him to speak with -authority. Nothing in motoring or real estate had indicated what a Solid -Citizen and Regular Fellow ought to think about culture by mail. He began with -hesitation: - -"Well--sounds as if it covered the ground. It certainly is a fine thing to be -able to orate. I've sometimes thought I had a little talent that way myself, -and I know darn well that one reason why a fourflushing old back-number like -Chan Mott can get away with it in real estate is just because he can make a -good talk, even when he hasn't got a doggone thing to say! And it certainly is -pretty cute the way they get out all these courses on various topics and -subjects nowadays. I'll tell you, though: No need to blow in a lot of good -money on this stuff when you can get a first-rate course in eloquence and -English and all that right in your own school--and one of the biggest school -buildings in the entire country!" - -"That's so," said Mrs. Babbitt comfortably, while Ted complained: - -"Yuh, but Dad, they just teach a lot of old junk that isn't any practical -use--except the manual training and typewriting and basketball and -dancing--and in these correspondence-courses, gee, you can get all kinds of -stuff that would come in handy. Say, listen to this one: - - 'CAN YOU PLAY A MAN'S PART? - -'If you are walking with your mother, sister or best girl and some one passes -a slighting remark or uses improper language, won't you be ashamed if you -can't take her part? Well, can you? - -'We teach boxing and self-defense by mail. Many pupils have written saying -that after a few lessons they've outboxed bigger and heavier opponents. The -lessons start with simple movements practised before your mirror--holding out -your hand for a coin, the breast-stroke in swimming, etc. Before you realize -it you are striking scientifically, ducking, guarding and feinting, just as if -you had a real opponent before you.'" - - -"Oh, baby, maybe I wouldn't like that!" Ted chanted. "I'll tell the world! -Gosh, I'd like to take one fellow I know in school that's always shooting off -his mouth, and catch him alone--" - -"Nonsense! The idea! Most useless thing I ever heard of!" Babbitt -fulminated. - -"Well, just suppose I was walking with Mama or Rone, and somebody passed a -slighting remark or used improper language. What would I do?" - -"Why, you'd probably bust the record for the hundred-yard dash!" - -"I WOULD not! I'd stand right up to any mucker that passed a slighting remark -on MY sister and I'd show him--" - -"Look here, young Dempsey! If I ever catch you fighting I'll whale the -everlasting daylights out of you--and I'll do it without practising holding -out my hand for a coin before the mirror, too!" - -"Why, Ted dear," Mrs. Babbitt said placidly, "it's not at all nice, your -talking of fighting this way!" - -"Well, gosh almighty, that's a fine way to appreciate--And then suppose I was -walking with YOU, Ma, and somebody passed a slighting remark--" - -"Nobody's going to pass no slighting remarks on nobody," Babbitt observed, -"not if they stay home and study their geometry and mind their own affairs -instead of hanging around a lot of poolrooms and soda-fountains and places -where nobody's got any business to be!" - -"But gooooooosh, Dad, if they DID!" - -Mrs. Babbitt chirped, "Well, if they did, I wouldn't do them the honor of -paying any attention to them! Besides, they never do. You always hear about -these women that get followed and insulted and all, but I don't believe a word -of it, or it's their own fault, the way some women look at a person. I -certainly never 've been insulted by--" - -"Aw shoot. Mother, just suppose you WERE sometime! Just SUPPOSE! Can't you -suppose something? Can't you imagine things?" - -"Certainly I can imagine things! The idea!" - -"Certainly your mother can imagine things--and suppose things! Think you're -the only member of this household that's got an imagination?" Babbitt -demanded. "But what's the use of a lot of supposing? Supposing never gets you -anywhere. No sense supposing when there's a lot of real facts to take into -considera--" - -"Look here, Dad. Suppose--I mean, just--just suppose you were in your office -and some rival real-estate man--" - -"Realtor!" - -"--some realtor that you hated came in--" - -"I don't hate any realtor." - -"But suppose you DID!" - -"I don't intend to suppose anything of the kind! There's plenty of fellows in -my profession that stoop and hate their competitors, but if you were a little -older and understood business, instead of always going to the movies and -running around with a lot of fool girls with their dresses up to their knees -and powdered and painted and rouged and God knows what all as if they were -chorus-girls, then you'd know--and you'd suppose--that if there's any one -thing that I stand for in the real-estate circles of Zenith, it is that we -ought to always speak of each other only in the friendliest terms and -institute a spirit of brotherhood and cooperation, and so I certainly can't -suppose and I can't imagine my hating any realtor, not even that dirty, -fourflushing society sneak, Cecil Rountree!" - -"But--" - -"And there's no If, And or But about it! But if I WERE going to lambaste -somebody, I wouldn't require any fancy ducks or swimming-strokes before a -mirror, or any of these doodads and flipflops! Suppose you were out some place -and a fellow called you vile names. Think you'd want to box and jump around -like a dancing-master? You'd just lay him out cold (at least I certainly hope -any son of mine would!) and then you'd dust off your hands and go on about -your business, and that's all there is to it, and you aren't going to have any -boxing-lessons by mail, either!" - -"Well but--Yes--I just wanted to show how many different kinds of -correspondence-courses there are, instead of all the camembert they teach us -in the High." - -"But I thought they taught boxing in the school gymnasium." - -"That's different. They stick you up there and some big stiff amuses himself -pounding the stuffin's out of you before you have a chance to learn. Hunka! -Not any! But anyway--Listen to some of these others." - -The advertisements were truly philanthropic. One of them bore the rousing -headline: "Money! Money!! Money!!!" The second announced that "Mr. P. R., -formerly making only eighteen a week in a barber shop, writes to us that since -taking our course he is now pulling down $5,000 as an Osteo-vitalic -Physician;" and the third that "Miss J. L., recently a wrapper in a store, is -now getting Ten Real Dollars a day teaching our Hindu System of Vibratory -Breathing and Mental Control." - -Ted had collected fifty or sixty announcements, from annual reference-books, -from Sunday School periodicals, fiction-magazines, and journals of discussion. -One benefactor implored, "Don't be a Wallflower--Be More Popular and Make More -Money--YOU Can Ukulele or Sing Yourself into Society! By the secret -principles of a Newly Discovered System of Music Teaching, any one--man, lady -or child--can, without tiresome exercises, special training or long drawn out -study, and without waste of time, money or energy, learn to play by note, -piano, banjo, cornet, clarinet, saxophone, violin or drum, and learn -sight-singing." - -The next, under the wistful appeal "Finger Print Detectives Wanted--Big -Incomes!" confided: "YOU red-blooded men and women--this is the PROFESSION -you have been looking for. There's MONEY in it, BIG money, and that rapid -change of scene, that entrancing and compelling interest and fascination, -which your active mind and adventurous spirit crave. Think of being the chief -figure and directing factor in solving strange mysteries and baffling crimes. -This wonderful profession brings you into contact with influential men on the -basis of equality, and often calls upon you to travel everywhere, maybe to -distant lands--all expenses paid. NO SPECIAL EDUCATION REQUIRED." - -"Oh, boy! I guess that wins the fire-brick necklace! Wouldn't it be swell to -travel everywhere and nab some famous crook!" whooped Ted. - -"Well, I don't think much of that. Doggone likely to get hurt. Still, that -music-study stunt might be pretty fair, though. There's no reason why, if -efficiency-experts put their minds to it the way they have to routing products -in a factory, they couldn't figure out some scheme so a person wouldn't have -to monkey with all this practising and exercises that you get in music." -Babbitt was impressed, and he had a delightful parental feeling that they two, -the men of the family, understood each other. - -He listened to the notices of mail-box universities which taught Short-story -Writing and Improving the Memory, Motion-picture-acting and Developing the -Soul-power, Banking and Spanish, Chiropody and Photography, Electrical -Engineering and Window-trimming, Poultry-raising and Chemistry. - -"Well--well--" Babbitt sought for adequate expression of his admiration. "I'm -a son of a gun! I knew this correspondence-school business had become a -mighty profitable game--makes suburban real-estate look like two cents!--but I -didn't realize it'd got to be such a reg'lar key-industry! Must rank right up -with groceries and movies. Always figured somebody'd come along with the -brains to not leave education to a lot of bookworms and impractical theorists -but make a big thing out of it. Yes, I can see how a lot of these courses -might interest you. I must ask the fellows at the Athletic if they ever -realized--But same time, Ted, you know how advertisers, I means some -advertisers, exaggerate. I don't know as they'd be able to jam you through -these courses as fast as they claim they can." - -"Oh sure, Dad; of course." Ted had the immense and joyful maturity of a boy -who is respectfully listened to by his elders. Babbitt concentrated on him -with grateful affection: - -"I can see what an influence these courses might have on the whole educational -works. Course I'd never admit it publicly--fellow like myself, a State U. -graduate, it's only decent and patriotic for him to blow his horn and boost -the Alma Mater--but smatter of fact, there's a whole lot of valuable time lost -even at the U., studying poetry and French and subjects that never brought in -anybody a cent. I don't know but what maybe these correspondence-courses might -prove to be one of the most important American inventions. - -"Trouble with a lot of folks is: they're so blame material; they don't see -the spiritual and mental side of American supremacy; they think that -inventions like the telephone and the areoplane and wireless--no, that was a -Wop invention, but anyway: they think these mechanical improvements are all -that we stand for; whereas to a real thinker, he sees that spiritual and, uh, -dominating movements like Efficiency, and Rotarianism, and Prohibition, and -Democracy are what compose our deepest and truest wealth. And maybe this new -principle in education-at-home may be another--may be another factor. I tell -you, Ted, we've got to have Vision--" - -"I think those correspondence-courses are terrible!" - -The philosophers gasped. It was Mrs. Babbitt who had made this discord in -their spiritual harmony, and one of Mrs. Babbitt's virtues was that, except -during dinner-parties, when she was transformed into a raging hostess, she -took care of the house and didn't bother the males by thinking. She went on -firmly: - -"It sounds awful to me, the way they coax those poor young folks to think -they're learning something, and nobody 'round to help them and--You two learn -so quick, but me, I always was slow. But just the same--" - -Babbitt attended to her: "Nonsense! Get just as much, studying at home. You -don't think a fellow learns any more because he blows in his father's -hard-earned money and sits around in Morris chairs in a swell Harvard -dormitory with pictures and shields and table-covers and those doodads, do -you? I tell you, I'm a college man--I KNOW! There is one objection you might -make though. I certainly do protest against any effort to get a lot of -fellows out of barber shops and factories into the professions. They're too -crowded already, and what'll we do for workmen if all those fellows go and get -educated?" - -Ted was leaning back, smoking a cigarette without reproof. He was, for the -moment, sharing the high thin air of Babbitt's speculation as though he were -Paul Riesling or even Dr. Howard Littlefield. He hinted: - -"Well, what do you think then, Dad? Wouldn't it be a good idea if I could go -off to China or some peppy place, and study engineering or something by mail?" - -"No, and I'll tell you why, son. I've found out it's a mighty nice thing to -be able to say you're a B.A. Some client that doesn't know what you are and -thinks you're just a plug business man, he gets to shooting off his mouth -about economics or literature or foreign trade conditions, and you just ease -in something like, 'When I was in college--course I got my B.A. in sociology -and all that junk--' Oh, it puts an awful crimp in their style! But there -wouldn't be any class to saying 'I got the degree of Stamp-licker from the -Bezuzus Mail-order University! ' You see--My dad was a pretty good old coot, -but he never had much style to him, and I had to work darn hard to earn my way -through college. Well, it's been worth it, to be able to associate with the -finest gentlemen in Zenith, at the clubs and so on, and I wouldn't want you to -drop out of the gentlemen class--the class that are just as red-blooded as the -Common People but still have power and personality. It would kind of hurt me -if you did that, old man!" - -"I know, Dad! Sure! All right. I'll stick to it. Say! Gosh! Gee whiz! I -forgot all about those kids I was going to take to the chorus rehearsal. I'll -have to duck!" - -"But you haven't done all your home-work." - -"Do it first thing in the morning." - -"Well--" - -Six times in the past sixty days Babbitt had stormed, "You will not 'do it -first thing in the morning'! You'll do it right now!" but to-night he said, -"Well, better hustle," and his smile was the rare shy radiance he kept for -Paul Riesling. - - -IV - -"Ted's a good boy," he said to Mrs. Babbitt. - -"Oh, he is!" - -"Who's these girls he's going to pick up? Are they nice decent girls?" - -"I don't know. Oh dear, Ted never tells me anything any more. I don't -understand what's come over the children of this generation. I used to have to -tell Papa and Mama everything, but seems like the children to-day have just -slipped away from all control." - -"I hope they're decent girls. Course Ted's no longer a kid, and I wouldn't -want him to, uh, get mixed up and everything." - -"George: I wonder if you oughtn't to take him aside and tell him -about--Things!" She blushed and lowered her eyes. - -"Well, I don't know. Way I figure it, Myra, no sense suggesting a lot of -Things to a boy's mind. Think up enough devilment by himself. But I -wonder--It's kind of a hard question. Wonder what Littlefield thinks about -it?" - -"Course Papa agrees with you. He says all this--Instruction is--He says -'tisn't decent." - -"Oh, he does, does he! Well, let me tell you that whatever Henry T. Thompson -thinks--about morals, I mean, though course you can't beat the old duffer--" - -"Why, what a way to talk of Papa!" - -"--simply can't beat him at getting in on the ground floor of a deal, but let -me tell you whenever he springs any ideas about higher things and education, -then I know I think just the opposite. You may not regard me as any great -brain-shark, but believe me, I'm a regular college president, compared with -Henry T.! Yes sir, by golly, I'm going to take Ted aside and tell him why I -lead a strictly moral life." - -"Oh, will you? When?" - -"When? When? What's the use of trying to pin me down to When and Why and -Where and How and When? That's the trouble with women, that's why they don't -make high-class executives; they haven't any sense of diplomacy. When the -proper opportunity and occasion arises so it just comes in natural, why then -I'll have a friendly little talk with him and--and--Was that Tinka hollering -up-stairs? She ought to been asleep, long ago." - -He prowled through the living-room, and stood in the sun-parlor, that -glass-walled room of wicker chairs and swinging couch in which they loafed on -Sunday afternoons. Outside only the lights of Doppelbrau's house and the dim -presence of Babbitt's favorite elm broke the softness of April night. - -"Good visit with the boy. Getting over feeling cranky, way I did this -morning. And restless. Though, by golly, I will have a few days alone with -Paul in Maine! . . . That devil Zilla! . . . But . . . Ted's all right. Whole -family all right. And good business. Not many fellows make four hundred and -fifty bucks, practically half of a thousand dollars easy as I did to-day! -Maybe when we all get to rowing it's just as much my fault as it is theirs. -Oughtn't to get grouchy like I do. But--Wish I'd been a pioneer, same as my -grand-dad. But then, wouldn't have a house like this. I--Oh, gosh, I DON'T -KNOW!" - -He thought moodily of Paul Riesling, of their youth together, of the girls -they had known. - -When Babbitt had graduated from the State University, twenty-four years ago, -he had intended to be a lawyer. He had been a ponderous debater in college; he -felt that he was an orator; he saw himself becoming governor of the state. -While he read law he worked as a real-estate salesman. He saved money, lived -in a boarding-house, supped on poached egg on hash. The lively Paul Riesling -(who was certainly going off to Europe to study violin, next month or next -year) was his refuge till Paul was bespelled by Zilla Colbeck, who laughed and -danced and drew men after her plump and gaily wagging finger. - -Babbitt's evenings were barren then, and he found comfort only in Paul's -second cousin, Myra Thompson, a sleek and gentle girl who showed her capacity -by agreeing with the ardent young Babbitt that of course he was going to be -governor some day. Where Zilla mocked him as a country boy, Myra said -indignantly that he was ever so much solider than the young dandies who had -been born in the great city of Zenith--an ancient settlement in 1897, one -hundred and five years old, with two hundred thousand population, the queen -and wonder of all the state and, to the Catawba boy, George Babbitt, so vast -and thunderous and luxurious that he was flattered to know a girl ennobled by -birth in Zenith. - -Of love there was no talk between them. He knew that if he was to study law -he could not marry for years; and Myra was distinctly a Nice Girl--one didn't -kiss her, one didn't "think about her that way at all" unless one was going to -marry her. But she was a dependable companion. She was always ready to go -skating, walking; always content to hear his discourses on the great things he -was going to do, the distressed poor whom he would defend against the Unjust -Rich, the speeches he would make at Banquets, the inexactitudes of popular -thought which he would correct. - -One evening when he was weary and soft-minded, he saw that she had been -weeping. She had been left out of a party given by Zilla. Somehow her head -was on his shoulder and he was kissing away the tears--and she raised her head -to say trustingly, "Now that we're engaged, shall we be married soon or shall -we wait?" - -Engaged? It was his first hint of it. His affection for this brown tender -woman thing went cold and fearful, but he could not hurt her, could not abuse -her trust. He mumbled something about waiting, and escaped. He walked for an -hour, trying to find a way of telling her that it was a mistake. Often, in -the month after, he got near to telling her, but it was pleasant to have a -girl in his arms, and less and less could he insult her by blurting that he -didn't love her. He himself had no doubt. The evening before his marriage was -an agony, and the morning wild with the desire to flee. - -She made him what is known as a Good Wife. She was loyal, industrious, and at -rare times merry. She passed from a feeble disgust at their closer relations -into what promised to be ardent affection, but it drooped into bored routine. -Yet she existed only for him and for the children, and she was as sorry, as -worried as himself, when he gave up the law and trudged on in a rut of listing -real estate. - -"Poor kid, she hasn't had much better time than I have," Babbitt reflected, -standing in the dark sun-parlor. "But--I wish I could 've had a whirl at law -and politics. Seen what I could do. Well--Maybe I've made more money as it -is." - -He returned to the living-room but before he settled down he smoothed his -wife's hair, and she glanced up, happy and somewhat surprised. - - - -CHAPTER VII - -I - -HE solemnly finished the last copy of the American Magazine, while his wife -sighed, laid away her darning, and looked enviously at the lingerie designs in -a women's magazine. The room was very still. - -It was a room which observed the best Floral Heights standards. The gray walls -were divided into artificial paneling by strips of white-enameled pine. From -the Babbitts' former house had come two much-carved rocking-chairs, but the -other chairs were new, very deep and restful, upholstered in blue and -gold-striped velvet. A blue velvet davenport faced the fireplace, and behind -it was a cherrywood table and a tall piano-lamp with a shade of golden silk. -(Two out of every three houses in Floral Heights had before the fireplace a -davenport, a mahogany table real or imitation, and a piano-lamp or a -reading-lamp with a shade of yellow or rose silk.) - -On the table was a runner of gold-threaded Chinese fabric, four magazines, a -silver box containing cigarette-crumbs, and three "gift-books"--large, -expensive editions of fairy-tales illustrated by English artists and as yet -unread by any Babbitt save Tinka. - -In a corner by the front windows was a large cabinet Victrola. (Eight out of -every nine Floral Heights houses had a cabinet phonograph.) - -Among the pictures, hung in the exact center of each gray panel, were a red -and black imitation English hunting-print, an anemic imitation boudoir-print -with a French caption of whose morality Babbitt had always been rather -suspicious, and a "hand-colored" photograph of a Colonial room--rag rug, -maiden spinning, cat demure before a white fireplace. (Nineteen out of every -twenty houses in Floral Heights had either a hunting-print, a Madame Feit la -Toilette print, a colored photograph of a New England house, a photograph of a -Rocky Mountain, or all four.) - -It was a room as superior in comfort to the "parlor" of Babbitt's boyhood as -his motor was superior to his father's buggy. Though there was nothing in the -room that was interesting, there was nothing that was offensive. It was as -neat, and as negative, as a block of artificial ice. The fireplace was -unsoftened by downy ashes or by sooty brick; the brass fire-irons were of -immaculate polish; and the grenadier andirons were like samples in a shop, -desolate, unwanted, lifeless things of commerce. - -Against the wall was a piano, with another piano-lamp, but no one used it save -Tinka. The hard briskness of the phonograph contented them; their store of -jazz records made them feel wealthy and cultured; and all they knew of -creating music was the nice adjustment of a bamboo needle. The books on the -table were unspotted and laid in rigid parallels; not one corner of the -carpet-rug was curled; and nowhere was there a hockey-stick, a torn -picture-book, an old cap, or a gregarious and disorganizing dog. - - -II - -At home, Babbitt never read with absorption. He was concentrated enough at -the office but here he crossed his legs and fidgeted. When his story was -interesting he read the best, that is the funniest, paragraphs to his wife; -when it did not hold him he coughed, scratched his ankles and his right ear, -thrust his left thumb into his vest pocket, jingled his silver, whirled the -cigar-cutter and the keys on one end of his watch chain, yawned, rubbed his -nose, and found errands to do. He went upstairs to put on his slippers--his -elegant slippers of seal-brown, shaped like medieval shoes. He brought up an -apple from the barrel which stood by the trunk-closet in the basement. - -"An apple a day keeps the doctor away," he enlightened Mrs. Babbitt, for quite -the first time in fourteen hours. - -"That's so." - -"An apple is Nature's best regulator." - -"Yes, it--" - -"Trouble with women is, they never have sense enough to form regular habits." - -"Well, I--" - -"Always nibbling and eating between meals." - -"George!" She looked up from her reading. "Did you have a light lunch -to-day, like you were going to? I did!" - -This malicious and unprovoked attack astounded him. "Well, maybe it wasn't as -light as--Went to lunch with Paul and didn't have much chance to diet. Oh, -you needn't to grin like a chessy cat! If it wasn't for me watching out and -keeping an eye on our diet--I'm the only member of this family that -appreciates the value of oatmeal for breakfast. I--" - -She stooped over her story while he piously sliced and gulped down the apple, -discoursing: - -"One thing I've done: cut down my smoking. - -"Had kind of a run-in with Graff in the office. He's getting too darn fresh. -I'll stand for a good deal, but once in a while I got to assert my authority, -and I jumped him. 'Stan,' I said--Well, I told him just exactly where he got -off. - -"Funny kind of a day. Makes you feel restless. - -"Wellllllllll, uh--" That sleepiest sound in the world, the terminal yawn. -Mrs. Babbitt yawned with it, and looked grateful as he droned, "How about -going to bed, eh? Don't suppose Rone and Ted will be in till all hours. Yep, -funny kind of a day; not terribly warm but yet--Gosh, I'd like--Some day I'm -going to take a long motor trip." - -"Yes, we'd enjoy that," she yawned. - -He looked away from her as he realized that he did not wish to have her go -with him. As he locked doors and tried windows and set the heat regulator so -that the furnace-drafts would open automatically in the morning, he sighed a -little, heavy with a lonely feeling which perplexed and frightened him. So -absent-minded was he that he could not remember which window-catches he had -inspected, and through the darkness, fumbling at unseen perilous chairs, he -crept back to try them all over again. His feet were loud on the steps as he -clumped upstairs at the end of this great and treacherous day of veiled -rebellions. - - -III - -Before breakfast he always reverted to up-state village boyhood, and shrank -from the complex urban demands of shaving, bathing, deciding whether the -current shirt was clean enough for another day. Whenever he stayed home in the -evening he went to bed early, and thriftily got ahead in those dismal duties. -It was his luxurious custom to shave while sitting snugly in a tubful of hot -water. He may be viewed to-night as a plump, smooth, pink, baldish, podgy -goodman, robbed of the importance of spectacles, squatting in breast-high -water, scraping his lather-smeared cheeks with a safety-razor like a tiny -lawn-mower, and with melancholy dignity clawing through the water to recover a -slippery and active piece of soap. - -He was lulled to dreaming by the caressing warmth. The light fell on the inner -surface of the tub in a pattern of delicate wrinkled lines which slipped with -a green sparkle over the curving porcelain as the clear water trembled. -Babbitt lazily watched it; noted that along the silhouette of his legs against -the radiance on the bottom of the tub, the shadows of the air-bubbles clinging -to the hairs were reproduced as strange jungle mosses. He patted the water, -and the reflected light capsized and leaped and volleyed. He was content and -childish. He played. He shaved a swath down the calf of one plump leg. - -The drain-pipe was dripping, a dulcet and lively song: drippety drip drip -dribble, drippety drip drip drip. He was enchanted by it. He looked at the -solid tub, the beautiful nickel taps, the tiled walls of the room, and felt -virtuous in the possession of this splendor. - -He roused himself and spoke gruffly to his bath-things. "Come here! You've -done enough fooling!" he reproved the treacherous soap, and defied the -scratchy nail-brush with "Oh, you would, would you!" He soaped himself, and -rinsed himself, and austerely rubbed himself; he noted a hole in the Turkish -towel, and meditatively thrust a finger through it, and marched back to the -bedroom, a grave and unbending citizen. - -There was a moment of gorgeous abandon, a flash of melodrama such as he found -in traffic-driving, when he laid out a clean collar, discovered that it was -frayed in front, and tore it up with a magnificent yeeeeeing sound. - -Most important of all was the preparation of his bed and the sleeping-porch. - -It is not known whether he enjoyed his sleeping-porch because of the fresh air -or because it was the standard thing to have a sleeping-porch. - -Just as he was an Elk, a Booster, and a member of the Chamber of Commerce, -just as the priests of the Presbyterian Church determined his every religious -belief and the senators who controlled the Republican Party decided in little -smoky rooms in Washington what he should think about disarmament, tariff, and -Germany, so did the large national advertisers fix the surface of his life, -fix what he believed to be his individuality. These standard advertised -wares--toothpastes, socks, tires, cameras, instantaneous hot-water -heaters--were his symbols and proofs of excellence; at first the signs, then -the substitutes, for joy and passion and wisdom. - -But none of these advertised tokens of financial and social success was more -significant than a sleeping-porch with a sun-parlor below. - -The rites of preparing for bed were elaborate and unchanging. The blankets had -to be tucked in at the foot of his cot. (Also, the reason why the maid hadn't -tucked in the blankets had to be discussed with Mrs. Babbitt.) The rag rug was -adjusted so that his bare feet would strike it when he arose in the morning. -The alarm clock was wound. The hot-water bottle was filled and placed -precisely two feet from the bottom of the cot. - -These tremendous undertakings yielded to his determination; one by one they -were announced to Mrs. Babbitt and smashed through to accomplishment. At last -his brow cleared, and in his "Gnight!" rang virile power. But there was yet -need of courage. As he sank into sleep, just at the first exquisite -relaxation, the Doppelbrau car came home. He bounced into wakefulness, -lamenting, "Why the devil can't some people never get to bed at a reasonable -hour?" So familiar was he with the process of putting up his own car that he -awaited each step like an able executioner condemned to his own rack. - -The car insultingly cheerful on the driveway. The car door opened and banged -shut, then the garage door slid open, grating on the sill, and the car door -again. The motor raced for the climb up into the garage and raced once more, -explosively, before it was shut off. A final opening and slamming of the car -door. Silence then, a horrible silence filled with waiting, till the -leisurely Mr. Doppelbrau had examined the state of his tires and had at last -shut the garage door. Instantly, for Babbitt, a blessed state of oblivion. - - -IV - -At that moment In the city of Zenith, Horace Updike was making love to Lucile -McKelvey in her mauve drawing-room on Royal Ridge, after their return from a -lecture by an eminent English novelist. Updike was Zenith's professional -bachelor; a slim-waisted man of forty-six with an effeminate voice and taste -in flowers, cretonnes, and flappers. Mrs. McKelvey was red-haired, creamy, -discontented, exquisite, rude, and honest. Updike tried his invariable first -maneuver--touching her nervous wrist. - -"Don't be an idiot!" she said. - -"Do you mind awfully?" - -"No! That's what I mind!" - -He changed to conversation. He was famous at conversation. He spoke -reasonably of psychoanalysis, Long Island polo, and the Ming platter he had -found in Vancouver. She promised to meet him in Deauville, the coming summer, -"though," she sighed, "it's becoming too dreadfully banal; nothing but -Americans and frowsy English baronesses." - -And at that moment in Zenith, a cocaine-runner and a prostitute were drinking -cocktails in Healey Hanson's saloon on Front Street. Since national -prohibition was now in force, and since Zenith was notoriously law-abiding, -they were compelled to keep the cocktails innocent by drinking them out of -tea-cups. The lady threw her cup at the cocaine-runner's head. He worked his -revolver out of the pocket in his sleeve, and casually murdered her. - -At that moment in Zenith, two men sat in a laboratory. For thirty-seven hours -now they had been working on a report of their investigations of synthetic -rubber. - -At that moment in Zenith, there was a conference of four union officials as to -whether the twelve thousand coal-miners within a hundred miles of the city -should strike. Of these men one resembled a testy and prosperous grocer, one -a Yankee carpenter, one a soda-clerk, and one a Russian Jewish actor The -Russian Jew quoted Kautsky, Gene Debs, and Abraham Lincoln. - -At that moment a G. A. R. veteran was dying. He had come from the Civil War -straight to a farm which, though it was officially within the city-limits of -Zenith, was primitive as the backwoods. He had never ridden in a motor car, -never seen a bath-tub, never read any book save the Bible, McGuffey's readers, -and religious tracts; and he believed that the earth is flat, that the English -are the Lost Ten Tribes of Israel, and that the United States is a democracy. - -At that moment the steel and cement town which composed the factory of the -Pullmore Tractor Company of Zenith was running on night shift to fill an order -of tractors for the Polish army. It hummed like a million bees, glared -through its wide windows like a volcano. Along the high wire fences, -searchlights played on cinder-lined yards, switch-tracks, and armed guards on -patrol. - -At that moment Mike Monday was finishing a meeting. Mr. Monday, the -distinguished evangelist, the best-known Protestant pontiff in America, had -once been a prize-fighter. Satan had not dealt justly with him. As a -prize-fighter he gained nothing but his crooked nose, his celebrated -vocabulary, and his stage-presence. The service of the Lord had been more -profitable. He was about to retire with a fortune. It had been well earned, -for, to quote his last report, "Rev. Mr. Monday, the Prophet with a Punch, has -shown that he is the world's greatest salesman of salvation, and that by -efficient organization the overhead of spiritual regeneration may be kept down -to an unprecedented rock-bottom basis. He has converted over two hundred -thousand lost and priceless souls at an average cost of less than ten dollars -a head." - -Of the larger cities of the land, only Zenith had hesitated to submit its -vices to Mike Monday and his expert reclamation corps. The more enterprising -organizations of the city had voted to invite him--Mr. George F. Babbitt had -once praised him in a speech at the Boosters' Club. But there was opposition -from certain Episcopalian and Congregationalist ministers, those renegades -whom Mr. Monday so finely called "a bunch of gospel-pushers with dish-water -instead of blood, a gang of squealers that need more dust on the knees of -their pants and more hair on their skinny old chests." This opposition had -been crushed when the secretary of the Chamber of Commerce had reported to a -committee of manufacturers that in every city where he had appeared, Mr. -Monday had turned the minds of workmen from wages and hours to higher things, -and thus averted strikes. He was immediately invited. - -An expense fund of forty thousand dollars had been underwritten; out on the -County Fair Grounds a Mike Monday Tabernacle had been erected, to seat fifteen -thousand people. In it the prophet was at this moment concluding his message: - -"There's a lot of smart college professors and tea-guzzling slobs in this burg -that say I'm a roughneck and a never-wuzzer and my knowledge of history is -not-yet. Oh, there's a gang of woolly-whiskered book-lice that think they know -more than Almighty God, and prefer a lot of Hun science and smutty German -criticism to the straight and simple Word of God. Oh, there's a swell bunch -of Lizzie boys and lemon-suckers and pie-faces and infidels and beer-bloated -scribblers that love to fire off their filthy mouths and yip that Mike Monday -is vulgar and full of mush. Those pups are saying now that I hog the -gospel-show, that I'm in it for the coin. Well, now listen, folks! I'm going -to give those birds a chance! They can stand right up here and tell me to my -face that I'm a galoot and a liar and a hick! Only if they do--if they -do!--don't faint with surprise if some of those rum-dumm liars get one good -swift poke from Mike, with all the kick of God's Flaming Righteousness behind -the wallop! Well, come on, folks! Who says it? Who says Mike Monday is a -fourflush and a yahoo? Huh? Don't I see anybody standing up? Well, there -you are! Now I guess the folks in this man's town will quit listening to all -this kyoodling from behind the fence; I guess you'll quit listening to the -guys that pan and roast and kick and beef, and vomit out filthy atheism; and -all of you 'll come in, with every grain of pep and reverence you got, and -boost all together for Jesus Christ and his everlasting mercy and tenderness!" - -At that moment Seneca Doane, the radical lawyer, and Dr. Kurt Yavitch, the -histologist (whose report on the destruction of epithelial cells under radium -had made the name of Zenith known in Munich, Prague, and Rome), were talking -in Doane's library. - -"Zenith's a city with gigantic power--gigantic buildings, gigantic machines, -gigantic transportation," meditated Doane. - -"I hate your city. It has standardized all the beauty out of life. It is one -big railroad station--with all the people taking tickets for the best -cemeteries," Dr. Yavitch said placidly. - -Doane roused. "I'm hanged if it is! You make me sick, Kurt, with your -perpetual whine about 'standardization.' Don't you suppose any other nation is -'standardized?' Is anything more standardized than England, with every house -that can afford it having the same muffins at the same tea-hour, and every -retired general going to exactly the same evensong at the same gray stone -church with a square tower, and every golfing prig in Harris tweeds saying -'Right you are!' to every other prosperous ass? Yet I love England. And for -standardization--just look at the sidewalk cafes in France and the love-making -in Italy! - -"Standardization is excellent, per se. When I buy an Ingersoll watch or a -Ford, I get a better tool for less money, and I know precisely what I'm -getting, and that leaves me more time and energy to be individual in. And--I -remember once in London I saw a picture of an American suburb, in a toothpaste -ad on the back of the Saturday Evening Post--an elm-lined snowy street of -these new houses, Georgian some of 'em, or with low raking roofs and--The kind -of street you'd find here in Zenith, say in Floral Heights. Open. Trees. -Grass. And I was homesick! There's no other country in the world that has -such pleasant houses. And I don't care if they ARE standardized. It's a -corking standard! - -"No, what I fight in Zenith is standardization of thought, and, of course, the -traditions of competition. The real villains of the piece are the clean, -kind, industrious Family Men who use every known brand of trickery and cruelty -to insure the prosperity of their cubs. The worst thing about these fellows is -that they're so good and, in their work at least, so intelligent. You can't -hate them properly, and yet their standardized minds are the enemy. - -"Then this boosting--Sneakingly I have a notion that Zenith is a better place -to live in than Manchester or Glasgow or Lyons or Berlin or Turin--" - -"It is not, and I have lift in most of them," murmured Dr. Yavitch. - -"Well, matter of taste. Personally, I prefer a city with a future so unknown -that it excites my imagination. But what I particularly want--" - -"You," said Dr. Yavitch, "are a middle-road liberal, and you haven't the -slightest idea what you want. I, being a revolutionist, know exactly what I -want--and what I want now is a drink." - - -VI - -At that moment in Zenith, Jake Offutt, the politician, and Henry T. Thompson -were in conference. Offutt suggested, "The thing to do is to get your fool -son-in-law, Babbitt, to put it over. He's one of these patriotic guys. When -he grabs a piece of property for the gang, he makes it look like we were dyin' -of love for the dear peepul, and I do love to buy respectability--reasonable. -Wonder how long we can keep it up, Hank? We're safe as long as the good -little boys like George Babbitt and all the nice respectable labor-leaders -think you and me are rugged patriots. There's swell pickings for an honest -politician here, Hank: a whole city working to provide cigars and fried -chicken and dry martinis for us, and rallying to our banner with indignation, -oh, fierce indignation, whenever some squealer like this fellow Seneca Doane -comes along! Honest, Hank, a smart codger like me ought to be ashamed of -himself if he didn't milk cattle like them, when they come around mooing for -it! But the Traction gang can't get away with grand larceny like it used to. I -wonder when--Hank, I wish we could fix some way to run this fellow Seneca -Doane out of town. It's him or us!" - -At that moment in Zenith, three hundred and forty or fifty thousand Ordinary -People were asleep, a vast unpenetrated shadow. In the slum beyond the -railroad tracks, a young man who for six months had sought work turned on the -gas and killed himself and his wife. - -At that moment Lloyd Mallam, the poet, owner of the Hafiz Book Shop, was -finishing a rondeau to show how diverting was life amid the feuds of medieval -Florence, but how dull it was in so obvious a place as Zenith. - -And at that moment George F. Babbitt turned ponderously in bed--the last turn, -signifying that he'd had enough of this worried business of falling asleep and -was about it in earnest. - -Instantly he was in the magic dream. He was somewhere among unknown people -who laughed at him. He slipped away, ran down the paths of a midnight garden, -and at the gate the fairy child was waiting. Her dear and tranquil hand -caressed his cheek. He was gallant and wise and well-beloved; warm ivory were -her arms; and beyond perilous moors the brave sea glittered. - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -I - -THE great events of Babbitt's spring were the secret buying of real-estate -options in Linton for certain street-traction officials, before the public -announcement that the Linton Avenue Car Line would be extended, and a dinner -which was, as he rejoiced to his wife, not only "a regular society spread but -a real sure-enough highbrow affair, with some of the keenest intellects and -the brightest bunch of little women in town." It was so absorbing an occasion -that he almost forgot his desire to run off to Maine with Paul Riesling. - -Though he had been born in the village of Catawba, Babbitt had risen to that -metropolitan social plane on which hosts have as many as four people at dinner -without planning it for more than an evening or two. But a dinner of twelve, -with flowers from the florist's and all the cut-glass out, staggered even the -Babbitts. - -For two weeks they studied, debated, and arbitrated the list of guests. - -Babbitt marveled, "Of course we're up-to-date ourselves, but still, think of -us entertaining a famous poet like Chum Frink, a fellow that on nothing but a -poem or so every day and just writing a few advertisements pulls down fifteen -thousand berries a year!" - -"Yes, and Howard Littlefield. Do you know, the other evening Eunice told me -her papa speaks three languages!" said Mrs. Babbitt. - -"Huh! That's nothing! So do I--American, baseball, and poker!" - -"I don't think it's nice to be funny about a matter like that. Think how -wonderful it must be to speak three languages, and so useful and--And with -people like that, I don't see why we invite the Orville Joneses." - -"Well now, Orville is a mighty up-and-coming fellow!" - -"Yes, I know, but--A laundry!" - -"I'll admit a laundry hasn't got the class of poetry or real estate, but just -the same, Orvy is mighty deep. Ever start him spieling about gardening? Say, -that fellow can tell you the name of every kind of tree, and some of their -Greek and Latin names too! Besides, we owe the Joneses a dinner. Besides, -gosh, we got to have some boob for audience, when a bunch of hot-air artists -like Frink and Littlefield get going." - -"Well, dear--I meant to speak of this--I do think that as host you ought to -sit back and listen, and let your guests have a chance to talk once in a -while!" - -"Oh, you do, do you! Sure! I talk all the time! And I'm just a business -man--oh sure!--I'm no Ph.D. Iike Littlefield, and no poet, and I haven't -anything to spring! Well, let me tell you, just the other day your darn Chum -Frink comes up to me at the club begging to know what I thought about the -Springfield school-bond issue. And who told him? I did! You bet your life I -told him! Little me! I certainly did! He came up and asked me, and I told -him all about it! You bet! And he was darn glad to listen to me and--Duty as -a host! I guess I know my duty as a host and let me tell you--" - -In fact, the Orville Joneses were invited. - - -II - -On the morning of the dinner, Mrs. Babbitt was restive. - -"Now, George, I want you to be sure and be home early tonight. Remember, you -have to dress." - -"Uh-huh. I see by the Advocate that the Presbyterian General Assembly has -voted to quit the Interchurch World Movement. That--" - -"George! Did you hear what I said? You must be home in time to dress -to-night." - -"Dress? Hell! I'm dressed now! Think I'm going down to the office in my -B.V.D.'s?" - -"I will not have you talking indecently before the children! And you do have -to put on your dinner-jacket!" - -"I guess you mean my Tux. I tell you, of all the doggone nonsensical -nuisances that was ever invented--" - -Three minutes later, after Babbitt had wailed, "Well, I don't know whether I'm -going to dress or NOT" in a manner which showed that he was going to dress, -the discussion moved on. - -"Now, George, you mustn't forget to call in at Vecchia's on the way home and -get the ice cream. Their delivery-wagon is broken down, and I don't want to -trust them to send it by--" - -"All right! You told me that before breakfast!" - -"Well, I don't want you to forget. I'll be working my head off all day long, -training the girl that's to help with the dinner--" - -"All nonsense, anyway, hiring an extra girl for the feed. Matilda could -perfectly well--" - -"--and I have to go out and buy the flowers, and fix them, and set the table, -and order the salted almonds, and look at the chickens, and arrange for the -children to have their supper upstairs and--And I simply must depend on you to -go to Vecchia's for the ice cream." - -"All riiiiiight! Gosh, I'm going to get it!" - -"All you have to do is to go in and say you want the ice cream that Mrs. -Babbitt ordered yesterday by 'phone, and it will be all ready for you." - -At ten-thirty she telephoned to him not to forget the ice cream from -Vecchia's. - -He was surprised and blasted then by a thought. He wondered whether Floral -Heights dinners were worth the hideous toil involved. But he repented the -sacrilege in the excitement of buying the materials for cocktails. - -Now this was the manner of obtaining alcohol under the reign of righteousness -and prohibition: - -He drove from the severe rectangular streets of the modern business center -into the tangled byways of Old Town--jagged blocks filled with sooty -warehouses and lofts; on into The Arbor, once a pleasant orchard but now a -morass of lodging-houses, tenements, and brothels. Exquisite shivers chilled -his spine and stomach, and he looked at every policeman with intense -innocence, as one who loved the law, and admired the Force, and longed to stop -and play with them. He parked his car a block from Healey Hanson's saloon, -worrying, "Well, rats, if anybody did see me, they'd think I was here on -business." - -He entered a place curiously like the saloons of ante-prohibition days, with a -long greasy bar with sawdust in front and streaky mirror behind, a pine table -at which a dirty old man dreamed over a glass of something which resembled -whisky, and with two men at the bar, drinking something which resembled beer, -and giving that impression of forming a large crowd which two men always give -in a saloon. The bartender, a tall pale Swede with a diamond in his lilac -scarf, stared at Babbitt as he stalked plumply up to the bar and whispered, -"I'd, uh--Friend of Hanson's sent me here. Like to get some gin." - -The bartender gazed down on him in the manner of an outraged bishop. "I guess -you got the wrong place, my friend. We sell nothing but soft drinks here." -He cleaned the bar with a rag which would itself have done with a little -cleaning, and glared across his mechanically moving elbow. - -The old dreamer at the table petitioned the bartender, "Say, Oscar, listen." - -Oscar did not listen. - -"Aw, say, Oscar, listen, will yuh? Say, lis-sen!" - -The decayed and drowsy voice of the loafer, the agreeable stink of beer-dregs, -threw a spell of inanition over Babbitt. The bartender moved grimly toward the -crowd of two men. Babbitt followed him as delicately as a cat, and wheedled, -"Say, Oscar, I want to speak to Mr. Hanson." - -"Whajuh wanta see him for?" - -"I just want to talk to him. Here's my card." - -It was a beautiful card, an engraved card, a card in the blackest black and -the sharpest red, announcing that Mr. George F. Babbitt was Estates, -Insurance, Rents. The bartender held it as though it weighed ten pounds, and -read it as though it were a hundred words long. He did not bend from his -episcopal dignity, hut he growled, "I'll see if he's around." - -From the back room he brought an immensely old young man, a quiet sharp-eyed -man, in tan silk shirt, checked vest hanging open, and burning brown -trousers--Mr. Healey Hanson. Mr. Hanson said only "Yuh?" but his implacable -and contemptuous eyes queried Babbitt's soul, and he seemed not at all -impressed by the new dark-gray suit for which (as he had admitted to every -acquaintance at the Athletic Club) Babbitt had paid a hundred and twenty-five -dollars. - -"Glad meet you, Mr. Hanson. Say, uh--I'm George Babbitt of the -Babbitt-Thompson Realty Company. I'm a great friend of Jake Offutt's." - -"Well, what of it?" - -"Say, uh, I'm going to have a party, and Jake told me you'd be able to fix me -up with a little gin." In alarm, in obsequiousness, as Hanson's eyes grew -more bored, "You telephone to Jake about me, if you want to." - -Hanson answered by jerking his head to indicate the entrance to the back room, -and strolled away. Babbitt melodramatically crept into an apartment -containing four round tables, eleven chairs, a brewery calendar, and a smell. -He waited. Thrice he saw Healey Hanson saunter through, humming, hands in -pockets, ignoring him. - -By this time Babbitt had modified his valiant morning vow, "I won't pay one -cent over seven dollars a quart" to "I might pay ten." On Hanson's next weary -entrance he besought "Could you fix that up?" Hanson scowled, and grated, -"Just a minute--Pete's sake--just a min-ute!" In growing meekness Babbitt went -on waiting till Hanson casually reappeared with a quart of gin--what is -euphemistically known as a quart--in his disdainful long white hands. - -"Twelve bucks," he snapped. - -"Say, uh, but say, cap'n, Jake thought you'd be able to fix me up for eight or -nine a bottle." - -"Nup. Twelve. This is the real stuff, smuggled from Canada. This is none o' -your neutral spirits with a drop of juniper extract," the honest merchant said -virtuously. "Twelve bones--if you want it. Course y' understand I'm just -doing this anyway as a friend of Jake's." - -"Sure! Sure! I understand!" Babbitt gratefully held out twelve dollars. He -felt honored by contact with greatness as Hanson yawned, stuffed the bills, -uncounted, into his radiant vest, and swaggered away. - -He had a number of titillations out of concealing the gin-bottle under his -coat and out of hiding it in his desk. All afternoon he snorted and chuckled -and gurgled over his ability to "give the Boys a real shot in the arm -to-night." He was, in fact, so exhilarated that he was within a block of his -house before he remembered that there was a certain matter, mentioned by his -wife, of fetching ice cream from Vecchia's. He explained, "Well, darn it--" -and drove back. - -Vecchia was not a caterer, he was The Caterer of Zenith. Most coming-out -parties were held in the white and gold ballroom of the Maison Vecchia; at all -nice teas the guests recognized the five kinds of Vecchia sandwiches and the -seven kinds of Vecchia cakes; and all really smart dinners ended, as on a -resolving chord, in Vecchia Neapolitan ice cream in one of the three reliable -molds--the melon mold, the round mold like a layer cake, and the long brick. - -Vecchia's shop had pale blue woodwork, tracery of plaster roses, attendants in -frilled aprons, and glass shelves of "kisses" with all the refinement that -inheres in whites of eggs. Babbitt felt heavy and thick amid this professional -daintiness, and as he waited for the ice cream he decided, with hot prickles -at the back of his neck, that a girl customer was giggling at him. He went -home in a touchy temper. The first thing he heard was his wife's agitated: - -"George! DID you remember to go to Vecchia's and get the ice cream?" - -"Say! Look here! Do I ever forget to do things?" - -"Yes! Often!" - -"Well now, it's darn seldom I do, and it certainly makes me tired, after going -into a pink-tea joint like Vecchia's and having to stand around looking at a -lot of half-naked young girls, all rouged up like they were sixty and eating a -lot of stuff that simply ruins their stomachs--" - -"Oh, it's too bad about you! I've noticed how you hate to look at pretty -girls!" - -With a jar Babbitt realized that his wife was too busy to be impressed by that -moral indignation with which males rule the world, and he went humbly -up-stairs to dress. He had an impression of a glorified dining-room, of -cut-glass, candles, polished wood, lace, silver, roses. With the awed -swelling of the heart suitable to so grave a business as giving a dinner, he -slew the temptation to wear his plaited dress-shirt for a fourth time, took -out an entirely fresh one, tightened his black bow, and rubbed his -patent-leather pumps with a handkerchief. He glanced with pleasure at his -garnet and silver studs. He smoothed and patted his ankles, transformed by -silk socks from the sturdy shanks of George Babbitt to the elegant limbs of -what is called a Clubman. He stood before the pier-glass, viewing his trim -dinner-coat, his beautiful triple-braided trousers; and murmured in lyric -beatitude, "By golly, I don't look so bad. I certainly don't look like -Catawba. If the hicks back home could see me in this rig, they'd have a fit!" - -He moved majestically down to mix the cocktails. As he chipped ice, as he -squeezed oranges, as he collected vast stores of bottles, glasses, and spoons -at the sink in the pantry, he felt as authoritative as the bartender at Healey -Hanson's saloon. True, Mrs. Babbitt said he was under foot, and Matilda and -the maid hired for the evening brushed by him, elbowed him, shrieked "Pleasopn -door," as they tottered through with trays, but in this high moment he ignored -them. - -Besides the new bottle of gin, his cellar consisted of one half-bottle of -Bourbon whisky, a quarter of a bottle of Italian vermouth, and approximately -one hundred drops of orange bitters. He did not possess a cocktail-shaker. A -shaker was proof of dissipation, the symbol of a Drinker, and Babbitt disliked -being known as a Drinker even more than he liked a Drink. He mixed by pouring -from an ancient gravy-boat into a handleless pitcher; he poured with a noble -dignity, holding his alembics high beneath the powerful Mazda globe, his face -hot, his shirt-front a glaring white, the copper sink a scoured red-gold. - -He tasted the sacred essence. "Now, by golly, if that isn't pretty near one -fine old cocktail! Kind of a Bronx, and yet like a Manhattan. Ummmmmm! Hey, -Myra, want a little nip before the folks come?" - -Bustling into the dining-room, moving each glass a quarter of an inch, rushing -back with resolution implacable on her face her gray and silver-lace party -frock protected by a denim towel, Mrs. Babbitt glared at him, and rebuked him, -"Certainly not!" - -"Well," in a loose, jocose manner, "I think the old man will!" - -The cocktail filled him with a whirling exhilaration behind which he was aware -of devastating desires--to rush places in fast motors, to kiss girls, to sing, -to be witty. He sought to regain his lost dignity by announcing to Matilda: - -"I'm going to stick this pitcher of cocktails in the refrigerator. Be sure you -don't upset any of 'em." - -"Yeh." - -"Well, be sure now. Don't go putting anything on this top shelf." - -"Yeh." - -"Well, be--" He was dizzy. His voice was thin and distant. "Whee!" With -enormous impressiveness he commanded, "Well, be sure now," and minced into the -safety of the living-room. He wondered whether he could persuade "as slow a -bunch as Myra and the Littlefields to go some place aft' dinner and raise Cain -and maybe dig up smore booze." He perceived that he had gifts of profligacy -which had been neglected. - -By the time the guests had come, including the inevitable late couple for whom -the others waited with painful amiability, a great gray emptiness had replaced -the purple swirling in Babbitt's head, and he had to force the tumultuous -greetings suitable to a host on Floral Heights. - -The guests were Howard Littlefield, the doctor of philosophy who furnished -publicity and comforting economics to the Street Traction Company; Vergil -Gunch, the coal-dealer, equally powerful in the Elks and in the Boosters' -Club; Eddie Swanson the agent for the Javelin Motor Car, who lived across the -street; and Orville Jones, owner of the Lily White Laundry, which justly -announced itself "the biggest, busiest, bulliest cleanerie shoppe in Zenith." -But, naturally, the most distinguished of all was T. Cholmondeley Frink, who -was not only the author of "Poemulations," which, syndicated daily in -sixty-seven leading newspapers, gave him one of the largest audiences of any -poet in the world, but also an optimistic lecturer and the creator of "Ads -that Add." Despite the searching philosophy and high morality of his verses, -they were humorous and easily understood by any child of twelve; and it added -a neat air of pleasantry to them that they were set not as verse but as prose. -Mr. Frink was known from Coast to Coast as "Chum." - -With them were six wives, more or less--it was hard to tell, so early in the -evening, as at first glance they all looked alike, and as they all said, "Oh, -ISN'T this nice!" in the same tone of determined liveliness. To the eye, the -men were less similar: Littlefield, a hedge-scholar, tall and horse-faced; -Chum Frink, a trifle of a man with soft and mouse-like hair, advertising his -profession as poet by a silk cord on his eye-glasses; Vergil Gunch, broad, -with coarse black hair en brosse; Eddie Swanson, a bald and bouncing young man -who showed his taste for elegance by an evening waistcoat of figured black -silk with glass buttons; Orville Jones, a steady-looking, stubby, not very -memorable person, with a hemp-colored toothbrush mustache. Yet they were all -so well fed and clean, they all shouted "'Evenin', Georgie!" with such -robustness, that they seemed to be cousins, and the strange thing is that the -longer one knew the women, the less alike they seemed; while the longer one -knew the men, the more alike their bold patterns appeared. - -The drinking of the cocktails was as canonical a rite as the mixing. The -company waited, uneasily, hopefully, agreeing in a strained manner that the -weather had been rather warm and slightly cold, but still Babbitt said nothing -about drinks. They became despondent. But when the late couple (the Swansons) -had arrived, Babbitt hinted, "Well, folks, do you think you could stand -breaking the law a little?" - -They looked at Chum Frink, the recognized lord of language. Frink pulled at -his eye-glass cord as at a bell-rope, he cleared his throat and said that -which was the custom: - -"I'll tell you, George: I'm a law-abiding man, but they do say Verg Gunch is -a regular yegg, and of course he's bigger 'n I am, and I just can't figure out -what I'd do if he tried to force me into anything criminal!" - -Gunch was roaring, "Well, I'll take a chance--" when Frink held up his hand -and went on, "So if Verg and you insist, Georgie, I'll park my car on the -wrong side of the street, because I take it for granted that's the crime -you're hinting at!" - -There was a great deal of laughter. Mrs. Jones asserted, "Mr. Frink is simply -too killing! You'd think he was so innocent!" - -Babbitt clamored, "How did you guess it, Chum? Well, you-all just wait a -moment while I go out and get the--keys to your cars!" Through a froth of -merriment he brought the shining promise, the mighty tray of glasses with the -cloudy yellow cocktails in the glass pitcher in the center. The men babbled, -"Oh, gosh, have a look!" and "This gets me right where I live!" and "Let me at -it!" But Chum Frink, a traveled man and not unused to woes, was stricken by -the thought that the potion might be merely fruit-juice with a little neutral -spirits. He looked timorous as Babbitt, a moist and ecstatic almoner, held -out a glass, but as he tasted it he piped, "Oh, man, let me dream on! It ain't -true, but don't waken me! Jus' lemme slumber!" - -Two hours before, Frink had completed a newspaper lyric beginning: - -"I sat alone and groused and thunk, and scratched my head and sighed and wunk, -and groaned, "There still are boobs, alack, who'd like the old-time gin-mill -back; that den that makes a sage a loon, the vile and smelly old saloon!" I'll -never miss their poison booze, whilst I the bubbling spring can use, that -leaves my head at merry morn as clear as any babe new-born!" - -Babbitt drank with the others; his moment's depression was gone; he perceived -that these were the best fellows in the world; he wanted to give them a -thousand cocktails. "Think you could stand another?" he cried. The wives -refused, with giggles, but the men, speaking in a wide, elaborate, enjoyable -manner, gloated, "Well, sooner than have you get sore at me, Georgie--" - -"You got a little dividend coming," said Babbitt to each of them, and each -intoned, "Squeeze it, Georgie, squeeze it!" - -When, beyond hope, the pitcher was empty, they stood and talked about -prohibition. The men leaned back on their heels, put their hands in their -trousers-pockets, and proclaimed their views with the booming profundity of a -prosperous male repeating a thoroughly hackneyed statement about a matter of -which he knows nothing whatever. - -"Now, I'll tell you," said Vergil Gunch; "way I figure it is this, and I can -speak by the book, because I've talked to a lot of doctors and fellows that -ought to know, and the way I see it is that it's a good thing to get rid of -the saloon, but they ought to let a fellow have beer and light wines." - -Howard Littlefield observed, "What isn't generally realized is that it's a -dangerous prop'sition to invade the rights of personal liberty. Now, take this -for instance: The King of--Bavaria? I think it was Bavaria--yes, Bavaria, it -was--in 1862, March, 1862, he issued a proclamation against public grazing of -live-stock. The peasantry had stood for overtaxation without the slightest -complaint, but when this proclamation came out, they rebelled. Or it may have -been Saxony. But it just goes to show the dangers of invading the rights of -personal liberty." - -"That's it--no one got a right to invade personal liberty," said Orville -Jones. - -"Just the same, you don't want to forget prohibition is a mighty good thing -for the working-classes. Keeps 'em from wasting their money and lowering their -productiveness," said Vergil Gunch. - -"Yes, that's so. But the trouble is the manner of enforcement," insisted -Howard Littlefield. "Congress didn't understand the right system. Now, if -I'd been running the thing, I'd have arranged it so that the drinker himself -was licensed, and then we could have taken care of the shiftless workman--kept -him from drinking--and yet not 've interfered with the rights--with the -personal liberty--of fellows like ourselves." - -They bobbed their heads, looked admiringly at one another, and stated, "That's -so, that would be the stunt." - -"The thing that worries me is that a lot of these guys will take to cocaine," -sighed Eddie Swanson. - -They bobbed more violently, and groaned, "That's so, there is a danger of -that." - -Chum Frink chanted, "Oh, say, I got hold of a swell new receipt for home-made -beer the other day. You take--" - -Gunch interrupted, "Wait! Let me tell you mine!" Littlefield snorted, "Beer! -Rats! Thing to do is to ferment cider!" Jones insisted, "I've got the receipt -that does the business!" Swanson begged, "Oh, say, lemme tell you the story--" -But Frink went on resolutely, "You take and save the shells from peas, and -pour six gallons of water on a bushel of shells and boil the mixture till--" - -Mrs. Babbitt turned toward them with yearning sweetness; Frink hastened to -finish even his best beer-recipe; and she said gaily, "Dinner is served." - -There was a good deal of friendly argument among the men as to which should go -in last, and while they were crossing the hall from the living-room to the -dining-room Vergil Gunch made them laugh by thundering, "If I can't sit next -to Myra Babbitt and hold her hand under the table, I won't play--I'm goin' -home." In the dining-room they stood embarrassed while Mrs. Babbitt -fluttered, "Now, let me see--Oh, I was going to have some nice hand-painted -place-cards for you but--Oh, let me see; Mr. Frink, you sit there." - -The dinner was in the best style of women's-magazine art, whereby the salad -was served in hollowed apples, and everything but the invincible fried chicken -resembled something else. Ordinarily the men found it hard to talk to the -women; flirtation was an art unknown on Floral Heights, and the realms of -offices and of kitchens had no alliances. But under the inspiration of the -cocktails, conversation was violent. Each of the men still had a number of -important things to say about prohibition, and now that each had a loyal -listener in his dinner-partner he burst out: - -"I found a place where I can get all the hootch I want at eight a quart--" - -"Did you read about this fellow that went and paid a thousand dollars for ten -cases of red-eye that proved to be nothing but water? Seems this fellow was -standing on the corner and fellow comes up to him--" - -"They say there's a whole raft of stuff being smuggled across at Detroit--" - -"What I always say is--what a lot of folks don't realize about prohibition--" - -"And then you get all this awful poison stuff--wood alcohol and everything--" - -"Course I believe in it on principle, but I don't propose to have anybody -telling me what I got to think and do. No American 'll ever stand for that!" - -But they all felt that it was rather in bad taste for Orville Jones--and he -not recognized as one of the wits of the occasion anyway--to say, "In fact, -the whole thing about prohibition is this: it isn't the initial cost, it's the -humidity." - -Not till the one required topic had been dealt with did the conversation -become general. - -It was often and admiringly said of Vergil Gunch, "Gee, that fellow can get -away with murder! Why, he can pull a Raw One in mixed company and all the -ladies 'll laugh their heads off, but me, gosh, if I crack anything that's -just the least bit off color I get the razz for fair!" Now Gunch delighted -them by crying to Mrs. Eddie Swanson, youngest of the women, "Louetta! I -managed to pinch Eddie's doorkey out of his pocket, and what say you and me -sneak across the street when the folks aren't looking? Got something," with a -gorgeous leer, "awful important to tell you!" - -The women wriggled, and Babbitt was stirred to like naughtiness. "Say, folks, -I wished I dared show you a book I borrowed from Doc Patten!" - -"Now, George! The idea!" Mrs. Babbitt warned him. - -"This book--racy isn't the word! It's some kind of an anthropological report -about--about Customs, in the South Seas, and what it doesn't SAY! It's a book -you can't buy. Verg, I'll lend it to you." - -"Me first!" insisted Eddie Swanson. "Sounds spicy!" - -Orville Jones announced, "Say, I heard a Good One the other day about a coupla -Swedes and their wives," and, in the best Jewish accent, he resolutely carried -the Good One to a slightly disinfected ending. Gunch capped it. But the -cocktails waned, the seekers dropped back into cautious reality. - -Chum Frink had recently been on a lecture-tour among the small towns, and he -chuckled, "Awful good to get back to civilization! I certainly been seeing -some hick towns! I mean--Course the folks there are the best on earth, but, -gee whiz, those Main Street burgs are slow, and you fellows can't hardly -appreciate what it means to be here with a bunch of live ones!" - -"You bet!" exulted Orville Jones. "They're the best folks on earth, those -small-town folks, but, oh, mama! what conversation! Why, say, they can't talk -about anything but the weather and the ne-oo Ford, by heckalorum!" - -"That's right. They all talk about just the same things," said Eddie Swanson. - -"Don't they, though! They just say the same things over and over," said -Vergil Gunch. - -"Yes, it's really remarkable. They seem to lack all power of looking at -things impersonally. They simply go over and over the same talk about Fords -and the weather and so on." said Howard Littlefield. - -"Still, at that, you can't blame 'em. They haven't got any intellectual -stimulus such as you get up here in the city," said Chum Frink. - -"Gosh, that's right," said Babbitt. "I don't want you highbrows to get stuck -on yourselves but I must say it keeps a fellow right up on his toes to sit in -with a poet and with Howard, the guy that put the con in economics! But these -small-town boobs, with nobody but each other to talk to, no wonder they get so -sloppy and uncultured in their speech, and so balled-up in their thinking!" - -Orville Jones commented, "And, then take our other advantages--the movies, -frinstance. These Yapville sports think they're all-get-out if they have one -change of bill a week, where here in the city you got your choice of a dozen -diff'rent movies any evening you want to name!" - -"Sure, and the inspiration we get from rubbing up against high-class hustlers -every day and getting jam full of ginger," said Eddie Swanson. - -"Same time," said Babbitt, "no sense excusing these rube burgs too easy. -Fellow's own fault if he doesn't show the initiative to up and beat it to the -city, like we done--did. And, just speaking in confidence among friends, -they're jealous as the devil of a city man. Every time I go up to Catawba I -have to go around apologizing to the fellows I was brought up with because -I've more or less succeeded and they haven't. And if you talk natural to 'em, -way we do here, and show finesse and what you might call a broad point of -view, why, they think you're putting on side. There's my own half-brother -Martin--runs the little ole general store my Dad used to keep. Say, I'll bet -he don't know there is such a thing as a Tux--as a dinner-jacket. If he was to -come in here now, he'd think we were a bunch of--of--Why, gosh, I swear, he -wouldn't know what to think! Yes, sir, they're jealous!" - -Chum Frink agreed, "That's so. But what I mind is their lack of culture and -appreciation of the Beautiful--if you'll excuse me for being highbrow. Now, I -like to give a high-class lecture, and read some of my best poetry--not the -newspaper stuff but the magazine things. But say, when I get out in the tall -grass, there's nothing will take but a lot of cheesy old stories and slang and -junk that if any of us were to indulge in it here, he'd get the gate so fast -it would make his head swim." - -Vergil Gunch summed it up: "Fact is, we're mighty lucky to be living among a -bunch of city-folks, that recognize artistic things and business-punch -equally. We'd feel pretty glum if we got stuck in some Main Street burg and -tried to wise up the old codgers to the kind of life we're used to here. But, -by golly, there's this you got to say for 'em: Every small American town is -trying to get population and modern ideals. And darn if a lot of 'em don't put -it across! Somebody starts panning a rube crossroads, telling how he was -there in 1900 and it consisted of one muddy street, count 'em, one, and nine -hundred human clams. Well, you go back there in 1920, and you find pavements -and a swell little hotel and a first-class ladies' ready-to-wear shop-real -perfection, in fact! You don't want to just look at what these small towns -are, you want to look at what they're aiming to become, and they all got an -ambition that in the long run is going to make 'em the finest spots on -earth--they all want to be just like Zenith!" - - -III - -However intimate they might be with T. Cholmondeley Frink as a neighbor, as a -borrower of lawn-mowers and monkey-wrenches, they knew that he was also a -Famous Poet and a distinguished advertising-agent; that behind his easiness -were sultry literary mysteries which they could not penetrate. But to-night, -in the gin-evolved confidence, he admitted them to the arcanum: - -"I've got a literary problem that's worrying me to death. I'm doing a series -of ads for the Zeeco Car and I want to make each of 'em a real little -gem--reg'lar stylistic stuff. I'm all for this theory that perfection is the -stunt, or nothing at all, and these are as tough things as I ever tackled. You -might think it'd be harder to do my poems--all these Heart Topics: home and -fireside and happiness--but they're cinches. You can't go wrong on 'em; you -know what sentiments any decent go-ahead fellow must have if he plays the -game, and you stick right to 'em. But the poetry of industrialism, now -there's a literary line where you got to open up new territory. Do you know -the fellow who's really THE American genius? The fellow who you don't know his -name and I don't either, but his work ought to be preserved so's future -generations can judge our American thought and originality to-day? Why, the -fellow that writes the Prince Albert Tobacco ads! Just listen to this: - -It's P.A. that jams such joy in jimmy pipes. Say--bet you've often -bent-an-ear to that spill-of-speech about hopping from five to f-i-f-t-y p-e-r -by "stepping on her a bit!" Guess that's going some, all right--BUT just among -ourselves, you better start a rapidwhiz system to keep tabs as to how fast -you'll buzz from low smoke spirits to TIP-TOP-HIGH--once you line up behind a -jimmy pipe that's all aglow with that peach-of-a-pal, Prince Albert. - -Prince Albert is john-on-the-job--always joy'usly more-ISH in flavor; always -delightfully cool and fragrant! For a fact, you never hooked such -double-decked, copper-riveted. two-fisted smoke enjoyment! - -Go to a pipe--speed-o-quick like you light on a good thing! Why--packed with -Prince Albert you can play a joy'us jimmy straight across the boards! AND YOU -KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS!" - - -"Now that," caroled the motor agent, Eddie Swanson, "that's what I call -he-literature! That Prince Albert fellow--though, gosh, there can't be just -one fellow that writes 'em; must be a big board of classy ink-slingers in -conference, but anyway: now, him, he doesn't write for long-haired pikers, he -writes for Regular Guys, he writes for ME, and I tip my benny to him! The -only thing is: I wonder if it sells the goods? Course, like all these poets, -this Prince Albert fellow lets his idea run away with him. It makes elegant -reading, but it don't say nothing. I'd never go out and buy Prince Albert -Tobacco after reading it, because it doesn't tell me anything about the stuff. -It's just a bunch of fluff." - -Frink faced him: "Oh, you're crazy! Have I got to sell you the idea of -Style? Anyway that's the kind of stuff I'd like to do for the Zeeco. But I -simply can't. So I decided to stick to the straight poetic, and I took a shot -at a highbrow ad for the Zeeco. How do you like this: - -The long white trail is calling--calling-and it's over the hills and far away -for every man or woman that has red blood in his veins and on his lips the -ancient song of the buccaneers. It's away with dull drudging, and a fig for -care. Speed--glorious Speed--it's more than just a moment's exhilaration--it's -Life for you and me! This great new truth the makers of the Zeeco Car have -considered as much as price and style. It's fleet as the antelope, smooth as -the glide of a swallow, yet powerful as the charge of a bull-elephant. Class -breathes in every line. Listen, brother! You'll never know what the high art -of hiking is till you TRY LIFE'S ZIPPINGEST ZEST--THE ZEECO! - - -"Yes," Frink mused, "that's got an elegant color to it, if I do say so, but it -ain't got the originality of 'spill-of-speech!'" The whole company sighed with -sympathy and admiration. - - - -CHAPTER IX - -I - -BABBITT was fond of his friends, he loved the importance of being host and -shouting, "Certainly, you're going to have smore chicken--the idea!" and he -appreciated the genius of T. Cholmondeley Frink, but the vigor of the -cocktails was gone, and the more he ate the less joyful he felt. Then the -amity of the dinner was destroyed by the nagging of the Swansons. - -In Floral Heights and the other prosperous sections of Zenith, especially in -the "young married set," there were many women who had nothing to do. Though -they had few servants, yet with gas stoves, electric ranges and dish-washers -and vacuum cleaners, and tiled kitchen walls, their houses were so convenient -that they had little housework, and much of their food came from bakeries and -delicatessens. They had but two, one, or no children; and despite the myth -that the Great War had made work respectable, their husbands objected to their -"wasting time and getting a lot of crank ideas" in unpaid social work, and -still more to their causing a rumor, by earning money, that they were not -adequately supported. They worked perhaps two hours a day, and the rest of the -time they ate chocolates, went to the motion-pictures, went window-shopping, -went in gossiping twos and threes to card-parties, read magazines, thought -timorously of the lovers who never appeared, and accumulated a splendid -restlessness which they got rid of by nagging their husbands. The husbands -nagged back. - -Of these naggers the Swansons were perfect specimens. - -Throughout the dinner Eddie Swanson had been complaining, publicly, about his -wife's new frock. It was, he submitted, too short, too low, too immodestly -thin, and much too expensive. He appealed to Babbitt: - -"Honest, George, what do you think of that rag Louetta went and bought? Don't -you think it's the limit?" - -"What's eating you, Eddie? I call it a swell little dress." - -"Oh, it is, Mr. Swanson. It's a sweet frock," Mrs. Babbitt protested. - -"There now, do you see, smarty! You're such an authority on clothes!" Louetta -raged, while the guests ruminated and peeped at her shoulders. - -"That's all right now," said Swanson. "I'm authority enough so I know it was -a waste of money, and it makes me tired to see you not wearing out a whole -closetful of clothes you got already. I've expressed my idea about this -before, and you know good and well you didn't pay the least bit of attention. -I have to camp on your trail to get you to do anything--" - -There was much more of it, and they all assisted, all but Babbitt. Everything -about him was dim except his stomach, and that was a bright scarlet -disturbance. "Had too much grub; oughtn't to eat this stuff," he -groaned--while he went on eating, while he gulped down a chill and glutinous -slice of the ice-cream brick, and cocoanut cake as oozy as shaving-cream. He -felt as though he had been stuffed with clay; his body was bursting, his -throat was bursting, his brain was hot mud; and only with agony did he -continue to smile and shout as became a host on Floral Heights. - -He would, except for his guests, have fled outdoors and walked off the -intoxication of food, but in the haze which filled the room they sat forever, -talking, talking, while he agonized, "Darn fool to be eating all this--not -'nother mouthful," and discovered that he was again tasting the sickly welter -of melted ice cream on his plate. There was no magic in his friends; he was -not uplifted when Howard Littlefield produced from his treasure-house of -scholarship the information that the chemical symbol for raw rubber is C10H16, -which turns into isoprene, or 2C5H8. Suddenly, without precedent, Babbitt was -not merely bored but admitting that he was bored. It was ecstasy to escape -from the table, from the torture of a straight chair, and loll on the -davenport in the living-room. - -The others, from their fitful unconvincing talk, their expressions of being -slowly and painfully smothered, seemed to be suffering from the toil of social -life and the horror of good food as much as himself. All of them accepted with -relief the suggestion of bridge. - -Babbitt recovered from the feeling of being boiled. He won at bridge. He was -again able to endure Vergil Gunch's inexorable heartiness. But he pictured -loafing with Paul Riesling beside a lake in Maine. It was as overpowering and -imaginative as homesickness. He had never seen Maine, yet he beheld the -shrouded mountains, the tranquil lake of evening. "That boy Paul's worth all -these ballyhooing highbrows put together," he muttered; and, "I'd like to get -away from--everything." - -Even Louetta Swanson did not rouse him. - -Mrs. Swanson was pretty and pliant. Babbitt was not an analyst of women, -except as to their tastes in Furnished Houses to Rent. He divided them into -Real Ladies, Working Women, Old Cranks, and Fly Chickens. He mooned over their -charms but he was of opinion that all of them (save the women of his own -family) were "different" and "mysterious." Yet he had known by instinct that -Louetta Swanson could be approached. Her eyes and lips were moist. Her face -tapered from a broad forehead to a pointed chin, her mouth was thin but strong -and avid, and between her brows were two outcurving and passionate wrinkles. -She was thirty, perhaps, or younger. Gossip had never touched her, but every -man naturally and instantly rose to flirtatiousness when he spoke to her, and -every woman watched her with stilled blankness. - -Between games, sitting on the davenport, Babbitt spoke to her with the -requisite gallantry, that sonorous Floral Heights gallantry which is not -flirtation but a terrified flight from it: "You're looking like a new -soda-fountain to night, Louetta." - -"Am I?" - -"Ole Eddie kind of on the rampage." - -"Yes. I get so sick of it." - -"Well, when you get tired of hubby, you can run off with Uncle George." - -"If I ran away--Oh, well--" - -"Anybody ever tell you your hands are awful pretty?" - -She looked down at them, she pulled the lace of her sleeves over them, but -otherwise she did not heed him. She was lost in unexpressed imaginings. - -Babbitt was too languid this evening to pursue his duty of being a captivating -(though strictly moral) male. He ambled back to the bridge-tables. He was not -much thrilled when Mrs. Frink, a small twittering woman, proposed that they -"try and do some spiritualism and table-tipping--you know Chum can make the -spirits come--honest, he just scares me!" - -The ladies of the party had not emerged all evening, but now, as the sex given -to things of the spirit while the men warred against base things material, -they took command and cried, "Oh, let's!" In the dimness the men were rather -solemn and foolish, but the goodwives quivered and adored as they sat about -the table. They laughed, "Now, you be good or I'll tell!" when the men took -their hands in the circle. - -Babbitt tingled with a slight return of interest in life as Louetta Swanson's -hand closed on his with quiet firmness. - -All of them hunched over, intent. They startled as some one drew a strained -breath. In the dusty light from the hall they looked unreal, they felt -disembodied. Mrs. Gunch squeaked, and they jumped with unnatural jocularity, -but at Frink's hiss they sank into subdued awe. Suddenly, incredibly, they -heard a knocking. They stared at Frink's half-revealed hands and found them -lying still. They wriggled, and pretended not to be impressed. - -Frink spoke with gravity: "Is some one there?" A thud. "Is one knock to be -the sign for 'yes'?" A thud. "And two for 'no'?" A thud. - -"Now, ladies and gentlemen, shall we ask the guide to put us into -communication with the spirit of some great one passed over?" Frink mumbled. - -Mrs Orville Jones begged, "Oh, let's talk to Dante! We studied him at the -Reading Circle. You know who he was, Orvy." - -"Certainly I know who he was! The Wop poet. Where do you think I was -raised?" from her insulted husband. - -"Sure--the fellow that took the Cook's Tour to Hell. I've never waded through -his po'try, but we learned about him in the U.," said Babbitt. - -"Page Mr. Dannnnnty!" intoned Eddie Swanson. - -"You ought to get him easy, Mr. Frink, you and he being fellow-poets," said -Louetta Swanson. - -"Fellow-poets, rats! Where d' you get that stuff?" protested Vergil Gunch. -"I suppose Dante showed a lot of speed for an old-timer--not that I've -actually read him, of course--but to come right down to hard facts, he -wouldn't stand one-two-three if he had to buckle down to practical literature -and turn out a poem for the newspaper-syndicate every day, like Chum does!" - -"That's so," from Eddie Swanson. "Those old birds could take their time. -Judas Priest, I could write poetry myself if I had a whole year for it, and -just wrote about that old-fashioned junk like Dante wrote about." - -Frink demanded, "Hush, now! I'll call him. . . O, Laughing Eyes, emerge forth -into the, uh, the ultimates and bring hither the spirit of Dante, that we -mortals may list to his words of wisdom." - -"You forgot to give um the address: 1658 Brimstone Avenue, Fiery Heights, -Hell," Gunch chuckled, but the others felt that this was irreligious. And -besides--"probably it was just Chum making the knocks, but still, if there did -happen to be something to all this, be exciting to talk to an old fellow -belonging to--way back in early times--" - -A thud. The spirit of Dante had come to the parlor of George F. Babbitt. - -He was, it seemed, quite ready to answer their questions. He was "glad to be -with them, this evening." - -Frink spelled out the messages by running through the alphabet till the spirit -interpreter knocked at the right letter. - -Littlefield asked, in a learned tone, "Do you like it in the Paradiso, -Messire?" - -"We are very happy on the higher plane, Signor. We are glad that you are -studying this great truth of spiritualism," Dante replied. - -The circle moved with an awed creaking of stays and shirt-fronts. -"Suppose--suppose there were something to this?" - -Babbitt had a different worry. "Suppose Chum Frink was really one of these -spiritualists! Chum had, for a literary fellow, always seemed to be a Regular -Guy; he belonged to the Chatham Road Presbyterian Church and went to the -Boosters' lunches and liked cigars and motors and racy stories. But suppose -that secretly--After all, you never could tell about these darn highbrows; and -to be an out-and-out spiritualist would be almost like being a socialist!" - -No one could long be serious in the presence of Vergil Gunch. "Ask Dant' how -Jack Shakespeare and old Verg'--the guy they named after me--are gettin' -along, and don't they wish they could get into the movie game!" he blared, and -instantly all was mirth. Mrs. Jones shrieked, and Eddie Swanson desired to -know whether Dante didn't catch cold with nothing on but his wreath. - -The pleased Dante made humble answer. - -But Babbitt--the curst discontent was torturing him again, and heavily, in the -impersonal darkness, he pondered, "I don't--We're all so flip and think we're -so smart. There'd be--A fellow like Dante--I wish I'd read some of his -pieces. I don't suppose I ever will, now." - -He had, without explanation, the impression of a slaggy cliff and on it, in -silhouette against menacing clouds, a lone and austere figure. He was dismayed -by a sudden contempt for his surest friends. He grasped Louetta Swanson's -hand, and found the comfort of human warmth. Habit came, a veteran warrior; -and he shook himself. "What the deuce is the matter with me, this evening?" - -He patted Louetta's hand, to indicate that he hadn't meant anything improper -by squeezing it, and demanded of Frink, "Say, see if you can get old Dant' to -spiel us some of his poetry. Talk up to him. Tell him, 'Buena giorna, senor, -com sa va, wie geht's? Keskersaykersa a little pome, senor?'" - - -II - -The lights were switched on; the women sat on the fronts of their chairs in -that determined suspense whereby a wife indicates that as soon as the present -speaker has finished, she is going to remark brightly to her husband, "Well, -dear, I think per-HAPS it's about time for us to be saying good-night." For -once Babbitt did not break out in blustering efforts to keep the party going. -He had--there was something he wished to think out--But the psychical research -had started them off again. ("Why didn't they go home! Why didn't they go -home!") Though he was impressed by the profundity of the statement, he was -only half-enthusiastic when Howard Littlefield lectured, "The United States is -the only nation in which the government is a Moral Ideal and not just a social -arrangement." ("True--true--weren't they EVER going home?") He was usually -delighted to have an "inside view" of the momentous world of motors but -to-night he scarcely listened to Eddie Swanson's revelation: "If you want to -go above the Javelin class, the Zeeco is a mighty good buy. Couple weeks ago, -and mind you, this was a fair, square test, they took a Zeeco stock -touring-car and they slid up the Tonawanda hill on high, and fellow told me--" -("Zeeco good boat but--Were they planning to stay all night?") - -They really were going, with a flutter of "We did have the best time!" - -Most aggressively friendly of all was Babbitt, yet as he burbled he was -reflecting, "I got through it, but for a while there I didn't hardly think I'd -last out." He prepared to taste that most delicate pleasure of the host: -making fun of his guests in the relaxation of midnight. As the door closed he -yawned voluptuously, chest out, shoulders wriggling, and turned cynically to -his wife. - -She was beaming. "Oh, it was nice, wasn't it! I know they enjoyed every -minute of it. Don't you think so?" - -He couldn't do it. He couldn't mock. It would have been like sneering at a -happy child. He lied ponderously: "You bet! Best party this year, by a long -shot." - -"Wasn't the dinner good! And honestly I thought the fried chicken was -delicious!" - -"You bet! Fried to the Queen's taste. Best fried chicken I've tasted for a -coon's age." - -"Didn't Matilda fry it beautifully! And don't you think the soup was simply -delicious?" - -"It certainly was! It was corking! Best soup I've tasted since Heck was a -pup!" But his voice was seeping away. They stood in the hall, under the -electric light in its square box-like shade of red glass bound with nickel. -She stared at him. - -"Why, George, you don't sound--you sound as if you hadn't really enjoyed it." - -"Sure I did! Course I did!" - -"George! What is it?" - -"Oh, I'm kind of tired, I guess. Been pounding pretty hard at the office. -Need to get away and rest up a little." - -"Well, we're going to Maine in just a few weeks now, dear." "Yuh--" Then he -was pouring it out nakedly, robbed of reticence. "Myra: I think it'd be a -good thing for me to get up there early." - -"But you have this man you have to meet in New York about business." - -"What man? Oh, sure. Him. Oh, that's all off. But I want to hit Maine -early--get in a little fishing, catch me a big trout, by golly!" A nervous, -artificial laugh. - -"Well, why don't we do it? Verona and Matilda can run the house between them, -and you and I can go any time, if you think we can afford it." - -"But that's--I've been feeling so jumpy lately, I thought maybe it might be a -good thing if I kind of got off by myself and sweat it out of me." - -"George! Don't you WANT me to go along?" She was too wretchedly in earnest -to be tragic, or gloriously insulted, or anything save dumpy and defenseless -and flushed to the red steaminess of a boiled beet. - -"Of course I do! I just meant--" Remembering that Paul Riesling had predicted -this, he was as desperate as she. "I mean, sometimes it's a good thing for an -old grouch like me to go off and get it out of his system." He tried to sound -paternal. "Then when you and the kids arrive--I figured maybe I might skip up -to Maine just a few days ahead of you--I'd be ready for a real bat, see how I -mean?" He coaxed her with large booming sounds, with affable smiles, like a -popular preacher blessing an Easter congregation, like a humorous lecturer -completing his stint of eloquence, like all perpetrators of masculine wiles. - -She stared at him, the joy of festival drained from her face. "Do I bother you -when we go on vacations? Don't I add anything to your fun?" - -He broke. Suddenly, dreadfully, he was hysterical, he was a yelping baby. -"Yes, yes, yes! Hell, yes! But can't you understand I'm shot to pieces? I'm -all in! I got to take care of myself! I tell you, I got to--I'm sick of -everything and everybody! I got to--" - -It was she who was mature and protective now. "Why, of course! You shall run -off by yourself! Why don't you get Paul to go along, and you boys just fish -and have a good time?" She patted his shoulder--reaching up to it--while he -shook with palsied helplessness, and in that moment was not merely by habit -fond of her but clung to her strength. - -She cried cheerily, "Now up-stairs you go, and pop into bed. We'll fix it all -up. I'll see to the doors. Now skip!" - -For many minutes, for many hours, for a bleak eternity, he lay awake, -shivering, reduced to primitive terror, comprehending that he had won freedom, -and wondering what he could do with anything so unknown and so embarrassing as -freedom. - - - -CHAPTER X - -No apartment-house in Zenith had more resolutely experimented in condensation -than the Revelstoke Arms, in which Paul and Zilla Riesling had a flat. By -sliding the beds into low closets the bedrooms were converted into -living-rooms. The kitchens were cupboards each containing an electric range, a -copper sink, a glass refrigerator, and, very intermittently, a Balkan maid. -Everything about the Arms was excessively modern, and everything was -compressed--except the garages. - -The Babbitts were calling on the Rieslings at the Arms. It was a speculative -venture to call on the Rieslings; interesting and sometimes disconcerting. -Zilla was an active, strident, full-blown, high-bosomed blonde. When she -condescended to be good-humored she was nervously amusing. Her comments on -people were saltily satiric and penetrative of accepted hypocrisies. "That's -so!" you said, and looked sheepish. She danced wildly, and called on the world -to be merry, but in the midst of it she would turn indignant. She was always -becoming indignant. Life was a plot against her and she exposed it furiously. - -She was affable to-night. She merely hinted that Orville Jones wore a toupe, -that Mrs. T. Cholmondeley Frink's singing resembled a Ford going into high, -and that the Hon. Otis Deeble, mayor of Zenith and candidate for Congress, was -a flatulent fool (which was quite true). The Babbitts and Rieslings sat -doubtfully on stone-hard brocade chairs in the small living-room of the flat, -with its mantel unprovided with a fireplace, and its strip of heavy gilt -fabric upon a glaring new player-piano, till Mrs. Riesling shrieked, "Come on! -Let's put some pep in it! Get out your fiddle, Paul, and I'll try to make -Georgie dance decently." - -The Babbitts were in earnest. They were plotting for the escape to Maine. -But when Mrs. Babbitt hinted with plump smilingness, "Does Paul get as tired -after the winter's work as Georgie does?" then Zilla remembered an injury; and -when Zilla Riesling remembered an injury the world stopped till something had -been done about it. - -"Does he get tired? No, he doesn't get tired, he just goes crazy, that's all! -You think Paul is so reasonable, oh, yes, and he loves to make out he's a -little lamb, but he's stubborn as a mule. Oh, if you had to live with him--! -You'd find out how sweet he is! He just pretends to be meek so he can have his -own way. And me, I get the credit for being a terrible old crank, but if I -didn't blow up once in a while and get something started, we'd die of dry-rot. -He never wants to go any place and--Why, last evening, just because the car -was out of order--and that was his fault, too, because he ought to have taken -it to the service-station and had the battery looked at--and he didn't want to -go down to the movies on the trolley. But we went, and then there was one of -those impudent conductors, and Paul wouldn't do a thing. - -"I was standing on the platform waiting for the people to let me into the car, -and this beast, this conductor, hollered at me, 'Come on, you, move up!' Why, -I've never had anybody speak to me that way in all my life! I was so -astonished I just turned to him and said--I thought there must be some -mistake, and so I said to him, perfectly pleasant, 'Were you speaking to me?' -and he went on and bellowed at me, 'Yes, I was! You're keeping the whole car -from starting!' he said, and then I saw he was one of these dirty ill-bred -hogs that kindness is wasted on, and so I stopped and looked right at him, and -I said, 'I--beg--your--pardon, I am not doing anything of the kind,' I said, -'it's the people ahead of me, who won't move up,' I said, 'and furthermore, -let me tell you, young man, that you're a low-down, foul-mouthed, impertinent -skunk,' I said, 'and you're no gentleman! I certainly intend to report you, -and we'll see,' I said, 'whether a lady is to be insulted by any drunken bum -that chooses to put on a ragged uniform, and I'd thank you,' I said, 'to keep -your filthy abuse to yourself.' And then I waited for Paul to show he was -half a man and come to my defense, and he just stood there and pretended he -hadn't heard a word, and so I said to him, 'Well,' I said--" - -"Oh, cut it, cut it, Zill!" Paul groaned. "We all know I'm a mollycoddle, -and you're a tender bud, and let's let it go at that." - -"Let it go?" Zilla's face was wrinkled like the Medusa, her voice was a -dagger of corroded brass. She was full of the joy of righteousness and bad -temper. She was a crusader and, like every crusader, she exulted in the -opportunity to be vicious in the name of virtue. "Let it go? If people knew -how many things I've let go--" - -"Oh, quit being such a bully." - -"Yes, a fine figure you'd cut if I didn't bully you! You'd lie abed till noon -and play your idiotic fiddle till midnight! You're born lazy, and you're born -shiftless, and you're born cowardly, Paul Riesling--" - -"Oh, now, don't say that, Zilla; you don't mean a word of it!" protested Mrs. -Babbitt. - -"I will say that, and I mean every single last word of it!" - -"Oh, now, Zilla, the idea!" Mrs. Babbitt was maternal and fussy. She was no -older than Zilla, but she seemed so--at first. She was placid and puffy and -mature, where Zilla, at forty-five, was so bleached and tight-corseted that -you knew only that she was older than she looked. "The idea of talking to poor -Paul like that!" - -"Poor Paul is right! We'd both be poor, we'd be in the poorhouse, if I didn't -jazz him up!" - -"Why, now, Zilla, Georgie and I were just saying how hard Paul's been working -all year, and we were thinking it would be lovely if the Boys could run off by -themselves. I've been coaxing George to go up to Maine ahead of the rest of -us, and get the tired out of his system before we come, and I think it would -be lovely if Paul could manage to get away and join him." - -At this exposure of his plot to escape, Paul was startled out of impassivity. -He rubbed his fingers. His hands twitched. - -Zilla bayed, "Yes! You're lucky! You can let George go, and not have to -watch him. Fat old Georgie! Never peeps at another woman! Hasn't got the -spunk!" - -"The hell I haven't!" Babbitt was fervently defending his priceless immorality -when Paul interrupted him--and Paul looked dangerous. He rose quickly; he said -gently to Zilla: - -"I suppose you imply I have a lot of sweethearts." - -"Yes, I do!" - -"Well, then, my dear, since you ask for it--There hasn't been a time in the -last ten years when I haven't found some nice little girl to comfort me, and -as long as you continue your amiability I shall probably continue to deceive -you. It isn't hard. You're so stupid." - -Zilla gibbered; she howled; words could not be distinguished in her slaver of -abuse. - -Then the bland George F. Babbitt was transformed. If Paul was dangerous, if -Zilla was a snake-locked fury, if the neat emotions suitable to the Revelstoke -Arms had been slashed into raw hatreds, it was Babbitt who was the most -formidable. He leaped up. He seemed very large. He seized Zilla's shoulder. -The cautions of the broker were wiped from his face, and his voice was cruel: - -"I've had enough of all this damn nonsense! I've known you for twenty-five -years, Zil, and I never knew you to miss a chance to take your disappointments -out on Paul. You're not wicked. You're worse. You're a fool. And let me -tell you that Paul is the finest boy God ever made. Every decent person is -sick and tired of your taking advantage of being a woman and springing every -mean innuendo you can think of. Who the hell are you that a person like Paul -should have to ask your PERMISSION to go with me? You act like you were a -combination of Queen Victoria and Cleopatra. You fool, can't you see how -people snicker at you, and sneer at you?" - -Zilla was sobbing, "I've never--I've never--nobody ever talked to me like this -in all my life!" - -"No, but that's the way they talk behind your back! Always! They say you're -a scolding old woman. Old, by God!" - -That cowardly attack broke her. Her eyes were blank. She wept. But Babbitt -glared stolidly. He felt that he was the all-powerful official in charge; -that Paul and Mrs. Babbitt looked on him with awe; that he alone could handle -this case. - -Zilla writhed. She begged, "Oh, they don't!" - -"They certainly do!" - -"I've been a bad woman! I'm terribly sorry! I'll kill myself! I'll do -anything. Oh, I'll--What do you want?" - -She abased herself completely. Also, she enjoyed it. To the connoisseur of -scenes, nothing is more enjoyable than a thorough, melodramatic, egoistic -humility. - -"I want you to let Paul beat it off to Maine with me," Babbitt demanded. - -"How can I help his going? You've just said I was an idiot and nobody paid -any attention to me." - -"Oh, you can help it, all right, all right! What you got to do is to cut out -hinting that the minute he gets out of your sight, he'll go chasing after some -petticoat. Matter fact, that's the way you start the boy off wrong. You ought -to have more sense--" - -"Oh, I will, honestly, I will, George. I know I was bad. Oh, forgive me, all -of you, forgive me--" - -She enjoyed it. - -So did Babbitt. He condemned magnificently and forgave piously, and as he -went parading out with his wife he was grandly explanatory to her: - -"Kind of a shame to bully Zilla, but course it was the only way to handle her. -Gosh, I certainly did have her crawling!" - -She said calmly, "Yes. You were horrid. You were showing off. You were -having a lovely time thinking what a great fine person you were!" - -"Well, by golly! Can you beat it! Of course I might of expected you to not -stand by me! I might of expected you'd stick up for your own sex!" - -"Yes. Poor Zilla, she's so unhappy. She takes it out on Paul. She hasn't a -single thing to do, in that little flat. And she broods too much. And she -used to be so pretty and gay, and she resents losing it. And you were just as -nasty and mean as you could be. I'm not a bit proud of you--or of Paul, -boasting about his horrid love-affairs!" - -He was sulkily silent; he maintained his bad temper at a high level of -outraged nobility all the four blocks home. At the door he left her, in -self-approving haughtiness, and tramped the lawn. - -With a shock it was revealed to him: "Gosh, I wonder if she was right--if she -was partly right?" Overwork must have flayed him to abnormal sensitiveness; -it was one of the few times in his life when he had queried his eternal -excellence; and he perceived the summer night, smelled the wet grass. Then: -"I don't care! I've pulled it off. We're going to have our spree. And for -Paul, I'd do anything." - - -II - -They were buying their Maine tackle at Ijams Brothers', the Sporting Goods -Mart, with the help of Willis Ijams, fellow member of the Boosters' Club. -Babbitt was completely mad. He trumpeted and danced. He muttered to Paul, -"Say, this is pretty good, eh? To be buying the stuff, eh? And good old -Willis Ijams himself coming down on the floor to wait on us! Say, if those -fellows that are getting their kit for the North Lakes knew we were going -clear up to Maine, they'd have a fit, eh? . . . Well, come on, Brother -Ijams--Willis, I mean. Here's your chance! We're a couple of easy marks! -Whee! Let me at it! I'm going to buy out the store!" - -He gloated on fly-rods and gorgeous rubber hip-boots, on tents with celluloid -windows and folding chairs and ice-boxes. He simple-heartedly wanted to buy -all of them. It was the Paul whom he was always vaguely protecting who kept -him from his drunken desires. - -But even Paul lightened when Willis Ijams, a salesman with poetry and -diplomacy, discussed flies. "Now, of course, you boys know." he said, "the -great scrap is between dry flies and wet flies. Personally, I'm for dry flies. -More sporting." - -"That's so. Lots more sporting," fulminated Babbitt, who knew very little -about flies either wet or dry. - -"Now if you'll take my advice, Georgie, you'll stock up well on these pale -evening dims, and silver sedges, and red ants. Oh, boy, there's a fly, that -red ant!" - -"You bet! That's what it is--a fly!" rejoiced Babbitt. - -"Yes, sir, that red ant," said Ijams, "is a real honest-to-God FLY!" - -"Oh, I guess ole Mr. Trout won't come a-hustling when I drop one of those red -ants on the water!" asserted Babbitt, and his thick wrists made a rapturous -motion of casting. - -"Yes, and the landlocked salmon will take it, too," said Ijams, who had never -seen a landlocked salmon. - -"Salmon! Trout! Say, Paul, can you see Uncle George with his khaki pants on -haulin' 'em in, some morning 'bout seven? Whee!" - - -III - -They were on the New York express, incredibly bound for Maine, incredibly -without their families. They were free, in a man's world, in the -smoking-compartment of the Pullman. - -Outside the car window was a glaze of darkness stippled with the gold of -infrequent mysterious lights. Babbitt was immensely conscious, in the sway -and authoritative clatter of the train, of going, of going on. Leaning toward -Paul he grunted, "Gosh, pretty nice to be hiking, eh?" - -The small room, with its walls of ocher-colored steel, was filled mostly with -the sort of men he classified as the Best Fellows You'll Ever Meet--Real Good -Mixers. There were four of them on the long seat; a fat man with a shrewd fat -face, a knife-edged man in a green velour hat, a very young young man with an -imitation amber cigarette-holder, and Babbitt. Facing them, on two movable -leather chairs, were Paul and a lanky, old-fashioned man, very cunning, with -wrinkles bracketing his mouth. They all read newspapers or trade journals, -boot-and-shoe journals, crockery journals, and waited for the joys of -conversation. It was the very young man, now making his first journey by -Pullman, who began it. - -"Say, gee, I had a wild old time in Zenith!" he gloried. "Say, if a fellow -knows the ropes there he can have as wild a time as he can in New York!" - -"Yuh, I bet you simply raised the old Ned. I figured you were a bad man when -I saw you get on the train!" chuckled the fat one. - -The others delightedly laid down their papers. - -"Well, that's all right now! I guess I seen some things in the Arbor you -never seen!" complained the boy. - -"Oh, I'll bet you did! I bet you lapped up the malted milk like a reg'lar -little devil!" - -Then, the boy having served as introduction, they ignored him and charged into -real talk. Only Paul, sitting by himself, reading at a serial story in a -newspaper, failed to join them and all but Babbitt regarded him as a snob, an -eccentric, a person of no spirit. - -Which of them said which has never been determined, and does not matter, since -they all had the same ideas and expressed them always with the same ponderous -and brassy assurance. If it was not Babbitt who was delivering any given -verdict, at least he was beaming on the chancellor who did deliver it. - -"At that, though," announced the first "they're selling quite some booze in -Zenith. Guess they are everywhere. I don't know how you fellows feel about -prohibition, but the way it strikes me is that it's a mighty beneficial thing -for the poor zob that hasn't got any will-power but for fellows like us, it's -an infringement of personal liberty." - -"That's a fact. Congress has got no right to interfere with a fellow's -personal liberty," contended the second. - -A man came in from the car, but as all the seats were full he stood up while -he smoked his cigarette. He was an Outsider; he was not one of the Old -Families of the smoking-compartment. They looked upon him bleakly and, after -trying to appear at ease by examining his chin in the mirror, he gave it up -and went out in silence. - -"Just been making a trip through the South. Business conditions not very good -down there," said one of the council. - -"Is that a fact! Not very good, eh?" - -"No, didn't strike me they were up to normal." - -"Not up to normal, eh?" - -"No, I wouldn't hardly say they were." - -The whole council nodded sagely and decided, "Yump. not hardly up to snuff." - -"Well, business conditions ain't what they ought to be out West, neither, not -by a long shot." - -"That's a fact. And I guess the hotel business feels it. That's one good -thing, though: these hotels that've been charging five bucks a day--yes, and -maybe six--seven!--for a rotten room are going to be darn glad to get four, -and maybe give you a little service." - -"That's a fact. Say, uh, speaknubout hotels, I hit the St. Francis at San -Francisco for the first time, the other day, and, say, it certainly is a -first-class place." - -"You're right, brother! The St. Francis is a swell place--absolutely A1." - -"That's a fact. I'm right with you. It's a first-class place." - -"Yuh, but say, any of you fellows ever stay at the Rippleton, in Chicago? I -don't want to knock--I believe in boosting wherever you can--but say, of all -the rotten dumps that pass 'emselves off as first-class hotels, that's the -worst. I'm going to get those guys, one of these days, and I told 'em so. You -know how I am--well, maybe you don't know, but I'm accustomed to first-class -accommodations, and I'm perfectly willing to pay a reasonable price. I got -into Chicago late the other night, and the Rippleton's near the station--I'd -never been there before, but I says to the taxi-driver--I always believe in -taking a taxi when you get in late; may cost a little more money, but, gosh, -it's worth it when you got to be up early next morning and out selling a lot -of crabs--and I said to him, 'Oh, just drive me over to the Rippleton.' - -"Well, we got there, and I breezed up to the desk and said to the clerk, -'Well, brother, got a nice room with bath for Cousin Bill?' Saaaay! You'd -'a' thought I'd sold him a second, or asked him to work on Yom Kippur! He -hands me the cold-boiled stare and yaps, 'I dunno, friend, I'll see,' and he -ducks behind the rigamajig they keep track of the rooms on. Well, I guess he -called up the Credit Association and the American Security League to see if I -was all right--he certainly took long enough--or maybe he just went to sleep; -but finally he comes out and looks at me like it hurts him, and croaks, 'I -think I can let you have a room with bath.' 'Well, that's awful nice of -you--sorry to trouble you--how much 'll it set me back?' I says, real sweet. -'It'll cost you seven bucks a day, friend,' he says. - -"Well, it was late, and anyway, it went down on my expense-account--gosh, if -I'd been paying it instead of the firm, I'd 'a' tramped the streets all night -before I'd 'a' let any hick tavern stick me seven great big round dollars, -believe me! So I lets it go at that. Well, the clerk wakes a nice young bell -hop--fine lad--not a day over seventy-nine years old--fought at the Battle of -Gettysburg and doesn't know it's over yet--thought I was one of the -Confederates, I guess, from the way he looked at me--and Rip van Winkle took -me up to something--I found out afterwards they called it a room, but first I -thought there'd been some mistake--I thought they were putting me in the -Salvation Army collection-box! At seven per each and every diem! Gosh!" - -"Yuh, I've heard the Rippleton was pretty cheesy. Now, when I go to Chicago I -always stay at the Blackstone or the La Salle--first-class places." - -"Say, any of you fellows ever stay at the Birchdale at Terre Haute? How is -it?" - -"Oh, the Birchdale is a first-class hotel." - -(Twelve minutes of conference on the state of hotels in South Bend, Flint, -Dayton, Tulsa, Wichita, Fort Worth, Winona, Erie, Fargo, and Moose Jaw.) - -"Speaknubout prices," the man in the velour hat observed, fingering the -elk-tooth on his heavy watch-chain, "I'd like to know where they get this -stuff about clothes coming down. Now, you take this suit I got on." He -pinched his trousers-leg. "Four years ago I paid forty-two fifty for it, and -it was real sure-'nough value. Well, here the other day I went into a store -back home and asked to see a suit, and the fellow yanks out some hand-me-downs -that, honest, I wouldn't put on a hired man. Just out of curiosity I asks him, -'What you charging for that junk?' 'Junk,' he says, 'what d' you mean junk? -That's a swell piece of goods, all wool--' Like hell! It was nice vegetable -wool, right off the Ole Plantation! 'It's all wool,' he says, 'and we get -sixty-seven ninety for it.' 'Oh, you do, do you!' I says. 'Not from me you -don't,' I says, and I walks right out on him. You bet! I says to the wife, -'Well,' I said, 'as long as your strength holds out and you can go on putting -a few more patches on papa's pants, we'll just pass up buying clothes."' - -"That's right, brother. And just look at collars, frinstance--" - -"Hey! Wait!" the fat man protested. "What's the matter with collars? I'm -selling collars! D' you realize the cost of labor on collars is still two -hundred and seven per cent. above--" - -They voted that if their old friend the fat man sold collars, then the price -of collars was exactly what it should be; but all other clothing was -tragically too expensive. They admired and loved one another now. They went -profoundly into the science of business, and indicated that the purpose of -manufacturing a plow or a brick was so that it might be sold. To them, the -Romantic Hero was no longer the knight, the wandering poet, the cowpuncher, -the aviator, nor the brave young district attorney, but the great -sales-manager, who had an Analysis of Merchandizing Problems on his -glass-topped desk, whose title of nobility was "Go-getter," and who devoted -himself and all his young samurai to the cosmic purpose of Selling--not of -selling anything in particular, for or to anybody in particular, but pure -Selling. - -The shop-talk roused Paul Riesling. Though he was a player of violins and an -interestingly unhappy husband, he was also a very able salesman of -tar-roofing. He listened to the fat man's remarks on "the value of -house-organs and bulletins as a method of jazzing-up the Boys out on the -road;" and he himself offered one or two excellent thoughts on the use of -two-cent stamps on circulars. Then he committed an offense against the holy -law of the Clan of Good Fellows. He became highbrow. - -They were entering a city. On the outskirts they passed a steel-mill which -flared in scarlet and orange flame that licked at the cadaverous stacks, at -the iron-sheathed walls and sullen converters. - -"My Lord, look at that--beautiful!" said Paul. - -"You bet it's beautiful, friend. That's the Shelling-Horton Steel Plant, and -they tell me old John Shelling made a good three million bones out of -munitions during the war!" the man with the velour hat said reverently. - -"I didn't mean--I mean it's lovely the way the light pulls that picturesque -yard, all littered with junk, right out of the darkness," said Paul. - -They stared at him, while Babbitt crowed, "Paul there has certainly got one -great little eye for picturesque places and quaint sights and all that stuff. -'D of been an author or something if he hadn't gone into the roofing line." - -Paul looked annoyed. (Babbitt sometimes wondered if Paul appreciated his -loyal boosting.) The man in the velour hat grunted, "Well, personally, I think -Shelling-Horton keep their works awful dirty. Bum routing. But I don't -suppose there's any law against calling 'em 'picturesque' if it gets you that -way!" - -Paul sulkily returned to his newspaper and the conversation logically moved on -to trains. - -"What time do we get into Pittsburg?" asked Babbitt. - -"Pittsburg? I think we get in at--no, that was last year's schedule--wait a -minute--let's see--got a time-table right here." - -"I wonder if we're on time?" - -"Yuh, sure, we must be just about on time." - -"No, we aren't--we were seven minutes late, last station." - -"Were we? Straight? Why, gosh, I thought we were right on time." - -"No, we're about seven minutes late." - -"Yuh, that's right; seven minutes late." - -The porter entered--a negro in white jacket with brass buttons. - -"How late are we, George?" growled the fat man. - -"'Deed, I don't know, sir. I think we're about on time," said the porter, -folding towels and deftly tossing them up on the rack above the washbowls. The -council stared at him gloomily and when he was gone they wailed: - -"I don't know what's come over these niggers, nowadays. They never give you a -civil answer." - -"That's a fact. They're getting so they don't have a single bit of respect -for you. The old-fashioned coon was a fine old cuss--he knew his place--but -these young dinges don't want to be porters or cotton-pickers. Oh, no! They -got to be lawyers and professors and Lord knows what all! I tell you, it's -becoming a pretty serious problem. We ought to get together and show the -black man, yes, and the yellow man, his place. Now, I haven't got one -particle of race-prejudice. I'm the first to be glad when a nigger -succeeds--so long as he stays where he belongs and doesn't try to usurp the -rightful authority and business ability of the white man." - -"That's the i.! And another thing we got to do," said the man with the velour -hat (whose name was Koplinsky), "is to keep these damn foreigners out of the -country. Thank the Lord, we're putting a limit on immigration. These Dagoes -and Hunkies have got to learn that this is a white man's country, and they -ain't wanted here. When we've assimilated the foreigners we got here now and -learned 'em the principles of Americanism and turned 'em into regular folks, -why then maybe we'll let in a few more." - -"You bet. That's a fact," they observed, and passed on to lighter topics. -They rapidly reviewed motor-car prices, tire-mileage, oil-stocks, fishing, and -the prospects for the wheat-crop in Dakota. - -But the fat man was impatient at this waste of time. He was a veteran traveler -and free of illusions. Already he had asserted that he was "an old he-one." -He leaned forward, gathered in their attention by his expression of sly humor, -and grumbled, "Oh, hell, boys, let's cut out the formality and get down to the -stories!" - -They became very lively and intimate. - -Paul and the boy vanished. The others slid forward on the long seat, -unbuttoned their vests, thrust their feet up on the chairs, pulled the stately -brass cuspidors nearer, and ran the green window-shade down on its little -trolley, to shut them in from the uncomfortable strangeness of night. After -each bark of laughter they cried, "Say, jever hear the one about--" Babbitt -was expansive and virile. When the train stopped at an important station, the -four men walked up and down the cement platform, under the vast smoky -train-shed roof, like a stormy sky, under the elevated footways, beside crates -of ducks and sides of beef, in the mystery of an unknown city. They strolled -abreast, old friends and well content. At the long-drawn "Alllll -aboarrrrrd"--like a mountain call at dusk--they hastened back into the -smoking-compartment, and till two of the morning continued the droll tales, -their eyes damp with cigar-smoke and laughter. When they parted they shook -hands, and chuckled, "Well, sir, it's been a great session. Sorry to bust it -up. Mighty glad to met you." - -Babbitt lay awake in the close hot tomb of his Pullman berth, shaking with -remembrance of the fat man's limerick about the lady who wished to be wild. He -raised the shade; he lay with a puffy arm tucked between his head and the -skimpy pillow, looking out on the sliding silhouettes of trees, and village -lamps like exclamation-points. He was very happy. - - - -CHAPTER XI - -I - -THEY had four hours in New York between trains. The one thing Babbitt wished -to see was the Pennsylvania Hotel, which had been built since his last visit. -He stared up at it, muttering, "Twenty-two hundred rooms and twenty-two -hundred baths! That's got everything in the world beat. Lord, their turnover -must be--well, suppose price of rooms is four to eight dollars a day, and I -suppose maybe some ten and--four times twenty-two hundred-say six times -twenty-two hundred--well, anyway, with restaurants and everything, say summers -between eight and fifteen thousand a day. Every day! I never thought I'd see -a thing like that! Some town! Of course the average fellow in Zenith has got -more Individual Initiative than the fourflushers here, but I got to hand it to -New York. Yes, sir, town, you're all right--some ways. Well, old Paulski, I -guess we've seen everything that's worth while. How'll we kill the rest of the -time? Movie?" - -But Paul desired to see a liner. "Always wanted to go to Europe--and, by -thunder, I will, too, some day before I past out," he sighed. - -From a rough wharf on the North River they stared at the stern of the -Aquitania and her stacks and wireless antenna lifted above the dock-house -which shut her in. - -"By golly," Babbitt droned, "wouldn't be so bad to go over to the Old Country -and take a squint at all these ruins, and the place where Shakespeare was -born. And think of being able to order a drink whenever you wanted one! Just -range up to a bar and holler out loud, 'Gimme a cocktail, and darn the -police!' Not bad at all. What juh like to see, over there, Paulibus?" - -Paul did not answer. Babbitt turned. Paul was standing with clenched fists, -head drooping, staring at the liner as in terror. His thin body, seen against -the summer-glaring planks of the wharf, was childishly meager. - -Again, "What would you hit for on the other side, Paul?" - -Scowling at the steamer, his breast heaving, Paul whispered, "Oh, my God!" -While Babbitt watched him anxiously he snapped, "Come on, let's get out of -this," and hastened down the wharf, not looking back. - -"That's funny," considered Babbitt. "The boy didn't care for seeing the ocean -boats after all. I thought he'd be interested in 'em." - - -II - -Though he exulted, and made sage speculations about locomotive horse-power, as -their train climbed the Maine mountain-ridge and from the summit he looked -down the shining way among the pines; though he remarked, "Well, by golly!" -when he discovered that the station at Katadumcook, the end of the line, was -an aged freight-car; Babbitt's moment of impassioned release came when they -sat on a tiny wharf on Lake Sunasquam, awaiting the launch from the hotel. A -raft had floated down the lake; between the logs and the shore, the water was -transparent, thin-looking, flashing with minnows. A guide in black felt hat -with trout-flies in the band, and flannel shirt of a peculiarly daring blue, -sat on a log and whittled and was silent. A dog, a good country dog, black and -woolly gray, a dog rich in leisure and in meditation, scratched and grunted -and slept. The thick sunlight was lavish on the bright water, on the rim of -gold-green balsam boughs, the silver birches and tropic ferns, and across the -lake it burned on the sturdy shoulders of the mountains. Over everything was a -holy peace. - -Silent, they loafed on the edge of the wharf, swinging their legs above the -water. The immense tenderness of the place sank into Babbitt, and he -murmured, "I'd just like to sit here--the rest of my life--and whittle--and -sit. And never hear a typewriter. Or Stan Graff fussing in the 'phone. Or -Rone and Ted scrapping. Just sit. Gosh!" - -He patted Paul's shoulder. "How does it strike you, old snoozer?" - -"Oh, it's darn good, Georgie. There's something sort of eternal about it." - -For once, Babbitt understood him. - - -III - -Their launch rounded the bend; at the head of the lake, under a mountain -slope, they saw the little central dining-shack of their hotel and the -crescent of squat log cottages which served as bedrooms. They landed, and -endured the critical examination of the habitues who had been at the hotel for -a whole week. In their cottage, with its high stone fireplace, they hastened, -as Babbitt expressed it, to "get into some regular he-togs." They came out; -Paul in an old gray suit and soft white shirt; Babbitt in khaki shirt and vast -and flapping khaki trousers. It was excessively new khaki; his rimless -spectacles belonged to a city office; and his face was not tanned but a city -pink. He made a discordant noise in the place. But with infinite satisfaction -he slapped his legs and crowed, "Say, this is getting back home, eh?" - -They stood on the wharf before the hotel. He winked at Paul and drew from his -back pocket a plug of chewing-tobacco, a vulgarism forbidden in the Babbitt -home. He took a chew, beaming and wagging his head as he tugged at it. "Um! -Um! Maybe I haven't been hungry for a wad of eating-tobacco! Have some?" - -They looked at each other in a grin of understanding. Paul took the plug, -gnawed at it. They stood quiet, their jaws working. They solemnly spat, one -after the other, into the placid water. They stretched voluptuously, with -lifted arms and arched backs. From beyond the mountains came the shuffling -sound of a far-off train. A trout leaped, and fell back in a silver circle. -They sighed together. - - -IV - -They had a week before their families came. Each evening they planned to get -up early and fish before breakfast. Each morning they lay abed till the -breakfast-bell, pleasantly conscious that there were no efficient wives to -rouse them. The mornings were cold; the fire was kindly as they dressed. - -Paul was distressingly clean, but Babbitt reveled in a good sound dirtiness, -in not having to shave till his spirit was moved to it. He treasured every -grease spot and fish-scale on his new khaki trousers. - -All morning they fished unenergetically, or tramped the dim and -aqueous-lighted trails among rank ferns and moss sprinkled with crimson bells. -They slept all afternoon, and till midnight played stud-poker with the guides. -Poker was a serious business to the guides. They did not gossip; they -shuffled the thick greasy cards with a deft ferocity menacing to the "sports;" -and Joe Paradise, king of guides, was sarcastic to loiterers who halted the -game even to scratch. - -At midnight, as Paul and he blundered to their cottage over the pungent wet -grass, and pine-roots confusing in the darkness, Babbitt rejoiced that he did -not have to explain to his wife where he had been all evening. - -They did not talk much. The nervous loquacity and opinionation of the Zenith -Athletic Club dropped from them. But when they did talk they slipped into the -naive intimacy of college days. Once they drew their canoe up to the bank of -Sunasquam Water, a stream walled in by the dense green of the hardhack. The -sun roared on the green jungle but in the shade was sleepy peace, and the -water was golden and rippling. Babbitt drew his hand through the cool flood, -and mused: - -"We never thought we'd come to Maine together!" - -"No. We've never done anything the way we thought we would. I expected to live -in Germany with my granddad's people, and study the fiddle." - -"That's so. And remember how I wanted to be a lawyer and go into politics? I -still think I might have made a go of it. I've kind of got the gift of the -gab--anyway, I can think on my feet, and make some kind of a spiel on most -anything, and of course that's the thing you need in politics. By golly, Ted's -going to law-school, even if I didn't! Well--I guess it's worked out all -right. Myra's been a fine wife. And Zilla means well, Paulibus." - -"Yes. Up here, I figure out all sorts of plans to keep her amused. I kind of -feel life is going to be different, now that we're getting a good rest and can -go back and start over again." - -"I hope so, old boy." Shyly: "Say, gosh, it's been awful nice to sit around -and loaf and gamble and act regular, with you along, you old horse-thief!" - -"Well, you know what it means to me, Georgie. Saved my life." - -The shame of emotion overpowered them; they cursed a little, to prove they -were good rough fellows; and in a mellow silence, Babbitt whistling while Paul -hummed, they paddled back to the hotel. - - -V - -Though it was Paul who had seemed overwrought, Babbitt who had been the -protecting big brother, Paul became clear-eyed and merry, while Babbitt sank -into irritability. He uncovered layer on layer of hidden weariness. At first -he had played nimble jester to Paul and for him sought amusements; by the end -of the week Paul was nurse, and Babbitt accepted favors with the condescension -one always shows a patient nurse. - -The day before their families arrived, the women guests at the hotel bubbled, -"Oh, isn't it nice! You must be so excited;" and the proprieties compelled -Babbitt and Paul to look excited. But they went to bed early and grumpy. - -When Myra appeared she said at once, "Now, we want you boys to go on playing -around just as if we weren't here." - -The first evening, he stayed out for poker with the guides, and she said in -placid merriment, "My! You're a regular bad one!" The second evening, she -groaned sleepily, "Good heavens, are you going to be out every single night?" -The third evening, he didn't play poker. - -He was tired now in every cell. "Funny! Vacation doesn't seem to have done -me a bit of good," he lamented. "Paul's frisky as a colt, but I swear, I'm -crankier and nervouser than when I came up here." - -He had three weeks of Maine. At the end of the second week he began to feel -calm, and interested in life. He planned an expedition to climb Sachem -Mountain, and wanted to camp overnight at Box Car Pond. He was curiously -weak, yet cheerful, as though he had cleansed his veins of poisonous energy -and was filling them with wholesome blood. - -He ceased to be irritated by Ted's infatuation with a waitress (his seventh -tragic affair this year); he played catch with Ted, and with pride taught him -to cast a fly in the pine-shadowed silence of Skowtuit Pond. - -At the end he sighed, "Hang it, I'm just beginning to enjoy my vacation. But, -well, I feel a lot better. And it's going to be one great year! Maybe the -Real Estate Board will elect me president, instead of some fuzzy old-fashioned -faker like Chan Mott." - -On the way home, whenever he went into the smoking-compartment he felt guilty -at deserting his wife and angry at being expected to feel guilty, but each -time he triumphed, "Oh, this is going to be a great year, a great old year!" - - - -CHAPTER XII - -I - -ALL the way home from Maine, Babbitt was certain that he was a changed man. He -was converted to serenity. He was going to cease worrying about business. He -was going to have more "interests"--theaters, public affairs, reading. And -suddenly, as he finished an especially heavy cigar, he was going to stop -smoking. - -He invented a new and perfect method. He would buy no tobacco; he would -depend on borrowing it; and, of course, he would be ashamed to borrow often. -In a spasm of righteousness he flung his cigar-case out of the -smoking-compartment window. He went back and was kind to his wife about -nothing in particular; he admired his own purity, and decided, "Absolutely -simple. Just a matter of will-power." He started a magazine serial about a -scientific detective. Ten miles on, he was conscious that he desired to smoke. -He ducked his head, like a turtle going into its shell; he appeared uneasy; he -skipped two pages in his story and didn't know it. Five miles later, he -leaped up and sought the porter. "Say, uh, George, have you got a--" The -porter looked patient. "Have you got a time-table?" Babbitt finished. At the -next stop he went out and bought a cigar. Since it was to be his last before -he reached Zenith, he finished it down to an inch stub. - -Four days later he again remembered that he had stopped smoking, but he was -too busy catching up with his office-work to keep it remembered. - - -II - -Baseball, he determined, would be an excellent hobby. "No sense a man's -working his fool head off. I'm going out to the Game three times a week. -Besides, fellow ought to support the home team." - -He did go and support the team, and enhance the glory of Zenith, by yelling -"Attaboy!" and "Rotten!" He performed the rite scrupulously. He wore a cotton -handkerchief about his collar; he became sweaty; he opened his mouth in a wide -loose grin; and drank lemon soda out of a bottle. He went to the Game three -times a week, for one week. Then he compromised on watching the Advocate-Times -bulletin-board. He stood in the thickest and steamiest of the crowd, and as -the boy up on the lofty platform recorded the achievements of Big Bill -Bostwick, the pitcher, Babbitt remarked to complete strangers, "Pretty nice! -Good work!" and hastened back to the office. - -He honestly believed that he loved baseball. It is true that he hadn't, in -twenty-five years, himself played any baseball except back-lot catch with -Ted--very gentle, and strictly limited to ten minutes. But the game was a -custom of his clan, and it gave outlet for the homicidal and sides-taking -instincts which Babbitt called "patriotism" and "love of sport." - -As he approached the office he walked faster and faster, muttering, "Guess -better hustle." All about him the city was hustling, for hustling's sake. Men -in motors were hustling to pass one another in the hustling traffic. Men were -hustling to catch trolleys, with another trolley a minute behind, and to leap -from the trolleys, to gallop across the sidewalk, to hurl themselves into -buildings, into hustling express elevators. Men in dairy lunches were -hustling to gulp down the food which cooks had hustled to fry. Men in barber -shops were snapping, "Jus' shave me once over. Gotta hustle." Men were -feverishly getting rid of visitors in offices adorned with the signs, "This Is -My Busy Day" and "The Lord Created the World in Six Days--You Can Spiel All -You Got to Say in Six Minutes." Men who had made five thousand, year before -last, and ten thousand last year, were urging on nerve-yelping bodies and -parched brains so that they might make twenty thousand this year; and the men -who had broken down immediately after making their twenty thousand dollars -were hustling to catch trains, to hustle through the vacations which the -hustling doctors had ordered. - -Among them Babbitt hustled back to his office, to sit down with nothing much -to do except see that the staff looked as though they were hustling. - - -III - -Every Saturday afternoon he hustled out to his country club and hustled -through nine holes of golf as a rest after the week's hustle. - -In Zenith it was as necessary for a Successful Man to belong to a country club -as it was to wear a linen collar. Babbitt's was the Outing Golf and Country -Club, a pleasant gray-shingled building with a broad porch, on a daisy-starred -cliff above Lake Kennepoose. There was another, the Tonawanda Country Club, -to which belonged Charles McKelvey, Horace Updike, and the other rich men who -lunched not at the Athletic but at the Union Club. Babbitt explained with -frequency, "You couldn't hire me to join the Tonawanda, even if I did have a -hundred and eighty bucks to throw away on the initiation fee. At the Outing -we've got a bunch of real human fellows, and the finest lot of little women in -town--just as good at joshing as the men--but at the Tonawanda there's nothing -but these would-be's in New York get-ups, drinking tea! Too much dog -altogether. Why, I wouldn't join the Tonawanda even if they--I wouldn't join -it on a bet!" - -When he had played four or five holes, he relaxed a bit, his -tobacco-fluttering heart beat more normally, and his voice slowed to the -drawling of his hundred generations of peasant ancestors. IV - -At least once a week Mr. and Mrs. Babbitt and Tinka went to the movies. Their -favorite motion-picture theater was the Chateau, which held three thousand -spectators and had an orchestra of fifty pieces which played Arrangements from -the Operas and suites portraying a Day on the Farm, or a Four-alarm Fire. In -the stone rotunda, decorated with crown-embroidered velvet chairs and almost -medieval tapestries, parrakeets sat on gilded lotos columns. - -With exclamations of "Well, by golly!" and "You got to go some to beat this -dump!" Babbitt admired the Chateau. As he stared across the thousands of -heads, a gray plain in the dimness, as he smelled good clothes and mild -perfume and chewing-gum, he felt as when he had first seen a mountain and -realized how very, very much earth and rock there was in it. - -He liked three kinds of films: pretty bathing girls with bare legs; policemen -or cowboys and an industrious shooting of revolvers; and funny fat men who ate -spaghetti. He chuckled with immense, moist-eyed sentimentality at interludes -portraying puppies, kittens, and chubby babies; and he wept at deathbeds and -old mothers being patient in mortgaged cottages. Mrs. Babbitt preferred the -pictures in which handsome young women in elaborate frocks moved through sets -ticketed as the drawing-rooms of New York millionaires. As for Tinka, she -preferred, or was believed to prefer, whatever her parents told her to. - -All his relaxations--baseball, golf, movies, bridge, motoring, long talks with -Paul at the Athletic Club, or at the Good Red Beef and Old English Chop -House--were necessary to Babbitt, for he was entering a year of such activity -as he had never known. - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -I - -IT was by accident that Babbitt had his opportunity to address the S. A. R. E. -B. - -The S. A. R. E. B., as its members called it, with the universal passion for -mysterious and important-sounding initials, was the State Association of Real -Estate Boards; the organization of brokers and operators. It was to hold its -annual convention at Monarch, Zenith's chief rival among the cities of the -state. Babbitt was an official delegate; another was Cecil Rountree, whom -Babbitt admired for his picaresque speculative building, and hated for his -social position, for being present at the smartest dances on Royal Ridge. -Rountree was chairman of the convention program-committee. - -Babbitt had growled to him, "Makes me tired the way these doctors and profs -and preachers put on lugs about being 'professional men.' A good realtor has -to have more knowledge and finesse than any of 'em." - -"Right you are! I say: Why don't you put that into a paper, and give it at -the S. A. R. E. B.?" suggested Rountree. - -"Well, if it would help you in making up the program--Tell you: the way I look -at it is this: First place, we ought to insist that folks call us 'realtors' -and not 'real-estate men.' Sounds more like a reg'lar profession. Second -place--What is it distinguishes a profession from a mere trade, business, or -occupation? What is it? Why, it's the public service and the skill, the -trained skill, and the knowledge and, uh, all that, whereas a fellow that -merely goes out for the jack, he never considers the-public service and -trained skill and so on. Now as a professional--" - -"Rather! That's perfectly bully! Perfectly corking! Now you write it in a -paper," said Rountree, as he rapidly and firmly moved away. - - -II - -However accustomed to the literary labors of advertisements and -correspondence, Babbitt was dismayed on the evening when he sat down to -prepare a paper which would take a whole ten minutes to read. - -He laid out a new fifteen-cent school exercise-book on his wife's collapsible -sewing-table, set up for the event in the living-room. The household had been -bullied into silence; Verona and Ted requested to disappear, and Tinka -threatened with "If I hear one sound out of you--if you holler for a glass of -water one single solitary time--You better not, that's all!" Mrs. Babbitt sat -over by the piano, making a nightgown and gazing with respect while Babbitt -wrote in the exercise-book, to the rhythmical wiggling and squeaking of the -sewing-table. - -When he rose, damp and jumpy, and his throat dusty from cigarettes, she -marveled, "I don't see how you can just sit down and make up things right out -of your own head!" - -"Oh, it's the training in constructive imagination that a fellow gets in -modern business life." - -He had written seven pages, whereof the first page set forth: - - -{illustration omitted: consists of several doodles and -"(1) a profession -(2) Not just a trade -crossed out (3) Skill & vision -(3) Shd be called "realtor" & not just real est man"} - - -The other six pages were rather like the first. - -For a week he went about looking important. Every morning, as he dressed, he -thought aloud: "Jever stop to consider, Myra, that before a town can have -buildings or prosperity or any of those things, some realtor has got to sell -'em the land? All civilization starts with him. Jever realize that?" At the -Athletic Club he led unwilling men aside to inquire, "Say, if you had to read -a paper before a big convention, would you start in with the funny stories or -just kind of scatter 'em all through?" He asked Howard Littlefield for a "set -of statistics about real-estate sales; something good and impressive," and -Littlefield provided something exceedingly good and impressive. - -But it was to T. Cholmondeley Frink that Babbitt most often turned. He caught -Frink at the club every noon, and demanded, while Frink looked hunted and -evasive, "Say, Chum--you're a shark on this writing stuff--how would you put -this sentence, see here in my manuscript--manuscript now where the deuce is -that?--oh, yes, here. Would you say 'We ought not also to alone think?' or -'We ought also not to think alone?' or--" - -One evening when his wife was away and he had no one to impress, Babbitt -forgot about Style, Order, and the other mysteries, and scrawled off what he -really thought about the real-estate business and about himself, and he found -the paper written. When he read it to his wife she yearned, "Why, dear, it's -splendid; beautifully written, and so clear and interesting, and such splendid -ideas! Why, it's just--it's just splendid!" - -Next day he cornered Chum Frink and crowed, "Well, old son, I finished it last -evening! Just lammed it out! I used to think you writing-guys must have a -hard job making up pieces, but Lord, it's a cinch. Pretty soft for you -fellows; you certainly earn your money easy! Some day when I get ready to -retire, guess I'll take to writing and show you boys how to do it. I always -used to think I could write better stuff, and more punch and originality, than -all this stuff you see printed, and now I'm doggone sure of it!" - -He had four copies of the paper typed in black with a gorgeous red title, had -them bound in pale blue manilla, and affably presented one to old Ira Runyon, -the managing editor of the Advocate-Times, who said yes, indeed yes, he was -very glad to have it, and he certainly would read it all through--as soon as -he could find time. - -Mrs. Babbitt could not go to Monarch. She had a women's-club meeting. Babbitt -said that he was very sorry. - - -III - -Besides the five official delegates to the convention--Babbitt, Rountree, W. -A. Rogers, Alvin Thayer, and Elbert Wing--there were fifty unofficial -delegates, most of them with their wives. - -They met at the Union Station for the midnight train to Monarch. All of them, -save Cecil Rountree, who was such a snob that he never wore badges, displayed -celluloid buttons the size of dollars and lettered "We zoom for Zenith." The -official delegates were magnificent with silver and magenta ribbons. Martin -Lumsen's little boy Willy carried a tasseled banner inscribed "Zenith the Zip -City--Zeal, Zest and Zowie--1,000,000 in 1935." As the delegates arrived, not -in taxicabs but in the family automobile driven by the oldest son or by Cousin -Fred, they formed impromptu processions through the station waiting-room. - -It was a new and enormous waiting-room, with marble pilasters, and frescoes -depicting the exploration of the Chaloosa River Valley by Pere Emile Fauthoux -in 1740. The benches were shelves of ponderous mahogany; the news-stand a -marble kiosk with a brass grill. Down the echoing spaces of the hall the -delegates paraded after Willy Lumsen's banner, the men waving their cigars, -the women conscious of their new frocks and strings of beads, all singing to -the tune of Auld Lang Syne the official City Song, written by Chum Frink: - - Good old Zenith, - Our kin and kith, - Wherever we may be, - Hats in the ring, - We blithely sing - Of thy Prosperity. - - -Warren Whitby, the broker, who had a gift of verse for banquets and birthdays, -had added to Frink's City Song a special verse for the realtors' convention: - - Oh, here we come, - The fellows from - Zenith, the Zip Citee. - We wish to state - In real estate - There's none so live as we. - - -Babbitt was stirred to hysteric patriotism. He leaped on a bench, shouting to -the crowd: - -"What's the matter with Zenith?" - -"She's all right!" - -"What's best ole town in the U. S. A.?" - -"Zeeeeeen-ith!" - -The patient poor people waiting for the midnight train stared in unenvious -wonder--Italian women with shawls, old weary men with broken shoes, roving -road-wise boys in suits which had been flashy when they were new but which -were faded now and wrinkled. - -Babbitt perceived that as an official delegate he must be more dignified. With -Wing and Rogers he tramped up and down the cement platform beside the waiting -Pullmans. Motor-driven baggage-trucks and red-capped porters carrying bags -sped down the platform with an agreeable effect of activity. Arc-lights -glared and stammered overhead. The glossy yellow sleeping-cars shone -impressively. Babbitt made his voice to be measured and lordly; he thrust out -his abdomen and rumbled, "We got to see to it that the convention lets the -Legislature understand just where they get off in this matter of taxing realty -transfers." Wing uttered approving grunts and Babbitt swelled--gloated - -The blind of a Pullman compartment was raised, and Babbitt looked into an -unfamiliar world. The occupant of the compartment was Lucile McKelvey, the -pretty wife of the millionaire contractor. Possibly, Babbitt thrilled, she -was going to Europe! On the seat beside her was a bunch of orchids and -violets, and a yellow paper-bound book which seemed foreign. While he stared, -she picked up the book, then glanced out of the window as though she was -bored. She must have looked straight at him, and he had met her, but she gave -no sign. She languidly pulled down the blind, and he stood still, a cold -feeling of insignificance in his heart. - -But on the train his pride was restored by meeting delegates from Sparta, -Pioneer, and other smaller cities of the state, who listened respectfully -when, as a magnifico from the metropolis of Zenith, he explained politics and -the value of a Good Sound Business Administration. They fell joyfully into -shop-talk, the purest and most rapturous form of conversation: - -"How'd this fellow Rountree make out with this big apartment-hotel he was -going to put up? Whadde do? Get out bonds to finance it?" asked a Sparta -broker. - -"Well, I'll tell you," said Babbitt. "Now if I'd been handling it--" - -"So," Elbert Wing was droning, "I hired this shop-window for a week, and put -up a big sign, 'Toy Town for Tiny Tots,' and stuck in a lot of doll houses and -some dinky little trees, and then down at the bottom, 'Baby Likes This -Dollydale, but Papa and Mama Will Prefer Our Beautiful Bungalows,' and you -know, that certainly got folks talking, and first week we sold--" - -The trucks sang "lickety-lick, lickety-lick" as the train ran through the -factory district. Furnaces spurted flame, and power-hammers were clanging. -Red lights, green lights, furious white lights rushed past, and Babbitt was -important again, and eager. - - -IV - -He did a voluptuous thing: he had his clothes pressed on the train. In the -morning, half an hour before they reached Monarch, the porter came to his -berth and whispered, "There's a drawing-room vacant, sir. I put your suit in -there." In tan autumn overcoat over his pajamas, Babbitt slipped down the -green-curtain-lined aisle to the glory of his first private compartment. The -porter indicated that he knew Babbitt was used to a man-servant; he held the -ends of Babbitt's trousers, that the beautifully sponged garment might not be -soiled, filled the bowl in the private washroom, and waited with a towel. - -To have a private washroom was luxurious. However enlivening a Pullman -smoking-compartment was by night, even to Babbitt it was depressing in the -morning, when it was jammed with fat men in woolen undershirts, every hook -filled with wrinkled cottony shirts, the leather seat piled with dingy -toilet-kits, and the air nauseating with the smell of soap and toothpaste. -Babbitt did not ordinarily think much of privacy, but now he reveled in it, -reveled in his valet, and purred with pleasure as he gave the man a tip of a -dollar and a half. - -He rather hoped that he was being noticed as, in his newly pressed clothes, -with the adoring porter carrying his suit-case, he disembarked at Monarch. - -He was to share a room at the Hotel Sedgwick with W. A. Rogers, that shrewd, -rustic-looking Zenith dealer in farm-lands. Together they had a noble -breakfast, with waffles, and coffee not in exiguous cups but in large pots. -Babbitt grew expansive, and told Rogers about the art of writing; he gave a -bellboy a quarter to fetch a morning newspaper from the lobby, and sent to -Tinka a post-card: "Papa wishes you were here to bat round with him." - - -V - -The meetings of the convention were held in the ballroom of the Allen House. -In an anteroom was the office of the chairman of the executive committee. He -was the busiest man in the convention; he was so busy that he got nothing done -whatever. He sat at a marquetry table, in a room littered with crumpled paper -and, all day long, town-boosters and lobbyists and orators who wished to lead -debates came and whispered to him, whereupon he looked vague, and said -rapidly, "Yes, yes, that's a fine idea; we'll do that," and instantly forgot -all about it, lighted a cigar and forgot that too, while the telephone rang -mercilessly and about him men kept beseeching, "Say, Mr. Chairman--say, Mr. -Chairman!" without penetrating his exhausted hearing. - -In the exhibit-room were plans of the new suburbs of Sparta, pictures of the -new state capitol, at Galop de Vache, and large ears of corn with the label, -"Nature's Gold, from Shelby County, the Garden Spot of God's Own Country." - -The real convention consisted of men muttering in hotel bedrooms or in groups -amid the badge-spotted crowd in the hotel-lobby, but there was a show of -public meetings. - -The first of them opened with a welcome by the mayor of Monarch. The pastor -of the First Christian Church of Monarch, a large man with a long damp frontal -lock, informed God that the real-estate men were here now. - -The venerable Minnemagantic realtor, Major Carlton Tuke, read a paper in which -he denounced cooperative stores. William A. Larkin of Eureka gave a comforting -prognosis of "The Prospects for Increased Construction," and reminded them -that plate-glass prices were two points lower. - -The convention was on. - -The delegates were entertained, incessantly and firmly. The Monarch Chamber of -Commerce gave them a banquet, and the Manufacturers' Association an afternoon -reception, at which a chrysanthemum was presented to each of the ladies, and -to each of the men a leather bill-fold inscribed "From Monarch the Mighty -Motor Mart." - -Mrs. Crosby Knowlton, wife of the manufacturer of Fleetwing Automobiles, -opened her celebrated Italian garden and served tea. Six hundred real-estate -men and wives ambled down the autumnal paths. Perhaps three hundred of them -were quietly inconspicuous; perhaps three hundred vigorously exclaimed, "This -is pretty slick, eh?" surreptitiously picked the late asters and concealed -them in their pockets, and tried to get near enough to Mrs. Knowlton to shake -her lovely hand. Without request, the Zenith delegates (except Rountree) -gathered round a marble dancing nymph and sang "Here we come, the fellows from -Zenith, the Zip Citee." - -It chanced that all the delegates from Pioneer belonged to the Brotherly and -Protective Order of Elks, and they produced an enormous banner lettered: "B. -P. O. E.--Best People on Earth--Boost Pioneer, Oh Eddie." Nor was Galop de -Vache, the state capital, to be slighted. The leader of the Galop de Vache -delegation was a large, reddish, roundish man, but active. He took off his -coat, hurled his broad black felt hat on the ground, rolled up his sleeves, -climbed upon the sundial, spat, and bellowed: - -"We'll tell the world, and the good lady who's giving the show this afternoon, -that the bonniest burg in this man's state is Galop de Vache. You boys can -talk about your zip, but jus' lemme murmur that old Galop has the largest -proportion of home-owning citizens in the state; and when folks own their -homes, they ain't starting labor-troubles, and they're raising kids instead of -raising hell! Galop de Vache! The town for homey folks! The town that eats -'em alive oh, Bosco! We'll--tell--the--world!" - -The guests drove off; the garden shivered into quiet. But Mrs. Crosby Knowlton -sighed as she looked at a marble seat warm from five hundred summers of -Amalfi. On the face of a winged sphinx which supported it some one had drawn -a mustache in lead-pencil. Crumpled paper napkins were dumped among the -Michaelmas daisies. On the walk, like shredded lovely flesh, were the petals -of the last gallant rose. Cigarette stubs floated in the goldfish pool, -trailing an evil stain as they swelled and disintegrated, and beneath the -marble seat, the fragments carefully put together, was a smashed teacup. - - -VI - -As he rode back to the hotel Babbitt reflected, "Myra would have enjoyed all -this social agony." For himself he cared less for the garden party than for -the motor tours which the Monarch Chamber of Commerce had arranged. -Indefatigably he viewed water-reservoirs, suburban trolley-stations, and -tanneries. He devoured the statistics which were given to him, and marveled -to his roommate, W. A. Rogers, "Of course this town isn't a patch on Zenith; -it hasn't got our outlook and natural resources; but did you know--I nev' did -till to-day--that they manufactured seven hundred and sixty-three million feet -of lumber last year? What d' you think of that!" - -He was nervous as the time for reading his paper approached. When he stood on -the low platform before the convention, he trembled and saw only a purple -haze. But he was in earnest, and when he had finished the formal paper he -talked to them, his hands in his pockets, his spectacled face a flashing disk, -like a plate set up on edge in the lamplight. They shouted "That's the -stuff!" and in the discussion afterward they referred with impressiveness to -"our friend and brother, Mr. George F. Babbitt." He had in fifteen minutes -changed from a minor delegate to a personage almost as well known as that -diplomat of business, Cecil Rountree. After the meeting, delegates from all -over the state said, "Hower you, Brother Babbitt?" Sixteen complete strangers -called him "George," and three men took him into corners to confide, "Mighty -glad you had the courage to stand up and give the Profession a real boost. Now -I've always maintained--" - -Next morning, with tremendous casualness, Babbitt asked the girl at the hotel -news-stand for the newspapers from Zenith. There was nothing in the Press, -but in the Advocate-Times, on the third page--He gasped. They had printed his -picture and a half-column account. The heading was "Sensation at Annual -Land-men's Convention. G. F. Babbitt, Prominent Ziptown Realtor, Keynoter in -Fine Address." - -He murmured reverently, "I guess some of the folks on Floral Heights will sit -up and take notice now, and pay a, little attention to old Georgie!" - - -VII - -It was the last meeting. The delegations were presenting the claims of their -several cities to the next year's convention. Orators were announcing that -"Galop de Vache, the Capital City, the site of Kremer College and of the -Upholtz Knitting Works, is the recognized center of culture and high-class -enterprise;" and that "Hamburg, the Big Little City with the Logical Location, -where every man is open-handed and every woman a heaven-born hostess, throws -wide to you her hospitable gates." - -In the midst of these more diffident invitations, the golden doors of the -ballroom opened with a blatting of trumpets, and a circus parade rolled in. -It was composed of the Zenith brokers, dressed as cowpunchers, bareback -riders, Japanese jugglers. At the head was big Warren Whitby, in the bearskin -and gold-and-crimson coat of a drum-major. Behind him, as a clown, beating a -bass drum, extraordinarily happy and noisy, was Babbitt. - -Warren Whitby leaped on the platform, made merry play with his baton, and -observed, "Boyses and girlses, the time has came to get down to cases. A -dyed-in-the-wool Zenithite sure loves his neighbors, but we've made up our -minds to grab this convention off our neighbor burgs like we've grabbed the -condensed-milk business and the paper-box business and--" - -J. Harry Barmhill, the convention chairman, hinted, "We're grateful to you, -Mr. Uh, but you must give the other boys a chance to hand in their bids now." - -A fog-horn voice blared, "In Eureka we'll promise free motor rides through the -prettiest country--" - -Running down the aisle, clapping his hands, a lean bald young man cried, "I'm -from Sparta! Our Chamber of Commerce has wired me they've set aside eight -thousand dollars, in real money, for the entertainment of the convention!" - -A clerical-looking man rose to clamor, "Money talks! Move we accept the bid -from Sparta!" - -It was accepted. - - -VIII - -The Committee on Resolutions was reporting. They said that Whereas Almighty -God in his beneficent mercy had seen fit to remove to a sphere of higher -usefulness some thirty-six realtors of the state the past year, Therefore it -was the sentiment of this convention assembled that they were sorry God had -done it, and the secretary should be, and hereby was, instructed to spread -these resolutions on the minutes, and to console the bereaved families by -sending them each a copy. - -A second resolution authorized the president of the S.A.R.E.B. to spend -fifteen thousand dollars in lobbying for sane tax measures in the State -Legislature. This resolution had a good deal to say about Menaces to Sound -Business and clearing the Wheels of Progress from ill-advised and shortsighted -obstacles. - -The Committee on Committees reported, and with startled awe Babbitt learned -that he had been appointed a member of the Committee on Torrens Titles. - -He rejoiced, "I said it was going to be a great year! Georgie, old son, you -got big things ahead of you! You're a natural-born orator and a good mixer -and--Zowie!" - - -IX - -There was no formal entertainment provided for the last evening. Babbitt had -planned to go home, but that afternoon the Jered Sassburgers of Pioneer -suggested that Babbitt and W. A. Rogers have tea with them at the Catalpa Inn. - -Teas were not unknown to Babbitt--his wife and he earnestly attended them at -least twice a year--but they were sufficiently exotic to make him feel -important. He sat at a glass-covered table in the Art Room of the Inn, with -its painted rabbits, mottoes lettered on birch bark, and waitresses being -artistic in Dutch caps; he ate insufficient lettuce sandwiches, and was lively -and naughty with Mrs. Sassburger, who was as smooth and large-eyed as a -cloak-model. Sassburger and he had met two days before, so they were calling -each other "Georgie" and "Sassy." - -Sassburger said prayerfully, "Say, boys, before you go, seeing this is the -last chance, I've GOT IT, up in my room, and Miriam here is the best little -mixelogist in the Stati Unidos like us Italians say." - -With wide flowing gestures, Babbitt and Rogers followed the Sassburgers to -their room. Mrs. Sassburger shrieked, "Oh, how terrible!" when she saw that -she had left a chemise of sheer lavender crepe on the bed. She tucked it into -a bag, while Babbitt giggled, "Don't mind us; we're a couple o' little -divvils!" - -Sassburger telephoned for ice, and the bell-boy who brought it said, -prosaically and unprompted, "Highball glasses or cocktail?" Miriam Sassburger -mixed the cocktails in one of those dismal, nakedly white water-pitchers which -exist only in hotels. When they had finished the first round she proved by -intoning "Think you boys could stand another--you got a dividend coming" that, -though she was but a woman, she knew the complete and perfect rite of -cocktail-drinking. - -Outside, Babbitt hinted to Rogers, "Say, W. A., old rooster, it comes over me -that I could stand it if we didn't go back to the lovin' wives, this handsome -ABEND, but just kind of stayed in Monarch and threw a party, heh?" - -"George, you speak with the tongue of wisdom and sagashiteriferousness. El -Wing's wife has gone on to Pittsburg. Let's see if we can't gather him in." - -At half-past seven they sat in their room, with Elbert Wing and two up-state -delegates. Their coats were off, their vests open, their faces red, their -voices emphatic. They were finishing a bottle of corrosive bootlegged whisky -and imploring the bell-boy, "Say, son, can you get us some more of this -embalming fluid?" They were smoking large cigars and dropping ashes and stubs -on the carpet. With windy guffaws they were telling stories. They were, in -fact, males in a happy state of nature. - -Babbitt sighed, "I don't know how it strikes you hellions, but personally I -like this busting loose for a change, and kicking over a couple of mountains -and climbing up on the North Pole and waving the aurora borealis around." - -The man from Sparta, a grave, intense youngster, babbled, "Say! I guess I'm -as good a husband as the run of the mill, but God, I do get so tired of going -home every evening, and nothing to see but the movies. That's why I go out and -drill with the National Guard. I guess I got the nicest little wife in my -burg, but--Say! Know what I wanted to do as a kid? Know what I wanted to do? -Wanted to be a big chemist. Tha's what I wanted to do. But Dad chased me out -on the road selling kitchenware, and here I'm settled down--settled for -LIFE--not a chance! Oh, who the devil started this funeral talk? How 'bout -'nother lil drink? 'And a-noth-er drink wouldn' do 's 'ny harmmmmmmm.' " - -"Yea. Cut the sob-stuff," said W. A. Rogers genially. "You boys know I'm the -village songster? Come on nowsing up: - - Said the old Obadiah to the young Obadiah, 'I am dry, Obadiah, I am -dry.' Said the young Obadiah to the old Obadiah, 'So am I, Obadiah, -so am I.'" - - -X - -They had dinner in the Moorish Grillroom of the Hotel Sedgwick. Somewhere, -somehow, they seemed to have gathered in two other comrades: a manufacturer of -fly-paper and a dentist. They all drank whisky from tea-cups, and they were -humorous, and never listened to one another, except when W. A. Rogers "kidded" -the Italian waiter. - -"Say, Gooseppy," he said innocently, "I want a couple o' fried elephants' -ears." - -"Sorry, sir, we haven't any." - -"Huh? No elephants' ears? What do you know about that!" Rogers turned to -Babbitt. "Pedro says the elephants' ears are all out!" - -"Well, I'll be switched!" said the man from Sparta, with difficulty hiding his -laughter. - -"Well, in that case, Carlo, just bring me a hunk o' steak and a couple o' -bushels o' French fried potatoes and some peas," Rogers went on. "I suppose -back in dear old sunny It' the Eyetalians get their fresh garden peas out of -the can." - -"No, sir, we have very nice peas in Italy." - -"Is that a fact! Georgie, do you hear that? They get their fresh garden peas -out of the garden, in Italy! By golly, you live and learn, don't you, -Antonio, you certainly do live and learn, if you live long enough and keep -your strength. All right, Garibaldi, just shoot me in that steak, with about -two printers'-reams of French fried spuds on the promenade deck, -comprehenez-vous, Michelovitch Angeloni?" - -Afterward Elbert Wing admired, "Gee, you certainly did have that poor Dago -going, W. A. He couldn't make you out at all!" - -In the Monarch Herald, Babbitt found an advertisement which he read aloud, to -applause and laughter: - -Old Colony Theatre - - Shake the Old Dogs to the WROLLICKING WRENS The bonniest bevy of beauteous -bathing babes in burlesque. Pete Menutti and his Oh, Gee, Kids. - -This is the straight steer, Benny, the painless chicklets of the Wrollicking -Wrens are the cuddlingest bunch that ever hit town. Steer the feet, get the -card board, and twist the pupils to the PDQest show ever. You will get 111% -on your kale in this fun-fest. The Calroza Sisters are sure some lookers and -will give you a run for your gelt. Jock Silbersteen is one of the pepper lads -and slips you a dose of real laughter. Shoot the up and down to Jackson and -West for graceful tappers. They run 1-2 under the wire. Provin and Adams will -blow the blues in their laugh skit "Hootch Mon!" Something doing, boys. -Listen to what the Hep Bird twitters. - - -"Sounds like a juicy show to me. Let's all take it in," said Babbitt. - -But they put off departure as long as they could. They were safe while they -sat here, legs firmly crossed under the table, but they felt unsteady; they -were afraid of navigating the long and slippery floor of the grillroom under -the eyes of the other guests and the too-attentive waiters. - -When they did venture, tables got in their way, and they sought to cover -embarrassment by heavy jocularity at the coatroom. As the girl handed out -their hats, they smiled at her, and hoped that she, a cool and expert judge, -would feel that they were gentlemen. They croaked at one another, "Who owns -the bum lid?" and "You take a good one, George; I'll take what's left," and to -the check-girl they stammered, "Better come along, sister! High, wide, and -fancy evening ahead!" All of them tried to tip her, urging one another, "No! -Wait! Here! I got it right here!" Among them, they gave her three dollars. - - -XI - -Flamboyantly smoking cigars they sat in a box at the burlesque show, their -feet up on the rail, while a chorus of twenty daubed, worried, and -inextinguishably respectable grandams swung their legs in the more elementary -chorus-evolutions, and a Jewish comedian made vicious fun of Jews. In the -entr'actes they met other lone delegates. A dozen of them went in taxicabs out -to Bright Blossom Inn, where the blossoms were made of dusty paper festooned -along a room low and stinking, like a cow-stable no longer wisely used. - -Here, whisky was served openly, in glasses. Two or three clerks, who on -pay-day longed to be taken for millionaires, sheepishly danced with -telephone-girls and manicure-girls in the narrow space between the tables. -Fantastically whirled the professionals, a young man in sleek evening-clothes -and a slim mad girl in emerald silk, with amber hair flung up as jaggedly as -flames. Babbitt tried to dance with her. He shuffled along the floor, too -bulky to be guided, his steps unrelated to the rhythm of the jungle music, and -in his staggering he would have fallen, had she not held him with supple -kindly strength. He was blind and deaf from prohibition-era alcohol; he could -not see the tables, the faces. But he was overwhelmed by the girl and her -young pliant warmth. - -When she had firmly returned him to his group, he remembered, by a connection -quite untraceable, that his mother's mother had been Scotch, and with head -thrown back, eyes closed, wide mouth indicating ecstasy, he sang, very slowly -and richly, "Loch Lomond." - -But that was the last of his mellowness and jolly companionship. The man from -Sparta said he was a "bum singer," and for ten minutes Babbitt quarreled with -him, in a loud, unsteady, heroic indignation. They called for drinks till the -manager insisted that the place was closed. All the while Babbitt felt a hot -raw desire for more brutal amusements. When W. A. Rogers drawled, "What say we -go down the line and look over the girls?" he agreed savagely. Before they -went, three of them secretly made appointments with the professional dancing -girl, who agreed "Yes, yes, sure, darling" to everything they said, and -amiably forgot them. - -As they drove back through the outskirts of Monarch, down streets of small -brown wooden cottages of workmen, characterless as cells, as they rattled -across warehouse-districts which by drunken night seemed vast and perilous, as -they were borne toward the red lights and violent automatic pianos and the -stocky women who simpered, Babbitt was frightened. He wanted to leap from the -taxicab, but all his body was a murky fire, and he groaned, "Too late to quit -now," and knew that he did not want to quit. - -There was, they felt, one very humorous incident on the way. A broker from -Minnemagantic said, "Monarch is a lot sportier than Zenith. You Zenith -tightwads haven't got any joints like these here." Babbitt raged, "That's a -dirty lie! Snothin' you can't find in Zenith. Believe me, we got more houses -and hootch-parlors an' all kinds o' dives than any burg in the state." - -He realized they were laughing at him; he desired to fight; and forgot it in -such musty unsatisfying experiments as he had not known since college. - -In the morning, when he returned to Zenith, his desire for rebellion was -partly satisfied. He had retrograded to a shamefaced contentment. He was -irritable. He did not smile when W. A. Rogers complained, "Ow, what a head! -I certainly do feel like the wrath of God this morning. Say! I know what was -the trouble! Somebody went and put alcohol in my booze last night." - -Babbitt's excursion was never known to his family, nor to any one in Zenith -save Rogers and Wing. It was not officially recognized even by himself. If it -had any consequences, they have not been discovered. - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -THIS autumn a Mr. W. G. Harding, of Marion, Ohio, was appointed President of -the United States, but Zenith was less interested in the national campaign -than in the local election. Seneca Doane, though he was a lawyer and a -graduate of the State University, was candidate for mayor of Zenith on an -alarming labor ticket. To oppose him the Democrats and Republicans united on -Lucas Prout, a mattress-manufacturer with a perfect record for sanity. Mr. -Prout was supported by the banks, the Chamber of Commerce, all the decent -newspapers, and George F. Babbitt. - -Babbitt was precinct-leader on Floral Heights, but his district was safe and -he longed for stouter battling. His convention paper had given him the -beginning of a reputation for oratory, so the Republican-Democratic Central -Committee sent him to the Seventh Ward and South Zenith, to address small -audiences of workmen and clerks, and wives uneasy with their new votes. He -acquired a fame enduring for weeks. Now and then a reporter was present at -one of his meetings, and the headlines (though they were not very large) -indicated that George F. Babbitt had addressed Cheering Throng, and -Distinguished Man of Affairs had pointed out the Fallacies of Doane. Once, in -the rotogravure section of the Sunday Advocate-Times, there was a photograph -of Babbitt and a dozen other business men, with the caption "Leaders of Zenith -Finance and Commerce Who Back Prout." - -He deserved his glory. He was an excellent campaigner. He had faith; he was -certain that if Lincoln were alive, he would be electioneering for Mr. W. G. -Harding--unless he came to Zenith and electioneered for Lucas Prout. He did -not confuse audiences by silly subtleties; Prout represented honest industry, -Seneca Doane represented whining laziness, and you could take your choice. -With his broad shoulders and vigorous voice, he was obviously a Good Fellow; -and, rarest of all, he really liked people. He almost liked common workmen. -He wanted them to be well paid, and able to afford high rents--though, -naturally, they must not interfere with the reasonable profits of -stockholders. Thus nobly endowed, and keyed high by the discovery that he was -a natural orator, he was popular with audiences, and he raged through the -campaign, renowned not only in the Seventh and Eighth Wards but even in parts -of the Sixteenth. - - -II - -Crowded in his car, they came driving up to Turnverein Hall, South -Zenith--Babbitt, his wife, Verona, Ted, and Paul and Zilla Riesling. The hall -was over a delicatessen shop, in a street banging with trolleys and smelling -of onions and gasoline and fried fish. A new appreciation of Babbitt filled -all of them, including Babbitt. - -"Don't know how you keep it up, talking to three bunches in one evening. Wish -I had your strength," said Paul; and Ted exclaimed to Verona, "The old man -certainly does know how to kid these roughnecks along!" - -Men in black sateen shirts, their faces new-washed but with a hint of grime -under their eyes, were loitering on the broad stairs up to the hall. Babbitt's -party politely edged through them and into the whitewashed room, at the front -of which was a dais with a red-plush throne and a pine altar painted watery -blue, as used nightly by the Grand Masters and Supreme Potentates of -innumerable lodges. The hall was full. As Babbitt pushed through the fringe -standing at the back, he heard the precious tribute, "That's him!" The -chairman bustled down the center aisle with an impressive, "The speaker? All -ready, sir! Uh--let's see--what was the name, sir?" - -Then Babbitt slid into a sea of eloquence: - -"Ladies and gentlemen of the Sixteenth Ward, there is one who cannot be with -us here to-night, a man than whom there is no more stalwart Trojan in all the -political arena--I refer to our leader, the Honorable Lucas Prout, -standard-bearer of the city and county of Zenith. Since he is not here, I -trust that you will bear with me if, as a friend and neighbor, as one who is -proud to share with you the common blessing of being a resident of the great -city of Zenith, I tell you in all candor, honesty, and sincerity how the -issues of this critical campaign appear to one plain man of business--to one -who, brought up to the blessings of poverty and of manual labor, has, even -when Fate condemned him to sit at a desk, yet never forgotten how it feels, by -heck, to be up at five-thirty and at the factory with the ole dinner-pail in -his hardened mitt when the whistle blew at seven, unless the owner sneaked in -ten minutes on us and blew it early! (Laughter.) To come down to the basic and -fundamental issues of this campaign, the great error, insincerely promulgated -by Seneca Doane--" - -There were workmen who jeered--young cynical workmen, for the most part -foreigners, Jews, Swedes, Irishmen, Italians--but the older men, the patient, -bleached, stooped carpenters and mechanics, cheered him; and when he worked up -to his anecdote of Lincoln their eyes were wet. - -Modestly, busily, he hurried out of the hall on delicious applause, and sped -off to his third audience of the evening. "Ted, you better drive," he said. -"Kind of all in after that spiel. Well, Paul, how'd it go? Did I get 'em?" - -"Bully! Corking! You had a lot of pep." - -Mrs. Babbitt worshiped, "Oh, it was fine! So clear and interesting, and such -nice ideas. When I hear you orating I realize I don't appreciate how -profoundly you think and what a splendid brain and vocabulary you have. -Just--splendid." But Verona was irritating. "Dad," she worried, "how do you -know that public ownership of utilities and so on and so forth will always be -a failure?" - -Mrs. Babbitt reproved, "Rone, I should think you could see and realize that -when your father's all worn out with orating, it's no time to expect him to -explain these complicated subjects. I'm sure when he's rested he'll be glad to -explain it to you. Now let's all be quiet and give Papa a chance to get ready -for his next speech. Just think! Right now they're gathering in Maccabee -Temple, and WAITING for us!" - - -III - -Mr. Lucas Prout and Sound Business defeated Mr. Seneca Doane and Class Rule, -and Zenith was again saved. Babbitt was offered several minor appointments to -distribute among poor relations, but he preferred advance information about -the extension of paved highways, and this a grateful administration gave to -him. Also, he was one of only nineteen speakers at the dinner with which the -Chamber of Commerce celebrated the victory of righteousness. - -His reputation for oratory established, at the dinner of the Zenith Real -Estate Board he made the Annual Address. The Advocate-Times reported this -speech with unusual fullness: - -"One of the livest banquets that has recently been pulled off occurred last -night in the annual Get-Together Fest of the Zenith Real Estate Board, held in -the Venetian Ball Room of the O'Hearn House. Mine host Gil O'Hearn had as -usual done himself proud and those assembled feasted on such an assemblage of -plates as could be rivaled nowhere west of New York, if there, and washed down -the plenteous feed with the cup which inspired but did not inebriate in the -shape of cider from the farm of Chandler Mott, president of the board and who -acted as witty and efficient chairman. - -"As Mr. Mott was suffering from slight infection and sore throat, G. F. -Babbitt made the principal talk. Besides outlining the progress of Torrensing -real estate titles, Mr. Babbitt spoke in part as follows: - -"'In rising to address you, with my impromptu speech carefully tucked into my -vest pocket, I am reminded of the story of the two Irishmen, Mike and Pat, who -were riding on the Pullman. Both of them, I forgot to say, were sailors in -the Navy. It seems Mike had the lower berth and by and by he heard a terrible -racket from the upper, and when he yelled up to find out what the trouble was, -Pat answered, "Shure an' bedad an' how can I ever get a night's sleep at all, -at all? I been trying to get into this darned little hammock ever since eight -bells!" - -"'Now, gentlemen, standing up here before you, I feel a good deal like Pat, -and maybe after I've spieled along for a while, I may feel so darn small that -I'll be able to crawl into a Pullman hammock with no trouble at all, at all! - -"'Gentlemen, it strikes me that each year at this annual occasion when friend -and foe get together and lay down the battle-ax and let the waves of -good-fellowship waft them up the flowery slopes of amity, it behooves us, -standing together eye to eye and shoulder to shoulder as fellow-citizens of -the best city in the world, to consider where we are both as regards ourselves -and the common weal. - -"'It is true that even with our 361,000, or practically 362,000, population, -there are, by the last census, almost a score of larger cities in the United -States. But, gentlemen, if by the next census we do not stand at least tenth, -then I'll be the first to request any knocker to remove my shirt and to eat -the same, with the compliments of G. F. Babbitt, Esquire! It may be true that -New York, Chicago, and Philadelphia will continue to keep ahead of us in size. -But aside from these three cities, which are notoriously so overgrown that no -decent white man, nobody who loves his wife and kiddies and God's good -out-o'doors and likes to shake the hand of his neighbor in greeting, would -want to live in them--and let me tell you right here and now, I wouldn't trade -a high-class Zenith acreage development for the whole length and breadth of -Broadway or State Street!--aside from these three, it's evident to any one -with a head for facts that Zenith is the finest example of American life and -prosperity to be found anywhere. - -"'I don't mean to say we're perfect. We've got a lot to do in the way of -extending the paving of motor boulevards, for, believe me, it's the fellow -with four to ten thousand a year, say, and an automobile and a nice little -family in a bungalow on the edge of town, that makes the wheels of progress go -round! - -"'That's the type of fellow that's ruling America to-day; in fact, it's the -ideal type to which the entire world must tend, if there's to be a decent, -well-balanced, Christian, go-ahead future for this little old planet! Once in -a while I just naturally sit back and size up this Solid American Citizen, -with a whale of a lot of satisfaction. - -"'Our Ideal Citizen--I picture him first and foremost as being busier than a -bird-dog, not wasting a lot of good time in day-dreaming or going to sassiety -teas or kicking about things that are none of his business, but putting the -zip into some store or profession or art. At night he lights up a good cigar, -and climbs into the little old 'bus, and maybe cusses the carburetor, and -shoots out home. He mows the lawn, or sneaks in some practice putting, and -then he's ready for dinner. After dinner he tells the kiddies a story, or -takes the family to the movies, or plays a few fists of bridge, or reads the -evening paper, and a chapter or two of some good lively Western novel if he -has a taste for literature, and maybe the folks next-door drop in and they sit -and visit about their friends and the topics of the day. Then he goes happily -to bed, his conscience clear, having contributed his mite to the prosperity of -the city and to his own bank-account. - -"'In politics and religion this Sane Citizen is the canniest man on earth; and -in the arts he invariably has a natural taste which makes him pick out the -best, every time. In no country in the world will you find so many -reproductions of the Old Masters and of well-known paintings on parlor walls -as in these United States. No country has anything like our number of -phonographs, with not only dance records and comic but also the best operas, -such as Verdi, rendered by the world's highest-paid singers. - -"'In other countries, art and literature are left to a lot of shabby bums -living in attics and feeding on booze and spaghetti, but in America the -successful writer or picture-painter is indistinguishable from any other -decent business man; and I, for one, am only too glad that the man who has the -rare skill to season his message with interesting reading matter and who shows -both purpose and pep in handling his literary wares has a chance to drag down -his fifty thousand bucks a year, to mingle with the biggest executives on -terms of perfect equality, and to show as big a house and as swell a car as -any Captain of Industry! But, mind you, it's the appreciation of the Regular -Guy who I have been depicting which has made this possible, and you got to -hand as much credit to him as to the authors themselves. - -"'Finally, but most important, our Standardized Citizen, even if he is a -bachelor, is a lover of the Little Ones, a supporter of the hearthstone which -is the basic foundation of our civilization, first, last, and all the time, -and the thing that most distinguishes us from the decayed nations of Europe. - -"'I have never yet toured Europe--and as a matter of fact, I don't know that I -care to such an awful lot, as long as there's our own mighty cities and -mountains to be seen--but, the way I figure it out, there must be a good many -of our own sort of folks abroad. Indeed, one of the most enthusiastic -Rotarians I ever met boosted the tenets of one-hundred-per-cent pep in a burr -that smacked o' bonny Scutlond and all ye bonny braes o' Bobby Burns. But -same time, one thing that distinguishes us from our good brothers, the -hustlers over there, is that they're willing to take a lot off the snobs and -journalists and politicians, while the modern American business man knows how -to talk right up for himself, knows how to make it good and plenty clear that -he intends to run the works. He doesn't have to call in some highbrow -hired-man when it's necessary for him to answer the crooked critics of the -sane and efficient life. He's not dumb, like the old-fashioned merchant. He's -got a vocabulary and a punch. - -"'With all modesty, I want to stand up here as a representative business man -and gently whisper, "Here's our kind of folks! Here's the specifications of -the Standardized American Citizen! Here's the new generation of Americans: -fellows with hair on their chests and smiles in their eyes and adding-machines -in their offices. We're not doing any boasting, but we like ourselves -first-rate, and if you don't like us, look out--better get under cover before -the cyclone hits town!" - -"'So! In my clumsy way I have tried to sketch the Real He-man, the fellow with -Zip and Bang. And it's because Zenith has so large a proportion of such men -that it's the most stable, the greatest of our cities. New York also has its -thousands of Real Folks, but New York is cursed with unnumbered foreigners. So -are Chicago and San Francisco. Oh, we have a golden roster of cities--Detroit -and Cleveland with their renowned factories, Cincinnati with its great -machine-tool and soap products, Pittsburg and Birmingham with their steel, -Kansas City and Minneapolis and Omaha that open their bountiful gates on the -bosom of the ocean-like wheatlands, and countless other magnificent -sister-cities, for, by the last census, there were no less than sixty-eight -glorious American burgs with a population of over one hundred thousand! And -all these cities stand together for power and purity, and against foreign -ideas and communism--Atlanta with Hartford, Rochester with Denver, Milwaukee -with Indianapolis, Los Angeles with Scranton, Portland, Maine, with Portland, -Oregon. A good live wire from Baltimore or Seattle or Duluth is the -twin-brother of every like fellow booster from Buffalo or Akron, Fort Worth or -Oskaloosa! - -"'But it's here in Zenith, the home for manly men and womanly women and bright -kids, that you find the largest proportion of these Regular Guys, and that's -what sets it in a class by itself; that's why Zenith will be remembered in -history as having set the pace for a civilization that shall endure when the -old time-killing ways are gone forever and the day of earnest efficient -endeavor shall have dawned all round the world! - -"'Some time I hope folks will quit handing all the credit to a lot of -moth-eaten, mildewed, out-of-date, old, European dumps, and give proper credit -to the famous Zenith spirit, that clean fighting determination to win Success -that has made the little old Zip City celebrated in every land and clime, -wherever condensed milk and pasteboard cartons are known! Believe me, the -world has fallen too long for these worn-out countries that aren't producing -anything but bootblacks and scenery and booze, that haven't got one bathroom -per hundred people, and that don't know a loose-leaf ledger from a slip-cover; -and it's just about time for some Zenithite to get his back up and holler for -a show-down! - -"'I tell you, Zenith and her sister-cities are producing a new type of -civilization. There are many resemblances between Zenith and these other -burgs, and I'm darn glad of it! The extraordinary, growing, and sane -standardization of stores, offices, streets, hotels, clothes, and newspapers -throughout the United States shows how strong and enduring a type is ours. - -"'I always like to remember a piece that Chum Frink wrote for the newspapers -about his lecture-tours. It is doubtless familiar to many of you, but if you -will permit me, I'll take a chance and read it. It's one of the classic -poems, like "If" by Kipling, or Ella Wheeler Wilcox's "The Man Worth While"; -and I always carry this clipping of it in my note-book: - - -"When I am out upon the road, a poet with a pedler's load I mostly sing a -hearty song, and take a chew and hike along, a-handing out my samples fine of -Cheero Brand of sweet sunshine, and peddling optimistic pokes and stable lines -of japes and jokes to Lyceums and other folks, to Rotarys, Kiwanis' Clubs, and -feel I ain't like other dubs. And then old Major Silas Satan, a brainy cuss -who's always waitin', he gives his tail a lively quirk, and gets in quick his -dirty work. He fills me up with mullygrubs; my hair the backward way he rubs; -he makes me lonelier than a hound, on Sunday when the folks ain't round. And -then b' gosh, I would prefer to never be a lecturer, a-ridin' round in classy -cars and smoking fifty-cent cigars, and never more I want to roam; I simply -want to be back home, a-eatin' flap jacks, hash, and ham, with folks who savvy -whom I am! - -"But when I get that lonely spell, I simply seek the best hotel, no matter in -what town I be--St. Paul, Toledo, or K.C., in Washington, Schenectady, in -Louisville or Albany. And at that inn it hits my dome that I again am right -at home. If I should stand a lengthy spell in front of that first-class hotel, -that to the drummers loves to cater, across from some big film theayter; if I -should look around and buzz, and wonder in what town I was, I swear that I -could never tell! For all the crowd would be so swell, in just the same fine -sort of jeans they wear at home, and all the queens with spiffy bonnets on -their beans, and all the fellows standing round a-talkin' always, I'll be -bound, the same good jolly kind of guff, 'bout autos, politics and stuff and -baseball players of renown that Nice Guys talk in my home town! - -"Then when I entered that hotel, I'd look around and say, "Well, well!" For -there would be the same news-stand, same magazines and candies grand, same -smokes of famous standard brand, I'd find at home, I'll tell! And when I saw -the jolly bunch come waltzing in for eats at lunch, and squaring up in natty -duds to platters large of French Fried spuds, why then I'd stand right up and -bawl, "I've never left my home at all!" And all replete I'd sit me down beside -some guy in derby brown upon a lobby chair of plush, and murmur to him in a -rush, "Hello, Bill, tell me, good old scout, how is your stock a-holdin' out?" -Then we'd be off, two solid pals, a-chatterin' like giddy gals of flivvers, -weather, home, and wives, lodge-brothers then for all our lives! So when Sam -Satan makes you blue, good friend, that's what I'd up and do, for in these -States where'er you roam, you never leave your home sweet home." - - -"'Yes, sir, these other burgs are our true partners in the great game of vital -living. But let's not have any mistake about this. I claim that Zenith is -the best partner and the fastest-growing partner of the whole caboodle. I -trust I may be pardoned if I give a few statistics to back up my claims. If -they are old stuff to any of you, yet the tidings of prosperity, like the good -news of the Bible, never become tedious to the ears of a real hustler, no -matter how oft the sweet story is told! Every intelligent person knows that -Zenith manufactures more condensed milk and evaporated cream, more paper -boxes, and more lighting-fixtures, than any other city in the United States, -if not in the world. But it is not so universally known that we also stand -second in the manufacture of package-butter, sixth in the giant realm of -motors and automobiles, and somewhere about third in cheese, leather findings, -tar roofing, breakfast food, and overalls! - -"'Our greatness, however, lies not alone in punchful prosperity but equally in -that public spirit, that forward-looking idealism and brotherhood, which has -marked Zenith ever since its foundation by the Fathers. We have a right, -indeed we have a duty toward our fair city, to announce broadcast the facts -about our high schools, characterized by their complete plants and the finest -school-ventilating systems in the country, bar none; our magnificent new -hotels and banks and the paintings and carved marble in their lobbies; and the -Second National Tower, the second highest business building in any inland city -in the entire country. When I add that we have an unparalleled number of miles -of paved streets, bathrooms vacuum cleaners, and all the other signs of -civilization; that our library and art museum are well supported and housed in -convenient and roomy buildings; that our park-system is more than up to par, -with its handsome driveways adorned with grass, shrubs, and statuary, then I -give but a hint of the all round unlimited greatness of Zenith! - -"'I believe, however, in keeping the best to the last. When I remind you that -we have one motor car for every five and seven-eighths persons in the city, -then I give a rock-ribbed practical indication of the kind of progress and -braininess which is synonymous with the name Zenith! - -"'But the way of the righteous is not all roses. Before I close I must call -your attention to a problem we have to face, this coming year. The worst -menace to sound government is not the avowed socialists but a lot of cowards -who work under cover--the long-haired gentry who call themselves "liberals" -and "radicals" and "non-partisan" and "intelligentsia" and God only knows how -many other trick names! Irresponsible teachers and professors constitute the -worst of this whole gang, and I am ashamed to say that several of them are on -the faculty of our great State University! The U. is my own Alma Mater, and I -am proud to be known as an alumni, but there are certain instructors there who -seem to think we ought to turn the conduct of the nation over to hoboes and -roustabouts. - -"'Those profs are the snakes to be scotched--they and all their milk-and-water -ilk! The American business man is generous to a fault. but one thing he does -demand of all teachers and lecturers and journalists: if we're going to pay -them our good money, they've got to help us by selling efficiency and whooping -it up for rational prosperity! And when it comes to these blab-mouth, -fault-finding, pessimistic, cynical University teachers, let me tell you that -during this golden coming year it's just as much our duty to bring influence -to have those cusses fired as it is to sell all the real estate and gather in -all the good shekels we can. - -"'Not till that is done will our sons and daughters see that the ideal of -American manhood and culture isn't a lot of cranks sitting around chewing the -rag about their Rights and their Wrongs, but a God-fearing, hustling, -successful, two-fisted Regular Guy, who belongs to some church with pep and -piety to it, who belongs to the Boosters or the Rotarians or the Kiwanis, to -the Elks or Moose or Red Men or Knights of Columbus or any one of a score of -organizations of good, jolly, kidding, laughing, sweating, upstanding, -lend-a-handing Royal Good Fellows, who plays hard and works hard, and whose -answer to his critics is a square-toed boot that'll teach the grouches and -smart alecks to respect the He-man and get out and root for Uncle Samuel, -U.S.A.!'" - - -IV - -Babbitt promised to become a recognized orator. He entertained a Smoker of -the Men's Club of the Chatham Road presbyterian Church with Irish, Jewish, and -Chinese dialect stories. - -But in nothing was he more clearly revealed as the Prominent Citizen than in -his lecture on "Brass Tacks Facts on Real Estate," as delivered before the -class in Sales Methods at the Zenith Y.M.C.A. - -The Advocate-Times reported the lecture so fully that Vergil Gunch said to -Babbitt, "You're getting to be one of the classiest spellbinders in town. -Seems 's if I couldn't pick up a paper without reading about your well-known -eloquence. All this guff ought to bring a lot of business into your office. -Good work! Keep it up!" - -"Go on, quit your kidding," said Babbitt feebly, but at this tribute from -Gunch, himself a man of no mean oratorical fame, he expanded with delight and -wondered how, before his vacation, he could have questioned the joys of being -a solid citizen. - - - -CHAPTER XV - -HIS march to greatness was not without disastrous stumbling. - -Fame did not bring the social advancement which the Babbitts deserved. They -were not asked to join the Tonawanda Country Club nor invited to the dances at -the Union. Himself, Babbitt fretted, he didn't "care a fat hoot for all these -highrollers, but the wife would kind of like to be Among Those Present." He -nervously awaited his university class-dinner and an evening of furious -intimacy with such social leaders as Charles McKelvey the millionaire -contractor, Max Kruger the banker, Irving Tate the tool-manufacturer, and -Adelbert Dobson the fashionable interior decorator. Theoretically he was -their friend, as he had been in college, and when he encountered them they -still called him "Georgie," but he didn't seem to encounter them often, and -they never invited him to dinner (with champagne and a butler) at their houses -on Royal Ridge. - -All the week before the class-dinner he thought of them. "No reason why we -shouldn't become real chummy now!" - - -II - -Like all true American diversions and spiritual outpourings, the dinner of the -men of the Class of 1896 was thoroughly organized. The dinner-committee -hammered like a sales-corporation. Once a week they sent out reminders: - - TICKLER NO. 3 - -Old man, are you going to be with us at the livest Friendship Feed the alumni -of the good old U have ever known? The alumnae of '08 turned out 60% strong. -Are we boys going to be beaten by a bunch of skirts? Come on, fellows, let's -work up some real genuine enthusiasm and all boost together for the snappiest -dinner yet! Elegant eats, short ginger-talks, and memories shared together of -the brightest, gladdest days of life. - - -The dinner was held in a private room at the Union Club. The club was a dingy -building, three pretentious old dwellings knocked together, and the -entrance-hall resembled a potato cellar, yet the Babbitt who was free of the -magnificence of the Athletic Club entered with embarrassment. He nodded to the -doorman, an ancient proud negro with brass buttons and a blue tail-coat, and -paraded through the hall, trying to look like a member. - -Sixty men had come to the dinner. They made islands and eddies in the hall; -they packed the elevator and the corners of the private dining-room. They -tried to be intimate and enthusiastic. They appeared to one another exactly as -they had in college--as raw youngsters whose present mustaches, baldnesses, -paunches, and wrinkles were but jovial disguises put on for the evening. "You -haven't changed a particle!" they marveled. The men whom they could not recall -they addressed, "Well, well, great to see you again, old man. What are -you--Still doing the same thing?" - -Some one was always starting a cheer or a college song, and it was always -thinning into silence. Despite their resolution to be democratic they divided -into two sets: the men with dress-clothes and the men without. Babbitt -(extremely in dress-clothes) went from one group to the other. Though he was, -almost frankly, out for social conquest, he sought Paul Riesling first. He -found him alone, neat and silent. - -Paul sighed, "I'm no good at this handshaking and 'well, look who's here' -bunk." - -"Rats now, Paulibus, loosen up and be a mixer! Finest bunch of boys on earth! -Say, you seem kind of glum. What's matter?" - -"Oh, the usual. Run-in with Zilla." - -"Come on! Let's wade in and forget our troubles." - -He kept Paul beside him, but worked toward the spot where Charles McKelvey -stood warming his admirers like a furnace. - -McKelvey had been the hero of the Class of '96; not only football captain and -hammer-thrower but debater, and passable in what the State University -considered scholarship. He had gone on, had captured the construction-company -once owned by the Dodsworths, best-known pioneer family of Zenith. He built -state capitols, skyscrapers, railway terminals. He was a heavy-shouldered, -big-chested man, but not sluggish. There was a quiet humor in his eyes, a -syrup-smooth quickness in his speech, which intimidated politicians and warned -reporters; and in his presence the most intelligent scientist or the most -sensitive artist felt thin-blooded, unworldly, and a little shabby. He was, -particularly when he was influencing legislatures or hiring labor-spies, very -easy and lovable and gorgeous. He was baronial; he was a peer in the rapidly -crystallizing American aristocracy, inferior only to the haughty Old Families. -(In Zenith, an Old Family is one which came to town before 1840.) His power -was the greater because he was not hindered by scruples, by either the vice or -the virtue of the older Puritan tradition. - -McKelvey was being placidly merry now with the great, the manufacturers and -bankers, the land-owners and lawyers and surgeons who had chauffeurs and went -to Europe. Babbitt squeezed among them. He liked McKelvey's smile as much as -the social advancement to be had from his favor. If in Paul's company he felt -ponderous and protective, with McKelvey he felt slight and adoring. - -He heard McKelvey say to Max Kruger, the banker, "Yes, we'll put up Sir Gerald -Doak." Babbitt's democratic love for titles became a rich relish. "You know, -he's one of the biggest iron-men in England, Max. Horribly well-off.... Why, -hello, old Georgie! Say, Max, George Babbitt is getting fatter than I am!" - -The chairman shouted, "Take your seats, fellows!" - -"Shall we make a move, Charley?" Babbitt said casually to McKelvey. - -"Right. Hello, Paul! How's the old fiddler? Planning to sit anywhere -special, George? Come on, let's grab some seats. Come on, Max. Georgie, I -read about your speeches in the campaign. Bully work!" - -After that, Babbitt would have followed him through fire. He was enormously -busy during the dinner, now bumblingly cheering Paul, now approaching McKelvey -with "Hear, you're going to build some piers in Brooklyn," now noting how -enviously the failures of the class, sitting by themselves in a weedy group, -looked up to him in his association with the nobility, now warming himself in -the Society Talk of McKelvey and Max Kruger. They spoke of a "jungle dance" -for which Mona Dodsworth had decorated her house with thousands of orchids. -They spoke, with an excellent imitation of casualness, of a dinner in -Washington at which McKelvey had met a Senator, a Balkan princess, and an -English major-general. McKelvey called the princess "Jenny," and let it be -known that he had danced with her. - -Babbitt was thrilled, but not so weighted with awe as to be silent. If he was -not invited by them to dinner, he was yet accustomed to talking with -bank-presidents, congressmen, and clubwomen who entertained poets. He was -bright and referential with McKelvey: - -"Say, Charley, juh remember in Junior year how we chartered a sea-going hack -and chased down to Riverdale, to the big show Madame Brown used to put on? -Remember how you beat up that hick constabule that tried to run us in, and we -pinched the pants-pressing sign and took and hung it on Prof. Morrison's door? -Oh, gosh, those were the days!" - -Those, McKelvey agreed, were the days. - -Babbitt had reached "It isn't the books you study in college but the -friendships you make that counts" when the men at head of the table broke into -song. He attacked McKelvey: - -"It's a shame, uh, shame to drift apart because our, uh, business activities -lie in different fields. I've enjoyed talking over the good old days. You and -Mrs. McKelvey must come to dinner some night." - -Vaguely, "Yes, indeed--" - -"Like to talk to you about the growth of real estate out beyond your -Grantsville warehouse. I might be able to tip you off to a thing or two, -possibly." - -"Splendid! We must have dinner together, Georgie. Just let me know. And it -will be a great pleasure to have your wife and you at the house," said -McKelvey, much less vaguely. - -Then the chairman's voice, that prodigious voice which once had roused them to -cheer defiance at rooters from Ohio or Michigan or Indiana, whooped, "Come on, -you wombats! All together in the long yell!" Babbitt felt that life would -never be sweeter than now, when he joined with Paul Riesling and the newly -recovered hero, McKelvey, in: - - Baaaaaattle-ax -Get an ax, -Bal-ax, -Get-nax, -Who, who? The U.! -Hooroo! - - -III - -The Babbitts invited the McKelveys to dinner, in early December, and the -McKelveys not only accepted but, after changing the date once or twice, -actually came. - -The Babbitts somewhat thoroughly discussed the details of the dinner, from the -purchase of a bottle of champagne to the number of salted almonds to be placed -before each person. Especially did they mention the matter of the other -guests. To the last Babbitt held out for giving Paul Riesling the benefit of -being with the McKelveys. "Good old Charley would like Paul and Verg Gunch -better than some highfalutin' Willy boy," he insisted, but Mrs. Babbitt -interrupted his observations with, "Yes--perhaps--I think I'll try to get some -Lynnhaven oysters," and when she was quite ready she invited Dr. J. T. Angus, -the oculist, and a dismally respectable lawyer named Maxwell, with their -glittering wives. - -Neither Angus nor Maxwell belonged to the Elks or to the Athletic Club; -neither of them had ever called Babbitt "brother" or asked his opinions on -carburetors. The only "human people" whom she invited, Babbitt raged, were -the Littlefields; and Howard Littlefield at times became so statistical that -Babbitt longed for the refreshment of Gunch's, "Well, old lemon-pie-face, -what's the good word?" - -Immediately after lunch Mrs. Babbitt began to set the table for the -seven-thirty dinner to the McKelveys, and Babbitt was, by order, home at four. -But they didn't find anything for him to do, and three times Mrs. Babbitt -scolded, "Do please try to keep out of the way!" He stood in the door of the -garage, his lips drooping, and wished that Littlefield or Sam Doppelbrau or -somebody would come along and talk to him. He saw Ted sneaking about the -corner of the house. - -"What's the matter, old man?" said Babbitt. - -"Is that you, thin, owld one? Gee, Ma certainly is on the warpath! I told her -Rone and I would jus' soon not be let in on the fiesta to-night, and she bit -me. She says I got to take a bath, too. But, say, the Babbitt men will be -some lookers to-night! Little Theodore in a dress-suit!" - -"The Babbitt men!" Babbitt liked the sound of it. He put his arm about the -boy's shoulder. He wished that Paul Riesling had a daughter, so that Ted -might marry her. "Yes, your mother is kind of rouncing round, all right," he -said, and they laughed together, and sighed together, and dutifully went in to -dress. - -The McKelveys were less than fifteen minutes late. - -Babbitt hoped that the Doppelbraus would see the McKelveys' limousine, and -their uniformed chauffeur, waiting in front. - -The dinner was well cooked and incredibly plentiful, and Mrs. Babbitt had -brought out her grandmother's silver candlesticks. Babbitt worked hard. He -was good. He told none of the jokes he wanted to tell. He listened to the -others. He started Maxwell off with a resounding, "Let's hear about your trip -to the Yellowstone." He was laudatory, extremely laudatory. He found -opportunities to remark that Dr. Angus was a benefactor to humanity, Maxwell -and Howard Littlefield profound scholars, Charles McKelvey an inspiration to -ambitious youth, and Mrs. McKelvey an adornment to the social circles of -Zenith, Washington, New York, Paris, and numbers of other places. - -But he could not stir them. It was a dinner without a soul. For no reason -that was clear to Babbitt, heaviness was over them and they spoke laboriously -and unwillingly. - -He concentrated on Lucille McKelvey, carefully not looking at her blanched -lovely shoulder and the tawny silken bared which supported her frock. - -"I suppose you'll be going to Europe pretty soon again, won't you?" he -invited. - -"I'd like awfully to run over to Rome for a few weeks." - -"I suppose you see a lot of pictures and music and curios and everything -there." - -"No, what I really go for is: there's a little trattoria on the Via della -Scrofa where you get the best fettuccine in the world." - -"Oh, I--Yes. That must be nice to try that. Yes." - -At a quarter to ten McKelvey discovered with profound regret that his wife had -a headache. He said blithely, as Babbitt helped him with his coat, "We must -lunch together some time, and talk over the old days." - -When the others had labored out, at half-past ten, Babbitt turned to his wife, -pleading, "Charley said he had a corking time and we must lunch--said they -wanted to have us up to the house for dinner before long." - -She achieved, "Oh, it's just been one of those quiet evenings that are often -so much more enjoyable than noisy parties where everybody talks at once and -doesn't really settle down to-nice quiet enjoyment." - -But from his cot on the sleeping-porch he heard her weeping, slowly, without -hope. - - -IV - -For a month they watched the social columns, and waited for a return -dinner-invitation. - -As the hosts of Sir Gerald Doak, the McKelveys were headlined all the week -after the Babbitts' dinner. Zenith ardently received Sir Gerald (who had come -to America to buy coal). The newspapers interviewed him on prohibition, -Ireland, unemployment, naval aviation, the rate of exchange, tea-drinking -versus whisky-drinking, the psychology of American women, and daily life as -lived by English county families. Sir Gerald seemed to have heard of all those -topics. The McKelveys gave him a Singhalese dinner, and Miss Elnora Pearl -Bates, society editor of the Advocate-Times, rose to her highest lark-note. -Babbitt read aloud at breakfast-table: - - -'Twixt the original and Oriental decorations, the strange and delicious food, -and the personalities both of the distinguished guests, the charming hostess -and the noted host, never has Zenith seen a more recherche affair than the -Ceylon dinner-dance given last evening by Mr. and Mrs. Charles McKelvey to Sir -Gerald Doak. Methought as we--fortunate one!--were privileged to view that -fairy and foreign scene, nothing at Monte Carlo or the choicest ambassadorial -sets of foreign capitals could be more lovely. It is not for nothing that -Zenith is in matters social rapidly becoming known as the choosiest inland -city in the country. - -Though he is too modest to admit it, Lord Doak gives a cachet to our smart -quartier such as it has not received since the ever-memorable visit of the -Earl of Sittingbourne. Not only is he of the British peerage, but he is also, -on dit, a leader of the British metal industries. As he comes from Nottingham, -a favorite haunt of Robin Hood, though now, we are informed by Lord Doak, a -live modern city of 275,573 inhabitants, and important lace as well as other -industries, we like to think that perhaps through his veins runs some of the -blood, both virile red and bonny blue, of that earlier lord o' the good -greenwood, the roguish Robin. - -The lovely Mrs. McKelvey never was more fascinating than last evening in her -black net gown relieved by dainty bands of silver and at her exquisite waist a -glowing cluster of Aaron Ward roses. - - -Babbitt said bravely, "I hope they don't invite us to meet this Lord Doak guy. -Darn sight rather just have a nice quiet little dinner with Charley and the -Missus." - -At the Zenith Athletic Club they discussed it amply. "I s'pose we'll have to -call McKelvey 'Lord Chaz' from now on," said Sidney Finkelstein. - -"It beats all get-out," meditated that man of data, Howard Littlefield, "how -hard it is for some people to get things straight. Here they call this fellow -'Lord Doak' when it ought to be 'Sir Gerald.' " - -Babbitt marvelled, "Is that a fact! Well, well! 'Sir Gerald,' eh? That's -what you call um, eh? Well, sir, I'm glad to know that." - -Later he informed his salesmen, "It's funnier 'n a goat the way some folks -that, just because they happen to lay up a big wad, go entertaining famous -foreigners, don't have any more idea 'n a rabbit how to address 'em so's to -make 'em feel at home!" - -That evening, as he was driving home, he passed McKelvey's limousine and saw -Sir Gerald, a large, ruddy, pop-eyed, Teutonic Englishman whose dribble of -yellow mustache gave him an aspect sad and doubtful. Babbitt drove on slowly, -oppressed by futility. He had a sudden, unexplained, and horrible conviction -that the McKelveys were laughing at him. - -He betrayed his depression by the violence with which he informed his wife, -"Folks that really tend to business haven't got the time to waste on a bunch -like the McKelveys. This society stuff is like any other hobby; if you devote -yourself to it, you get on. But I like to have a chance to visit with you and -the children instead of all this idiotic chasing round." - -They did not speak of the McKelveys again. - - -V - -It was a shame, at this worried time, to have to think about the Overbrooks. - -Ed Overbrook was a classmate of Babbitt who had been a failure. He had a large -family and a feeble insurance business out in the suburb of Dorchester. He -was gray and thin and unimportant. He had always been gray and thin and -unimportant. He was the person whom, in any group, you forgot to introduce, -then introduced with extra enthusiasm. He had admired Babbitt's -good-fellowship in college, had admired ever since his power in real estate, -his beautiful house and wonderful clothes. It pleased Babbitt, though it -bothered him with a sense of responsibility. At the class-dinner he had seen -poor Overbrook, in a shiny blue serge business-suit, being diffident in a -corner with three other failures. He had gone over and been cordial: "Why, -hello, young Ed! I hear you're writing all the insurance in Dorchester now. -Bully work!" - -They recalled the good old days when Overbrook used to write poetry. Overbrook -embarrassed him by blurting, "Say, Georgie, I hate to think of how we been -drifting apart. I wish you and Mrs. Babbitt would come to dinner some night." - -Babbitt boomed, "Fine! Sure! Just let me know. And the wife and I want to -have you at the house." He forgot it, but unfortunately Ed Overbrook did not. -Repeatedly he telephoned to Babbitt, inviting him to dinner. "Might as well go -and get it over," Babbitt groaned to his wife. "But don't it simply amaze you -the way the poor fish doesn't know the first thing about social etiquette? -Think of him 'phoning me, instead of his wife sitting down and writing us a -regular bid! Well, I guess we're stuck for it. That's the trouble with all -this class-brother hooptedoodle." - -He accepted Overbrook's next plaintive invitation, for an evening two weeks -off. A dinner two weeks off, even a family dinner, never seems so appalling, -till the two weeks have astoundingly disappeared and one comes dismayed to the -ambushed hour. They had to change the date, because of their own dinner to the -McKelveys, but at last they gloomily drove out to the Overbrooks' house in -Dorchester. - -It was miserable from the beginning. The Overbrooks had dinner at six-thirty, -while the Babbitts never dined before seven. Babbitt permitted himself to be -ten minutes late. "Let's make it as short as possible. I think we'll duck out -quick. I'll say I have to be at the office extra early to-morrow," he planned. - -The Overbrook house was depressing. It was the second story of a wooden -two-family dwelling; a place of baby-carriages, old hats hung in the hall, -cabbage-smell, and a Family Bible on the parlor table. Ed Overbrook and his -wife were as awkward and threadbare as usual, and the other guests were two -dreadful families whose names Babbitt never caught and never desired to catch. -But he was touched, and disconcerted, by the tactless way in which Overbrook -praised him: "We're mighty proud to have old George here to-night! Of course -you've all read about his speeches and oratory in the papers--and the boy's -good-looking, too, eh?--but what I always think of is back in college, and -what a great old mixer he was, and one of the best swimmers in the class." - -Babbitt tried to be jovial; he worked at it; but he could find nothing to -interest him in Overbrook's timorousness, the blankness of the other guests, -or the drained stupidity of Mrs. Overbrook, with her spectacles, drab skin, -and tight-drawn hair. He told his best Irish story, but it sank like soggy -cake. Most bleary moment of all was when Mrs. Overbrook, peering out of her -fog of nursing eight children and cooking and scrubbing, tried to be -conversational. - -"I suppose you go to Chicago and New York right along, Mr. Babbitt," she -prodded. - -"Well, I get to Chicago fairly often." - -"It must be awfully interesting. I suppose you take in all the theaters." - -"Well, to tell the truth, Mrs. Overbrook, thing that hits me best is a great -big beefsteak at a Dutch restaurant in the Loop!" - -They had nothing more to say. Babbitt was sorry, but there was no hope; the -dinner was a failure. At ten, rousing out of the stupor of meaningless talk, -he said as cheerily as he could, "'Fraid we got to be starting, Ed. I've got -a fellow coming to see me early to-morrow." As Overbrook helped him with his -coat, Babbitt said, "Nice to rub up on the old days! We must have lunch -together, P.D.Q." - -Mrs. Babbitt sighed, on their drive home, "It was pretty terrible. But how Mr. -Overbrook does admire you!" - -"Yep. Poor cuss! Seems to think I'm a little tin archangel, and the -best-looking man in Zenith." - -"Well, you're certainly not that but--Oh, Georgie, you don't suppose we have -to invite them to dinner at our house now, do we?" - -"Ouch! Gaw, I hope not!" - -"See here, now, George! You didn't say anything about it to Mr. Overbrook, -did you?" - -"No! Gee! No! Honest, I didn't! Just made a bluff about having him to lunch -some time." - -"Well.... Oh, dear.... I don't want to hurt their feelings. But I don't see -how I could stand another evening like this one. And suppose somebody like Dr. -and Mrs. Angus came in when we had the Overbrooks there, and thought they were -friends of ours!" - -For a week they worried, "We really ought to invite Ed and his wife, poor -devils!" But as they never saw the Overbrooks, they forgot them, and after a -month or two they said, "That really was the best way, just to let it slide. -It wouldn't be kind to THEM to have them here. They'd feel so out of place and -hard-up in our home." - -They did not speak of the Overbrooks again. - - - -CHAPTER XVI - -THE certainty that he was not going to be accepted by the McKelveys made -Babbitt feel guilty and a little absurd. But he went more regularly to the -Elks; at a Chamber of Commerce luncheon he was oratorical regarding the -wickedness of strikes; and again he saw himself as a Prominent Citizen. - -His clubs and associations were food comfortable to his spirit. - -Of a decent man in Zenith it was required that he should belong to one, -preferably two or three, of the innumerous "lodges" and prosperity-boosting -lunch-clubs; to the Rotarians, the Kiwanis, or the Boosters; to the -Oddfellows, Moose, Masons, Red Men, Woodmen, Owls, Eagles, Maccabees, Knights -of Pythias, Knights of Columbus, and other secret orders characterized by a -high degree of heartiness, sound morals, and reverence for the Constitution. -There were four reasons for joining these orders: It was the thing to do. It -was good for business, since lodge-brothers frequently became customers. It -gave to Americans unable to become Geheimrate or Commendatori such unctuous -honorifics as High Worthy Recording Scribe and Grand Hoogow to add to the -commonplace distinctions of Colonel, Judge, and Professor. And it permitted -the swaddled American husband to stay away from home for one evening a week. -The lodge was his piazza, his pavement cafe. He could shoot pool and talk -man-talk and be obscene and valiant. - -Babbitt was what he called a "joiner" for all these reasons. - -Behind the gold and scarlet banner of his public achievements was the dun -background of office-routine: leases, sales-contracts, lists of properties to -rent. The evenings of oratory and committees and lodges stimulated him like -brandy, but every morning he was sandy-tongued. Week by week he accumulated -nervousness. He was in open disagreement with his outside salesman, Stanley -Graff; and once, though her charms had always kept him nickeringly polite to -her, he snarled at Miss McGoun for changing his letters. - -But in the presence of Paul Riesling he relaxed. At least once a week they -fled from maturity. On Saturday they played golf, jeering, "As a golfer, -you're a fine tennis-player," or they motored all Sunday afternoon, stopping -at village lunchrooms to sit on high stools at a counter and drink coffee from -thick cups. Sometimes Paul came over in the evening with his violin, and even -Zilla was silent as the lonely man who had lost his way and forever crept down -unfamiliar roads spun out his dark soul in music. - - -II - -Nothing gave Babbitt more purification and publicity than his labors for the -Sunday School. - -His church, the Chatham Road Presbyterian, was one of the largest and richest, -one of the most oaken and velvety, in Zenith. The pastor was the Reverend -John Jennison Drew, M.A., D.D., LL.D. (The M.A. and the D.D. were from Elbert -University, Nebraska, the LL.D. from Waterbury College, Oklahoma.) He was -eloquent, efficient, and versatile. He presided at meetings for the -denunciation of unions or the elevation of domestic service, and confided to -the audiences that as a poor boy he had carried newspapers. For the Saturday -edition of the Evening Advocate he wrote editorials on "The Manly Man's -Religion" and "The Dollars and Sense Value of Christianity," which were -printed in bold type surrounded by a wiggly border. He often said that he was -"proud to be known as primarily a business man" and that he certainly was not -going to "permit the old Satan to monopolize all the pep and punch." He was a -thin, rustic-faced young man with gold spectacles and a bang of dull brown -hair, but when he hurled himself into oratory he glowed with power. He -admitted that he was too much the scholar and poet to imitate the evangelist, -Mike Monday, yet he had once awakened his fold to new life, and to larger -collections, by the challenge, "My brethren, the real cheap skate is the man -who won't lend to the Lord!" - -He had made his church a true community center. It contained everything but a -bar. It had a nursery, a Thursday evening supper with a short bright -missionary lecture afterward, a gymnasium, a fortnightly motion-picture show, -a library of technical books for young workmen--though, unfortunately, no -young workman ever entered the church except to wash the windows or repair the -furnace--and a sewing-circle which made short little pants for the children of -the poor while Mrs. Drew read aloud from earnest novels. - -Though Dr. Drew's theology was Presbyterian, his church-building was -gracefully Episcopalian. As he said, it had the "most perdurable features of -those noble ecclesiastical monuments of grand Old England which stand as -symbols of the eternity of faith, religious and civil." It was built of cheery -iron-spot brick in an improved Gothic style, and the main auditorium had -indirect lighting from electric globes in lavish alabaster bowls. - -On a December morning when the Babbitts went to church, Dr. John Jennison Drew -was unusually eloquent. The crowd was immense. Ten brisk young ushers, in -morning coats with white roses, were bringing folding chairs up from the -basement. There was an impressive musical program, conducted by Sheldon -Smeeth, educational director of the Y.M.C.A., who also sang the offertory. -Babbitt cared less for this, because some misguided person had taught young -Mr. Smeeth to smile, smile, smile while he was singing, but with all the -appreciation of a fellow-orator he admired Dr. Drew's sermon. It had the -intellectual quality which distinguished the Chatham Road congregation from -the grubby chapels on Smith Street. - -"At this abundant harvest-time of all the year," Dr. Drew chanted, "when, -though stormy the sky and laborious the path to the drudging wayfarer, yet the -hovering and bodiless spirit swoops back o'er all the labors and desires of -the past twelve months, oh, then it seems to me there sounds behind all our -apparent failures the golden chorus of greeting from those passed happily on; -and lo! on the dim horizon we see behind dolorous clouds the mighty mass of -mountains--mountains of melody, mountains of mirth, mountains of might!" - -"I certainly do like a sermon with culture and thought in it," meditated -Babbitt. - -At the end of the service he was delighted when the pastor, actively shaking -hands at the door, twittered, "Oh, Brother Babbitt, can you wait a jiffy? Want -your advice." - -"Sure, doctor! You bet!" - -"Drop into my office. I think you'll like the cigars there." Babbitt did like -the cigars. He also liked the office, which was distinguished from other -offices only by the spirited change of the familiar wall-placard to "This is -the Lord's Busy Day." Chum Frink came in, then William W. Eathorne. - -Mr. Eathorne was the seventy-year-old president of the First State Bank of -Zenith. He still wore the delicate patches of side-whiskers which had been -the uniform of bankers in 1870. If Babbitt was envious of the Smart Set of -the McKelveys, before William Washington Eathorne he was reverent. Mr. -Eathorne had nothing to do with the Smart Set. He was above it. He was the -great-grandson of one of the five men who founded Zenith, in 1792, and he was -of the third generation of bankers. He could examine credits, make loans, -promote or injure a man's business. In his presence Babbitt breathed quickly -and felt young. - -The Reverend Dr. Drew bounced into the room and flowered into speech: - -"I've asked you gentlemen to stay so I can put a proposition before you. The -Sunday School needs bucking up. It's the fourth largest in Zenith, but -there's no reason why we should take anybody's dust. We ought to be first. I -want to request you, if you will, to form a committee of advice and publicity -for the Sunday School; look it over and make any suggestions for its -betterment, and then, perhaps, see that the press gives us some -attention--give the public some really helpful and constructive news instead -of all these murders and divorces." - -"Excellent," said the banker. - -Babbitt and Frink were enchanted to join him. - - -III - -If you had asked Babbitt what his religion was, he would have answered in -sonorous Boosters'-Club rhetoric, "My religion is to serve my fellow men, to -honor my brother as myself, and to do my bit to make life happier for one and -all." If you had pressed him for more detail, he would have announced, "I'm a -member of the Presbyterian Church, and naturally, I accept its doctrines." If -you had been so brutal as to go on, he would have protested, "There's no use -discussing and arguing about religion; it just stirs up bad feeling." - -Actually, the content of his theology was that there was a supreme being who -had tried to make us perfect, but presumably had failed; that if one was a -Good Man he would go to a place called Heaven (Babbitt unconsciously pictured -it as rather like an excellent hotel with a private garden), but if one was a -Bad Man, that is, if he murdered or committed burglary or used cocaine or had -mistresses or sold non-existent real estate, he would be punished. Babbitt was -uncertain, however, about what he called "this business of Hell." He -explained to Ted, "Of course I'm pretty liberal; I don't exactly believe in a -fire-and-brimstone Hell. Stands to reason, though, that a fellow can't get -away with all sorts of Vice and not get nicked for it, see how I mean?" - -Upon this theology he rarely pondered. The kernel of his practical religion -was that it was respectable, and beneficial to one's business, to be seen -going to services; that the church kept the Worst Elements from being still -worse; and that the pastor's sermons, however dull they might seem at the time -of taking, yet had a voodooistic power which "did a fellow good--kept him in -touch with Higher Things." - -His first investigations for the Sunday School Advisory Committee did not -inspire him. - -He liked the Busy Folks' Bible Class, composed of mature men and women and -addressed by the old-school physician, Dr. T. Atkins Jordan, in a sparkling -style comparable to that of the more refined humorous after-dinner speakers, -but when he went down to the junior classes he was disconcerted. He heard -Sheldon Smeeth, educational director of the Y.M.C.A. and leader of the -church-choir, a pale but strenuous young man with curly hair and a smile, -teaching a class of sixteen-year-old boys. Smeeth lovingly admonished them, -"Now, fellows, I'm going to have a Heart to Heart Talk Evening at my house -next Thursday. We'll get off by ourselves and be frank about our Secret -Worries. You can just tell old Sheldy anything, like all the fellows do at -the Y. I'm going to explain frankly about the horrible practises a kiddy falls -into unless he's guided by a Big Brother, and about the perils and glory of -Sex." Old Sheldy beamed damply; the boys looked ashamed; and Babbitt didn't -know which way to turn his embarrassed eyes. - -Less annoying but also much duller were the minor classes which were being -instructed in philosophy and Oriental ethnology by earnest spinsters. Most of -them met in the highly varnished Sunday School room, but there was an overflow -to the basement, which was decorated with varicose water-pipes and lighted by -small windows high up in the oozing wall. What Babbitt saw, however, was the -First Congregational Church of Catawba. He was back in the Sunday School of -his boyhood. He smelled again that polite stuffiness to be found only in -church parlors; he recalled the case of drab Sunday School books: "Hetty, a -Humble Heroine" and "Josephus, a Lad of Palestine;" he thumbed once more the -high-colored text-cards which no boy wanted but no boy liked to throw away, -because they were somehow sacred; he was tortured by the stumbling rote of -thirty-five years ago, as in the vast Zenith church he listened to: - -"Now, Edgar, you read the next verse. What does it mean when it says it's -easier for a camel to go through a needle's eye? What does this teach us? -Clarence! Please don't wiggle so! If you had studied your lesson you wouldn't -be so fidgety. Now, Earl, what is the lesson Jesus was trying to teach his -disciples? The one thing I want you to especially remember, boys, is the -words, 'With God all things are possible.' Just think of that -always--Clarence, PLEASE pay attention--just say 'With God all things are -possible' whenever you feel discouraged, and, Alec, will you read the next -verse; if you'd pay attention you wouldn't lose your place!" - -Drone--drone--drone--gigantic bees that boomed in a cavern of drowsiness-- - -Babbitt started from his open-eyed nap, thanked the teacher for "the privilege -of listening to her splendid teaching," and staggered on to the next circle. - -After two weeks of this he had no suggestions whatever for the Reverend Dr. -Drew. - -Then he discovered a world of Sunday School journals, an enormous and busy -domain of weeklies and monthlies which were as technical, as practical and -forward-looking, as the real-estate columns or the shoe-trade magazines. He -bought half a dozen of them at a religious book-shop and till after midnight -he read them and admired. - -He found many lucrative tips on "Focusing Appeals," "Scouting for New -Members," and "Getting Prospects to Sign up with the Sunday School." He -particularly liked the word "prospects," and he was moved by the rubric: - -"The moral springs of the community's life lie deep in its Sunday Schools--its -schools of religious instruction and inspiration. Neglect now means loss of -spiritual vigor and moral power in years to come.... Facts like the above, -followed by a straight-arm appeal, will reach folks who can never be laughed -or jollied into doing their part." - -Babbitt admitted, "That's so. I used to skin out of the ole Sunday School at -Catawba every chance I got, but same time, I wouldn't be where I am to-day, -maybe, if it hadn't been for its training in--in moral power. And all about -the Bible. (Great literature. Have to read some of it again, one of these -days." - -How scientifically the Sunday School could be organized he learned from an -article in the Westminster Adult Bible Class: - -"The second vice-president looks after the fellowship of the class. She -chooses a group to help her. These become ushers. Every one who comes gets a -glad hand. No one goes away a stranger. One member of the group stands on the -doorstep and invites passers-by to come in." - -Perhaps most of all Babbitt appreciated the remarks by William H. Ridgway in -the Sunday School Times: - -"If you have a Sunday School class without any pep and get-up-and-go in it, -that is, without interest, that is uncertain in attendance, that acts like a -fellow with the spring fever, let old Dr. Ridgway write you a prescription. -Rx. Invite the Bunch for Supper." - -The Sunday School journals were as well rounded as they were practical. They -neglected none of the arts. As to music the Sunday School Times advertised -that C. Harold Lowden, "known to thousands through his sacred compositions," -had written a new masterpiece, "entitled 'Yearning for You.' The poem, by -Harry D. Kerr, is one of the daintiest you could imagine and the music is -indescribably beautiful. Critics are agreed that it will sweep the country. -May be made into a charming sacred song by substituting the hymn words, 'I -Heard the Voice of Jesus Say.' " - -Even manual training was adequately considered. Babbitt noted an ingenious -way of illustrating the resurrection of Jesus Christ: - -"Model for Pupils to Make. Tomb with Rolling Door.--Use a square covered box -turned upside down. Pull the cover forward a little to form a groove at the -bottom. Cut a square door, also cut a circle of cardboard to more than cover -the door. Cover the circular door and the tomb thickly with stiff mixture of -sand, flour and water and let it dry. It was the heavy circular stone over -the door the women found 'rolled away' on Easter morning. This is the story we -are to 'Go-tell.'" - -In their advertisements the Sunday School journals were thoroughly efficient. -Babbitt was interested in a preparation which "takes the place of exercise for -sedentary men by building up depleted nerve tissue, nourishing the brain and -the digestive system." He was edified to learn that the selling of Bibles was -a hustling and strictly competitive industry, and as an expert on hygiene he -was pleased by the Sanitary Communion Outfit Company's announcement of "an -improved and satisfactory outfit throughout, including highly polished -beautiful mahogany tray. This tray eliminates all noise, is lighter and more -easily handled than others and is more in keeping with the furniture of the -church than a tray of any other material." IV - -He dropped the pile of Sunday School journals. - -He pondered, "Now, there's a real he-world. Corking! - -"Ashamed I haven't sat in more. Fellow that's an influence in the -community--shame if he doesn't take part in a real virile hustling religion. -Sort of Christianity Incorporated, you might say. - -"But with all reverence. - -"Some folks might claim these Sunday School fans are undignified and -unspiritual and so on. Sure! Always some skunk to spring things like that! -Knocking and sneering and tearing-down--so much easier than building up. But -me, I certainly hand it to these magazines. They've brought ole George F. -Babbitt into camp, and that's the answer to the critics! - -"The more manly and practical a fellow is, the more he ought to lead the -enterprising Christian life. Me for it! Cut out this carelessness and -boozing and--Rone! Where the devil you been? This is a fine time o' night to -be coming in!" - - - -CHAPTER XVII - -I - -THERE are but three or four old houses in Floral Heights, and in Floral -Heights an old house is one which was built before 1880. The largest of these -is the residence of William Washington Eathorne, president of the First State -Bank. - -The Eathorne Mansion preserves the memory of the "nice parts" of Zenith as -they appeared from 1860 to 1900. It is a red brick immensity with gray -sandstone lintels and a roof of slate in courses of red, green, and dyspeptic -yellow. There are two anemic towers, one roofed with copper, the other -crowned with castiron ferns. The porch is like an open tomb; it is supported -by squat granite pillars above which hang frozen cascades of brick. At one -side of the house is a huge stained-glass window in the shape of a keyhole. - -But the house has an effect not at all humorous. It embodies the heavy -dignity of those Victorian financiers who ruled the generation between the -pioneers and the brisk "sales-engineers" and created a somber oligarchy by -gaining control of banks, mills, land, railroads, mines. Out of the dozen -contradictory Zeniths which together make up the true and complete Zenith, -none is so powerful and enduring yet none so unfamiliar to the citizens as the -small, still, dry, polite, cruel Zenith of the William Eathornes; and for that -tiny hierarchy the other Zeniths unwittingly labor and insignificantly die. - -Most of the castles of the testy Victorian tetrarchs are gone now or decayed -into boarding-houses, but the Eathorne Mansion remains virtuous and aloof, -reminiscent of London, Back Bay, Rittenhouse Square. Its marble steps are -scrubbed daily, the brass plate is reverently polished, and the lace curtains -are as prim and superior as William Washington Eathorne himself. - -With a certain awe Babbitt and Chum Frink called on Eathorne for a meeting of -the Sunday School Advisory Committee; with uneasy stillness they followed a -uniformed maid through catacombs of reception-rooms to the library. It was as -unmistakably the library of a solid old banker as Eathorne's side-whiskers -were the side-whiskers of a solid old banker. The books were most of them -Standard Sets, with the correct and traditional touch of dim blue, dim gold, -and glossy calf-skin. The fire was exactly correct and traditional; a small, -quiet, steady fire, reflected by polished fire-irons. The oak desk was dark -and old and altogether perfect; the chairs were gently supercilious. - -Eathorne's inquiries as to the healths of Mrs. Babbitt, Miss Babbitt, and the -Other Children were softly paternal, but Babbitt had nothing with which to -answer him. It was indecent to think of using the "How's tricks, ole socks?" -which gratified Vergil Gunch and Frink and Howard Littlefield--men who till -now had seemed successful and urbane. Babbitt and Frink sat politely, and -politely did Eathorne observe, opening his thin lips just wide enough to -dismiss the words, "Gentlemen, before we begin our conference--you may have -felt the cold in coming here--so good of you to save an old man the -journey--shall we perhaps have a whisky toddy?" - -So well trained was Babbitt in all the conversation that befits a Good Fellow -that he almost disgraced himself with "Rather than make trouble, and always -providin' there ain't any enforcement officers hiding in the waste-basket--" -The words died choking in his throat. He bowed in flustered obedience. So did -Chum Frink. - -Eathorne rang for the maid. - -The modern and luxurious Babbitt had never seen any one ring for a servant in -a private house, except during meals. Himself, in hotels, had rung for -bell-boys, but in the house you didn't hurt Matilda's feelings; you went out -in the hall and shouted for her. Nor had he, since prohibition, known any one -to be casual about drinking. It was extraordinary merely to sip his toddy and -not cry, "Oh, maaaaan, this hits me right where I live!" And always, with the -ecstasy of youth meeting greatness, he marveled, "That little fuzzy-face -there, why, he could make me or break me! If he told my banker to call my -loans--! Gosh! That quarter-sized squirt! And looking like he hadn't got a -single bit of hustle to him! I wonder--Do we Boosters throw too many fits -about pep?" - -From this thought he shuddered away, and listened devoutly to Eathorne's ideas -on the advancement of the Sunday School, which were very clear and very bad. - -Diffidently Babbitt outlined his own suggestions: - -"I think if you analyze the needs of the school, in fact, going right at it as -if it was a merchandizing problem, of course the one basic and fundamental -need is growth. I presume we're all agreed we won't be satisfied till we build -up the biggest darn Sunday School in the whole state, so the Chatham Road -Presbyterian won't have to take anything off anybody. Now about jazzing up -the campaign for prospects: they've already used contesting teams, and given -prizes to the kids that bring in the most members. And they made a mistake -there: the prizes were a lot of folderols and doodads like poetry books and -illustrated Testaments, instead of something a real live kid would want to -work for, like real cash or a speedometer for his motor cycle. Course I -suppose it's all fine and dandy to illustrate the lessons with these decorated -book-marks and blackboard drawings and so on, but when it comes down to real -he-hustling, getting out and drumming up customers--or members, I mean, why, -you got to make it worth a fellow's while. - -"Now, I want to propose two stunts: First, divide the Sunday School into four -armies, depending on age. Everybody gets a military rank in his own army -according to how many members he brings in, and the duffers that lie down on -us and don't bring in any, they remain privates. The pastor and superintendent -rank as generals. And everybody has got to give salutes and all the rest of -that junk, just like a regular army, to make 'em feel it's worth while to get -rank. - -"Then, second: Course the school has its advertising committee, but, Lord, -nobody ever really works good--nobody works well just for the love of it. The -thing to do is to be practical and up-to-date, and hire a real paid -press-agent for the Sunday School-some newspaper fellow who can give part of -his time." - -"Sure, you bet!" said Chum Frink. - -"Think of the nice juicy bits he could get in!" Babbitt crowed. "Not only the -big, salient, vital facts, about how fast the Sunday School--and the -collection--is growing, but a lot of humorous gossip and kidding: about how -some blowhard fell down on his pledge to get new members, or the good time the -Sacred Trinity class of girls had at their wieniewurst party. And on the -side, if he had time, the press-agent might even boost the lessons -themselves--do a little advertising for all the Sunday Schools in town, in -fact. No use being hoggish toward the rest of 'em, providing we can keep the -bulge on 'em in membership. Frinstance, he might get the papers to--Course I -haven't got a literary training like Frink here, and I'm just guessing how the -pieces ought to be written, but take frinstance, suppose the week's lesson is -about Jacob; well, the press-agent might get in something that would have a -fine moral, and yet with a trick headline that'd get folks to read it--say -like: 'Jake Fools the Old Man; Makes Getaway with Girl and Bankroll.' See how -I mean? That'd get their interest! Now, course, Mr. Eathorne, you're -conservative, and maybe you feel these stunts would be undignified, but -honestly, I believe they'd bring home the bacon." - -Eathorne folded his hands on his comfortable little belly and purred like an -aged pussy: - -"May I say, first, that I have been very much pleased by your analysis of the -situation, Mr. Babbitt. As you surmise, it's necessary in My Position to be -conservative, and perhaps endeavor to maintain a certain standard of dignity. -Yet I think you'll find me somewhat progressive. In our bank, for example, I -hope I may say that we have as modern a method of publicity and advertising as -any in the city. Yes, I fancy you'll find us oldsters quite cognizant of the -shifting spiritual values of the age. Yes, oh yes. And so, in fact, it -pleases me to be able to say that though personally I might prefer the sterner -Presbyterianism of an earlier era--" - -Babbitt finally gathered that Eathorne was willing. - -Chum Frink suggested as part-time press-agent one Kenneth Escott, reporter on -the Advocate-Times. - -They parted on a high plane of amity and Christian helpfulness. - -Babbitt did not drive home, but toward the center of the city. He wished to be -by himself and exult over the beauty of intimacy with William Washington -Eathorne. - - -II - -A snow-blanched evening of ringing pavements and eager lights. - -Great golden lights of trolley-cars sliding along the packed snow of the -roadway. Demure lights of little houses. The belching glare of a distant -foundry, wiping out the sharp-edged stars. Lights of neighborhood drug stores -where friends gossiped, well pleased, after the day's work. - -The green light of a police-station, and greener radiance on the snow; the -drama of a patrol-wagon--gong beating like a terrified heart, headlights -scorching the crystal-sparkling street, driver not a chauffeur but a policeman -proud in uniform, another policeman perilously dangling on the step at the -back, and a glimpse of the prisoner. A murderer, a burglar, a coiner cleverly -trapped? - -An enormous graystone church with a rigid spire; dim light in the Parlors, and -cheerful droning of choir-practise. The quivering green mercury-vapor light of -a photo-engraver's loft. Then the storming lights of down-town; parked cars -with ruby tail-lights; white arched entrances to movie theaters, like frosty -mouths of winter caves; electric signs--serpents and little dancing men of -fire; pink-shaded globes and scarlet jazz music in a cheap up-stairs -dance-hall; lights of Chinese restaurants, lanterns painted with -cherry-blossoms and with pagodas, hung against lattices of lustrous gold and -black. Small dirty lamps in small stinking lunchrooms. The smart -shopping-district, with rich and quiet light on crystal pendants and furs and -suave surfaces of polished wood in velvet-hung reticent windows. High above -the street, an unexpected square hanging in the darkness, the window of an -office where some one was working late, for a reason unknown and stimulating. -A man meshed in bankruptcy, an ambitious boy, an oil-man suddenly become rich? - -The air was shrewd, the snow was deep in uncleared alleys, and beyond the -city, Babbitt knew, were hillsides of snow-drift among wintry oaks, and the -curving ice-enchanted river. - -He loved his city with passionate wonder. He lost the accumulated weariness -of business--worry and expansive oratory; he felt young and potential. He was -ambitious. It was not enough to be a Vergil Gunch, an Orville Jones. No. -"They're bully fellows, simply lovely, but they haven't got any finesse." No. -He was going to be an Eathorne; delicately rigorous, coldly powerful. - -"That's the stuff. The wallop in the velvet mitt. Not let anybody get fresh -with you. Been getting careless about my diction. Slang. Colloquial. Cut -it out. I was first-rate at rhetoric in college. Themes on--Anyway, not bad. -Had too much of this hooptedoodle and good-fellow stuff. I--Why couldn't I -organize a bank of my own some day? And Ted succeed me!" - -He drove happily home, and to Mrs. Babbitt he was a William Washington -Eathorne, but she did not notice it. - - -III - -Young Kenneth Escott, reporter on the Advocate-Times was appointed press-agent -of the Chatham Road Presbyterian Sunday School. He gave six hours a week to -it. At least he was paid for giving six hours a week. He had friends on the -Press and the Gazette and he was not (officially) known as a press-agent. He -procured a trickle of insinuating items about neighborliness and the Bible, -about class-suppers, jolly but educational, and the value of the Prayer-life -in attaining financial success. - -The Sunday School adopted Babbitt's system of military ranks. Quickened by -this spiritual refreshment, it had a boom. It did not become the largest -school in Zenith--the Central Methodist Church kept ahead of it by methods -which Dr. Drew scored as "unfair, undignified, un-American, ungentlemanly, and -unchristian"--but it climbed from fourth place to second, and there was -rejoicing in heaven, or at least in that portion of heaven included in the -parsonage of Dr. Drew, while Babbitt had much praise and good repute. - -He had received the rank of colonel on the general staff of the school. He was -plumply pleased by salutes on the street from unknown small boys; his ears -were tickled to ruddy ecstasy by hearing himself called "Colonel;" and if he -did not attend Sunday School merely to be thus exalted, certainly he thought -about it all the way there. - -He was particularly pleasant to the press-agent, Kenneth Escott; he took him -to lunch at the Athletic Club and had him at the house for dinner. - -Like many of the cocksure young men who forage about cities in apparent -contentment and who express their cynicism in supercilious slang, Escott was -shy and lonely. His shrewd starveling face broadened with joy at dinner, and -he blurted, "Gee whillikins, Mrs. Babbitt, if you knew how good it is to have -home eats again!" - -Escott and Verona liked each other. All evening they "talked about ideas." -They discovered that they were Radicals. True, they were sensible about it. -They agreed that all communists were criminals; that this vers libre was -tommy-rot; and that while there ought to be universal disarmament, of course -Great Britain and the United States must, on behalf of oppressed small -nations, keep a navy equal to the tonnage of all the rest of the world. But -they were so revolutionary that they predicted (to Babbitt's irritation) that -there would some day be a Third Party which would give trouble to the -Republicans and Democrats. - -Escott shook hands with Babbitt three times, at parting. - -Babbitt mentioned his extreme fondness for Eathorne. - -Within a week three newspapers presented accounts of Babbitt's sterling labors -for religion, and all of them tactfully mentioned William Washington Eathorne -as his collaborator. - -Nothing had brought Babbitt quite so much credit at the Elks, the Athletic -Club, and the Boosters'. His friends had always congratulated him on his -oratory, but in their praise was doubt, for even in speeches advertising the -city there was something highbrow and degenerate, like writing poetry. But now -Orville Jones shouted across the Athletic dining-room, "Here's the new -director of the First State Bank!" Grover Butterbaugh, the eminent wholesaler -of plumbers' supplies, chuckled, "Wonder you mix with common folks, after -holding Eathorne's hand!" And Emil Wengert, the jeweler, was at last willing -to discuss buying a house in Dorchester. - - -IV - -When the Sunday School campaign was finished, Babbitt suggested to Kenneth -Escott, "Say, how about doing a little boosting for Doc Drew personally?" - -Escott grinned. "You trust the doc to do a little boosting for himself, Mr. -Babbitt! There's hardly a week goes by without his ringing up the paper to -say if we'll chase a reporter up to his Study, he'll let us in on the story -about the swell sermon he's going to preach on the wickedness of short skirts, -or the authorship of the Pentateuch. Don't you worry about him. There's just -one better publicity-grabber in town, and that's this Dora Gibson Tucker that -runs the Child Welfare and the Americanization League, and the only reason -she's got Drew beaten is because she has got SOME brains!" - -"Well, now Kenneth, I don't think you ought to talk that way about the doctor. -A preacher has to watch his interests, hasn't he? You remember that in the -Bible about--about being diligent in the Lord's business, or something?" - -"All right, I'll get something in if you want me to, Mr. Babbitt, but I'll -have to wait till the managing editor is out of town, and then blackjack the -city editor." - -Thus it came to pass that in the Sunday Advocate-Times, under a picture of Dr. -Drew at his earnestest, with eyes alert, jaw as granite, and rustic lock -flamboyant, appeared an inscription--a wood-pulp tablet conferring twenty-four -hours' immortality: - - -The Rev. Dr. John Jennison Drew, M.A., pastor of the beautiful Chatham Road -Presbyterian Church in lovely Floral Heights, is a wizard soul-winner. He -holds the local record for conversions. During his shepherdhood an average of -almost a hundred sin-weary persons per year have declared their resolve to -lead a new life and have found a harbor of refuge and peace. - -Everything zips at the Chatham Road Church. The subsidiary organizations are -keyed to the top-notch of efficiency. Dr. Drew is especially keen on good -congregational singing. Bright cheerful hymns are used at every meeting, and -the special Sing Services attract lovers of music and professionals from all -parts of the city. - -On the popular lecture platform as well as in the pulpit Dr. Drew is a -renowned word-painter, and during the course of the year he receives literally -scores of invitations to speak at varied functions both here and elsewhere. - - -V - -Babbitt let Dr. Drew know that he was responsible for this tribute. Dr. Drew -called him "brother," and shook his hand a great many times. - -During the meetings of the Advisory Committee, Babbitt had hinted that he -would be charmed to invite Eathorne to dinner, but Eathorne had murmured, "So -nice of you--old man, now--almost never go out." Surely Eathorne would not -refuse his own pastor. Babbitt said boyishly to Drew: - -"Say, doctor, now we've put this thing over, strikes me it's up to the dominie -to blow the three of us to a dinner!" - -"Bully! You bet! Delighted!" cried Dr. Drew, in his manliest way. (Some one -had once told him that he talked like the late President Roosevelt.) - -"And, uh, say, doctor, be sure and get Mr. Eathorne to come. Insist on it. -It's, uh--I think he sticks around home too much for his own health." - -Eathorne came. - -It was a friendly dinner. Babbitt spoke gracefully of the stabilizing and -educational value of bankers to the community. They were, he said, the pastors -of the fold of commerce. For the first time Eathorne departed from the topic -of Sunday Schools, and asked Babbitt about the progress of his business. -Babbitt answered modestly, almost filially. - -A few months later, when he had a chance to take part in the Street Traction -Company's terminal deal, Babbitt did not care to go to his own bank for a -loan. It was rather a quiet sort of deal and, if it had come out, the Public -might not have understood. He went to his friend Mr. Eathorne; he was -welcomed, and received the loan as a private venture; and they both profited -in their pleasant new association. - -After that, Babbitt went to church regularly, except on spring Sunday mornings -which were obviously meant for motoring. He announced to Ted, "I tell you, -boy, there's no stronger bulwark of sound conservatism than the evangelical -church, and no better place to make friends who'll help you to gain your -rightful place in the community than in your own church-home!" - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - -I - -THOUGH he saw them twice daily, though he knew and amply discussed every -detail of their expenditures, yet for weeks together Babbitt was no more -conscious of his children than of the buttons on his coat-sleeves. - -The admiration of Kenneth Escott made him aware of Verona. - -She had become secretary to Mr. Gruensberg of the Gruensberg Leather Company; -she did her work with the thoroughness of a mind which reveres details and -never quite understands them; but she was one of the people who give an -agitating impression of being on the point of doing something desperate--of -leaving a job or a husband--without ever doing it. Babbitt was so hopeful -about Escott's hesitant ardors that he became the playful parent. When he -returned from the Elks he peered coyly into the living-room and gurgled, "Has -our Kenny been here to-night?" He never credited Verona's protest, "Why, Ken -and I are just good friends, and we only talk about Ideas. I won't have all -this sentimental nonsense, that would spoil everything." - -It was Ted who most worried Babbitt. - -With conditions in Latin and English but with a triumphant record in manual -training, basket-ball, and the organization of dances, Ted was struggling -through his Senior year in the East Side High School. At home he was -interested only when he was asked to trace some subtle ill in the ignition -system of the car. He repeated to his tut-tutting father that he did not wish -to go to college or law-school, and Babbitt was equally disturbed by this -"shiftlessness" and by Ted's relations with Eunice Littlefield, next door. - -Though she was the daughter of Howard Littlefield, that wrought-iron -fact-mill, that horse-faced priest of private ownership, Eunice was a midge in -the sun. She danced into the house, she flung herself into Babbitt's lap when -he was reading, she crumpled his paper, and laughed at him when he adequately -explained that he hated a crumpled newspaper as he hated a broken -sales-contract. She was seventeen now. Her ambition was to be a cinema -actress. She did not merely attend the showing of every "feature film;" she -also read the motion-picture magazines, those extraordinary symptoms of the -Age of Pep-monthlies and weeklies gorgeously illustrated with portraits of -young women who had recently been manicure girls, not very skilful manicure -girls, and who, unless their every grimace had been arranged by a director, -could not have acted in the Easter cantata of the Central Methodist Church; -magazines reporting, quite seriously, in "interviews" plastered with pictures -of riding-breeches and California bungalows, the views on sculpture and -international politics of blankly beautiful, suspiciously beautiful young men; -outlining the plots of films about pure prostitutes and kind-hearted -train-robbers; and giving directions for making bootblacks into Celebrated -Scenario Authors overnight. - -These authorities Eunice studied. She could, she frequently did, tell whether -it was in November or December, 1905, that Mack Harker? the renowned screen -cowpuncher and badman, began his public career. as chorus man in "Oh, You -Naughty Girlie." On the wall of her room, her father reported, she had pinned -up twenty-one photographs of actors. But the signed portrait of the most -graceful of the movie heroes she carried in her young bosom. - -Babbitt was bewildered by this worship of new gods, and he suspected that -Eunice smoked cigarettes. He smelled the cloying reek from up-stairs, and -heard her giggling with Ted. He never inquired. The agreeable child dismayed -him. Her thin and charming face was sharpened by bobbed hair; her skirts were -short, her stockings were rolled, and, as she flew after Ted, above the -caressing silk were glimpses of soft knees which made Babbitt uneasy, and -wretched that she should consider him old. Sometimes, in the veiled life of -his dreams, when the fairy child came running to him she took on the semblance -of Eunice Littlefield. - -Ted was motor-mad as Eunice was movie-mad. - -A thousand sarcastic refusals did not check his teasing for a car of his own. -However lax he might be about early rising and the prosody of Vergil, he was -tireless in tinkering. With three other boys he bought a rheumatic Ford -chassis, built an amazing racer-body out of tin and pine, went skidding round -corners in the perilous craft, and sold it at a profit. Babbitt gave him a -motor-cycle, and every Saturday afternoon, with seven sandwiches and a bottle -of Coca-Cola in his pockets, and Eunice perched eerily on the rumble seat, he -went roaring off to distant towns. - -Usually Eunice and he were merely neighborhood chums, and quarreled with a -wholesome and violent lack of delicacy; but now and then, after the color and -scent of a dance, they were silent together and a little furtive, and Babbitt -was worried. - -Babbitt was an average father. He was affectionate, bullying, opinionated, -ignorant, and rather wistful. Like most parents, he enjoyed the game of -waiting till the victim was clearly wrong, then virtuously pouncing. He -justified himself by croaking, "Well, Ted's mother spoils him. Got to be -somebody who tells him what's what, and me, I'm elected the goat. Because I -try to bring him up to be a real, decent, human being and not one of these -sapheads and lounge-lizards, of course they all call me a grouch!" - -Throughout, with the eternal human genius for arriving by the worst possible -routes at surprisingly tolerable goals, Babbitt loved his son and warmed to -his companionship and would have sacrificed everything for him--if he could -have been sure of proper credit. - - -II - -Ted was planning a party for his set in the Senior Class. - -Babbitt meant to be helpful and jolly about it. From his memory of -high-school pleasures back in Catawba he suggested the nicest games: Going to -Boston, and charades with stew-pans for helmets, and word-games in which you -were an Adjective or a Quality. When he was most enthusiastic he discovered -that they weren't paying attention; they were only tolerating him. As for the -party, it was as fixed and standardized as a Union Club Hop. There was to be -dancing in the living-room, a noble collation in the dining-room, and in the -hall two tables of bridge for what Ted called "the poor old dumb-bells that -you can't get to dance hardly more 'n half the time." - -Every breakfast was monopolized by conferences on the affair. No one listened -to Babbitt's bulletins about the February weather or to his throat-clearing -comments on the headlines. He said furiously, "If I may be PERMITTED to -interrupt your engrossing private CONVERSATION--Juh hear what I SAID?" - -"Oh, don't be a spoiled baby! Ted and I have just as much right to talk as -you have!" flared Mrs. Babbitt. - -On the night of the party he was permitted to look on, when he was not helping -Matilda with the Vecchia ice cream and the petits fours. He was deeply -disquieted. Eight years ago, when Verona had given a high-school party, the -children had been featureless gabies. Now they were men and women of the -world, very supercilious men and women; the boys condescended to Babbitt, they -wore evening-clothes, and with hauteur they accepted cigarettes from silver -cases. Babbitt had heard stories of what the Athletic Club called "goings on" -at young parties; of girls "parking" their corsets in the dressing-room, of -"cuddling" and "petting," and a presumable increase in what was known as -Immorality. To-night he believed the stories. These children seemed bold to -him, and cold. The girls wore misty chiffon, coral velvet, or cloth of gold, -and around their dipping bobbed hair were shining wreaths. He had it, upon -urgent and secret inquiry, that no corsets were known to be parked upstairs; -but certainly these eager bodies were not stiff with steel. Their stockings -were of lustrous silk, their slippers costly and unnatural, their lips -carmined and their eyebrows penciled. They danced cheek to cheek with the -boys, and Babbitt sickened with apprehension and unconscious envy. - -Worst of them all was Eunice Littlefield, and maddest of all the boys was Ted. -Eunice was a flying demon. She slid the length of the room; her tender -shoulders swayed; her feet were deft as a weaver's shuttle; she laughed, and -enticed Babbitt to dance with her. - -Then he discovered the annex to the party. - -The boys and girls disappeared occasionally, and he remembered rumors of their -drinking together from hip-pocket flasks. He tiptoed round the house, and in -each of the dozen cars waiting in the street he saw the points of light from -cigarettes, from each of them heard high giggles. He wanted to denounce them -but (standing in the snow, peering round the dark corner) he did not dare. He -tried to be tactful. When he had returned to the front hall he coaxed the -boys, "Say, if any of you fellows are thirsty, there's some dandy ginger ale." - -"Oh! Thanks!" they condescended. - -He sought his wife, in the pantry, and exploded, "I'd like to go in there and -throw some of those young pups out of the house! They talk down to me like I -was the butler! I'd like to--" - -"I know," she sighed; "only everybody says, all the mothers tell me, unless -you stand for them, if you get angry because they go out to their cars to have -a drink, they won't come to your house any more, and we wouldn't want Ted left -out of things, would we?" - -He announced that he would be enchanted to have Ted left out of things, and -hurried in to be polite, lest Ted be left out of things. - -But, he resolved, if he found that the boys were drinking, he would--well, -he'd "hand 'em something that would surprise 'em." While he was trying to be -agreeable to large-shouldered young bullies he was earnestly sniffing at them -Twice he caught the reek of prohibition-time whisky, but then, it was only -twice-- - -Dr. Howard Littlefield lumbered in. - -He had come, in a mood of solemn parental patronage, to look on. Ted and -Eunice were dancing, moving together like one body. Littlefield gasped. He -called Eunice. There was a whispered duologue, and Littlefield explained to -Babbitt that Eunice's mother had a headache and needed her. She went off in -tears. Babbitt looked after them furiously. "That little devil! Getting Ted -into trouble! And Littlefield, the conceited old gas-bag, acting like it was -Ted that was the bad influence!" - -Later he smelled whisky on Ted's breath. - -After the civil farewell to the guests, the row was terrific, a thorough -Family Scene, like an avalanche, devastating and without reticences. Babbitt -thundered, Mrs. Babbitt wept, Ted was unconvincingly defiant, and Verona in -confusion as to whose side she was taking. - -For several months there was coolness between the Babbitts and the -Littlefields, each family sheltering their lamb from the wolf-cub next door. -Babbitt and Littlefield still spoke in pontifical periods about motors and the -senate, but they kept bleakly away from mention of their families. Whenever -Eunice came to the house she discussed with pleasant intimacy the fact that -she had been forbidden to come to the house; and Babbitt tried, with no -success whatever, to be fatherly and advisory with her. - - -III - -"Gosh all fishhooks!" Ted wailed to Eunice, as they wolfed hot chocolate, -lumps of nougat, and an assortment of glace nuts, in the mosaic splendor of -the Royal Drug Store, "it gets me why Dad doesn't just pass out from being so -poky. Every evening he sits there, about half-asleep, and if Rone or I say, -'Oh, come on, let's do something,' he doesn't even take the trouble to think -about it. He just yawns and says, 'Naw, this suits me right here.' He -doesn't know there's any fun going on anywhere. I suppose he must do some -thinking, same as you and I do, but gosh, there's no way of telling it. I -don't believe that outside of the office and playing a little bum golf on -Saturday he knows there's anything in the world to do except just keep sitting -there-sitting there every night--not wanting to go anywhere--not wanting to do -anything--thinking us kids are crazy--sitting there--Lord!" - - -IV - -If he was frightened by Ted's slackness, Babbitt was not sufficiently -frightened by Verona. She was too safe. She lived too much in the neat little -airless room of her mind. Kenneth Escott and she were always under foot. When -they were not at home, conducting their cautiously radical courtship over -sheets of statistics, they were trudging off to lectures by authors and Hindu -philosophers and Swedish lieutenants. - -"Gosh," Babbitt wailed to his wife, as they walked home from the Fogartys' -bridge-party, "it gets me how Rone and that fellow can be so poky. They sit -there night after night, whenever he isn't working, and they don't know -there's any fun in the world. All talk and discussion--Lord! Sitting -there--sitting there--night after night--not wanting to do anything--thinking -I'm crazy because I like to go out and play a fist of cards--sitting -there--gosh!" - -Then round the swimmer, bored by struggling through the perpetual surf of -family life, new combers swelled. - - -V - -Babbitt's father- and mother-in-law, Mr. and Mrs. Henry T. Thompson, rented -their old house in the Bellevue district and moved to the Hotel Hatton, that -glorified boarding-house filled with widows, red-plush furniture, and the -sound of ice-water pitchers. They were lonely there, and every other Sunday -evening the Babbitts had to dine with them, on fricasseed chicken, discouraged -celery, and cornstarch ice cream, and afterward sit, polite and restrained, in -the hotel lounge, while a young woman violinist played songs from the German -via Broadway. - -Then Babbitt's own mother came down from Catawba to spend three weeks. - -She was a kind woman and magnificently uncomprehending. She congratulated the -convention-defying Verona on being a "nice, loyal home-body without all these -Ideas that so many girls seem to have nowadays;" and when Ted filled the -differential with grease, out of pure love of mechanics and filthiness, she -rejoiced that he was "so handy around the house--and helping his father and -all, and not going out with the girls all the time and trying to pretend he -was a society fellow." - -Babbitt loved his mother, and sometimes he rather liked her, but he was -annoyed by her Christian Patience, and he was reduced to pulpiness when she -discoursed about a quite mythical hero called "Your Father": - -"You won't remember it, Georgie, you were such a little fellow at the -time--my, I remember just how you looked that day, with your goldy brown curls -and your lace collar, you always were such a dainty child, and kind of puny -and sickly, and you loved pretty things so much and the red tassels on your -little bootees and all--and Your Father was taking us to church and a man -stopped us and said 'Major'--so many of the neighbors used to call Your Father -'Major;' of course he was only a private in The War but everybody knew that -was because of the jealousy of his captain and he ought to have been a -high-ranking officer, he had that natural ability to command that so very, -very few men have--and this man came out into the road and held up his hand -and stopped the buggy and said, 'Major,' he said, 'there's a lot of the folks -around here that have decided to support Colonel Scanell for congress, and we -want you to join us. Meeting people the way you do in the store, you could -help us a lot.' - -"Well, Your Father just looked at him and said, 'I certainly shall do nothing -of the sort. I don't like his politics,' he said. Well, the man--Captain -Smith they used to call him, and heaven only knows why, because he hadn't the -shadow or vestige of a right to be called 'Captain' or any other title--this -Captain Smith said, 'We'll make it hot for you if you don't stick by your -friends, Major.' Well, you know how Your Father was, and this Smith knew it -too; he knew what a Real Man he was, and he knew Your Father knew the -political situation from A to Z, and he ought to have seen that here was one -man he couldn't impose on, but he went on trying to and hinting and trying -till Your Father spoke up and said to him, 'Captain Smith,' he said, 'I have a -reputation around these parts for being one who is amply qualified to mind his -own business and let other folks mind theirs!' and with that he drove on and -left the fellow standing there in the road like a bump on a log!" - -Babbitt was most exasperated when she revealed his boyhood to the children. He -had, it seemed, been fond of barley-sugar; had worn the "loveliest little pink -bow in his curls" and corrupted his own name to "Goo-goo." He heard (though he -did not officially hear) Ted admonishing Tinka, "Come on now, kid; stick the -lovely pink bow in your curls and beat it down to breakfast, or Goo-goo will -jaw your head off." - -Babbitt's half-brother, Martin, with his wife and youngest baby, came down -from Catawba for two days. Martin bred cattle and ran the dusty -general-store. He was proud of being a freeborn independent American of the -good old Yankee stock; he was proud of being honest, blunt, ugly, and -disagreeable. His favorite remark was "How much did you pay for that?" He -regarded Verona's books, Babbitt's silver pencil, and flowers on the table as -citified extravagances, and said so. Babbitt would have quarreled with him but -for his gawky wife and the baby, whom Babbitt teased and poked fingers at and -addressed: - -"I think this baby's a bum, yes, sir, I think this little baby's a bum, he's a -bum, yes, sir, he's a bum, that's what he is, he's a bum, this baby's a bum, -he's nothing but an old bum, that's what he is--a bum!" - -All the while Verona and Kenneth Escott held long inquiries into epistemology; -Ted was a disgraced rebel; and Tinka, aged eleven, was demanding that she be -allowed to go to the movies thrice a week, "like all the girls." - -Babbitt raged, "I'm sick of it! Having to carry three generations. Whole damn -bunch lean on me. Pay half of mother's income, listen to Henry T., listen to -Myra's worrying, be polite to Mart, and get called an old grouch for trying to -help the children. All of 'em depending on me and picking on me and not a damn -one of 'em grateful! No relief, and no credit, and no help from anybody. And -to keep it up for--good Lord, how long?" - -He enjoyed being sick in February; he was delighted by their consternation -that he, the rock, should give way. - -He had eaten a questionable clam. For two days he was languorous and petted -and esteemed. He was allowed to snarl "Oh, let me alone!" without reprisals. -He lay on the sleeping-porch and watched the winter sun slide along the taut -curtains, turning their ruddy khaki to pale blood red. The shadow of the -draw-rope was dense black, in an enticing ripple on the canvas. He found -pleasure in the curve of it, sighed as the fading light blurred it. He was -conscious of life, and a little sad. With no Vergil Gunches before whom to -set his face in resolute optimism, he beheld, and half admitted that he -beheld, his way of life as incredibly mechanical. Mechanical business--a -brisk selling of badly built houses. Mechanical religion--a dry, hard church, -shut off from the real life of the streets, inhumanly respectable as a -top-hat. Mechanical golf and dinner-parties and bridge and conversation. Save -with Paul Riesling, mechanical friendships--back-slapping and jocular, never -daring to essay the test of quietness. - -He turned uneasily in bed. - -He saw the years, the brilliant winter days and all the long sweet afternoons -which were meant for summery meadows, lost in such brittle pretentiousness. He -thought of telephoning about leases, of cajoling men he hated, of making -business calls and waiting in dirty anterooms--hat on knee, yawning at -fly-specked calendars, being polite to office-boys. - -"I don't hardly want to go back to work," he prayed. "I'd like to--I don't -know." - -But he was back next day, busy and of doubtful temper. - - - -CHAPTER XIX - -I - -THE Zenith Street Traction Company planned to build car-repair shops in the -suburb of Dorchester, but when they came to buy the land they found it held, -on options, by the Babbitt-Thompson Realty Company. The purchasing-agent, the -first vice-president, and even the president of the Traction Company protested -against the Babbitt price. They mentioned their duty toward stockholders, -they threatened an appeal to the courts, though somehow the appeal to the -courts was never carried out and the officials found it wiser to compromise -with Babbitt. Carbon copies of the correspondence are in the company's files, -where they may be viewed by any public commission. - -Just after this Babbitt deposited three thousand dollars in the bank, the -purchasing-agent of the Street Traction Company bought a five thousand dollar -car, he first vice-president built a home in Devon Woods, and the president -was appointed minister to a foreign country. - -To obtain the options, to tie up one man's land without letting his neighbor -know, had been an unusual strain on Babbitt. It was necessary to introduce -rumors about planning garages and stores, to pretend that he wasn't taking any -more options, to wait and look as bored as a poker-player at a time when the -failure to secure a key-lot threatened his whole plan. To all this was added -a nerve-jabbing quarrel with his secret associates in the deal. They did not -wish Babbitt and Thompson to have any share in the deal except as brokers. -Babbitt rather agreed. "Ethics of the business-broker ought to strictly -represent his principles and not get in on the buying," he said to Thompson. - -"Ethics, rats! Think I'm going to see that bunch of holy grafters get away -with the swag and us not climb in?" snorted old Henry. - -"Well, I don't like to do it. Kind of double-crossing." - -"It ain't. It's triple-crossing. It's the public that gets double-crossed. -Well, now we've been ethical and got it out of our systems, the question is -where we can raise a loan to handle some of the property for ourselves, on the -Q. T. We can't go to our bank for it. Might come out." - -"I could see old Eathorne. He's close as the tomb." - -"That's the stuff." - -Eathorne was glad, he said, to "invest in character," to make Babbitt the loan -and see to it that the loan did not appear on the books of the bank. Thus -certain of the options which Babbitt and Thompson obtained were on parcels of -real estate which they themselves owned, though the property did not appear in -their names. - -In the midst of closing this splendid deal, which stimulated business and -public confidence by giving an example of increased real-estate activity, -Babbitt was overwhelmed to find that he had a dishonest person working for -him. - -The dishonest one was Stanley Graff, the outside salesman. - -For some time Babbitt had been worried about Graff. He did not keep his word -to tenants. In order to rent a house he would promise repairs which the owner -had not authorized. It was suspected that he juggled inventories of furnished -houses so that when the tenant left he had to pay for articles which had never -been in the house and the price of which Graff put into his pocket. Babbitt -had not been able to prove these suspicions, and though he had rather planned -to discharge Graff he had never quite found time for it. - -Now into Babbitt's private room charged a red-faced man, panting, "Look here! -I've come to raise particular merry hell, and unless you have that fellow -pinched, I will!" "What's--Calm down, o' man. What's trouble?" - -"Trouble! Huh! Here's the trouble--" - -"Sit down and take it easy! They can hear you all over the building!" - -"This fellow Graff you got working for you, he leases me a house. I was in -yesterday and signs the lease, all O.K., and he was to get the owner's -signature and mail me the lease last night. Well, and he did. This morning I -comes down to breakfast and the girl says a fellow had come to the house right -after the early delivery and told her he wanted an envelope that had been -mailed by mistake, big long envelope with 'Babbitt-Thompson' in the corner of -it. Sure enough, there it was, so she lets him have it. And she describes the -fellow to me, and it was this Graff. So I 'phones to him and he, the poor -fool, he admits it! He says after my lease was all signed he got a better -offer from another fellow and he wanted my lease back. Now what you going to -do about it?" - -"Your name is--?" - -"William Varney--W. K. Varney." - -"Oh, yes. That was the Garrison house." Babbitt sounded the buzzer. When -Miss McGoun came in, he demanded, "Graff gone out?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"Will you look through his desk and see if there is a lease made out to Mr. -Varney on the Garrison house?" To Varney: "Can't tell you how sorry I am this -happened. Needless to say, I'll fire Graff the minute he comes in. And of -course your lease stands. But there's one other thing I'd like to do. I'll -tell the owner not to pay us the commission but apply it to your rent. No! -Straight! I want to. To be frank, this thing shakes me up bad. I suppose -I've always been a Practical Business Man. Probably I've told one or two -fairy stories in my time, when the occasion called for it--you know: sometimes -you have to lay things on thick, to impress boneheads. But this is the first -time I've ever had to accuse one of my own employees of anything more -dishonest than pinching a few stamps. Honest, it would hurt me if we profited -by it. So you'll let me hand you the commission? Good!" - - -II - -He walked through the February city, where trucks flung up a spattering of -slush and the sky was dark above dark brick cornices. He came back miserable. -He, who respected the law, had broken it by concealing the Federal crime of -interception of the mails. But he could not see Graff go to jail and his wife -suffer. Worse, he had to discharge Graff and this was a part of office routine -which he feared. He liked people so much, he so much wanted them to like him -that he could not bear insulting them. - -Miss McGoun dashed in to whisper, with the excitement of an approaching scene, -"He's here!" - -"Mr. Graff? Ask him to come in." - -He tried to make himself heavy and calm in his chair, and to keep his eyes -expressionless. Graff stalked in--a man of thirty-five, dapper, eye-glassed, -with a foppish mustache. - -"Want me?" said Graff. - -"Yes. Sit down." - -Graff continued to stand, grunting, "I suppose that old nut Varney has been in -to see you. Let me explain about him. He's a regular tightwad, and he sticks -out for every cent, and he practically lied to me about his ability to pay the -rent--I found that out just after we signed up. And then another fellow comes -along with a better offer for the house, and I felt it was my duty to the firm -to get rid of Varney, and I was so worried about it I skun up there and got -back the lease. Honest, Mr. Babbitt, I didn't intend to pull anything crooked. -I just wanted the firm to have all the commis--" - -"Wait now, Stan. This may all be true, but I've been having a lot of -complaints about you. Now I don't s'pose you ever mean to do wrong, and I -think if you just get a good lesson that'll jog you up a little, you'll turn -out a first-class realtor yet. But I don't see how I can keep you on." - -Graff leaned against the filing-cabinet, his hands in his pockets, and -laughed. "So I'm fired! Well, old Vision and Ethics, I'm tickled to death! -But I don't want you to think you can get away with any holier-than-thou -stuff. Sure I've pulled some raw stuff--a little of it--but how could I help -it, in this office?" - -"Now, by God, young man--" - -"Tut, tut! Keep the naughty temper down, and don't holler, because everybody -in the outside office will hear you. They're probably listening right now. -Babbitt, old dear, you're crooked in the first place and a damn skinflint in -the second. If you paid me a decent salary I wouldn't have to steal pennies -off a blind man to keep my wife from starving. Us married just five months, -and her the nicest girl living, and you keeping us flat broke all the time, -you damned old thief, so you can put money away for your saphead of a son and -your wishywashy fool of a daughter! Wait, now! You'll by God take it, or -I'll bellow so the whole office will hear it! And crooked--Say, if I told the -prosecuting attorney what I know about this last Street Traction option steal, -both you and me would go to jail, along with some nice, clean, pious, high-up -traction guns!" - -"Well, Stan, looks like we were coming down to cases. That deal--There was -nothing crooked about it. The only way you can get progress is for the -broad-gauged men to get things done; and they got to be rewarded--" - -"Oh, for Pete's sake, don't get virtuous on me! As I gather it, I'm fired. -All right. It's a good thing for me. And if I catch you knocking me to any -other firm, I'll squeal all I know about you and Henry T. and the dirty little -lickspittle deals that you corporals of industry pull off for the bigger and -brainier crooks, and you'll get chased out of town. And me--you're right, -Babbitt, I've been going crooked, but now I'm going straight, and the first -step will be to get a job in some office where the boss doesn't talk about -Ideals. Bad luck, old dear, and you can stick your job up the sewer!" - -Babbitt sat for a long time, alternately raging, "I'll have him arrested," and -yearning "I wonder--No, I've never done anything that wasn't necessary to keep -the Wheels of Progress moving." - -Next day he hired in Graff's place Fritz Weilinger, the salesman of his most -injurious rival, the East Side Homes and Development Company, and thus at once -annoyed his competitor and acquired an excellent man. Young Fritz was a -curly-headed, merry, tennis-playing youngster. He made customers welcome to -the office. Babbitt thought of him as a son, and in him had much comfort. - - -III - -An abandoned race-track on the outskirts of Chicago, a plot excellent for -factory sites, was to be sold, and Jake Offut asked Babbitt to bid on it for -him. The strain of the Street Traction deal and his disappointment in Stanley -Graff had so shaken Babbitt that he found it hard to sit at his desk and -concentrate. He proposed to his family, "Look here, folks! Do you know who's -going to trot up to Chicago for a couple of days--just week-end; won't lose -but one day of school--know who's going with that celebrated -business-ambassador, George F. Babbitt? Why, Mr. Theodore Roosevelt Babbitt!" - -"Hurray!" Ted shouted, and "Oh, maybe the Babbitt men won't paint that lil -ole town red!" - -And, once away from the familiar implications of home, they were two men -together. Ted was young only in his assumption of oldness, and the only -realms, apparently, in which Babbitt had a larger and more grown-up knowledge -than Ted's were the details of real estate and the phrases of politics. When -the other sages of the Pullman smoking-compartment had left them to -themselves, Babbitt's voice did not drop into the playful and otherwise -offensive tone in which one addresses children but continued its overwhelming -and monotonous rumble, and Ted tried to imitate it in his strident tenor: - -"Gee, dad, you certainly did show up that poor boot when he got flip about the -League of Nations!" - -"Well, the trouble with a lot of these fellows is, they simply don't know what -they're talking about. They don't get down to facts.... What do you think of -Ken Escott?" - -"I'll tell you, dad: it strikes me Ken is a nice lad; no special faults -except he smokes too much; but slow, Lord! Why, if we don't give him a shove -the poor dumb-bell never will propose! And Rone just as bad. Slow." - -"Yes, I guess you're right. They're slow. They haven't either one of 'em got -our pep." - -"That's right. They're slow. I swear, dad, I don't know how Rone got into -our family! I'll bet, if the truth were known, you were a bad old egg when -you were a kid!" - -"Well, I wasn't so slow!" - -"I'll bet you weren't! I'll bet you didn't miss many tricks!" - -"Well, when I was out with the girls I didn't spend all the time telling 'em -about the strike in the knitting industry!" - -They roared together, and together lighted cigars. - -"What are we going to do with 'em?" Babbitt consulted. - -"Gosh, I don't know. I swear, sometimes I feel like taking Ken aside and -putting him over the jumps and saying to him, 'Young fella me lad, are you -going to marry young Rone, or are you going to talk her to death? Here you -are getting on toward thirty, and you're only making twenty or twenty-five a -week. When you going to develop a sense of responsibility and get a raise? If -there's anything that George F. or I can do to help you, call on us, but show -a little speed, anyway!'" - -"Well, at that, it might not be so bad if you or I talked to him, except he -might not understand. He's one of these high brows. He can't come down to -cases and lay his cards on the table and talk straight out from the shoulder, -like you or I can." - -"That's right, he's like all these highbrows." - -"That's so, like all of 'em." - -"That's a fact." - -They sighed, and were silent and thoughtful and happy. - -The conductor came in. He had once called at Babbitt's office, to ask about -houses. "H' are you, Mr. Babbitt! We going to have you with us to Chicago? -This your boy?" - -"Yes, this is my son Ted." - -"Well now, what do you know about that! Here I been thinking you were a -youngster yourself, not a day over forty, hardly, and you with this great big -fellow!" - -"Forty? Why, brother, I'll never see forty-five again!" - -"Is that a fact! Wouldn't hardly 'a' thought it!" - -"Yes, sir, it's a bad give-away for the old man when he has to travel with a -young whale like Ted here!" - -"You're right, it is." To Ted: "I suppose you're in college now. - -Proudly, "No, not till next fall. I'm just kind of giving the diff'rent -colleges the once-over now." - -As the conductor went on his affable way, huge watch-chain jingling against -his blue chest, Babbitt and Ted gravely considered colleges. They arrived at -Chicago late at night; they lay abed in the morning, rejoicing, "Pretty nice -not to have to get up and get down to breakfast, heh?" They were staying at -the modest Eden Hotel, because Zenith business men always stayed at the Eden, -but they had dinner in the brocade and crystal Versailles Room of the Regency -Hotel. Babbitt ordered Blue Point oysters with cocktail sauce, a tremendous -steak with a tremendous platter of French fried potatoes, two pots of coffee, -apple pie with ice cream for both of them and, for Ted, an extra piece of -mince pie. - -"Hot stuff! Some feed, young fella!" Ted admired. - -"Huh! You stick around with me, old man, and I'll show you a good time!" - -They went to a musical comedy and nudged each other at the matrimonial jokes -and the prohibition jokes; they paraded the lobby, arm in arm, between acts, -and in the glee of his first release from the shame which dissevers fathers -and sons Ted chuckled, "Dad, did you ever hear the one about the three -milliners and the judge?" - -When Ted had returned to Zenith, Babbitt was lonely. As he was trying to make -alliance between Offutt and certain Milwaukee interests which wanted the -race-track plot, most of his time was taken up in waiting for telephone -calls.... Sitting on the edge of his bed, holding the portable telephone, -asking wearily, "Mr. Sagen not in yet? Didn' he leave any message for me? All -right, I'll hold the wire." Staring at a stain on the wall, reflecting that -it resembled a shoe, and being bored by this twentieth discovery that it -resembled a shoe. Lighting a cigarette; then, bound to the telephone with no -ashtray in reach, wondering what to do with this burning menace and anxiously -trying to toss it into the tiled bathroom. At last, on the telephone, "No -message, eh? All right, I'll call up again." - -One afternoon he wandered through snow-rutted streets of which he had never -heard, streets of small tenements and two-family houses and marooned cottages. -It came to him that he had nothing to do, that there was nothing he wanted to -do. He was bleakly lonely in the evening, when he dined by himself at the -Regency Hotel. He sat in the lobby afterward, in a plush chair bedecked with -the Saxe-Coburg arms, lighting a cigar and looking for some one who would come -and play with him and save him from thinking. In the chair next to him -(showing the arms of Lithuania) was a half-familiar man, a large red-faced man -with pop eyes and a deficient yellow mustache. He seemed kind and -insignificant, and as lonely as Babbitt himself. He wore a tweed suit and a -reluctant orange tie. - -It came to Babbitt with a pyrotechnic crash. The melancholy stranger was Sir -Gerald Doak. - -Instinctively Babbitt rose, bumbling, "How 're you, Sir Gerald? 'Member we -met in Zenith, at Charley McKelvey's? Babbitt's my name--real estate." - -"Oh! How d' you do." Sir Gerald shook hands flabbily. - -Embarrassed, standing, wondering how he could retreat, Babbitt maundered, -"Well, I suppose you been having a great trip since we saw you in Zenith." - -"Quite. British Columbia and California and all over the place," he said -doubtfully, looking at Babbitt lifelessly. - -"How did you find business conditions in British Columbia? Or I suppose maybe -you didn't look into 'em. Scenery and sport and so on?" - -"Scenery? Oh, capital. But business conditions--You know, Mr. Babbitt, -they're having almost as much unemployment as we are." Sir Gerald was speaking -warmly now. - -"So? Business conditions not so doggone good, eh?" - -"No, business conditions weren't at all what I'd hoped to find them." - -"Not good, eh?" - -"No, not--not really good." - -"That's a darn shame. Well--I suppose you're waiting for somebody to take you -out to some big shindig, Sir Gerald." - -"Shindig? Oh. Shindig. No, to tell you the truth, I was wondering what the -deuce I could do this evening. Don't know a soul in Tchicahgo. I wonder if -you happen to know whether there's a good theater in this city?" - -"Good? Why say, they're running grand opera right now! I guess maybe you'd -like that." - -"Eh? Eh? Went to the opera once in London. Covent Garden sort of thing. -Shocking! No, I was wondering if there was a good cinema-movie." - -Babbitt was sitting down, hitching his chair over, shouting, "Movie? Say, Sir -Gerald, I supposed of course you had a raft of dames waiting to lead you out -to some soiree--" - -"God forbid!" - -"--but if you haven't, what do you say you and me go to a movie? There's a -peach of a film at the Grantham: Bill Hart in a bandit picture." - -"Right-o! Just a moment while I get my coat." - -Swollen with greatness, slightly afraid lest the noble blood of Nottingham -change its mind and leave him at any street corner, Babbitt paraded with Sir -Gerald Doak to the movie palace and in silent bliss sat beside him, trying not -to be too enthusiastic, lest the knight despise his adoration of six-shooters -and broncos. At the end Sir Gerald murmured, "Jolly good picture, this. So -awfully decent of you to take me. Haven't enjoyed myself so much for weeks. -All these Hostesses--they never let you go to the cinema!" - -"The devil you say!" Babbitt's speech had lost the delicate refinement and -all the broad A's with which he had adorned it, and become hearty and natural. -"Well, I'm tickled to death you liked it, Sir Gerald." - -They crawled past the knees of fat women into the aisle; they stood in the -lobby waving their arms in the rite of putting on overcoats. Babbitt hinted, -"Say, how about a little something to eat? I know a place where we could get a -swell rarebit, and we might dig up a little drink--that is, if you ever touch -the stuff." - -"Rather! But why don't you come to my room? I've some Scotch--not half bad." - -"Oh, I don't want to use up all your hootch. It's darn nice of you, but--You -probably want to hit the hay." - -Sir Gerald was transformed. He was beefily yearning. "Oh really, now; I -haven't had a decent evening for so long! Having to go to all these dances. -No chance to discuss business and that sort of thing. Do be a good chap and -come along. Won't you?" - -"Will I? You bet! I just thought maybe--Say, by golly, it does do a fellow -good, don't it, to sit and visit about business conditions, after he's been to -these balls and masquerades and banquets and all that society stuff. I often -feel that way in Zenith. Sure, you bet I'll come." - -"That's awfully nice of you." They beamed along the street. "Look here, old -chap, can you tell me, do American cities always keep up this dreadful social -pace? All these magnificent parties?" - -"Go on now, quit your kidding! Gosh, you with court balls and functions and -everything--" - -"No, really, old chap! Mother and I--Lady Doak, I should say, we usually play -a hand of bezique and go to bed at ten. Bless my soul, I couldn't keep up your -beastly pace! And talking! All your American women, they know so -much--culture and that sort of thing. This Mrs. McKelvey--your friend--" - -"Yuh, old Lucile. Good kid." - -"--she asked me which of the galleries I liked best in Florence. Or was it in -Firenze? Never been in Italy in my life! And primitives. Did I like -primitives. Do you know what the deuce a primitive is?" - -"Me? I should say not! But I know what a discount for cash is." - -"Rather! So do I, by George! But primitives!" - -"Yuh! Primitives!" - -They laughed with the sound of a Boosters' luncheon. - -Sir Gerald's room was, except for his ponderous and durable English bags, very -much like the room of George F. Babbitt; and quite in the manner of Babbitt he -disclosed a huge whisky flask, looked proud and hospitable, and chuckled, -"Say, when, old chap." - -It was after the third drink that Sir Gerald proclaimed, "How do you Yankees -get the notion that writing chaps like Bertrand Shaw and this Wells represent -us? The real business England, we think those chaps are traitors. Both our -countries have their comic Old Aristocracy--you know, old county families, -hunting people and all that sort of thing--and we both have our wretched labor -leaders, but we both have a backbone of sound business men who run the whole -show." - -"You bet. Here's to the real guys!" - -"I'm with you! Here's to ourselves!" - -It was after the fourth drink that Sir Gerald asked humbly, "What do you think -of North Dakota mortgages?" but it was not till after the fifth that Babbitt -began to call him "Jerry," and Sir Gerald confided, "I say, do you mind if I -pull off my boots?" and ecstatically stretched his knightly feet, his poor, -tired, hot, swollen feet out on the bed. - -After the sixth, Babbitt irregularly arose. "Well, I better be hiking along. -Jerry, you're a regular human being! I wish to thunder we'd been better -acquainted in Zenith. Lookit. Can't you come back and stay with me a while?" - -"So sorry--must go to New York to-morrow. Most awfully sorry, old boy. I -haven't enjoyed an evening so much since I've been in the States. Real talk. -Not all this social rot. I'd never have let them give me the beastly -title--and I didn't get it for nothing, eh?--if I'd thought I'd have to talk -to women about primitives and polo! Goodish thing to have in Nottingham, -though; annoyed the mayor most frightfully when I got it; and of course the -missus likes it. But nobody calls me 'Jerry' now--" He was almost weeping. -"--and nobody in the States has treated me like a friend till to-night! -Good-by, old chap, good-by! Thanks awfully!" - -"Don't mention it, Jerry. And remember whenever you get to Zenith, the -latch-string is always out." - -"And don't forget, old boy. if you ever come to Nottingham, Mother and I will -be frightfully glad to see you. I shall tell the fellows in Nottingham your -ideas about Visions and Real Guys--at our next Rotary Club luncheon." - - -IV - -Babbitt lay abed at his hotel, imagining the Zenith Athletic Club asking him, -"What kind of a time d'you have in Chicago?" and his answering, "Oh, fair; ran -around with Sir Gerald Doak a lot;" picturing himself meeting Lucile McKelvey -and admonishing her, "You're all right, Mrs. Mac, when you aren't trying to -pull this highbrow pose. It's just as Gerald Doak says to me in Chicago--oh, -yes, Jerry's an old friend of mine--the wife and I are thinking of running -over to England to stay with Jerry in his castle, next year--and he said to -me, 'Georgie, old bean, I like Lucile first-rate, but you and me, George, we -got to make her get over this highty-tighty hooptediddle way she's got." - -But that evening a thing happened which wrecked his pride. - - -V - -At the Regency Hotel cigar-counter he fell to talking with a salesman of -pianos, and they dined together. Babbitt was filled with friendliness and -well-being. He enjoyed the gorgeousness of the dining-room: the chandeliers, -the looped brocade curtains, the portraits of French kings against panels of -gilded oak. He enjoyed the crowd: pretty women, good solid fellows who were -"liberal spenders." - -He gasped. He stared, and turned away, and stared again. Three tables off, -with a doubtful sort of woman, a woman at once coy and withered, was Paul -Riesling, and Paul was supposed to be in Akron, selling tar-roofing. The woman -was tapping his hand, mooning at him and giggling. Babbitt felt that he had -encountered something involved and harmful. Paul was talking with the rapt -eagerness of a man who is telling his troubles. He was concentrated on the -woman's faded eyes. Once he held her hand and once, blind to the other guests, -he puckered his lips as though he was pretending to kiss her. Babbitt had so -strong an impulse to go to Paul that he could feel his body uncoiling, his -shoulders moving, but he felt, desperately, that he must be diplomatic, and -not till he saw Paul paying the check did he bluster to the piano-salesman, -"By golly-friend of mine over there--'scuse me second--just say hello to him." - -He touched Paul's shoulder, and cried, "Well, when did you hit town?" - -Paul glared up at him, face hardening. "Oh, hello, George. Thought you'd -gone back to Zenith." He did not introduce his companion. Babbitt peeped at -her. She was a flabbily pretty, weakly flirtatious woman of forty-two or -three, in an atrocious flowery hat. Her rouging was thorough but unskilful. - -"Where you staying, Paulibus?" - -The woman turned, yawned, examined her nails. She seemed accustomed to not -being introduced. - -Paul grumbled, "Campbell Inn, on the South Side." - -"Alone?" It sounded insinuating. - -"Yes! Unfortunately!" Furiously Paul turned toward the woman, smiling with a -fondness sickening to Babbitt. "May! Want to introduce you. Mrs. Arnold, -this is my old-acquaintance, George Babbitt." - -"Pleasmeech," growled Babbitt, while she gurgled, "Oh, I'm very pleased to -meet any friend of Mr. Riesling's, I'm sure." - -Babbitt demanded, "Be back there later this evening, Paul? I'll drop down and -see you." - -"No, better--We better lunch together to-morrow." - -"All right, but I'll see you to-night, too, Paul. I'll go down to your hotel, -and I'll wait for you!" - - - -CHAPTER XX - -I - -HE sat smoking with the piano-salesman, clinging to the warm refuge of gossip, -afraid to venture into thoughts of Paul. He was the more affable on the -surface as secretly he became more apprehensive, felt more hollow. He was -certain that Paul was in Chicago without Zilla's knowledge, and that he was -doing things not at all moral and secure. When the salesman yawned that he had -to write up his orders, Babbitt left him, left the hotel, in leisurely calm. -But savagely he said "Campbell Inn!" to the taxi-driver. He sat agitated on -the slippery leather seat, in that chill dimness which smelled of dust and -perfume and Turkish cigarettes. He did not heed the snowy lake-front, the dark -spaces and sudden bright corners in the unknown land south of the Loop. - -The office of the Campbell Inn was hard, bright, new; the night clerk harder -and brighter. "Yep?" he said to Babbitt. - -"Mr. Paul Riesling registered here?" - -"Yep." - -"Is he in now?" - -"Nope." - -"Then if you'll give me his key, I'll wait for him." - -"Can't do that, brother. Wait down here if you wanna." - -Babbitt had spoken with the deference which all the Clan of Good Fellows give -to hotel clerks. Now he said with snarling abruptness: - -"I may have to wait some time. I'm Riesling's brother-in-law. I'll go up to -his room. D' I look like a sneak-thief?" - -His voice was low and not pleasant. With considerable haste the clerk took -down the key, protesting, "I never said you looked like a sneak-thief. Just -rules of the hotel. But if you want to--" - -On his way up in the elevator Babbitt wondered why he was here. Why shouldn't -Paul be dining with a respectable married woman? Why had he lied to the clerk -about being Paul's brother-in-law? He had acted like a child. He must be -careful not to say foolish dramatic things to Paul. As he settled down he -tried to look pompous and placid. Then the thought--Suicide. He'd been -dreading that, without knowing it. Paul would be just the person to do -something like that. He must be out of his head or he wouldn't be confiding in -that--that dried-up hag. - -Zilla (oh, damn Zilla! how gladly he'd throttle that nagging fiend of a -woman!)--she'd probably succeeded at last, and driven Paul crazy. - -Suicide. Out there in the lake, way out, beyond the piled ice along the -shore. It would be ghastly cold to drop into the water to-night. - -Or--throat cut--in the bathroom-- - -Babbitt flung into Paul's bathroom. It was empty. He smiled, feebly. - -He pulled at his choking collar, looked at his watch, opened the window to -stare down at the street, looked at his watch, tried to read the evening paper -lying on the glass-topped bureau, looked again at his watch. Three minutes had -gone by since he had first looked at it. - -And he waited for three hours. - -He was sitting fixed, chilled, when the doorknob turned. Paul came in -glowering. - -"Hello," Paul said. "Been waiting?" - -"Yuh, little while." - -"Well?" - -"Well what? Just thought I'd drop in to see how you made out in Akron." - -"I did all right. What difference does it make?" - -"Why, gosh, Paul, what are you sore about?" - -"What are you butting into my affairs for?" - -"Why, Paul, that's no way to talk! I'm not butting into nothing. I was so -glad to see your ugly old phiz that I just dropped in to say howdy." - -"Well, I'm not going to have anybody following me around and trying to boss -me. I've had all of that I'm going to stand!" - -"Well, gosh, I'm not--" - -"I didn't like the way you looked at May Arnold, or the snooty way you -talked." - -"Well, all right then! If you think I'm a buttinsky, then I'll just butt in! -I don't know who your May Arnold is, but I know doggone good and well that you -and her weren't talking about tar-roofing, no, nor about playing the violin, -neither! If you haven't got any moral consideration for yourself, you ought to -have some for your position in the community. The idea of your going around -places gawping into a female's eyes like a love-sick pup! I can understand a -fellow slipping once, but I don't propose to see a fellow that's been as -chummy with me as you have getting started on the downward path and sneaking -off from his wife, even as cranky a one as Zilla, to go woman-chasing--" - -"Oh, you're a perfectly moral little husband!" - -"I am, by God! I've never looked at any woman except Myra since I've been -married--practically--and I never will! I tell you there's nothing to -immorality. It don't pay. Can't you see, old man, it just makes Zilla still -crankier?" - -Slight of resolution as he was of body, Paul threw his snow-beaded overcoat on -the floor and crouched on a flimsy cane chair. "Oh, you're an old blowhard, -and you know less about morality than Tinka, but you're all right, Georgie. -But you can't understand that--I'm through. I can't go Zilla's hammering any -longer. She's made up her mind that I'm a devil, and--Reg'lar Inquisition. -Torture. She enjoys it. It's a game to see how sore she can make me. And me, -either it's find a little comfort, any comfort, anywhere, or else do something -a lot worse. Now this Mrs. Arnold, she's not so young, but she's a fine woman -and she understands a fellow, and she's had her own troubles." - -"Yea! I suppose she's one of these hens whose husband 'doesn't understand -her'!" - -"I don't know. Maybe. He was killed in the war." - -Babbitt lumbered up, stood beside Paul patting his shoulder, making soft -apologetic noises. - -"Honest, George, she's a fine woman, and she's had one hell of a time. We -manage to jolly each other up a lot. We tell each other we're the dandiest -pair on earth. Maybe we don't believe it, but it helps a lot to have somebody -with whom you can be perfectly simple, and not all this -discussing--explaining--" - -"And that's as far as you go?" - -"It is not! Go on! Say it!" - -"Well, I don't--I can't say I like it, but--" With a burst which left him -feeling large and shining with generosity, "it's none of my darn business! -I'll do anything I can for you, if there's anything I can do." - -"There might be. I judge from Zilla's letters that 've been forwarded from -Akron that she's getting suspicious about my staying away so long. She'd be -perfectly capable of having me shadowed, and of coming to Chicago and busting -into a hotel dining-room and bawling me out before everybody." - -"I'll take care of Zilla. I'll hand her a good fairy-story when I get back to -Zenith." - -"I don't know--I don't think you better try it. You're a good fellow. but I -don't know that diplomacy is your strong point." Babbitt looked hurt, then -irritated. "I mean with women! With women, I mean. Course they got to go -some to beat you in business diplomacy, but I just mean with women. Zilla may -do a lot of rough talking, but she's pretty shrewd. She'd have the story out -of you in no time." - -"Well, all right, but--" Babbitt was still pathetic at not being allowed to -play Secret Agent. Paul soothed: - -"Course maybe you might tell her you'd been in Akron and seen me there." - -"Why, sure, you bet! Don't I have to go look at that candy-store property in -Akron? Don't I? Ain't it a shame I have to stop off there when I'm so -anxious to get home? Ain't it a regular shame? I'll say it is! I'll say it's -a doggone shame!" - -"Fine. But for glory hallelujah's sake don't go putting any fancy fixings on -the story. When men lie they always try to make it too artistic, and that's -why women get suspicious. And--Let's have a drink, Georgie. I've got some -gin and a little vermouth." - -The Paul who normally refused a second cocktail took a second now, and a -third. He became red-eyed and thick-tongued. He was embarrassingly jocular -and salacious. - -In the taxicab Babbitt incredulously found tears crowding into his eyes. - - -II - -He had not told Paul of his plan but he did stop at Akron, between trains, for -the one purpose of sending to Zilla a postcard with "Had to come here for the -day, ran into Paul." In Zenith he called on her. If for public appearances -Zilla was over-coiffed, over-painted, and resolutely corseted, for private -misery she wore a filthy blue dressing-gown and torn stockings thrust into -streaky pink satin mules. Her face was sunken. She seemed to have but half -as much hair as Babbitt remembered, and that half was stringy. She sat in a -rocker amid a debris of candy-boxes and cheap magazines, and she sounded -dolorous when she did not sound derisive. But Babbitt was exceedingly breezy: - -"Well, well, Zil, old dear, having a good loaf while hubby's away? That's the -ideal I'll bet a hat Myra never got up till ten, while I was in Chicago. Say, -could I borrow your thermos--just dropped in to see if I could borrow your -thermos bottle. We're going to have a toboggan party--want to take some coffee -mit. Oh, did you get my card from Akron, saying I'd run into Paul?" - -"Yes. What was he doing?" - -"How do you mean?" He unbuttoned his overcoat, sat tentatively on the arm of -a chair. - -"You know how I mean!" She slapped the pages of a magazine with an irritable -clatter. "I suppose he was trying to make love to some hotel waitress or -manicure girl or somebody." - -"Hang it, you're always letting on that Paul goes round chasing skirts. He -doesn't, in the first place, and if he did, it would prob'ly be because you -keep hinting at him and dinging at him so much. I hadn't meant to, Zilla, but -since Paul is away, in Akron--" - -"He really is in Akron? I know he has some horrible woman that he writes to -in Chicago." - -"Didn't I tell you I saw him in Akron? What 're you trying to do? Make me out -a liar?" - -"No, but I just--I get so worried." - -"Now, there you are! That's what gets me! Here you love Paul, and yet you -plague him and cuss him out as if you hated him. I simply can't understand why -it is that the more some folks love people, the harder they try to make 'em -miserable." - -"You love Ted and Rone--I suppose--and yet you nag them." - -"Oh. Well. That. That's different. Besides, I don't nag 'em. Not what -you'd call nagging. But zize saying: Now, here's Paul, the nicest, most -sensitive critter on God's green earth. You ought to be ashamed of yourself -the way you pan him. Why, you talk to him like a washerwoman. I'm surprised -you can act so doggone common, Zilla!" - -She brooded over her linked fingers. "Oh, I know. I do go and get mean -sometimes, and I'm sorry afterwards. But, oh, Georgie, Paul is so aggravating! -Honestly, I've tried awfully hard, these last few years, to be nice to him, -but just because I used to be spiteful--or I seemed so; I wasn't, really, but -I used to speak up and say anything that came into my head--and so he made up -his mind that everything was my fault. Everything can't always be my fault, -can it? And now if I get to fussing, he just turns silent, oh, so dreadfully -silent, and he won't look at me--he just ignores me. He simply isn't human! -And he deliberately keeps it up till I bust out and say a lot of things I -don't mean. So silent--Oh, you righteous men! How wicked you are! How rotten -wicked!" - -They thrashed things over and over for half an hour. At the end, weeping -drably, Zilla promised to restrain herself. - -Paul returned four days later, and the Babbitts and Rieslings went festively -to the movies and had chop suey at a Chinese restaurant. As they walked to the -restaurant through a street of tailor shops and barber shops, the two wives in -front, chattering about cooks, Babbitt murmured to Paul, "Zil seems a lot -nicer now." - -"Yes, she has been, except once or twice. But it's too late now. I just--I'm -not going to discuss it, but I'm afraid of her. There's nothing left. I don't -ever want to see her. Some day I'm going to break away from her. Somehow." - - - -CHAPTER XXI - -THE International Organization of Boosters' Clubs has be come a world-force -for optimism, manly pleasantry, and good business. Chapters are to be found -now in thirty countries. Nine hundred and twenty of the thousand chapters, -however, are in the United States. - -None of these is more ardent than the Zenith Boosters' Club. - -The second March lunch of the Zenith Boosters was the most important of the -year, as it was to be followed by the annual election of officers. There was -agitation abroad. The lunch was held in the ballroom of the O'Hearn House. -As each of the four hundred Boosters entered he took from a wall-board a huge -celluloid button announcing his name, his nick name, and his business. There -was a fine of ten cents for calling a Fellow Booster by anything but his -nickname at a lunch, and as Babbitt jovially checked his hat the air was -radiant with shouts of "Hello, Chet!" and "How're you, Shorty!" and "Top o' -the mornin', Mac!" - -They sat at friendly tables for eight, choosing places by lot. Babbitt was -with Albert Boos the merchant tailor, Hector Seybolt of the Little Sweetheart -Condensed Milk Company, Emil Wengert the jeweler, Professor Pumphrey of the -Riteway Business College, Dr. Walter Gorbutt, Roy Teegarten the photographer, -and Ben Berkey the photo-engraver. One of the merits of the Boosters' Club was -that only two persons from each department of business were permitted to join, -so that you at once encountered the Ideals of other occupations, and realized -the metaphysical oneness of all occupations--plumbing and portait-painting, -medicine and the manufacture of chewing-gum. - -Babbitt's table was particularly happy to-day, because Professor Pumphrey had -just had a birthday, and was therefore open to teasing. - -"Let's pump Pump about how old he is!" said Emil Wengert. - -"No, let's paddle him with a dancing-pump!" said Ben Berkey. - -But it was Babbitt who had the applause, with "Don't talk about pumps to that -guy! The only pump he knows is a bottle! Honest, they tell me he's starting a -class in home-brewing at the ole college!" - -At each place was the Boosters' Club booklet, listing the members. Though the -object of the club was good-fellowship, yet they never lost sight of the -importance of doing a little more business. After each name was the member's -occupation. There were scores of advertisements in the booklet, and on one -page the admonition: "There's no rule that you have to trade with your Fellow -Boosters, but get wise, boy--what's the use of letting all this good money get -outside of our happy fambly?" And at each place, to-day, there was a present; -a card printed in artistic red and black: - - - SERVICE AND BOOSTERISM - -Service finds its finest opportunity and development only in its broadest and -deepest application and the consideration of its perpetual action upon -reaction. I believe the highest type of Service, like the most progressive -tenets of ethics, senses unceasingly and is motived by active adherence and -loyalty to that which is the essential principle of Boosterism--Good -Citizenship in all its factors and aspects. - DAD PETERSEN. - - Compliments of Dadbury Petersen Advertising Corp. - "Ads, not Fads, at Dad's" - - -The Boosters all read Mr. Peterson's aphorism and said they understood it -perfectly. - -The meeting opened with the regular weekly "stunts." Retiring President Vergil -Gunch was in the chair, his stiff hair like a hedge, his voice like a brazen -gong of festival. Members who had brought guests introduced them publicly. -"This tall red-headed piece of misinformation is the sporting editor of the -Press," said Willis Ijams; and H. H. Hazen, the druggist, chanted, "Boys, when -you're on a long motor tour and finally get to a romantic spot or scene and -draw up and remark to the wife, 'This is certainly a romantic place,' it sends -a glow right up and down your vertebrae. Well, my guest to-day is from such a -place, Harper's Ferry, Virginia, in the beautiful Southland, with memories of -good old General Robert E. Lee and of that brave soul, John Brown who, like -every good Booster, goes marching on--" - -There were two especially distinguished guests: the leading man of the "Bird -of Paradise" company, playing this week at the Dodsworth Theater, and the -mayor of Zenith, the Hon. Lucas Prout. - -Vergil Gunch thundered, "When we manage to grab this celebrated Thespian off -his lovely aggregation of beautiful actresses--and I got to admit I butted -right into his dressing-room and told him how the Boosters appreciated the -high-class artistic performance he's giving us--and don't forget that the -treasurer of the Dodsworth is a Booster and will appreciate our patronage--and -when on top of that we yank Hizzonor out of his multifarious duties at City -Hall, then I feel we've done ourselves proud, and Mr. Prout will now say a few -words about the problems and duties--" - -By rising vote the Boosters decided which was the handsomest and which the -ugliest guest, and to each of them was given a bunch of carnations, donated, -President Gunch noted, by Brother Booster H. G. Yeager, the Jennifer Avenue -florist. - -Each week, in rotation, four Boosters were privileged to obtain the pleasures -of generosity and of publicity by donating goods or services to four -fellow-members, chosen by lot. There was laughter, this week, when it was -announced that one of the contributors was Barnabas Joy, the undertaker. -Everybody whispered, "I can think of a coupla good guys to be buried if his -donation is a free funeral!" - -Through all these diversions the Boosters were lunching on chicken croquettes, -peas, fried potatoes, coffee, apple pie, and American cheese. Gunch did not -lump the speeches. Presently he called on the visiting secretary of the -Zenith Rotary Club, a rival organization. The secretary had the distinction -of possessing State Motor Car License Number 5. - -The Rotary secretary laughingly admitted that wherever he drove in the state -so low a number created a sensation, and "though it was pretty nice to have -the honor, yet traffic cops remembered it only too darn well, and sometimes he -didn't know but what he'd almost as soon have just plain B56,876 or something -like that. Only let any doggone Booster try to get Number 5 away from a live -Rotarian next year, and watch the fur fly! And if they'd permit him, he'd wind -up by calling for a cheer for the Boosters and Rotarians and the Kiwanis all -together!" - -Babbitt sighed to Professor Pumphrey, "Be pretty nice to have as low a number -as that! Everybody 'd say, 'He must be an important guy!' Wonder how he got -it? I'll bet he wined and dined the superintendent of the Motor License -Bureau to a fare-you-well!" - -Then Chum Frink addressed them: - -"Some of you may feel that it's out of place here to talk on a strictly -highbrow and artistic subject, but I want to come out flatfooted and ask you -boys to O.K. the proposition of a Symphony Orchestra for Zenith. Now, where a -lot of you make your mistake is in assuming that if you don't like classical -music and all that junk, you ought to oppose it. Now, I want to confess that, -though I'm a literary guy by profession, I don't care a rap for all this -long-haired music. I'd rather listen to a good jazz band any time than to some -piece by Beethoven that hasn't any more tune to it than a bunch of fighting -cats, and you couldn't whistle it to save your life! But that isn't the point. -Culture has become as necessary an adornment and advertisement for a city -to-day as pavements or bank-clearances. It's Culture, in theaters and -art-galleries and so on, that brings thousands of visitors to New York every -year and, to be frank, for all our splendid attainments we haven't yet got the -Culture of a New York or Chicago or Boston--or at least we don't get the -credit for it. The thing to do then, as a live bunch of go-getters, is to -CAPITALIZE CULTURE; to go right out and grab it. - -"Pictures and books are fine for those that have the time to study 'em, but -they don't shoot out on the road and holler 'This is what little old Zenith -can put up in the way of Culture.' That's precisely what a Symphony Orchestra -does do. Look at the credit Minneapolis and Cincinnati get. An orchestra with -first-class musickers and a swell conductor--and I believe we ought to do the -thing up brown and get one of the highest-paid conductors on the market, -providing he ain't a Hun--it goes right into Beantown and New York and -Washington; it plays at the best theaters to the most cultured and moneyed -people; it gives such class-advertising as a town can get in no other way; and -the guy who is so short-sighted as to crab this orchestra proposition is -passing up the chance to impress the glorious name of Zenith on some big New -York millionaire that might-that might establish a branch factory here! - -"I could also go into the fact that for our daughters who show an interest in -highbrow music and may want to teach it, having an A1 local organization is of -great benefit, but let's keep this on a practical basis, and I call on you -good brothers to whoop it up for Culture and a World-beating Symphony -Orchestra!" - -They applauded. - -To a rustle of excitement President Gunch proclaimed, "Gentlemen, we will now -proceed to the annual election of officers." For each of the six offices, -three candidates had been chosen by a committee. The second name among the -candidates for vice-president was Babbitt's. - -He was surprised. He looked self-conscious. His heart pounded. He was still -more agitated when the ballots were counted and Gunch said, "It's a pleasure -to announce that Georgie Babbitt will be the next assistant gavel-wielder. I -know of no man who stands more stanchly for common sense and enterprise than -good old George. Come on, let's give him our best long yell!" - -As they adjourned, a hundred men crushed in to slap his back. He had never -known a higher moment. He drove away in a blur of wonder. He lunged into his -office, chuckling to Miss McGoun, "Well, I guess you better congratulate your -boss! Been elected vice-president of the Boosters!" - -He was disappointed. She answered only, "Yes--Oh, Mrs. Babbitt's been trying -to get you on the 'phone." But the new salesman, Fritz Weilinger, said, "By -golly, chief, say, that's great, that's perfectly great! I'm tickled to death! -Congratulations!" - -Babbitt called the house, and crowed to his wife, "Heard you were trying to -get me, Myra. Say, you got to hand it to little Georgie, this time! Better -talk careful! You are now addressing the vice-president of the Boosters' -Club!" - -"Oh, Georgie--" - -"Pretty nice, huh? Willis Ijams is the new president, but when he's away, -little ole Georgie takes the gavel and whoops 'em up and introduces the -speakers--no matter if they're the governor himself--and--" - -"George! Listen!" - -"--It puts him in solid with big men like Doc Dilling and--" - -"George! Paul Riesling--" - -"Yes, sure, I'll 'phone Paul and let him know about it right away." - -"Georgie! LISTEN! Paul's in jail. He shot his wife, he shot Zilla, this -noon. She may not live." - - - -CHAPTER XXII - -I - -HE drove to the City Prison, not blindly, but with unusual fussy care at -corners, the fussiness of an old woman potting plants. It kept him from facing -the obscenity of fate. - -The attendant said, "Naw, you can't see any of the prisoners till -three-thirty--visiting-hour." - -It was three. For half an hour Babbitt sat looking at a calendar and a clock -on a whitewashed wall. The chair was hard and mean and creaky. People went -through the office and, he thought, stared at him. He felt a belligerent -defiance which broke into a wincing fear of this machine which was grinding -Paul--Paul - -Exactly at half-past three he sent in his name. - -The attendant returned with "Riesling says he don't want to see you." - -"You're crazy! You didn't give him my name! Tell him it's George wants to -see him, George Babbitt." - -"Yuh, I told him, all right, all right! He said he didn't want to see you." - -"Then take me in anyway." - -"Nothing doing. If you ain't his lawyer, if he don't want to see you, that's -all there is to it." - -"But, my GOD--Say, let me see the warden." - -"He's busy. Come on, now, you--" Babbitt reared over him. The attendant -hastily changed to a coaxing "You can come back and try to-morrow. Probably -the poor guy is off his nut." - -Babbitt drove, not at all carefully or fussily, sliding viciously past trucks, -ignoring the truckmen's curses, to the City Hall; he stopped with a grind of -wheels against the curb, and ran up the marble steps to the office of the Hon. -Mr. Lucas Prout, the mayor. He bribed the mayor's doorman with a dollar; he -was instantly inside, demanding, "You remember me, Mr. Prout? -Babbitt--vice-president of the Boosters--campaigned for you? Say, have you -heard about poor Riesling? Well, I want an order on the warden or whatever -you call um of the City Prison to take me back and see him. Good. Thanks." - -In fifteen minutes he was pounding down the prison corridor to a cage where -Paul Riesling sat on a cot, twisted like an old beggar, legs crossed, arms in -a knot, biting at his clenched fist. - -Paul looked up blankly as the keeper unlocked the cell, admitted Babbitt, and -left them together. He spoke slowly: "Go on! Be moral!" - -Babbitt plumped on the couch beside him. "I'm not going to be moral! I don't -care what happened! I just want to do anything I can. I'm glad Zilla got what -was coming to her." - -Paul said argumentatively, "Now, don't go jumping on Zilla. I've been -thinking; maybe she hasn't had any too easy a time. Just after I shot her--I -didn't hardly mean to, but she got to deviling me so I went crazy, just for a -second, and pulled out that old revolver you and I used to shoot rabbits with, -and took a crack at her. Didn't hardly mean to--After that, when I was trying -to stop the blood--It was terrible what it did to her shoulder, and she had -beautiful skin--Maybe she won't die. I hope it won't leave her skin all -scarred. But just afterward, when I was hunting through the bathroom for some -cotton to stop the blood, I ran onto a little fuzzy yellow duck we hung on the -tree one Christmas, and I remembered she and I'd been awfully happy -then--Hell. I can't hardly believe it's me here." As Babbitt's arm tightened -about his shoulder, Paul sighed, "I'm glad you came. But I thought maybe -you'd lecture me, and when you've committed a murder, and been brought here -and everything--there was a big crowd outside the apartment house, all -staring, and the cops took me through it--Oh, I'm not going to talk about it -any more." - -But he went on, in a monotonous, terrified insane mumble. To divert him -Babbitt said, "Why, you got a scar on your cheek." - -"Yes. That's where the cop hit me. I suppose cops get a lot of fun out of -lecturing murderers, too. He was a big fellow. And they wouldn't let me help -carry Zilla down to the ambulance." - -"Paul! Quit it! Listen: she won't die, and when it's all over you and I'll -go off to Maine again. And maybe we can get that May Arnold to go along. I'll -go up to Chicago and ask her. Good woman, by golly. And afterwards I'll see -that you get started in business out West somewhere, maybe Seattle--they say -that's a lovely city." - -Paul was half smiling. It was Babbitt who rambled now. He could not tell -whether Paul was heeding, but he droned on till the coming of Paul's lawyer, -P. J. Maxwell, a thin, busy, unfriendly man who nodded at Babbitt and hinted, -"If Riesling and I could be alone for a moment--" - -Babbitt wrung Paul's hands, and waited in the office till Maxwell came -pattering out. "Look, old man, what can I do?" he begged. - -"Nothing. Not a thing. Not just now," said Maxwell. "Sorry. Got to hurry. -And don't try to see him. I've had the doctor give him a shot of morphine, so -he'll sleep." - -It seemed somehow wicked to return to the office. Babbitt felt as though he -had just come from a funeral. He drifted out to the City Hospital to inquire -about Zilla. She was not likely to die, he learned. The bullet from Paul's -huge old .44 army revolver had smashed her shoulder and torn upward and out. - -He wandered home and found his wife radiant with the hor-ified interest we -have in the tragedies of our friends. "Of course Paul isn't altogether to -blame, but this is what comes of his chasing after other women instead of -bearing his cross in a Christian way," she exulted. - -He was too languid to respond as he desired. He said what was to be said -about the Christian bearing of crosses, and went out to clean the car. Dully, -patiently, he scraped linty grease from the drip-pan, gouged at the mud caked -on the wheels. He used up many minutes in washing his hands; scoured them with -gritty kitchen soap; rejoiced in hurting his plump knuckles. "Damn soft -hands--like a woman's. Aah!" - -At dinner, when his wife began the inevitable, he bellowed, "I forbid any of -you to say a word about Paul! I'll 'tend to all the talking about this that's -necessary, hear me? There's going to be one house in this scandal-mongering -town to-night that isn't going to spring the holier-than-thou. And throw those -filthy evening papers out of the house!" - -But he himself read the papers, after dinner. - -Before nine he set out for the house of Lawyer Maxwell. He was received -without cordiality. "Well?" said Maxwell. - -"I want to offer my services in the trial. I've got an idea. Why couldn't I -go on the stand and swear I was there, and she pulled the gun first and he -wrestled with her and the gun went off accidentally?" - -"And perjure yourself?" - -"Huh? Yes, I suppose it would be perjury. Oh--Would it help?" - -"But, my dear fellow! Perjury!" - -"Oh, don't be a fool! Excuse me, Maxwell; I didn't mean to get your goat. I -just mean: I've known and you've known many and many a case of perjury, just -to annex some rotten little piece of real estate, and here where it's a case -of saving Paul from going to prison, I'd perjure myself black in the face." - -"No. Aside from the ethics of the matter, I'm afraid it isn't practicable. The -prosecutor would tear your testimony to pieces. It's known that only Riesling -and his wife were there at the time." - -"Then, look here! Let me go on the stand and swear--and this would be the -God's truth--that she pestered him till he kind of went crazy." - -"No. Sorry. Riesling absolutely refuses to have any testimony reflecting on -his wife. He insists on pleading guilty." - -"Then let me get up and testify something--whatever you say. Let me do -SOMETHING!" - -"I'm sorry, Babbitt, but the best thing you can do--I hate to say it, but you -could help us most by keeping strictly out of it." - -Babbitt, revolving his hat like a defaulting poor tenant, winced so visibly -that Maxwell condescended: - -"I don't like to hurt your feelings, but you see we both want to do our best -for Riesling, and we mustn't consider any other factor. The trouble with you, -Babbitt, is that you're one of these fellows who talk too readily. You like -to hear your own voice. If there were anything for which I could put you in -the witness-box, you'd get going and give the whole show away. Sorry. Now I -must look over some papers--So sorry." - - -II - -He spent most of the next morning nerving himself to face the garrulous world -of the Athletic Club. They would talk about Paul; they would be lip-licking -and rotten. But at the Roughnecks' Table they did not mention Paul. They -spoke with zeal of the coming baseball season. He loved them as he never had -before. - - -III - -He had, doubtless from some story-book, pictured Paul's trial as a long -struggle, with bitter arguments, a taut crowd, and sudden and overwhelming new -testimony. Actually, the trial occupied less than fifteen minutes, largely -filled with the evidence of doctors that Zilla would recover and that Paul -must have been temporarily insane. Next day Paul was sentenced to three years -in the State Penitentiary and taken off--quite undramatically, not handcuffed, -merely plodding in a tired way beside a cheerful deputy sheriff--and after -saying good-by to him at the station Babbitt returned to his office to realize -that he faced a world which, without Paul, was meaningless. - - - -CHAPTER XXIII - -I - -HE was busy, from March to June. He kept himself from the bewilderment of -thinking. His wife and the neighbors were generous. Every evening he played -bridge or attended the movies, and the days were blank of face and silent. - -In June, Mrs. Babbitt and Tinka went East, to stay with relatives, and Babbitt -was free to do--he was not quite sure what. - -All day long after their departure he thought of the emancipated house in -which he could, if he desired, go mad and curse the gods without having to -keep up a husbandly front. He considered, "I could have a reg'lar party -to-night; stay out till two and not do any explaining afterwards. Cheers!" -He telephoned to Vergil Gunch, to Eddie Swanson. Both of them were engaged -for the evening, and suddenly he was bored by having to take so much trouble -to be riotous. - -He was silent at dinner, unusually kindly to Ted and Verona, hesitating but -not disapproving when Verona stated her opinion of Kenneth Escott's opinion of -Dr. John Jennison Drew's opinion of the opinions of the evolutionists. Ted -was working in a garage through the summer vacation, and he related his daily -triumphs: how he had found a cracked ball-race, what he had said to the Old -Grouch, what he had said to the foreman about the future of wireless -telephony. - -Ted and Verona went to a dance after dinner. Even the maid was out. Rarely -had Babbitt been alone in the house for an entire evening. He was restless. -He vaguely wanted something more diverting than the newspaper comic strips to -read. He ambled up to Verona's room, sat on her maidenly blue and white bed, -humming and grunting in a solid-citizen manner as he examined her books: -Conrad's "Rescue," a volume strangely named "Figures of Earth," poetry (quite -irregular poetry, Babbitt thought) by Vachel Lindsay, and essays by H. L. -Mencken--highly improper essays, making fun of the church and all the -decencies. He liked none of the books. In them he felt a spirit of rebellion -against niceness and solid-citizenship. These authors--and he supposed they -were famous ones, too--did not seem to care about telling a good story which -would enable a fellow to forget his troubles. He sighed. He noted a book, -"The Three Black Pennies," by Joseph Hergesheimer. Ah, that was something -like it! It would be an adventure story, maybe about -counterfeiting--detectives sneaking up on the old house at night. He tucked -the book under his arm, he clumped down-stairs and solemnly began to read, -under the piano-lamp: - -"A twilight like blue dust sifted into the shallow fold of the thickly wooded -hills. It was early October, but a crisping frost had already stamped the -maple trees with gold, the Spanish oaks were hung with patches of wine red, -the sumach was brilliant in the darkening underbrush. A pattern of wild geese, -flying low and unconcerned above the hills, wavered against the serene ashen -evening. Howat Penny, standing in the comparative clearing of a road, decided -that the shifting regular flight would not come close enough for a shot.... He -had no intention of hunting the geese. With the drooping of day his keenness -had evaporated; an habitual indifference strengthened, permeating him...." - -There it was again: discontent with the good common ways. Babbitt laid down -the book and listened to the stillness. The inner doors of the house were -open. He heard from the kitchen the steady drip of the refrigerator, a rhythm -demanding and disquieting. He roamed to the window. The summer evening was -foggy and, seen through the wire screen, the street lamps were crosses of pale -fire. The whole world was abnormal. While he brooded, Verona and Ted came in -and went up to bed. Silence thickened in the sleeping house. He put on his -hat, his respectable derby, lighted a cigar, and walked up and down before the -house, a portly, worthy, unimaginative figure, humming "Silver Threads among -the Gold." He casually considered, "Might call up Paul." Then he remembered. -He saw Paul in a jailbird's uniform, but while he agonized he didn't believe -the tale. It was part of the unreality of this fog-enchanted evening. - -If she were here Myra would be hinting, "Isn't it late, Georgie?" He tramped -in forlorn and unwanted freedom. Fog hid the house now. The world was -uncreated, a chaos without turmoil or desire. - -Through the mist came a man at so feverish a pace that he seemed to dance with -fury as he entered the orb of glow from a street-lamp. At each step he -brandished his stick and brought it down with a crash. His glasses on their -broad pretentious ribbon banged against his stomach. Babbitt incredulously saw -that it was Chum Frink. - -Frink stopped, focused his vision, and spoke with gravity: - -"There's another fool. George Babbitt. Lives for renting howshes--houses. -Know who I am? I'm traitor to poetry. I'm drunk. I'm talking too much. I -don't care. Know what I could 've been? I could 've been a Gene Field or a -James Whitcomb Riley. Maybe a Stevenson. I could 've. Whimsies. -'Magination. Lissen. Lissen to this. Just made it up: - - Glittering summery meadowy noise - Of beetles and bums and respectable boys. - -Hear that? Whimzh--whimsy. I made that up. I don't know what it means! -Beginning good verse. Chile's Garden Verses. And whadi write? Tripe! -Cheer-up poems. All tripe! Could have written--Too late!" - -He darted on with an alarming plunge, seeming always to pitch forward yet -never quite falling. Babbitt would have been no more astonished and no less -had a ghost skipped out of the fog carrying his head. He accepted Frink with -vast apathy; he grunted, "Poor boob!" and straightway forgot him. - -He plodded into the house, deliberately went to the refrigerator and rifled -it. When Mrs. Babbitt was at home, this was one of the major household -crimes. He stood before the covered laundry tubs, eating a chicken leg and -half a saucer of raspberry jelly, and grumbling over a clammy cold boiled -potato. He was thinking. It was coming to him that perhaps all life as he -knew it and vigorously practised it was futile; that heaven as portrayed by -the Reverend Dr. John Jennison Drew was neither probable nor very interesting; -that he hadn't much pleasure out of making money; that it was of doubtful -worth to rear children merely that they might rear children who would rear -children. What was it all about? What did he want? - -He blundered into the living-room, lay on the davenport, hands behind his -head. - -What did he want? Wealth? Social position? Travel? Servants? Yes, but -only incidentally. - -"I give it up," he sighed. - -But he did know that he wanted the presence of Paul Riesling; and from that he -stumbled into the admission that he wanted the fairy girl--in the flesh. If -there had been a woman whom he loved, he would have fled to her, humbled his -forehead on her knees. - -He thought of his stenographer, Miss McGoun. He thought of the prettiest of -the manicure girls at the Hotel Thornleigh barber shop. As he fell asleep on -the davenport he felt that he had found something in life, and that he had -made a terrifying, thrilling break with everything that was decent and normal. - - -II - -He had forgotten, next morning, that he was a conscious rebel, but he was -irritable in the office and at the eleven o'clock drive of telephone calls and -visitors he did something he had often desired and never dared: he left the -office without excuses to those stave-drivers his employees, and went to the -movies. He enjoyed the right to be alone. He came out with a vicious -determination to do what he pleased. - -As he approached the Roughnecks' Table at the club, everybody laughed. - -"Well, here's the millionaire!" said Sidney Finkelstein. - -"Yes, I saw him in his Locomobile!" said Professor Pumphrey. - -"Gosh, it must be great to be a smart guy like Georgie!" moaned Vergil Gunch. -"He's probably stolen all of Dorchester. I'd hate to leave a poor little -defenseless piece of property lying around where he could get his hooks on -it!" - -They had, Babbitt perceived, "something on him." Also, they "had their -kidding clothes on." Ordinarily he would have been delighted at the honor -implied in being chaffed, but he was suddenly touchy. He grunted, "Yuh, sure; -maybe I'll take you guys on as office boys!" He was impatient as the jest -elaborately rolled on to its denouement. - -"Of course he may have been meeting a girl," they said, and "No, I think he -was waiting for his old roommate, Sir Jerusalem Doak." - -He exploded, "Oh, spring it, spring it, you boneheads! What's the great joke?" - -"Hurray! George is peeved!" snickered Sidney Finkelstein, while a grin went -round the table. Gunch revealed the shocking truth: He had seen Babbitt -coming out of a motion-picture theater--at noon! - -They kept it up. With a hundred variations, a hundred guffaws, they said that -he had gone to the movies during business-hours. He didn't so much mind Gunch, -but he was annoyed by Sidney Finkelstein, that brisk, lean, red-headed -explainer of jokes. He was bothered, too, by the lump of ice in his glass of -water. It was too large; it spun round and burned his nose when he tried to -drink. He raged that Finkelstein was like that lump of ice. But he won -through; he kept up his banter till they grew tired of the superlative jest -and turned to the great problems of the day. - -He reflected, "What's the matter with me to-day? Seems like I've got an awful -grouch. Only they talk so darn much. But I better steer careful and keep my -mouth shut." - -As they lighted their cigars he mumbled, "Got to get back," and on a chorus of -"If you WILL go spending your mornings with lady ushers at the movies!" he -escaped. He heard them giggling. He was embarrassed. While he was most -bombastically agreeing with the coat-man that the weather was warm, he was -conscious that he was longing to run childishly with his troubles to the -comfort of the fairy child. - - -III - -He kept Miss McGoun after he had finished dictating. He searched for a topic -which would warm her office impersonality into friendliness. - -"Where you going on your vacation?" he purred. - -"I think I'll go up-state to a farm do you want me to have the Siddons lease -copied this afternoon?" - -"Oh, no hurry about it.... I suppose you have a great time when you get away -from us cranks in the office." - -She rose and gathered her pencils. "Oh, nobody's cranky here I think I can -get it copied after I do the letters." - -She was gone. Babbitt utterly repudiated the view that he had been trying to -discover how approachable was Miss McGoun. "Course! knew there was nothing -doing!" he said. IV - -Eddie Swanson, the motor-car agent who lived across the street from Babbitt, -was giving a Sunday supper. His wife Louetta, young Louetta who loved jazz in -music and in clothes and laughter, was at her wildest. She cried, "We'll have -a real party!" as she received the guests. Babbitt had uneasily felt that to -many men she might be alluring; now he admitted that to himself she was -overwhelmingly alluring. Mrs. Babbitt had never quite approved of Louetta; -Babbitt was glad that she was not here this evening. - -He insisted on helping Louetta in the kitchen: taking the chicken croquettes -from the warming-oven, the lettuce sandwiches from the ice-box. He held her -hand, once, and she depressingly didn't notice it. She caroled, "You're a good -little mother's-helper, Georgie. Now trot in with the tray and leave it on -the side-table." - -He wished that Eddie Swanson would give them cocktails; that Louetta would -have one. He wanted--Oh, he wanted to be one of these Bohemians you read -about. Studio parties. Wild lovely girls who were independent. Not -necessarily bad. Certainly not! But not tame, like Floral Heights. How he'd -ever stood it all these years-- - -Eddie did not give them cocktails. True, they supped with mirth, and with -several repetitions by Orville Jones of "Any time Louetta wants to come sit on -my lap I'll tell this sandwich to beat it!" but they were respectable, as -befitted Sunday evening. Babbitt had discreetly preempted a place beside -Louetta on the piano bench. While he talked about motors, while he listened -with a fixed smile to her account of the film she had seen last Wednesday, -while he hoped that she would hurry up and finish her description of the plot, -the beauty of the leading man, and the luxury of the setting, he studied her. -Slim waist girdled with raw silk, strong brows, ardent eyes, hair parted above -a broad forehead--she meant youth to him and a charm which saddened. He -thought of how valiant a companion she would be on a long motor tour, -exploring mountains, picnicking in a pine grove high above a valley. Her -frailness touched him; he was angry at Eddie Swanson for the incessant family -bickering. All at once he identified Louetta with the fairy girl. He was -startled by the conviction that they had always had a romantic attraction for -each other. - -"I suppose you're leading a simply terrible life, now you're a widower," she -said. - -"You bet! I'm a bad little fellow and proud of it. Some evening you slip -Eddie some dope in his coffee and sneak across the road and I'll show you how -to mix a cocktail," he roared. - -"Well, now, I might do it! You never can tell!" - -"Well, whenever you're ready, you just hang a towel out of the attic window -and I'll jump for the gin!" - -Every one giggled at this naughtiness. In a pleased way Eddie Swanson stated -that he would have a physician analyze his coffee daily. The others were -diverted to a discussion of the more agreeable recent murders, but Babbitt -drew Louetta back to personal things: - -"That's the prettiest dress I ever saw in my life." - -"Do you honestly like it?" - -"Like it? Why, say, I'm going to have Kenneth Escott put a piece in the paper -saying that the swellest dressed woman in the U. S. is Mrs. E. Louetta -Swanson." - -"Now, you stop teasing me!" But she beamed. "Let's dance a little. George, -you've got to dance with me." - -Even as he protested, "Oh, you know what a rotten dancer I am!" he was -lumbering to his feet. - -"I'll teach you. I can teach anybody." - -Her eyes were moist, her voice was jagged with excitement. He was convinced -that he had won her. He clasped her, conscious of her smooth warmth, and -solemnly he circled in a heavy version of the one-step. He bumped into only -one or two people. "Gosh, I'm not doing so bad; hittin' 'em up like a regular -stage dancer!" he gloated; and she answered busily, "Yes--yes--I told you I -could teach anybody--DON'T TAKE SUCH LONG STEPS!" - -For a moment he was robbed of confidence; with fearful concentration he sought -to keep time to the music. But he was enveloped again by her enchantment. -"She's got to like me; I'll make her!" he vowed. He tried to kiss the lock -beside her ear. She mechanically moved her head to avoid it, and mechanically -she murmured, "Don't!" - -For a moment he hated her, but after the moment he was as urgent as ever. He -danced with Mrs. Orville Jones, but he watched Louetta swooping down the -length of the room with her husband. "Careful! You're getting foolish!" he -cautioned himself, the while he hopped and bent his solid knees in dalliance -with Mrs. Jones, and to that worthy lady rumbled, "Gee, it's hot!" Without -reason, he thought of Paul in that shadowy place where men never dance. "I'm -crazy to-night; better go home," he worried, but he left Mrs. Jones and dashed -to Louetta's lovely side, demanding, "The next is mine." - -"Oh, I'm so hot; I'm not going to dance this one." - -"Then," boldly, "come out and sit on the porch and get all nice and cool." - -"Well--" - -In the tender darkness, with the clamor in the house behind them, he -resolutely took her hand. She squeezed his once, then relaxed. - -"Louetta! I think you're the nicest thing I know!" - -"Well, I think you're very nice." - -"Do you? You got to like me! I'm so lonely!" - -"Oh, you'll be all right when your wife comes home." - -"No, I'm always lonely." - -She clasped her hands under her chin, so that he dared not touch her. He -sighed: - -"When I feel punk and--" He was about to bring in the tragedy of Paul, but -that was too sacred even for the diplomacy of love. "--when I get tired out at -the office and everything, I like to look across the street and think of you. -Do you know I dreamed of you, one time!" - -"Was it a nice dream?" - -"Lovely!" - -"Oh, well, they say dreams go by opposites! Now I must run in." - -She was on her feet. - -"Oh, don't go in yet! Please, Louetta!" - -"Yes, I must. Have to look out for my guests." - -"Let 'em look out for 'emselves!" - -"I couldn't do that." She carelessly tapped his shoulder and slipped away. - -But after two minutes of shamed and childish longing to sneak home he was -snorting, "Certainly I wasn't trying to get chummy with her! Knew there was -nothing doing, all the time!" and he ambled in to dance with Mrs. Orville -Jones, and to avoid Louetta, virtuously and conspicuously. - - - -CHAPTER XXIV - -I - -HIS visit to Paul was as unreal as his night of fog and questioning. Unseeing -he went through prison corridors stinking of carbolic acid to a room lined -with pale yellow settees pierced in rosettes, like the shoe-store benches he -had known as a boy. The guard led in Paul. Above his uniform of linty gray, -Paul's face was pale and without expression. He moved timorously in response -to the guard's commands; he meekly pushed Babbitt's gifts of tobacco and -magazines across the table to the guard for examination. He had nothing to -say but "Oh, I'm getting used to it" and "I'm working in the tailor shop; the -stuff hurts my fingers." - -Babbitt knew that in this place of death Paul was already dead. And as he -pondered on the train home something in his own self seemed to have died: a -loyal and vigorous faith in the goodness of the world, a fear of public -disfavor, a pride in success. He was glad that his wife was away. He admitted -it without justifying it. He did not care. - - -II - -Her card read "Mrs. Daniel Judique." Babbitt knew of her as the widow of a -wholesale paper-dealer. She must have been forty or forty-two but he thought -her younger when he saw her in the office, that afternoon. She had come to -inquire about renting an apartment, and he took her away from the unskilled -girl accountant. He was nervously attracted by her smartness. She was a -slender woman, in a black Swiss frock dotted with white, a cool-looking -graceful frock. A broad black hat shaded her face. Her eyes were lustrous, -her soft chin of an agreeable plumpness, and her cheeks an even rose. Babbitt -wondered afterward if she was made up, but no man living knew less of such -arts. - -She sat revolving her violet parasol. Her voice was appealing without being -coy. "I wonder if you can help me?" - -"Be delighted." - -"I've looked everywhere and--I want a little flat, just a bedroom, or perhaps -two, and sitting-room and kitchenette and bath, but I want one that really has -some charm to it, not these dingy places or these new ones with terrible gaudy -chandeliers. And I can't pay so dreadfully much. My name's Tanis Judique." - -"I think maybe I've got just the thing for you. Would you like to chase -around and look at it now?" - -"Yes. I have a couple of hours." - -In the new Cavendish Apartments, Babbitt had a flat which he had been holding -for Sidney Finkelstein, but at the thought of driving beside this agreeable -woman he threw over his friend Finkelstein, and with a note of gallantry he -proclaimed, "I'll let you see what I can do!" - -He dusted the seat of the car for her, and twice he risked death in showing -off his driving. - -"You do know how to handle a car!" she said. - -He liked her voice. There was, he thought, music in it and a hint of culture, -not a bouncing giggle like Louetta Swanson's. - -He boasted, "You know, there's a lot of these fellows that are so scared and -drive so slow that they get in everybody's way. The safest driver is a fellow -that knows how to handle his machine and yet isn't scared to speed up when -it's necessary, don't you think so?" - -"Oh, yes!" - -"I bet you drive like a wiz." - -"Oh, no--I mean--not really. Of course, we had a car--I mean, before my -husband passed on--and I used to make believe drive it, but I don't think any -woman ever learns to drive like a man." - -"Well, now, there's some mighty good woman drivers." - -"Oh, of course, these women that try to imitate men, and play golf and -everything, and ruin their complexions and spoil their hands!" - -"That's so. I never did like these mannish females." - -"I mean--of course, I admire them, dreadfully, and I feel so weak and useless -beside them." - -"Oh, rats now! I bet you play the piano like a wiz." - -"Oh, no--I mean--not really." - -"Well, I'll bet you do!" He glanced at her smooth hands, her diamond and ruby -rings. She caught the glance, snuggled her hands together with a kittenish -curving of slim white fingers which delighted him, and yearned: - -"I do love to play--I mean--I like to drum on the piano, but I haven't had any -real training. Mr. Judique used to say I would 've been a good pianist if I'd -had any training, but then, I guess he was just flattering me." - -"I'll bet he wasn't! I'll bet you've got temperament." - -"Oh--Do you like music, Mr Babbitt?" - -"You bet I do! Only I don't know 's I care so much for all this classical -stuff." - -"Oh, I do! I just love Chopin and all those." - -"Do you, honest? Well, of course, I go to lots of these highbrow concerts, -but I do like a good jazz orchestra, right up on its toes, with the fellow -that plays the bass fiddle spinning it around and beating it up with the bow." - -"Oh, I know. I do love good dance music. I love to dance, don't you, Mr. -Babbitt?" - -"Sure, you bet. Not that I'm very darn good at it, though." - -"Oh, I'm sure you are. You ought to let me teach you. I can teach anybody to -dance." - -"Would you give me a lesson some time?" - -"Indeed I would." - -"Better be careful, or I'll be taking you up on that proposition. I'll be -coming up to your flat and making you give me that lesson." - -"Ye-es." She was not offended, but she was non-committal. He warned himself, -"Have some sense now, you chump! Don't go making a fool of yourself again!" -and with loftiness he discoursed: - -"I wish I could dance like some of these young fellows, but I'll tell you: I -feel it's a man's place to take a full, you might say, a creative share in the -world's work and mold conditions and have something to show for his life, -don't you think so?" - -"Oh, I do!" - -"And so I have to sacrifice some of the things I might like to tackle, though -I do, by golly, play about as good a game of golf as the next fellow!" - -"Oh, I'm sure you do.... Are you married?" - -"Uh--yes.... And, uh, of course official duties I'm the vice-president of the -Boosters' Club, and I'm running one of the committees of the State Association -of Real Estate Boards, and that means a lot of work and responsibility--and -practically no gratitude for it." - -"Oh, I know! Public men never do get proper credit." - -They looked at each other with a high degree of mutual respect, and at the -Cavendish Apartments he helped her out in a courtly manner, waved his hand at -the house as though he were presenting it to her, and ponderously ordered the -elevator boy to "hustle and get the keys." She stood close to him in the -elevator, and he was stirred but cautious. - -It was a pretty flat, of white woodwork and soft blue walls. Mrs. Judique -gushed with pleasure as she agreed to take it, and as they walked down the -hall to the elevator she touched his sleeve, caroling, "Oh, I'm so glad I went -to you! It's such a privilege to meet a man who really Understands. Oh! The -flats SOME people have showed me!" - -He had a sharp instinctive belief that he could put his arm around her, but he -rebuked himself and with excessive politeness he saw her to the car, drove her -home. All the way back to his office he raged: - -"Glad I had some sense for once.... Curse it, I wish I'd tried. She's a -darling! A corker! A reg'lar charmer! Lovely eyes and darling lips and that -trim waist--never get sloppy, like some women.... No, no, no! She's a real -cultured lady. One of the brightest little women I've met these many moons. -Understands about Public Topics and--But, darn it, why didn't I try? . . . -Tanis!" - - -III - -He was harassed and puzzled by it, but he found that he was turning toward -youth, as youth. The girl who especially disturbed him--though he had never -spoken to her--was the last manicure girl on the right in the Pompeian Barber -Shop. She was small, swift, black-haired, smiling. She was nineteen, -perhaps, or twenty. She wore thin salmon-colored blouses which exhibited her -shoulders and her black-ribboned camisoles. - -He went to the Pompeian for his fortnightly hair-trim. As always, he felt -disloyal at deserting his neighbor, the Reeves Building Barber Shop. Then, -for the first time, he overthrew his sense of guilt. "Doggone it, I don't have -to go here if I don't want to! I don't own the Reeves Building! These barbers -got nothing on me! I'll doggone well get my hair cut where I doggone well want -to! Don't want to hear anything more about it! I'm through standing by -people--unless I want to. It doesn't get you anywhere. I'm through!" - -The Pompeian Barber Shop was in the basement of the Hotel Thornleigh, largest -and most dynamically modern hotel in Zenith. Curving marble steps with a rail -of polished brass led from the hotel-lobby down to the barber shop. The -interior was of black and white and crimson tiles, with a sensational ceiling -of burnished gold, and a fountain in which a massive nymph forever emptied a -scarlet cornucopia. Forty barbers and nine manicure girls worked desperately, -and at the door six colored porters lurked to greet the customers, to care -reverently for their hats and collars, to lead them to a place of waiting -where, on a carpet like a tropic isle in the stretch of white stone floor, -were a dozen leather chairs and a table heaped with magazines. - -Babbitt's porter was an obsequious gray-haired negro who did him an honor -highly esteemed in the land of Zenith--greeted him by name. Yet Babbitt was -unhappy. His bright particular manicure girl was engaged. She was doing the -nails of an overdressed man and giggling with him. Babbitt hated him. He -thought of waiting, but to stop the powerful system of the Pompeian was -inconceivable, and he was instantly wafted into a chair. - -About him was luxury, rich and delicate. One votary was having a violet-ray -facial treatment, the next an oil shampoo. Boys wheeled about miraculous -electrical massage-machines. The barbers snatched steaming towels from a -machine like a howitzer of polished nickel and disdainfully flung them away -after a second's use. On the vast marble shelf facing the chairs were hundreds -of tonics, amber and ruby and emerald. It was flattering to Babbitt to have -two personal slaves at once--the barber and the bootblack. He would have been -completely happy if he could also have had the manicure girl. The barber -snipped at his hair and asked his opinion of the Havre de Grace races, the -baseball season, and Mayor Prout. The young negro bootblack hummed "The Camp -Meeting Blues" and polished in rhythm to his tune, drawing the shiny shoe-rag -so taut at each stroke that it snapped like a banjo string. The barber was an -excellent salesman. He made Babbitt feel rich and important by his manner of -inquiring, "What is your favorite tonic, sir? Have you time to-day, sir, for -a facial massage? Your scalp is a little tight; shall I give you a scalp -massage?" - -Babbitt's best thrill was in the shampoo. The barber made his hair creamy -with thick soap, then (as Babbitt bent over the bowl, muffled in towels) -drenched it with hot water which prickled along his scalp, and at last ran the -water ice-cold. At the shock, the sudden burning cold on his skull, Babbitt's -heart thumped, his chest heaved, and his spine was an electric wire. It was a -sensation which broke the monotony of life. He looked grandly about the shop -as he sat up. The barber obsequiously rubbed his wet hair and bound it in a -towel as in a turban, so that Babbitt resembled a plump pink calif on an -ingenious and adjustable throne. The barber begged (in the manner of one who -was a good fellow yet was overwhelmed by the splendors of the calif), "How -about a little Eldorado Oil Rub, sir? Very beneficial to the scalp, sir. -Didn't I give you one the last time?" - -He hadn't, but Babbitt agreed, "Well, all right." - -With quaking eagerness he saw that his manicure girl was free. - -"I don't know, I guess I'll have a manicure after all," he droned, and -excitedly watched her coming, dark-haired, smiling, tender, little. The -manicuring would have to be finished at her table, and he would be able to -talk to her without the barber listening. He waited contentedly, not trying to -peep at her, while she filed his nails and the barber shaved him and smeared -on his burning cheeks all the interesting mixtures which the pleasant minds of -barbers have devised through the revolving ages. When the barber was done and -he sat opposite the girl at her table, he admired the marble slab of it, -admired the sunken set bowl with its tiny silver taps, and admired himself for -being able to frequent so costly a place. When she withdrew his wet hand from -the bowl, it was so sensitive from the warm soapy water that he was abnormally -aware of the clasp of her firm little paw. He delighted in the pinkness and -glossiness of her nails. Her hands seemed to him more adorable than Mrs. -Judique's thin fingers, and more elegant. He had a certain ecstasy in the -pain when she gnawed at the cuticle of his nails with a sharp knife. He -struggled not to look at the outline of her young bosom and her shoulders, the -more apparent under a film of pink chiffon. He was conscious of her as an -exquisite thing, and when he tried to impress his personality on her he spoke -as awkwardly as a country boy at his first party: - -"Well, kinda hot to be working to-day." - -"Oh, yes, it is hot. You cut your own nails, last time, didn't you!" - -"Ye-es, guess I must 've." - -"You always ought to go to a manicure." - -"Yes, maybe that's so. I--" - -"There's nothing looks so nice as nails that are looked after good. I always -think that's the best way to spot a real gent. There was an auto salesman in -here yesterday that claimed you could always tell a fellow's class by the car -he drove, but I says to him, 'Don't be silly,' I says; 'the wisenheimers grab -a look at a fellow's nails when they want to tell if he's a tin-horn or a real -gent!"' - -"Yes, maybe there's something to that. Course, that is--with a pretty kiddy -like you, a man can't help coming to get his mitts done." - -"Yeh, I may be a kid, but I'm a wise bird, and I know nice folks when I see -um--I can read character at a glance--and I'd never talk so frank with a -fellow if I couldn't see he was a nice fellow." - -She smiled. Her eyes seemed to him as gentle as April pools. With great -seriousness he informed himself that "there were some roughnecks who would -think that just because a girl was a manicure girl and maybe not awful well -educated, she was no good, but as for him, he was a democrat, and understood -people," and he stood by the assertion that this was a fine girl, a good -girl--but not too uncomfortably good. He inquired in a voice quick with -sympathy: - -"I suppose you have a lot of fellows who try to get fresh with you." - -"Say, gee, do I! Say, listen, there's some of these cigar-store sports that -think because a girl's working in a barber shop, they can get away with -anything. The things they saaaaaay! But, believe me, I know how to hop those -birds! I just give um the north and south and ask um, 'Say, who do you think -you're talking to?' and they fade away like love's young nightmare and oh, -don't you want a box of nail-paste? It will keep the nails as shiny as when -first manicured, harmless to apply and lasts for days." - -"Sure, I'll try some. Say--Say, it's funny; I've been coming here ever since -the shop opened and--" With arch surprise. "--I don't believe I know your -name!" - -"Don't you? My, that's funny! I don't know yours!" - -"Now you quit kidding me! What's the nice little name?" - -"Oh, it ain't so darn nice. I guess it's kind of kike. But my folks ain't -kikes. My papa's papa was a nobleman in Poland, and there was a gentleman in -here one day, he was kind of a count or something--" - -"Kind of a no-account, I guess you mean!" - -"Who's telling this, smarty? And he said he knew my papa's papa's folks in -Poland and they had a dandy big house. Right on a lake!" Doubtfully, "Maybe -you don't believe it?" - -"Sure. No. Really. Sure I do. Why not? Don't think I'm kidding you, honey, -but every time I've noticed you I've said to myself, 'That kid has Blue Blood -in her veins!'" - -"Did you, honest?" - -"Honest I did. Well, well, come on--now we're friends--what's the darling -little name?" - -"Ida Putiak. It ain't so much-a-much of a name. I always say to Ma, I say, -'Ma, why didn't you name me Doloress or something with some class to it?'" - -"Well, now, I think it's a scrumptious name. Ida!" - -"I bet I know your name!" - -"Well, now, not necessarily. Of course--Oh, it isn't so specially well -known." - -"Aren't you Mr. Sondheim that travels for the Krackajack Kitchen Kutlery Ko.?" - -"I am not! I'm Mr. Babbitt, the real-estate broker!" - -"Oh, excuse me! Oh, of course. You mean here in Zenith." - -"Yep." With the briskness of one whose feelings have been hurt. - -"Oh, sure. I've read your ads. They're swell." - -"Um, well--You might have read about my speeches." - -"Course I have! I don't get much time to read but--I guess you think I'm an -awfully silly little nit!" - -"I think you're a little darling!" - -"Well--There's one nice thing about this job. It gives a girl a chance to -meet some awfully nice gentlemen and improve her mind with conversation, and -you get so you can read a guy's character at the first glance." - -"Look here, Ida; please don't think I'm getting fresh--" He was hotly -reflecting that it would be humiliating to be rejected by this child, and -dangerous to be accepted. If he took her to dinner, if he were seen by -censorious friends--But he went on ardently: "Don't think I'm getting fresh -if I suggest it would be nice for us to go out and have a little dinner -together some evening." - -"I don't know as I ought to but--My gentleman-friend's always wanting to take -me out. But maybe I could to-night." - - -IV - -There was no reason, he assured himself, why he shouldn't have a quiet dinner -with a poor girl who would benefit by association with an educated and mature -person like himself. But, lest some one see them and not understand, he would -take her to Biddlemeier's Inn, on the outskirts of the city. They would have a -pleasant drive, this hot lonely evening, and he might hold her hand--no, he -wouldn't even do that. Ida was complaisant; her bare shoulders showed it only -too clearly; but he'd be hanged if he'd make love to her merely because she -expected it. - -Then his car broke down; something had happened to the ignition. And he HAD to -have the car this evening! Furiously he tested the spark-plugs, stared at the -commutator. His angriest glower did not seem to stir the sulky car, and in -disgrace it was hauled off to a garage. With a renewed thrill he thought of a -taxicab. There was something at once wealthy and interestingly wicked about a -taxicab. - -But when he met her, on a corner two blocks from the Hotel Thornleigh, she -said, "A taxi? Why, I thought you owned a car!" - -"I do. Of course I do! But it's out of commission to-night." - -"Oh," she remarked, as one who had heard that tale before. - -All the way out to Biddlemeier's Inn he tried to talk as an old friend, but he -could not pierce the wall of her words. With interminable indignation she -narrated her retorts to "that fresh head-barber" and the drastic things she -would do to him if he persisted in saying that she was "better at gassing than -at hoof-paring." - -At Biddlemeier's Inn they were unable to get anything to drink. The -head-waiter refused to understand who George F. Babbitt was. They sat steaming -before a vast mixed grill, and made conversation about baseball. When he -tried to hold Ida's hand she said with bright friendliness, "Careful! That -fresh waiter is rubbering." But they came out into a treacherous summer night, -the air lazy and a little moon above transfigured maples. - -"Let's drive some other place, where we can get a drink and dance!" he -demanded. - -"Sure, some other night. But I promised Ma I'd be home early to-night." - -"Rats! It's too nice to go home." - -"I'd just love to, but Ma would give me fits." - -He was trembling. She was everything that was young and exquisite. He put his -arm about her. She snuggled against his shoulder, unafraid, and he was -triumphant. Then she ran down the steps of the Inn, singing, "Come on, -Georgie, we'll have a nice drive and get cool." - -It was a night of lovers. All along the highway into Zenith, under the low -and gentle moon, motors were parked and dim figures were clasped in revery. He -held out hungry hands to Ida, and when she patted them he was grateful. There -was no sense of struggle and transition; he kissed her and simply she -responded to his kiss, they two behind the stolid back of the chauffeur. - -Her hat fell off, and she broke from his embrace to reach for it. - -"Oh, let it be!" he implored. - -"Huh? My hat? Not a chance!" - -He waited till she had pinned it on, then his arm sank about her. She drew -away from it, and said with maternal soothing, "Now, don't be a silly boy! -Mustn't make Ittle Mama scold! Just sit back, dearie, and see what a swell -night it is. If you're a good boy, maybe I'll kiss you when we say -nighty-night. Now give me a cigarette." - -He was solicitous about lighting her cigarette and inquiring as to her -comfort. Then he sat as far from her as possible. He was cold with failure. -No one could have told Babbitt that he was a fool with more vigor, precision, -and intelligence than he himself displayed. He reflected that from the -standpoint of the Rev. Dr. John Jennison Drew he was a wicked man, and from -the standpoint of Miss Ida Putiak, an old bore who had to be endured as the -penalty attached to eating a large dinner. - -"Dearie, you aren't going to go and get peevish, are you?" - -She spoke pertly. He wanted to spank her. He brooded, "I don't have to take -anything off this gutter-pup! Darn immigrant! Well, let's get it over as quick -as we can, and sneak home and kick ourselves for the rest of the night." - -He snorted, "Huh? Me peevish? Why, you baby, why should I be peevish? Now, -listen, Ida; listen to Uncle George. I want to put you wise about this -scrapping with your head-barber all the time. I've had a lot of experience -with employees, and let me tell you it doesn't pay to antagonize--" - -At the drab wooden house in which she lived he said good-night briefly and -amiably, but as the taxicab drove off he was praying "Oh, my God!" - - - -CHAPTER XXV - -I - -HE awoke to stretch cheerfully as he listened to the sparrows, then to -remember that everything was wrong; that he was determined to go astray, and -not in the least enjoying the process. Why, he wondered, should he be in -rebellion? What was it all about? "Why not be sensible; stop all this idiotic -running around, and enjoy himself with his family, his business, the fellows -at the club?" What was he getting out of rebellion? Misery and shame--the -shame of being treated as an offensive small boy by a ragamuffin like Ida -Putiak! And yet--Always he came back to "And yet." Whatever the misery, he -could not regain contentment with a world which, once doubted, became absurd. - -Only, he assured himself, he was "through with this chasing after girls." - -By noontime he was not so sure even of that. If in Miss McGoun, Louetta -Swanson, and Ida he had failed to find the lady kind and lovely, it did not -prove that she did not exist. He was hunted by the ancient thought that -somewhere must exist the not impossible she who would understand him, value -him, and make him happy. - - -II - -Mrs. Babbitt returned in August. - -On her previous absences he had missed her reassuring buzz and of her arrival -he had made a fete. Now, though he dared not hurt her by letting a hint of it -appear in his letters, he was sorry that she was coming before he had found -himself, and he was embarrassed by the need of meeting her and looking joyful. - -He loitered down to the station; he studied the summer-resort posters, lest he -have to speak to acquaintances and expose his uneasiness. But he was well -trained. When the train clanked in he was out on the cement platform, peering -into the chair-cars, and as he saw her in the line of passengers moving toward -the vestibule he waved his hat. At the door he embraced her, and announced, -"Well, well, well, well, by golly, you look fine, you look fine." Then he was -aware of Tinka. Here was something, this child with her absurd little nose -and lively eyes, that loved him, believed him great, and as he clasped her, -lifted and held her till she squealed, he was for the moment come back to his -old steady self. - -Tinka sat beside him in the car, with one hand on the steering-wheel, -pretending to help him drive, and he shouted back to his wife, "I'll bet the -kid will be the best chuffer in the family! She holds the wheel like an old -professional!" - -All the while he was dreading the moment when he would be alone with his wife -and she would patiently expect him to be ardent. - - -III - -There was about the house an unofficial theory that he was to take his -vacation alone, to spend a week or ten days in Catawba, but he was nagged by -the memory that a year ago he had been with Paul in Maine. He saw himself -returning; finding peace there, and the presence of Paul, in a life primitive -and heroic. Like a shock came the thought that he actually could go. Only, he -couldn't, really; he couldn't leave his business, and "Myra would think it -sort of funny, his going way off there alone. Course he'd decided to do -whatever he darned pleased, from now on, but still--to go way off to Maine!" - -He went, after lengthy meditations. - -With his wife, since it was inconceivable to explain that he was going to seek -Paul's spirit in the wilderness, he frugally employed the lie prepared over a -year ago and scarcely used at all. He said that he had to see a man in New -York on business. He could not have explained even to himself why he drew from -the bank several hundred dollars more than he needed, nor why he kissed Tinka -so tenderly, and cried, "God bless you, baby!" From the train he waved to her -till she was but a scarlet spot beside the brown bulkier presence of Mrs. -Babbitt, at the end of a steel and cement aisle ending in vast barred gates. -With melancholy he looked back at the last suburb of Zenith. - -All the way north he pictured the Maine guides: simple and strong and daring, -jolly as they played stud-poker in their unceiled shack, wise in woodcraft as -they tramped the forest and shot the rapids. He particularly remembered Joe -Paradise, half Yankee, half Indian. If he could but take up a backwoods claim -with a man like Joe, work hard with his hands, be free and noisy in a flannel -shirt, and never come back to this dull decency! - -Or, like a trapper in a Northern Canada movie, plunge through the forest, make -camp in the Rockies, a grim and wordless caveman! Why not? He COULD do it! -There'd be enough money at home for the family to live on till Verona was -married and Ted self-supporting. Old Henry T. would look out for them. -Honestly! Why NOT? Really LIVE-- - -He longed for it, admitted that he longed for it, then almost believed that he -was going lo do it. Whenever common sense snorted, "Nonsense! Folks don't -run away from decent families and partners; just simply don't do it, that's -all!" then Babbitt answered pleadingly, "Well, it wouldn't take any more nerve -than for Paul to go to jail and--Lord, how I'd' like to do it! -Moccasins-six-gun-frontier town-gamblers--sleep under the stars--be a regular -man, with he-men like Joe Paradise--gosh!" - -So he came to Maine, again stood on the wharf before the camp-hotel, again -spat heroically into the delicate and shivering water, while the pines -rustled, the mountains glowed, and a trout leaped and fell in a sliding -circle. He hurried to the guides' shack as to his real home, his real -friends, long missed. They would be glad to see him. They would stand up and -shout? "Why, here's Mr. Babbitt! He ain't one of these ordinary sports! He's -a real guy!" - -In their boarded and rather littered cabin the guides sat about the greasy -table playing stud-poker with greasy cards: half a dozen wrinkled men in old -trousers and easy old felt hats. They glanced up and nodded. Joe Paradise, -the swart aging man with the big mustache, grunted, "How do. Back again?" - -Silence, except for the clatter of chips. - -Babbitt stood beside them, very lonely. He hinted, after a period of highly -concentrated playing, "Guess I might take a hand, Joe." - -"Sure. Sit in. How many chips you want? Let's see; you were here with your -wife, last year, wa'n't you?" said Joe Paradise. - -That was all of Babbitt's welcome to the old home. - -He played for half an hour before he spoke again. His head was reeking with -the smoke of pipes and cheap cigars, and he was weary of pairs and -four-flushes, resentful of the way in which they ignored him. He flung at Joe: - -"Working now?" - -"Nope." - -"Like to guide me for a few days?" - -"Well, jus' soon. I ain't engaged till next week." - -Only thus did Joe recognize the friendship Babbitt was offering him. Babbitt -paid up his losses and left the shack rather childishly. Joe raised his head -from the coils of smoke like a seal rising from surf, grunted, "I'll come -'round t'morrow," and dived down to his three aces. - -Neither in his voiceless cabin, fragrant with planks of new-cut pine, nor -along the lake, nor in the sunset clouds which presently eddied behind the -lavender-misted mountains, could Babbitt find the spirit of Paul as a -reassuring presence. He was so lonely that after supper he stopped to talk -with an ancient old lady, a gasping and steadily discoursing old lady, by the -stove in the hotel-office. He told her of Ted's presumable future triumphs in -the State University and of Tinka's remarkable vocabulary till he was homesick -for the home he had left forever. - -Through the darkness, through that Northern pine-walled silence, he blundered -down to the lake-front and found a canoe. There were no paddles in it but with -a board, sitting awkwardly amidships and poking at the water rather than -paddling, he made his way far out on the lake. The lights of the hotel and -the cottages became yellow dots, a cluster of glow-worms at the base of Sachem -Mountain. Larger and ever more imperturbable was the mountain in the -star-filtered darkness, and the lake a limitless pavement of black marble. He -was dwarfed and dumb and a little awed, but that insignificance freed him from -the pomposities of being Mr. George F. Babbitt of Zenith; saddened and freed -his heart. Now he was conscious of the presence of Paul, fancied him (rescued -from prison, from Zilla and the brisk exactitudes of the tar-roofing business) -playing his violin at the end of the canoe. He vowed, "I will go on! I'll -never go back! Now that Paul's out of it, I don't want to see any of those -damn people again! I was a fool to get sore because Joe Paradise didn't jump -up and hug me. He's one of these woodsmen; too wise to go yelping and talking -your arm off like a cityman. But get him back in the mountains, out on the -trail--! That's real living!" IV - -Joe reported at Babbitt's cabin at nine the next morning. Babbitt greeted him -as a fellow caveman: - -"Well, Joe, how d' you feel about hitting the trail, and getting away from -these darn soft summerites and these women and all?" - -"All right, Mr. Babbitt." - -"What do you say we go over to Box Car Pond--they tell me the shack there -isn't being used--and camp out?" - -"Well, all right, Mr. Babbitt, but it's nearer to Skowtuit Pond, and you can -get just about as good fishing there." - -"No, I want to get into the real wilds." - -"Well, all right." - -"We'll put the old packs on our backs and get into the woods and really hike." - -"I think maybe it would be easier to go by water, through Lake Chogue. We can -go all the way by motor boat--flat-bottom boat with an Evinrude." - -"No, sir! Bust up the quiet with a chugging motor? Not on your life! You -just throw a pair of socks in the old pack, and tell 'em what you want for -eats. I'll be ready soon 's you are." - -"Most of the sports go by boat, Mr. Babbitt. It's a long walk. - -"Look here, Joe: are you objecting to walking?" - -"Oh, no, I guess I can do it. But I haven't tramped that far for sixteen -years. Most of the sports go by boat. But I can do it if you say so--I -guess." Joe walked away in sadness. - -Babbitt had recovered from his touchy wrath before Joe returned. He pictured -him as warming up and telling the most entertaining stories. But Joe had not -yet warmed up when they took the trail. He persistently kept behind Babbitt, -and however much his shoulders ached from the pack, however sorely he panted, -Babbitt could hear his guide panting equally. But the trail was satisfying: a -path brown with pine-needles and rough with roots, among the balsams, the -ferns, the sudden groves of white birch. He became credulous again, and -rejoiced in sweating. When he stopped to rest he chuckled, "Guess we're -hitting it up pretty good for a couple o' old birds, eh?" - -"Uh-huh," admitted Joe. - -"This is a mighty pretty place. Look, you can see the lake down through the -trees. I tell you, Joe, you don't appreciate how lucky you are to live in -woods like this, instead of a city with trolleys grinding and typewriters -clacking and people bothering the life out of you all the time! I wish I knew -the woods like you do. Say, what's the name of that little red flower?" - -Rubbing his back, Joe regarded the flower resentfully "Well, some folks call -it one thing and some calls it another I always just call it Pink Flower." - -Babbitt blessedly ceased thinking as tramping turned into blind plodding. He -was submerged in weariness. His plump legs seemed to go on by themselves, -without guidance, and he mechanically wiped away the sweat which stung his -eyes. He was too tired to be consciously glad as, after a sun-scourged mile of -corduroy tote-road through a swamp where flies hovered over a hot waste of -brush, they reached the cool shore of Box Car Pond. When he lifted the pack -from his back he staggered from the change in balance, and for a moment could -not stand erect. He lay beneath an ample-bosomed maple tree near the -guest-shack, and joyously felt sleep running through his veins. - -He awoke toward dusk, to find Joe efficiently cooking bacon and eggs and -flapjacks for supper, and his admiration of the woodsman returned. He sat on a -stump and felt virile. - -"Joe, what would you do if you had a lot of money? Would you stick to guiding, -or would you take a claim 'way back in the woods and be independent of -people?" - -For the first time Joe brightened. He chewed his cud a second, and bubbled, -"I've often thought of that! If I had the money, I'd go down to Tinker's -Falls and open a swell shoe store." - -After supper Joe proposed a game of stud-poker but Babbitt refused with -brevity, and Joe contentedly went to bed at eight. Babbitt sat on the stump, -facing the dark pond, slapping mosquitos. Save the snoring guide, there was no -other human being within ten miles. He was lonelier than he had ever been in -his life. Then he was in Zenith. - -He was worrying as to whether Miss McGoun wasn't paying too much for carbon -paper. He was at once resenting and missing the persistent teasing at the -Roughnecks' Table. He was wondering what Zilla Riesling was doing now. He was -wondering whether, after the summer's maturity of being a garageman, Ted would -"get busy" in the university. He was thinking of his wife. "If she would -only--if she wouldn't be so darn satisfied with just settling down--No! I -won't! I won't go back! I'll be fifty in three years. Sixty in thirteen -years. I'm going to have some fun before it's too late. I don't care! I -will!" - -He thought of Ida Putiak, of Louetta Swanson, of that nice widow--what was her -name?--Tanis Judique?--the one for whom he'd found the flat. He was enmeshed -in imaginary conversations. Then: - -"Gee, I can't seem to get away from thinking about folks!" - -Thus it came to him merely to run away was folly, because he could never run -away from himself. - -That moment he started for Zenith. In his journey there was no appearance of -flight, but he was fleeing, and four days afterward he was on the Zenith -train. He knew that he was slinking back not because it was what he longed to -do but because it was all he could do. He scanned again his discovery that he -could never run away from Zenith and family and office, because in his own -brain he bore the office and the family and every street and disquiet and -illusion of Zenith. - -"But I'm going to--oh, I'm going to start something!" he vowed, and he tried -to make it valiant. - - - -CHAPTER XXVI - -I - -As he walked through the train, looking for familiar faces, he saw only one -person whom he knew, and that was Seneca Doane, the lawyer who, after the -blessings of being in Babbitt's own class at college and of becoming a -corporation-counsel, had turned crank, had headed farmer-labor tickets and -fraternized with admitted socialists. Though he was in rebellion, naturally -Babbitt did not care to be seen talking with such a fanatic, but in all the -Pullmans he could find no other acquaintance, and reluctantly he halted. -Seneca Doane was a slight, thin-haired man, rather like Chum Frink except that -he hadn't Frink's grin. He was reading a book called "The Way of All Flesh." -It looked religious to Babbitt, and he wondered if Doane could possibly have -been converted and turned decent and patriotic. - -"Why, hello, Doane," he said. - -Doane looked up. His voice was curiously kind. "Oh! How do, Babbitt." - -"Been away, eh?" - -"Yes, I've been in Washington." - -"Washington, eh? How's the old Government making out?" - -"It's--Won't you sit down?" - -"Thanks. Don't care if I do. Well, well! Been quite a while since I've had -a good chance to talk to you, Doane. I was, uh--Sorry you didn't turn up at -the last class-dinner." - -"Oh-thanks." - -"How's the unions coming? Going to run for mayor again?" Doane seemed -restless. He was fingering the pages of his book. He said "I might" as though -it didn't mean anything in particular, and he smiled. - -Babbitt liked that smile, and hunted for conversation: "Saw a bang-up cabaret -in New York: the 'Good-Morning Cutie' bunch at the Hotel Minton." - -"Yes, they're pretty girls. I danced there one evening." - -"Oh. Like dancing?" - -"Naturally. I like dancing and pretty women and good food better than -anything else in the world. Most men do." - -"But gosh, Doane, I thought you fellows wanted to take all the good eats and -everything away from us." - -"No. Not at all. What I'd like to see is the meetings of the Garment Workers -held at the Ritz, with a dance afterward. Isn't that reasonable?" - -"Yuh, might be good idea, all right. Well--Shame I haven't seen more of you, -recent years. Oh, say, hope you haven't held it against me, my bucking you as -mayor, going on the stump for Prout. You see, I'm an organization Republican, -and I kind of felt--" - -"There's no reason why you shouldn't fight me. I have no doubt you're good for -the Organization. I remember--in college you were an unusually liberal, -sensitive chap. I can still recall your saying to me that you were going to be -a lawyer, and take the cases of the poor for nothing, and fight the rich. And -I remember I said I was going to be one of the rich myself, and buy paintings -and live at Newport. I'm sure you inspired us all." - -"Well.... Well.... I've always aimed to be liberal." Babbitt was enormously -shy and proud and self-conscious; he tried to look like the boy he had been a -quarter-century ago, and he shone upon his old friend Seneca Doane as he -rumbled, "Trouble with a lot of these fellows, even the live wires and some of -'em that think they're forward-looking, is they aren't broad-minded and -liberal. Now, I always believe in giving the other fellow a chance, and -listening to his ideas." - -"That's fine." - -"Tell you how I figure it: A little opposition is good for all of us, so a -fellow, especially if he's a business man and engaged in doing the work of the -world, ought to be liberal." - -"Yes--" - -"I always say a fellow ought to have Vision and Ideals. I guess some of the -fellows in my business think I'm pretty visionary, but I just let 'em think -what they want to and go right on--same as you do.... By golly, this is nice -to have a chance to sit and visit and kind of, you might say, brush up on our -ideals." - -"But of course we visionaries do rather get beaten. Doesn't it bother you?" - -"Not a bit! Nobody can dictate to me what I think!" - -"You're the man I want to help me. I want you to talk to some of the business -men and try to make them a little more liberal in their attitude toward poor -Beecher Ingram." - -"Ingram? But, why, he's this nut preacher that got kicked out of the -Congregationalist Church, isn't he, and preaches free love and sedition?" - -This, Doane explained, was indeed the general conception of Beecher Ingram, -but he himself saw Beecher Ingram as a priest of the brotherhood of man, of -which Babbitt was notoriously an upholder. So would Babbitt keep his -acquaintances from hounding Ingram and his forlorn little church? - -"You bet! I'll call down any of the boys I hear getting funny about Ingram," -Babbitt said affectionately to his dear friend Doane. - -Doane warmed up and became reminiscent. He spoke of student days in Germany, -of lobbying for single tax in Washington, of international labor conferences. -He mentioned his friends, Lord Wycombe, Colonel Wedgwood, Professor Piccoli. -Babbitt had always supposed that Doane associated only with the I. W. W., but -now he nodded gravely, as one who knew Lord Wycombes by the score, and he got -in two references to Sir Gerald Doak. He felt daring and idealistic and -cosmopolitan. - -Suddenly, in his new spiritual grandeur, he was sorry for Zilla Riesling, and -understood her as these ordinary fellows at the Boosters' Club never could. - - -II - -Five hours after he had arrived in Zenith and told his wife how hot it was in -New York, he went to call on Zilla. He was buzzing with ideas and -forgiveness. He'd get Paul released; he'd do things, vague but highly -benevolent things, for Zilla; he'd be as generous as his friend Seneca Doane. - -He had not seen Zilla since Paul had shot her, and he still pictured her as -buxom, high-colored, lively, and a little blowsy. As he drove up to her -boarding-house, in a depressing back street below the wholesale district, he -stopped in discomfort. At an upper window, leaning on her elbow, was a woman -with the features of Zilla, but she was bloodless and aged, like a yellowed -wad of old paper crumpled into wrinkles. Where Zilla had bounced and jiggled, -this woman was dreadfully still. - -He waited half an hour before she came into the boarding-house parlor. Fifty -times he opened the book of photographs of the Chicago World's Fair of 1893, -fifty times he looked at the picture of the Court of Honor. - -He was startled to find Zilla in the room. She wore a black streaky gown -which she had tried to brighten with a girdle of crimson ribbon. The ribbon -had been torn and patiently mended. He noted this carefully, because he did -not wish to look at her shoulders. One shoulder was lower than the other; one -arm she carried in contorted fashion, as though it were paralyzed; and behind -a high collar of cheap lace there was a gouge in the anemic neck which had -once been shining and softly plump. - -"Yes?" she said. - -"Well, well, old Zilla! By golly, it's good to see you again!" - -"He can send his messages through a lawyer." - -"Why, rats, Zilla, I didn't come just because of him. Came as an old friend." - -"You waited long enough!" - -"Well, you know how it is. Figured you wouldn't want to see a friend of his -for quite some time and--Sit down, honey! Let's be sensible. We've all of us -done a bunch of things that we hadn't ought to, but maybe we can sort of start -over again. Honest, Zilla, I'd like to do something to make you both happy. -Know what I thought to-day? Mind you, Paul doesn't know a thing about -this--doesn't know I was going to come see you. I got to thinking: Zilla's a -fine? big-hearted woman, and she'll understand that, uh, Paul's had his lesson -now. Why wouldn't it be a fine idea if you asked the governor to pardon him? -Believe he would, if it came from you. No! Wait! Just think how good you'd -feel if you were generous." - -"Yes, I wish to be generous." She was sitting primly, speaking icily. "For -that reason I wish to keep him in prison, as an example to evil-doers. I've -gotten religion, George, since the terrible thing that man did to me. -Sometimes I used to be unkind, and I wished for worldly pleasures, for dancing -and the theater. But when I was in the hospital the pastor of the Pentecostal -Communion Faith used to come to see me, and he showed me, right from the -prophecies written in the Word of God, that the Day of Judgment is coming and -all the members of the older churches are going straight to eternal damnation, -because they only do lip-service and swallow the world, the flesh, and the -devil--" - -For fifteen wild minutes she talked, pouring out admonitions to flee the wrath -to come, and her face flushed, her dead voice recaptured something of the -shrill energy of the old Zilla. She wound up with a furious: - -"It's the blessing of God himself that Paul should be in prison now, and torn -and humbled by punishment, so that he may yet save his soul, and so other -wicked men, these horrible chasers after women and lust, may have an example." - -Babbitt had itched and twisted. As in church he dared not move during the -sermon so now he felt that he must seem attentive, though her screeching -denunciations flew past him like carrion birds. - -He sought to be calm and brotherly: - -"Yes, I know, Zilla. But gosh, it certainly is the essence of religion to be -charitable, isn't it? Let me tell you how I figure it: What we need in the -world is liberalism, liberality, if we're going to get anywhere. I've always -believed in being broad-minded and liberal--" - -"You? Liberal?" It was very much the old Zilla. "Why, George Babbitt, -you're about as broad-minded and liberal as a razor-blade!" - -"Oh, I am, am I! Well, just let me tell you, just--let me--tell--you, I'm as -by golly liberal as you are religious, anyway! YOU RELIGIOUS!" - -"I am so! Our pastor says I sustain him in the faith!" - -"I'll bet you do! With Paul's money! But just to show you how liberal I am, -I'm going to send a check for ten bucks to this Beecher Ingram, because a lot -of fellows are saying the poor cuss preaches sedition and free love, and -they're trying to run him out of town." - -"And they're right! They ought to run him out of town! Why, he preaches--if -you can call it preaching--in a theater, in the House of Satan! You don't -know what it is to find God, to find peace, to behold the snares that the -devil spreads out for our feet. Oh, I'm so glad to see the mysterious -purposes of God in having Paul harm me and stop my wickedness--and Paul's -getting his, good and plenty, for the cruel things he did to me, and I hope he -DIES in prison!" - -Babbitt was up, hat in hand, growling, "Well, if that's what you call being at -peace, for heaven's sake just warn me before you go to war, will you?" - - -III - -Vast is the power of cities to reclaim the wanderer. More than mountains or -the shore-devouring sea, a city retains its character, imperturbable, cynical, -holding behind apparent changes its essential purpose. Though Babbitt had -deserted his family and dwelt with Joe Paradise in the wilderness, though he -had become a liberal, though he had been quite sure, on the night before he -reached Zenith, that neither he nor the city would be the same again, ten days -after his return he could not believe that he had ever been away. Nor was it -at all evident to his acquaintances that there was a new George F. Babbitt, -save that he was more irritable under the incessant chaffing at the Athletic -Club, and once, when Vergil Gunch observed that Seneca Doane ought to be -hanged, Babbitt snorted, "Oh, rats, he's not so bad." - -At home he grunted "Eh?" across the newspaper to his commentatory wife, and -was delighted by Tinka's new red tam o'shanter, and announced, "No class to -that corrugated iron garage. Have to build me a nice frame one." - -Verona and Kenneth Escott appeared really to be engaged. In his newspaper -Escott had conducted a pure-food crusade against commission-houses. As a -result he had been given an excellent job in a commission-house, and he was -making a salary on which he could marry, and denouncing irresponsible -reporters who wrote stories criticizing commission-houses without knowing what -they were talking about. - -This September Ted had entered the State University as a freshman in the -College of Arts and Sciences. The university was at Mohalis only fifteen -miles from Zenith, and Ted often came down for the week-end. Babbitt was -worried. Ted was "going in for" everything but books. He had tried to "make" -the football team as a light half-back, he was looking forward to the -basket-ball season, he was on the committee for the Freshman Hop, and (as a -Zenithite, an aristocrat among the yokels) he was being "rushed" by two -fraternities. But of his studies Babbitt could learn nothing save a mumbled, -"Oh, gosh, these old stiffs of teachers just give you a lot of junk about -literature and economics." - -One week-end Ted proposed, "Say, Dad, why can't I transfer over from the -College to the School of Engineering and take mechanical engineering? You -always holler that I never study, but honest, I would study there." - -"No, the Engineering School hasn't got the standing the College has," fretted -Babbitt. - -"I'd like to know how it hasn't! The Engineers can play on any of the teams!" - -There was much explanation of the "dollars-and-cents value of being known as a -college man when you go into the law," and a truly oratorical account of the -lawyer's life. Before he was through with it, Babbitt had Ted a United States -Senator. - -Among the great lawyers whom he mentioned was Secena Doane. - -"But, gee whiz," Ted marveled, "I thought you always said this Doane was a -reg'lar nut!" - -"That's no way to speak of a great man! Doane's always been a good friend of -mine--fact I helped him in college--I started him out and you might say -inspired him. Just because he's sympathetic with the aims of Labor, a lot of -chumps that lack liberality and broad-mindedness think he's a crank, but let -me tell you there's mighty few of 'em that rake in the fees he does, and he's -a friend of some of the strongest; most conservative men in the world--like -Lord Wycombe, this, uh, this big English nobleman that's so well known. And -you now, which would you rather do: be in with a lot of greasy mechanics and -laboring-men, or chum up to a real fellow like Lord Wycombe, and get invited -to his house for parties?" - -"Well--gosh," sighed Ted. - -The next week-end he came in joyously with, "Say, Dad, why couldn't I take -mining engineering instead of the academic course? You talk about -standing--maybe there isn't much in mechanical engineering, but the Miners, -gee, they got seven out of eleven in the new elections to Nu Tau Tau!" - - - -CHAPTER XXVII - -I - -THE strike which turned Zenith into two belligerent camps; white and red, -began late in September with a walk-out of telephone girls and linemen, in -protest against a reduction of wages. The newly formed union of dairy-products -workers went out, partly in sympathy and partly in demand for a forty-four -hour week. They were followed by the truck-drivers' union. Industry was tied -up, and the whole city was nervous with talk of a trolley strike, a printers' -strike, a general strike. Furious citizens, trying to get telephone calls -through strike-breaking girls, danced helplessly. Every truck that made its -way from the factories to the freight-stations was guarded by a policeman, -trying to look stoical beside the scab driver. A line of fifty trucks from the -Zenith Steel and Machinery Company was attacked by strikers-rushing out from -the sidewalk, pulling drivers from the seats, smashing carburetors and -commutators, while telephone girls cheered from the walk, and small boys -heaved bricks. - -The National Guard was ordered out. Colonel Nixon, who in private life was -Mr. Caleb Nixon, secretary of the Pullmore Tractor Company, put on a long -khaki coat and stalked through crowds, a .44 automatic in hand. Even Babbitt's -friend, Clarence Drum the shoe merchant--a round and merry man who told -stories at the Athletic Club, and who strangely resembled a Victorian -pug-dog--was to be seen as a waddling but ferocious captain, with his belt -tight about his comfortable little belly, and his round little mouth petulant -as he piped to chattering groups on corners. "Move on there now! I can't have -any of this loitering!" - -Every newspaper in the city, save one, was against the strikers. When mobs -raided the news-stands, at each was stationed a militiaman, a young, -embarrassed citizen-soldier with eye-glasses, bookkeeper or grocery-clerk in -private life, trying to look dangerous while small boys yelped, "Get onto de -tin soldier!" and striking truck-drivers inquired tenderly, "Say, Joe, when I -was fighting in France, was you in camp in the States or was you doing Swede -exercises in the Y. M. C. A.? Be careful of that bayonet, now, or you'll cut -yourself!" - -There was no one in Zenith who talked of anything but the strike, and no one -who did not take sides. You were either a courageous friend of Labor, or you -were a fearless supporter of the Rights of Property; and in either case you -were belligerent, and ready to disown any friend who did not hate the enemy. - -A condensed-milk plant was set afire--each side charged it to the other--and -the city was hysterical. - -And Babbitt chose this time to be publicly liberal. - -He belonged to the sound, sane, right-thinking wing, and at first he agreed -that the Crooked Agitators ought to be shot. He was sorry when his friend, -Seneca Doane, defended arrested strikers, and he thought of going to Doane and -explaining about these agitators, but when he read a broadside alleging that -even on their former wages the telephone girls had been hungry, he was -troubled. "All lies and fake figures," he said, but in a doubtful croak. - -For the Sunday after, the Chatham Road Presbyterian Church announced a sermon -by Dr. John Jennison Drew on "How the Saviour Would End Strikes." Babbitt had -been negligent about church-going lately, but he went to the service, hopeful -that Dr. Drew really did have the information as to what the divine powers -thought about strikes. Beside Babbitt in the large, curving, glossy, -velvet-upholstered pew was Chum Frink. - -Frink whispered, "Hope the doc gives the strikers hell! Ordinarily, I don't -believe in a preacher butting into political matters--let him stick to -straight religion and save souls, and not stir up a lot of discussion--but at -a time like this, I do think he ought to stand right up and bawl out those -plug-uglies to a fare-you-well!" - -"Yes--well--" said Babbitt. - -The Rev. Dr. Drew, his rustic bang flopping with the intensity of his poetic -and sociologic ardor, trumpeted: - -"During the untoward series of industrial dislocations which have--let us be -courageous and admit it boldly--throttled the business life of our fair city -these past days, there has been a great deal of loose talk about scientific -prevention of scientific--SCIENTIFIC! Now, let me tell you that the most -unscientific thing in the world is science! Take the attacks on the -established fundamentals of the Christian creed which were so popular with the -'scientists' a generation ago. Oh, yes, they were mighty fellows, and great -poo-bahs of criticism! They were going to destroy the church; they were going -to prove the world was created and has been brought to its extraordinary level -of morality and civilization by blind chance. Yet the church stands just as -firmly to-day as ever, and the only answer a Christian pastor needs make to -the long-haired opponents of his simple faith is just a pitying smile! - -"And now these same 'scientists' want to replace the natural condition of free -competition by crazy systems which, no matter by what high-sounding names they -are called, are nothing but a despotic paternalism. Naturally, I'm not -criticizing labor courts, injunctions against men proven to be striking -unjustly, or those excellent unions in which the men and the boss get -together. But I certainly am criticizing the systems in which the free and -fluid motivation of independent labor is to be replaced by cooked-up -wage-scales and minimum salaries and government commissions and labor -federations and all that poppycock. - -"What is not generally understood is that this whole industrial matter isn't a -question of economics. It's essentially and only a matter of Love, and of the -practical application of the Christian religion! Imagine a factory--instead of -committees of workmen alienating the boss, the boss goes among them smiling, -and they smile back, the elder brother and the younger. Brothers, that's what -they must be, loving brothers, and then strikes would be as inconceivable as -hatred in the home!" - -It was at this point that Babbitt muttered, "Oh, rot!" - -"Huh?" said Chum Frink. - -"He doesn't know what he's talking about. It's just as clear as mud. It -doesn't mean a darn thing." - -"Maybe, but--" - -Frink looked at him doubtfully, through all the service kept glancing at him -doubtfully, till Babbitt was nervous. - - -II - -The strikers had announced a parade for Tuesday morning, but Colonel Nixon had -forbidden it, the newspapers said. When Babbitt drove west from his office at -ten that morning he saw a drove of shabby men heading toward the tangled, -dirty district beyond Court House Square. He hated them, because they were -poor, because they made him feel insecure "Damn loafers! Wouldn't be common -workmen if they had any pep," he complained. He wondered if there was going to -be a riot. He drove toward the starting-point of the parade, a triangle of -limp and faded grass known as Moore Street Park, and halted his car. - -The park and streets were buzzing with strikers, young men in blue denim -shirts, old men with caps. Through them, keeping them stirred like a boiling -pot, moved the militiamen. Babbitt could hear the soldiers' monotonous orders: -"Keep moving--move on, 'bo--keep your feet warm!" Babbitt admired their stolid -good temper. The crowd shouted, "Tin soldiers," and "Dirty dogs--servants of -the capitalists!" but the militiamen grinned and answered only, "Sure, that's -right. Keep moving, Billy!" - -Babbitt thrilled over the citizen-soldiers, hated the scoundrels who were -obstructing the pleasant ways of prosperity, admired Colonel Nixon's striding -contempt for the crowd; and as Captain Clarence Drum, that rather puffing -shoe-dealer, came raging by, Babbitt respectfully clamored, "Great work, -Captain! Don't let 'em march!" He watched the strikers filing from the park. -Many of them bore posters with "They can't stop our peacefully walking." The -militiamen tore away the posters, but the strikers fell in behind their -leaders and straggled off, a thin unimpressive trickle between steel-glinting -lines of soldiers. Babbitt saw with disappointment that there wasn't going to -be any violence, nothing interesting at all. Then he gasped. - -Among the marchers, beside a bulky young workman, was Seneca Doane, smiling, -content. In front of him was Professor Brockbank, head of the history -department in the State University, an old man and white-bearded, known to -come from a distinguished Massachusetts family. - -"Why, gosh," Babbitt marveled, "a swell like him in with the strikers? And -good ole Senny Doane! They're fools to get mixed up with this bunch. They're -parlor socialists! But they have got nerve. And nothing in it for them, not -a cent! And--I don't know 's ALL the strikers look like such tough nuts. -Look just about like anybody else to me!" - -The militiamen were turning the parade down a side street. - -"They got just as much right to march as anybody else! They own the streets -as much as Clarence Drum or the American Legion does!" Babbitt grumbled. "Of -course, they're--they're a bad element, but--Oh, rats!" - -At the Athletic Club, Babbitt was silent during lunch, while the others -fretted, "I don't know what the world's coming to," or solaced their spirits -with "kidding." - -Captain Clarence Drum came swinging by, splendid in khaki. - -"How's it going, Captain?" inquired Vergil Gunch. - -"Oh, we got 'em stopped. We worked 'em off on side streets and separated 'em -and they got discouraged and went home." - -"Fine work. No violence." - -"Fine work nothing!" groaned Mr. Drum. "If I had my way, there'd be a whole -lot of violence, and I'd start it, and then the whole thing would be over. I -don't believe in standing back and wet-nursing these fellows and letting the -disturbances drag on. I tell you these strikers are nothing in God's world -but a lot of bomb-throwing socialists and thugs, and the only way to handle -'em is with a club! That's what I'd do; beat up the whole lot of 'em!" - -Babbitt heard himself saying, "Oh, rats, Clarence, they look just about like -you and me, and I certainly didn't notice any bombs." - -Drum complained, "Oh, you didn't, eh? Well, maybe you'd like to take charge -of the strike! Just tell Colonel Nixon what innocents the strikers are! He'd -be glad to hear about it!" Drum strode on, while all the table stared at -Babbitt. - -"What's the idea? Do you want us to give those hell-hounds love and kisses, -or what?" said Orville Jones. - -"Do you defend a lot of hoodlums that are trying to take the bread and butter -away from our families?" raged Professor Pumphrey. - -Vergil Gunch intimidatingly said nothing. He put on sternness like a mask; -his jaw was hard, his bristly short hair seemed cruel, his silence was a -ferocious thunder. While the others assured Babbitt that they must have -misunderstood him, Gunch looked as though he had understood only too well. -Like a robed judge he listened to Babbitt's stammering: - -"No, sure; course they're a bunch of toughs. But I just mean--Strikes me it's -bad policy to talk about clubbing 'em. Cabe Nixon doesn't. He's got the fine -Italian hand. And that's why he's colonel. Clarence Drum is jealous of him." - -"Well," said Professor Pumphrey, "you hurt Clarence's feelings, George. He's -been out there all morning getting hot and dusty, and no wonder he wants to -beat the tar out of those sons of guns!" - -Gunch said nothing, and watched; and Babbitt knew that he was being watched. - - -III - -As he was leaving the club Babbitt heard Chum Frink protesting to Gunch, -"--don't know what's got into him. Last Sunday Doc Drew preached a corking -sermon about decency in business and Babbitt kicked about that, too. Near 's I -can figure out--" - -Babbitt was vaguely frightened. - - -IV - -He saw a crowd listening to a man who was talking from the rostrum of a -kitchen-chair. He stopped his car. From newspaper pictures he knew that the -speaker must be the notorious freelance preacher, Beecher Ingram, of whom -Seneca Doane had spoken. Ingram was a gaunt man with flamboyant hair, -weather-beaten cheeks, and worried eyes. He was pleading: - -"--if those telephone girls can hold out, living on one meal a day, doing -their own washing, starving and smiling, you big hulking men ought to be -able--" - -Babbitt saw that from the sidewalk Vergil Gunch was watching him. In vague -disquiet he started the car and mechanically drove on, while Gunch's hostile -eyes seemed to follow him all the way. - - -V - -"There's a lot of these fellows," Babbitt was complaining to his wife, "that -think if workmen go on strike they're a regular bunch of fiends. Now, of -course, it's a fight between sound business and the destructive element, and -we got to lick the stuffin's out of 'em when they challenge us, but doggoned -if I see why we can't fight like gentlemen and not go calling 'em dirty dogs -and saying they ought to be shot down." - -"Why, George," she said placidly, "I thought you always insisted that all -strikers ought to be put in jail." - -"I never did! Well, I mean--Some of 'em, of course. Irresponsible leaders. -But I mean a fellow ought to be broad-minded and liberal about things like--" - -"But dearie, I thought you always said these so-called 'liberal' people were -the worst of--" - -"Rats! Woman never can understand the different definitions of a word. -Depends on how you mean it. And it don't pay to be too cocksure about -anything. Now, these strikers: Honest, they're not such bad people. Just -foolish. They don't understand the complications of merchandizing and profit, -the way we business men do, but sometimes I think they're about like the rest -of us, and no more hogs for wages than we are for profits." - -"George! If people were to hear you talk like that--of course I KNOW you; I -remember what a wild crazy boy you were; I know you don't mean a word you -say--but if people that didn't understand you were to hear you talking, they'd -think you were a regular socialist!" - -"What do I care what anybody thinks? And let me tell you right now--I want -you to distinctly understand I never was a wild crazy kid, and when I say a -thing, I mean it, and I stand by it and--Honest, do you think people would -think I was too liberal if I just said the strikers were decent?" - -"Of course they would. But don't worry, dear; I know you don't mean a word of -it. Time to trot up to bed now. Have you enough covers for to-night?" - -On the sleeping-porch he puzzled, "She doesn't understand me. Hardly -understand myself. Why can't I take things easy, way I used to? - -"Wish I could go out to Senny Doane's house and talk things over with him. -No! Suppose Verg Gunch saw me going in there! - -"Wish I knew some really smart woman, and nice, that would see what I'm trying -to get at, and let me talk to her and--I wonder if Myra's right? Could the -fellows think I've gone nutty just because I'm broad-minded and liberal? Way -Verg looked at me--" - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII - -I - -MISS McGOUN came into his private office at three in the afternoon with -"Lissen, Mr. Babbitt; there's a Mrs. Judique on the 'phone--wants to see about -some repairs, and the salesmen are all out. Want to talk to her?" - -"All right." - -The voice of Tanis Judique was clear and pleasant. The black cylinder of the -telephone-receiver seemed to hold a tiny animated image of her: lustrous eyes, -delicate nose, gentle chin. - -"This is Mrs. Judique. Do you remember me? You drove me up here to the -Cavendish Apartments and helped me find such a nice flat." - -"Sure! Bet I remember! What can I do for you?" - -"Why, it's just a little--I don't know that I ought to bother you, but the -janitor doesn't seem to be able to fix it. You know my flat is on the top -floor, and with these autumn rains the roof is beginning to leak, and I'd be -awfully glad if--" - -"Sure! I'll come up and take a look at it." Nervously, "When do you expect -to be in?" - -"Why, I'm in every morning." - -"Be in this afternoon, in an hour or so?" - -"Ye-es. Perhaps I could give you a cup of tea. I think I ought to, after all -your trouble." - -"Fine! I'll run up there soon as I can get away." - -He meditated, "Now there's a woman that's got refinement, savvy, CLASS! -'After all your trouble--give you a cup of tea.' She'd appreciate a fellow. -I'm a fool, but I'm not such a bad cuss, get to know me. And not so much a -fool as they think!" - -The great strike was over, the strikers beaten. Except that Vergil Gunch -seemed less cordial, there were no visible effects of Babbitt's treachery to -the clan. The oppressive fear of criticism was gone, but a diffident -loneliness remained. Now he was so exhilarated that, to prove he wasn't, he -droned about the office for fifteen minutes, looking at blue-prints, -explaining to Miss McGoun that this Mrs. Scott wanted more money for her -house--had raised the asking-price--raised it from seven thousand to -eighty-five hundred--would Miss McGoun be sure and put it down on the -card--Mrs. Scott's house--raise. When he had thus established himself as a -person unemotional and interested only in business, he sauntered out. He took -a particularly long time to start his car; he kicked the tires, dusted the -glass of the speedometer, and tightened the screws holding the wind-shield -spot-light. - -He drove happily off toward the Bellevue district, conscious of the presence -of Mrs. Judique as of a brilliant light on the horizon. The maple leaves had -fallen and they lined the gutters of the asphalted streets. It was a day of -pale gold and faded green, tranquil and lingering. Babbitt was aware of the -meditative day, and of the barrenness of Bellevue--blocks of wooden houses, -garages, little shops, weedy lots. "Needs pepping up; needs the touch that -people like Mrs. Judique could give a place," he ruminated, as he rattled -through the long, crude, airy streets. The wind rose, enlivening, keen, and in -a blaze of well-being he came to the flat of Tanis Judique. - -She was wearing, when she flutteringly admitted him, a frock of black chiffon -cut modestly round at the base of her pretty throat. She seemed to him -immensely sophisticated. He glanced at the cretonnes and colored prints in her -living-room, and gurgled, "Gosh, you've fixed the place nice! Takes a clever -woman to know how to make a home, all right!" - -"You really like it? I'm so glad! But you've neglected me, scandalously. You -promised to come some time and learn to dance." - -Rather unsteadily, "Oh, but you didn't mean it seriously!" - -"Perhaps not. But you might have tried!" - -"Well, here I've come for my lesson, and you might just as well prepare to -have me stay for supper!" - -They both laughed in a manner which indicated that of course he didn't mean -it. - -"But first I guess I better look at that leak." - -She climbed with him to the flat roof of the apartment-house a detached world -of slatted wooden walks, clotheslines, water-tank in a penthouse. He poked at -things with his toe, and sought to impress her by being learned about copper -gutters, the desirability of passing plumbing pipes through a lead collar and -sleeve and flashing them with copper, and the advantages of cedar over -boiler-iron for roof-tanks. - - -"You have to know so much, in real estate!" she admired. - -He promised that the roof should be repaired within two days. "Do you mind my -'phoning from your apartment?" he asked. - -"Heavens, no!" - -He stood a moment at the coping, looking over a land of hard little bungalows -with abnormally large porches, and new apartment-houses, small, but brave with -variegated brick walls and terra-cotta trimmings. Beyond them was a hill with -a gouge of yellow clay like a vast wound. Behind every apartment-house, beside -each dwelling, were small garages. It was a world of good little people, -comfortable, industrious, credulous. - -In the autumnal light the flat newness was mellowed, and the air was a -sun-tinted pool. - -"Golly, it's one fine afternoon. You get a great view here, right up Tanner's -Hill," said Babbitt. - -"Yes, isn't it nice and open." - -"So darn few people appreciate a View." - -"Don't you go raising my rent on that account! Oh, that was naughty of me! I -was just teasing. Seriously though, there are so few who respond--who react -to Views. I mean--they haven't any feeling of poetry and beauty." - -"That's a fact, they haven't," he breathed, admiring her slenderness and the -absorbed, airy way in which she looked toward the hill, chin lifted, lips -smiling. "Well, guess I'd better telephone the plumbers, so they'll get on -the job first thing in the morning." - -When he had telephoned, making it conspicuously authoritative and gruff and -masculine, he looked doubtful, and sighed, "S'pose I'd better be--" - -"Oh, you must have that cup of tea first!" - -"Well, it would go pretty good, at that." - -It was luxurious to loll in a deep green rep chair, his legs thrust out before -him, to glance at the black Chinese telephone stand and the colored photograph -of Mount Vernon which he had always liked so much, while in the tiny -kitchen--so near--Mrs. Judique sang "My Creole Queen." In an intolerable -sweetness, a contentment so deep that he was wistfully discontented, he saw -magnolias by moonlight and heard plantation darkies crooning to the banjo. He -wanted to be near her, on pretense of helping her, yet he wanted to remain in -this still ecstasy. Languidly he remained. - -When she bustled in with the tea he smiled up at her. "This is awfully nice!" -For the first time, he was not fencing; he was quietly and securely friendly; -and friendly and quiet was her answer: "It's nice to have you here. You were -so kind, helping me to find this little home." - -They agreed that the weather would soon turn cold. They agreed that -prohibition was prohibitive. They agreed that art in the home was cultural. -They agreed about everything. They even became bold. They hinted that these -modern young girls, well, honestly, their short skirts were short. They were -proud to find that they were not shocked by such frank speaking. Tanis -ventured, "I know you'll understand--I mean--I don't quite know how to say it, -but I do think that girls who pretend they're bad by the way they dress really -never go any farther. They give away the fact that they haven't the instincts -of a womanly woman." - -Remembering Ida Putiak, the manicure girl, and how ill she had used him, -Babbitt agreed with enthusiasm; remembering how ill all the world had used -him, he told of Paul Riesling, of Zilla, of Seneca Doane, of the strike: - -"See how it was? Course I was as anxious to have those beggars licked to a -standstill as anybody else, but gosh, no reason for not seeing their side. For -a fellow's own sake, he's got to be broad-minded and liberal, don't you think -so?" - -"Oh, I do!" Sitting on the hard little couch, she clasped her hands beside -her, leaned toward him, absorbed him; and in a glorious state of being -appreciated he proclaimed: - -"So I up and said to the fellows at the club, 'Look here,' I--" - -"Do you belong to the Union Club? I think it's--" - -"No; the Athletic. Tell you: Course they're always asking me to join the -Union, but I always say, 'No, sir! Nothing doing!' I don't mind the expense -but I can't stand all the old fogies." - -"Oh, yes, that's so. But tell me: what did you say to them?" - -"Oh, you don't want to hear it. I'm probably boring you to death with my -troubles! You wouldn't hardly think I was an old duffer; I sound like a kid!" - -"Oh, you're a boy yet. I mean--you can't be a day over forty-five." - -"Well, I'm not--much. But by golly I begin to feel middle-aged sometimes; all -these responsibilities and all." - -"Oh, I know!" Her voice caressed him; it cloaked him like warm silk. "And I -feel lonely, so lonely, some days, Mr. Babbitt." - -"We're a sad pair of birds! But I think we're pretty darn nice!" - -"Yes, I think we're lots nicer than most people I know!" They smiled. "But -please tell me what you said at the Club." - -"Well, it was like this: Course Seneca Doane is a friend of mine--they can -say what they want to, they can call him anything they please, but what most -folks here don't know is that Senny is the bosom pal of some of the biggest -statesmen in the world--Lord Wycombe, frinstance--you know, this big British -nobleman. My friend Sir Gerald Doak told me that Lord Wycombe is one of the -biggest guns in England--well, Doak or somebody told me." - -"Oh! Do you know Sir Gerald? The one that was here, at the McKelveys'?" - -"Know him? Well, say, I know him just well enough so we call each other -George and Jerry, and we got so pickled together in Chicago--" - -"That must have been fun. But--" She shook a finger at him. "--I can't have -you getting pickled! I'll have to take you in hand!" - -"Wish you would! . . . Well, zize saying: You see I happen to know what a big -noise Senny Doane is outside of Zenith, but of course a prophet hasn't got any -honor in his own country, and Senny, darn his old hide, he's so blame modest -that he never lets folks know the kind of an outfit he travels with when he -goes abroad. Well, during the strike Clarence Drum comes pee-rading up to our -table, all dolled up fit to kill in his nice lil cap'n's uniform, and somebody -says to him, 'Busting the strike, Clarence?' - -"Well, he swells up like a pouter-pigeon and he hollers, so 's you could hear -him way up in the reading-room, 'Yes, sure; I told the strike-leaders where -they got off, and so they went home.' - -"'Well,' I says to him, 'glad there wasn't any violence.' - -"'Yes,' he says, 'but if I hadn't kept my eye skinned there would 've been. -All those fellows had bombs in their pockets. They're reg'lar anarchists.' - -"'Oh, rats, Clarence,' I says, 'I looked 'em all over carefully, and they -didn't have any more bombs 'n a rabbit,' I says. 'Course,' I says, 'they're -foolish, but they're a good deal like you and me, after all.' - -"And then Vergil Gunch or somebody--no, it was Chum Frink--you know, this -famous poet--great pal of mine--he says to me, 'Look here,' he says, 'do you -mean to say you advocate these strikes?' Well, I was so disgusted with a -fellow whose mind worked that way that I swear, I had a good mind to not -explain at all--just ignore him--" - -"Oh, that's so wise!" said Mrs. Judique. - -"--but finally I explains to him: 'If you'd done as much as I have on Chamber -of Commerce committees and all,' I says, 'then you'd have the right to talk! -But same time,' I says, 'I believe in treating your opponent like a -gentleman!' Well, sir, that held 'em! Frink--Chum I always call him--he -didn't have another word to say. But at that, I guess some of 'em kind o' -thought I was too liberal. What do you think?" - -"Oh, you were so wise. And courageous! I love a man to have the courage of -his convictions!" - -"But do you think it was a good stunt? After all, some of these fellows are -so darn cautious and narrow-minded that they're prejudiced against a fellow -that talks right out in meeting." - -"What do you care? In the long run they're bound to respect a man who makes -them think, and with your reputation for oratory you--" - -"What do you know about my reputation for oratory?" - -"Oh, I'm not going to tell you everything I know! But seriously, you don't -realize what a famous man you are." - -"Well--Though I haven't done much orating this fall. Too kind of bothered by -this Paul Riesling business, I guess. But--Do you know, you're the first -person that's really understood what I was getting at, Tanis--Listen to me, -will you! Fat nerve I've got, calling you Tanis!" - -"Oh, do! And shall I call you George? Don't you think it's awfully nice when -two people have so much--what shall I call it?--so much analysis that they can -discard all these stupid conventions and understand each other and become -acquainted right away, like ships that pass in the night?" - -"I certainly do! I certainly do!" - -He was no longer quiescent in his chair; he wandered about the room, he -dropped on the couch beside her. But as he awkwardly stretched his hand toward -her fragile, immaculate fingers, she said brightly, "Do give me a cigarette. -Would you think poor Tanis was dreadfully naughty if she smoked?" - -"Lord, no! I like it!" - -He had often and weightily pondered flappers smoking in Zenith restaurants, -but he knew only one woman who smoked--Mrs. Sam Doppelbrau, his flighty -neighbor. He ceremoniously lighted Tanis's cigarette, looked for a place to -deposit the burnt match, and dropped it into his pocket. - -"I'm sure you want a cigar, you poor man!" she crooned. - -"Do you mind one?" - -"Oh, no! I love the smell of a good cigar; so nice and--so nice and like a -man. You'll find an ash-tray in my bedroom, on the table beside the bed, if -you don't mind getting it." - -He was embarrassed by her bedroom: the broad couch with a cover of violet -silk, mauve curtains striped with gold. Chinese Chippendale bureau, and an -amazing row of slippers, with ribbon-wound shoe-trees, and primrose stockings -lying across them. His manner of bringing the ash-tray had just the right note -of easy friendliness, he felt. "A boob like Verg Gunch would try to get funny -about seeing her bedroom, but I take it casually." He was not casual -afterward. The contentment of companionship was gone, and he was restless -with desire to touch her hand. But whenever he turned toward her, the -cigarette was in his way. It was a shield between them. He waited till she -should have finished, but as he rejoiced at her quick crushing of its light on -the ashtray she said, "Don't you want to give me another cigarette?" and -hopelessly he saw the screen of pale smoke and her graceful tilted hand again -between them. He was not merely curious now to find out whether she would let -him hold her hand (all in the purest friendship, naturally), but agonized with -need of it. - -On the surface appeared none of all this fretful drama. They were talking -cheerfully of motors, of trips to California, of Chum Frink. Once he said -delicately, "I do hate these guys--I hate these people that invite themselves -to meals, but I seem to have a feeling I'm going to have supper with the -lovely Mrs. Tanis Judique to-night. But I suppose you probably have seven -dates already." - -"Well, I was thinking some of going to the movies. Yes, I really think I -ought to get out and get some fresh air." - -She did not encourage him to stay, but never did she discourage him. He -considered, "I better take a sneak! She WILL let me stay--there IS something -doing--and I mustn't get mixed up with--I mustn't--I've got to beat it." -Then, "No. it's too late now." - -Suddenly, at seven, brushing her cigarette away, brusquely taking her hand: - -"Tanis! Stop teasing me! You know we--Here we are, a couple of lonely birds, -and we're awful happy together. Anyway I am! Never been so happy! Do let me -stay! Ill gallop down to the delicatessen and buy some stuff--cold chicken -maybe--or cold turkey--and we can have a nice little supper, and afterwards, -if you want to chase me out, I'll be good and go like a lamb." - -"Well--yes--it would be nice," she said. - -Nor did she withdraw her hand. He squeezed it, trembling, and blundered -toward his coat. At the delicatessen he bought preposterous stores of food, -chosen on the principle of expensiveness. From the drug store across the -street he telephoned to his wife, "Got to get a fellow to sign a lease before -he leaves town on the midnight. Won't be home till late. Don't wait up for -me. Kiss Tinka good-night." He expectantly lumbered back to the flat. - -"Oh, you bad thing, to buy so much food!" was her greeting, and her voice was -gay, her smile acceptant. - -He helped her in the tiny white kitchen; he washed the lettuce, he opened the -olive bottle. She ordered him to set the table, and as he trotted into the -living-room, as he hunted through the buffet for knives and forks, he felt -utterly at home. - -"Now the only other thing," he announced, "is what you're going to wear. I -can't decide whether you're to put on your swellest evening gown, or let your -hair down and put on short skirts and make-believe you're a little girl." - -"I'm going to dine just as I am, in this old chiffon rag, and if you can't -stand poor Tanis that way, you can go to the club for dinner!" - -"Stand you!" He patted her shoulder. "Child, you're the brainiest and the -loveliest and finest woman I've ever met! Come now, Lady Wycombe, if you'll -take the Duke of Zenith's arm, we will proambulate in to the magnolious feed!" - -"Oh, you do say the funniest, nicest things!" - -When they had finished the picnic supper he thrust his head out of the window -and reported, "It's turned awful chilly, and I think it's going to rain. You -don't want to go to the movies." - -"Well--" - -"I wish we had a fireplace! I wish it was raining like all get-out to-night, -and we were in a funny little old-fashioned cottage, and the trees thrashing -like everything outside, and a great big log fire and--I'll tell you! Let's -draw this couch up to the radiator, and stretch our feet out, and pretend it's -a wood-fire." - -"Oh, I think that's pathetic! You big child!" - -But they did draw up to the radiator, and propped their feet against it--his -clumsy black shoes, her patent-leather slippers. In the dimness they talked of -themselves; of how lonely she was, how bewildered he, and how wonderful that -they had found each other. As they fell silent the room was stiller than a -country lane. There was no sound from the street save the whir of motor-tires, -the rumble of a distant freight-train. Self-contained was the room, warm, -secure, insulated from the harassing world. - -He was absorbed by a rapture in which all fear and doubting were smoothed -away; and when he reached home, at dawn, the rapture had mellowed to -contentment serene and full of memories. - - - -CHAPTER XXIX - -I - -THE assurance of Tanis Judique's friendship fortified Babbitt's self-approval. -At the Athletic Club he became experimental. Though Vergil Gunch was silent, -the others at the Roughnecks' Table came to accept Babbitt as having, for no -visible reason, "turned crank." They argued windily with him, and he was -cocky, and enjoyed the spectacle of his interesting martyrdom. He even praised -Seneca Doane. Professor Pumphrey said that was carrying a joke too far; but -Babbitt argued, "No! Fact! I tell you he's got one of the keenest intellects -in the country. Why, Lord Wycombe said that--" - -"Oh, who the hell is Lord Wycombe? What you always lugging him in for? You -been touting him for the last six weeks!" protested Orville Jones. - -"George ordered him from Sears-Roebuck. You can get those English -high-muckamucks by mail for two bucks apiece," suggested Sidney Finkelstein. - -"That's all right now! Lord Wycombe, he's one of the biggest intellects in -English political life. As I was saying: Of course I'm conservative myself, -but I appreciate a guy like Senny Doane because--" - -Vergil Gunch interrupted harshly, "I wonder if you are so conservative? I find -I can manage to run my own business without any skunks and reds like Doane in -it!" - -The grimness of Gunch's voice, the hardness of his jaw, disconcerted Babbitt, -but he recovered and went on till they looked bored, then irritated, then as -doubtful as Gunch. - - -II - -He thought of Tanis always. With a stir he remembered her every aspect. His -arms yearned for her. "I've found her! I've dreamed of her all these years -and now I've found her!" he exulted. He met her at the movies in the morning; -he drove out to her flat in the late afternoon or on evenings when he was -believed to be at the Elks. He knew her financial affairs and advised her -about them, while she lamented her feminine ignorance, and praised his -masterfulness, and proved to know much more about bonds than he did. They had -remembrances, and laughter over old times. Once they quarreled, and he raged -that she was as "bossy" as his wife and far more whining when he was -inattentive. But that passed safely. - -Their high hour was a tramp on a ringing December afternoon, through -snow-drifted meadows down to the icy Chaloosa River. She was exotic in an -astrachan cap and a short beaver coat; she slid on the ice and shouted, and he -panted after her, rotund with laughter.... Myra Babbitt never slid on the ice. - -He was afraid that they would be seen together. In Zenith it is impossible to -lunch with a neighbor's wife without the fact being known, before nightfall, -in every house in your circle. But Tanis was beautifully discreet. However -appealingly she might turn to him when they were alone, she was gravely -detached when they were abroad, and he hoped that she would be taken for a -client. Orville Jones once saw them emerging from a movie theater, and Babbitt -bumbled, "Let me make you 'quainted with Mrs. Judique. Now here's a lady who -knows the right broker to come to, Orvy!" Mr. Jones, though he was a man -censorious of morals and of laundry machinery, seemed satisfied. - -His predominant fear--not from any especial fondness for her but from the -habit of propriety--was that his wife would learn of the affair. He was -certain that she knew nothing specific about Tanis, but he was also certain -that she suspected something indefinite. For years she had been bored by -anything more affectionate than a farewell kiss, yet she was hurt by any -slackening in his irritable periodic interest, and now he had no interest; -rather, a revulsion. He was completely faithful--to Tanis. He was distressed -by the sight of his wife's slack plumpness, by her puffs and billows of flesh, -by the tattered petticoat which she was always meaning and always forgetting -to throw away. But he was aware that she, so long attuned to him, caught all -his repulsions. He elaborately, heavily, jocularly tried to check them. He -couldn't. - -They had a tolerable Christmas. Kenneth Escott was there, admittedly engaged -to Verona. Mrs. Babbitt was tearful and called Kenneth her new son. Babbitt -was worried about Ted, because he had ceased complaining of the State -University and become suspiciously acquiescent. He wondered what the boy was -planning, and was too shy to ask. Himself, Babbitt slipped away on Christmas -afternoon to take his present, a silver cigarette-box, to Tanis. When he -returned Mrs. Babbitt asked, much too innocently, "Did you go out for a little -fresh air?" - -"Yes, just lil drive," he mumbled. - -After New Year's his wife proposed, "I heard from my sister to-day, George. -She isn't well. I think perhaps I ought to go stay with her for a few weeks." - -Now, Mrs. Babbitt was not accustomed to leave home during the winter except on -violently demanding occasions, and only the summer before, she had been gone -for weeks. Nor was Babbitt one of the detachable husbands who take -separations casually He liked to have her there; she looked after his clothes; -she knew how his steak ought to be cooked; and her clucking made him feel -secure. But he could not drum up even a dutiful "Oh, she doesn't really need -you, does she?" While he tried to look regretful, while he felt that his wife -was watching him, he was filled with exultant visions of Tanis. - -"Do you think I'd better go?" she said sharply. - -"You've got to decide, honey; I can't." - -She turned away, sighing, and his forehead was damp. - -Till she went, four days later, she was curiously still, he cumbrously -affectionate. Her train left at noon. As he saw it grow small beyond the -train-shed he longed to hurry to Tanis. - -"No, by golly, I won't do that!" he vowed. "I won't go near her for a week!" - -But he was at her flat at four. - - -III - -He who had once controlled or seemed to control his life in a progress -unimpassioned but diligent and sane was for that fortnight borne on a current -of desire and very bad whisky and all the complications of new acquaintances, -those furious new intimates who demand so much more attention than old -friends. Each morning he gloomily recognized his idiocies of the evening -before. With his head throbbing, his tongue and lips stinging from cigarettes, -he incredulously counted the number of drinks he had taken, and groaned, "I -got to quit!" He had ceased saying, "I WILL quit!" for however resolute he -might be at dawn, he could not, for a single evening, check his drift. - -He had met Tanis's friends; he had, with the ardent haste of the Midnight -People, who drink and dance and rattle and are ever afraid to be silent, been -adopted as a member of her group, which they called "The Bunch." He first met -them after a day when he had worked particularly hard and when he hoped to be -quiet with Tanis and slowly sip her admiration. - -From down the hall he could hear shrieks and the grind of a phonograph. As -Tanis opened the door he saw fantastic figures dancing in a haze of cigarette -smoke. The tables and chairs were against the wall. - -"Oh, isn't this dandy!" she gabbled at him. "Carrie Nork had the loveliest -idea. She decided it was time for a party, and she 'phoned the Bunch and told -'em to gather round. . . . George, this is Carrie." - -"Carrie" was, in the less desirable aspects of both, at once matronly and -spinsterish. She was perhaps forty; her hair was an unconvincing ash-blond; -and if her chest was flat, her hips were ponderous. She greeted Babbitt with a -giggling "Welcome to our little midst! Tanis says you're a real sport." - -He was apparently expected to dance, to be boyish and gay with Carrie, and he -did his unforgiving best. He towed her about the room, bumping into other -couples, into the radiator, into chair-legs cunningly ambushed. As he danced -he surveyed the rest of the Bunch: A thin young woman who looked capable, -conceited, and sarcastic. Another woman whom he could never quite remember. -Three overdressed and slightly effeminate young men--soda-fountain clerks, or -at least born for that profession. A man of his own age, immovable, -self-satisfied, resentful of Babbitt's presence. - -When he had finished his dutiful dance Tanis took him aside and begged, "Dear, -wouldn't you like to do something for me? I'm all out of booze, and the Bunch -want to celebrate. Couldn't you just skip down to Healey Hanson's and get -some?" - -"Sure," he said, trying not to sound sullen. - -"I'll tell you: I'll get Minnie Sonntag to drive down with you." Tanis was -pointing to the thin, sarcastic young woman. - -Miss Sonntag greeted him with an astringent "How d'you do, Mr. Babbitt. Tanis -tells me you're a very prominent man, and I'm honored by being allowed to -drive with you. Of course I'm not accustomed to associating with society -people like you, so I don't know how to act in such exalted circles!" - -Thus Miss Sonntag talked all the way down to Healey Hanson's. To her jibes he -wanted to reply "Oh, go to the devil!" but he never quite nerved himself to -that reasonable comment. He was resenting the existence of the whole Bunch. -He had heard Tanis speak of "darling Carrie" and "Min Sonntag--she's so -clever--you'll adore her," but they had never been real to him. He had -pictured Tanis as living in a rose-tinted vacuum, waiting for him, free of all -the complications of a Floral Heights. - -When they returned he had to endure the patronage of the young soda-clerks. -They were as damply friendly as Miss Sonntag was dryly hostile. They called -him "Old Georgie" and shouted, "Come on now, sport; shake a leg" . . . boys in -belted coats, pimply boys, as young as Ted and as flabby as chorus-men, but -powerful to dance and to mind the phonograph and smoke cigarettes and -patronize Tanis. He tried to be one of them; he cried "Good work, Pete!" but -his voice creaked. - -Tanis apparently enjoyed the companionship of the dancing darlings; she -bridled to their bland flirtation and casually kissed them at the end of each -dance. Babbitt hated her, for the moment. He saw her as middle-aged. He -studied the wrinkles in the softness of her throat, the slack flesh beneath -her chin. The taut muscles of her youth were loose and drooping. Between -dances she sat in the largest chair, waving her cigarette, summoning her -callow admirers to come and talk to her. ("She thinks she's a blooming queen!" -growled Babbitt.) She chanted to Miss Sonntag, "Isn't my little studio sweet?" -("Studio, rats! It's a plain old-maid-and-chow-dog flat! Oh, God, I wish I -was home! I wonder if I can't make a getaway now?") - -His vision grew blurred, however, as he applied himself to Healey Hanson's raw -but vigorous whisky. He blended with the Bunch. He began to rejoice that -Carrie Nork and Pete, the most nearly intelligent of the nimble youths, seemed -to like him; and it was enormously important to win over the surly older man, -who proved to be a railway clerk named Fulton Bemis. - -The conversation of the Bunch was exclamatory, high-colored, full of -references to people whom Babbitt did not know. Apparently they thought very -comfortably of themselves. They were the Bunch, wise and beautiful and -amusing; they were Bohemians and urbanites, accustomed to all the luxuries of -Zenith: dance-halls, movie-theaters, and roadhouses; and in a cynical -superiority to people who were "slow" or "tightwad" they cackled: - -"Oh, Pete, did I tell you what that dub of a cashier said when I came in late -yesterday? Oh, it was per-fect-ly priceless!" - -"Oh, but wasn't T. D. stewed! Say, he was simply ossified! What did Gladys -say to him?" - -"Think of the nerve of Bob Bickerstaff trying to get us to come to his house! -Say, the nerve of him! Can you beat it for nerve? Some nerve I call it!" - -"Did you notice how Dotty was dancing? Gee, wasn't she the limit!" - -Babbitt was to be heard sonorously agreeing with the once-hated Miss Minnie -Sonntag that persons who let a night go by without dancing to jazz music were -crabs, pikers, and poor fish; and he roared "You bet!" when Mrs. Carrie Nork -gurgled, "Don't you love to sit on the floor? It's so Bohemian!" He began to -think extremely well of the Bunch. When he mentioned his friends Sir Gerald -Doak, Lord Wycombe, William Washington Eathorne, and Chum Frink, he was proud -of their condescending interest. He got so thoroughly into the jocund spirit -that he didn't much mind seeing Tanis drooping against the shoulder of the -youngest and milkiest of the young men, and he himself desired to hold Carrie -Nork's pulpy hand, and dropped it only because Tanis looked angry. - -When he went home, at two, he was fully a member of the Bunch, and all the -week thereafter he was bound by the exceedingly straitened conventions, the -exceedingly wearing demands, of their life of pleasure and freedom. He had to -go to their parties; he was involved in the agitation when everybody -telephoned to everybody else that she hadn't meant what she'd said when she'd -said that, and anyway, why was Pete going around saying she'd said it? - -Never was a Family more insistent on learning one another's movements than -were the Bunch. All of them volubly knew, or indignantly desired to know, -where all the others had been every minute of the week. Babbitt found himself -explaining to Carrie or Fulton Bemis just what he had been doing that he -should not have joined them till ten o'clock, and apologizing for having gone -to dinner with a business acquaintance. - -Every member of the Bunch was expected to telephone to every other member at -least once a week. "Why haven't you called me up?" Babbitt was asked -accusingly, not only by Tanis and Carrie but presently by new ancient friends, -Jennie and Capitolina and Toots. - -If for a moment he had seen Tanis as withering and sentimental, he lost that -impression at Carrie Nork's dance. Mrs. Nork had a large house and a small -husband. To her party came all of the Bunch, perhaps thirty-five of them when -they were completely mobilized. Babbitt, under the name of "Old Georgie," was -now a pioneer of the Bunch, since each month it changed half its membership -and he who could recall the prehistoric days of a fortnight ago, before Mrs. -Absolom, the food-demonstrator, had gone to Indianapolis, and Mac had "got -sore at" Minnie, was a venerable leader and able to condescend to new Petes -and Minnies and Gladyses. - -At Carrie's, Tanis did not have to work at being hostess. She was dignified -and sure, a clear fine figure in the black chiffon frock he had always loved; -and in the wider spaces of that ugly house Babbitt was able to sit quietly -with her. He repented of his first revulsion, mooned at her feet, and happily -drove her home. Next day he bought a violent yellow tie, to make himself young -for her. He knew, a little sadly, that he could not make himself beautiful; he -beheld himself as heavy, hinting of fatness, but he danced, he dressed, he -chattered, to be as young as she was . . . as young as she seemed to be. - - -IV - -As all converts, whether to a religion, love, or gardening, find as by magic -that though hitherto these hobbies have not seemed to exist, now the whole -world is filled with their fury, so, once he was converted to dissipation, -Babbitt discovered agreeable opportunities for it everywhere. - -He had a new view of his sporting neighbor, Sam Doppelbrau. The Doppelbraus -were respectable people, industrious people, prosperous people, whose ideal of -happiness was an eternal cabaret. Their life was dominated by suburban -bacchanalia of alcohol, nicotine, gasoline, and kisses. They and their set -worked capably all the week, and all week looked forward to Saturday night, -when they would, as they expressed it, "throw a party;" and the thrown party -grew noisier and noisier up to Sunday dawn, and usually included an extremely -rapid motor expedition to nowhere in particular. - -One evening when Tanis was at the theater, Babbitt found himself being lively -with the Doppelbraus, pledging friendship with men whom he had for years -privily denounced to Mrs. Babbitt as a "rotten bunch of tin-horns that I -wouldn't go out with, rot if they were the last people on earth." That -evening he had sulkily come home and poked about in front of the house, -chipping off the walk the ice-clots, like fossil footprints, made by the steps -of passers-by during the recent snow. Howard Littlefield came up snuffling. - -"Still a widower, George?" - -"Yump. Cold again to-night." - -"What do you hear from the wife?" - -"She's feeling fine, but her sister is still pretty sick." - -"Say, better come in and have dinner with us to-night, George." - -"Oh--oh, thanks. Have to go out." - -Suddenly he could not endure Littlefield's recitals of the more interesting -statistics about totally uninteresting problems. He scraped at the walk and -grunted. - -Sam Doppelbrau appeared. - -"Evenin', Babbitt. Working hard?" - -"Yuh, lil exercise." - -"Cold enough for you to-night?" - -"Well, just about." - -"Still a widower?" - -"Uh-huh." - -"Say, Babbitt, while she's away--I know you don't care much for booze-fights, -but the Missus and I'd be awfully glad if you could come in some night. Think -you could stand a good cocktail for once?" - -"Stand it? Young fella, I bet old Uncle George can mix the best cocktail in -these United States!" - -"Hurray! That's the way to talk! Look here: There's some folks coming to -the house to-night, Louetta Swanson and some other live ones, and I'm going to -open up a bottle of pre-war gin, and maybe we'll dance a while. Why don't you -drop in and jazz it up a little, just for a change?" - -"Well--What time they coming?" - -He was at Sam Doppelbrau's at nine. It was the third time he had entered the -house. By ten he was calling Mr. Doppelbrau "Sam, old hoss." - -At eleven they all drove out to the Old Farm Inn. Babbitt sat in the back of -Doppelbrau's car with Louetta Swanson. Once he had timorously tried to make -love to her. Now he did not try; he merely made love; and Louetta dropped her -head on his shoulder, told him what a nagger Eddie was, and accepted Babbitt -as a decent and well-trained libertine. - -With the assistance of Tanis's Bunch, the Doppelbraus, and other companions in -forgetfulness, there was not an evening for two weeks when he did not return -home late and shaky. With his other faculties blurred he yet had the -motorist's gift of being able to drive when he could scarce walk; of slowing -down at corners and allowing for approaching cars. He came wambling into the -house. If Verona and Kenneth Escott were about, he got past them with a hasty -greeting, horribly aware of their level young glances, and hid himself -up-stairs. He found when he came into the warm house that he was hazier than -he had believed. His head whirled. He dared not lie down. He tried to soak -out the alcohol in a hot bath. For the moment his head was clearer but when he -moved about the bathroom his calculations of distance were wrong, so that he -dragged down the towels, and knocked over the soap-dish with a clatter which, -he feared, would betray him to the children. Chilly in his dressing-gown he -tried to read the evening paper. He could follow every word; he seemed to take -in the sense of things; but a minute afterward he could not have told what he -had been reading. When he went to bed his brain flew in circles, and he -hastily sat up, struggling for self-control. At last he was able to lie still, -feeling only a little sick and dizzy--and enormously ashamed. To hide his -"condition" from his own children! To have danced and shouted with people -whom he despised! To have said foolish things, sung idiotic songs, tried to -kiss silly girls! Incredulously he remembered that he had by his roaring -familiarity with them laid himself open to the patronizing of youths whom he -would have kicked out of his office; that by dancing too ardently he had -exposed himself to rebukes from the rattiest of withering women. As it came -relentlessly back to him he snarled, "I hate myself! God how I hate myself!" -But, he raged, "I'm through! No more! Had enough, plenty!" - -He was even surer about it the morning after, when he was trying to be grave -and paternal with his daughters at breakfast. At noontime he was less sure. -He did not deny that he had been a fool; he saw it almost as clearly as at -midnight; but anything, he struggled, was better than going back to a life of -barren heartiness. At four he wanted a drink. He kept a whisky flask in his -desk now, and after two minutes of battle he had his drink. Three drinks -later he began to see the Bunch as tender and amusing friends, and by six he -was with them . . . and the tale was to be told all over. - -Each morning his head ached a little less. A bad head for drinks had been his -safeguard, but the safeguard was crumbling. Presently he could be drunk at -dawn, yet not feel particularly wretched in his conscience--or in his -stomach--when he awoke at eight. No regret, no desire to escape the toil of -keeping up with the arduous merriment of the Bunch, was so great as his -feeling of social inferiority when he failed to keep up. To be the "livest" of -them was as much his ambition now as it had been to excel at making money, at -playing golf, at motor-driving, at oratory, at climbing to the McKelvey set. -But occasionally he failed. - -He found that Pete and the other young men considered the Bunch too austerely -polite and the Carrie who merely kissed behind doors too embarrassingly -monogamic. As Babbitt sneaked from Floral Heights down to the Bunch, so the -young gallants sneaked from the proprieties of the Bunch off to "times" with -bouncing young women whom they picked up in department stores and at hotel -coatrooms. Once Babbitt tried to accompany them. There was a motor car, a -bottle of whisky, and for him a grubby shrieking cash-girl from Parcher and -Stein's. He sat beside her and worried. He was apparently expected to "jolly -her along," but when she sang out, "Hey, leggo, quit crushing me -cootie-garage," he did not quite know how to go on. They sat in the back room -of a saloon, and Babbitt had a headache, was confused by their new slang -looked at them benevolently, wanted to go home, and had a drink--a good many -drinks. - -Two evenings after, Fulton Bemis, the surly older man of the Bunch, took -Babbitt aside and grunted, "Look here, it's none of my business, and God knows -I always lap up my share of the hootch, but don't you think you better watch -yourself? You're one of these enthusiastic chumps that always overdo things. -D' you realize you're throwing in the booze as fast as you can, and you eat -one cigarette right after another? Better cut it out for a while." - -Babbitt tearfully said that good old Fult was a prince, and yes, he certainly -would cut it out, and thereafter he lighted a cigarette and took a drink and -had a terrific quarrel with Tanis when she caught him being affectionate with -Carrie Nork. - -Next morning he hated himself that he should have sunk into a position where a -fifteenth-rater like Fulton Bemis could rebuke him. He perceived that, since -he was making love to every woman possible, Tanis was no longer his one pure -star, and he wondered whether she had ever been anything more to him than A -Woman. And if Bemis had spoken to him, were other people talking about him? -He suspiciously watched the men at the Athletic Club that noon. It seemed to -him that they were uneasy. They had been talking about him then? He was -angry. He became belligerent. He not only defended Seneca Doane but even made -fun of the Y. M. C. A, Vergil Gunch was rather brief in his answers. - -Afterward Babbitt was not angry. He was afraid. He did not go to the next -lunch of the Boosters' Club but hid in a cheap restaurant, and, while he -munched a ham-and-egg sandwich and sipped coffee from a cup on the arm of his -chair, he worried. - -Four days later, when the Bunch were having one of their best parties, Babbitt -drove them to the skating-rink which had been laid out on the Chaloosa River. -After a thaw the streets had frozen in smooth ice. Down those wide endless -streets the wind rattled between the rows of wooden houses, and the whole -Bellevue district seemed a frontier town. Even with skid chains on all four -wheels, Babbitt was afraid of sliding, and when he came to the long slide of a -hill he crawled down, both brakes on. Slewing round a corner came a less -cautious car. It skidded, it almost raked them with its rear fenders. In -relief at their escape the Bunch--Tanis, Minnie Sonntag, Pete, Fulton -Bemis--shouted "Oh, baby," and waved their hands to the agitated other driver. -Then Babbitt saw Professor Pumphrey laboriously crawling up hill, afoot, -Staring owlishly at the revelers. He was sure that Pumphrey recognized him -and saw Tanis kiss him as she crowed, "You're such a good driver!" - -At lunch next day he probed Pumphrey with "Out last night with my brother and -some friends of his. Gosh, what driving! Slippery 's glass. Thought I saw -you hiking up the Bellevue Avenue Hill." - -"No, I wasn't--I didn't see you," said Pumphrey, hastily, rather guiltily. - -Perhaps two days afterward Babbitt took Tanis to lunch at the Hotel -Thornleigh. She who had seemed well content to wait for him at her flat had -begun to hint with melancholy smiles that he must think but little of her if -he never introduced her to his friends, if he was unwilling to be seen with -her except at the movies. He thought of taking her to the "ladies' annex" of -the Athletic Club, but that was too dangerous. He would have to introduce her -and, oh, people might misunderstand and--He compromised on the Thornleigh. - -She was unusually smart, all in black: small black tricorne hat, short black -caracul coat, loose and swinging, and austere high-necked black velvet frock -at a time when most street costumes were like evening gowns. Perhaps she was -too smart. Every one in the gold and oak restaurant of the Thornleigh was -staring at her as Babbitt followed her to a table. He uneasily hoped that the -head-waiter would give them a discreet place behind a pillar, but they were -stationed on the center aisle. Tanis seemed not to notice her admirers; she -smiled at Babbitt with a lavish "Oh, isn't this nice! What a peppy-looking -orchestra!" Babbitt had difficulty in being lavish in return, for two tables -away he saw Vergil Gunch. All through the meal Gunch watched them, while -Babbitt watched himself being watched and lugubriously tried to keep from -spoiling Tanis's gaiety. "I felt like a spree to-day," she rippled. "I love -the Thornleigh, don't you? It's so live and yet so--so refined." - -He made talk about the Thornleigh, the service, the food, the people he -recognized in the restaurant, all but Vergil Gunch. There did not seem to be -anything else to talk of. He smiled conscientiously at her fluttering jests; -he agreed with her that Minnie Sonntag was "so hard to get along with," and -young Pete "such a silly lazy kid, really just no good at all." But he -himself had nothing to say. He considered telling her his worries about Gunch, -but--"oh, gosh, it was too much work to go into the whole thing and explain -about Verg and everything." - -He was relieved when he put Tanis on a trolley; he was cheerful in the -familiar simplicities of his office. - -At four o'clock Vergil Gunch called on him. - -Babbitt was agitated, but Gunch began in a friendly way: - -"How's the boy? Say, some of us are getting up a scheme we'd kind of like to -have you come in on." - -"Fine, Verg. Shoot." - -"You know during the war we had the Undesirable Element, the Reds and walking -delegates and just the plain common grouches, dead to rights, and so did we -for quite a while after the war, but folks forget about the danger and that -gives these cranks a chance to begin working underground again, especially a -lot of these parlor socialists. Well, it's up to the folks that do a little -sound thinking to make a conscious effort to keep bucking these fellows. Some -guy back East has organized a society called the Good Citizens' League for -just that purpose. Of course the Chamber of Commerce and the American Legion -and so on do a fine work in keeping the decent people in the saddle, but -they're devoted to so many other causes that they can't attend to this one -problem properly. But the Good Citizens' League, the G. C. L., they stick -right to it. Oh, the G. C. L. has to have some other ostensible -purposes--frinstance here in Zenith I think it ought to support the -park-extension project and the City Planning Committee--and then, too, it -should have a social aspect, being made up of the best people--have dances and -so on, especially as one of the best ways it can put the kibosh on cranks is -to apply this social boycott business to folks big enough so you can't reach -'em otherwise. Then if that don't work, the G. C. L. can finally send a little -delegation around to inform folks that get too flip that they got to conform -to decent standards and quit shooting off their mouths so free. Don't it sound -like the organization could do a great work? We've already got some of the -strongest men in town, and of course we want you in. How about it?" - -Babbitt was uncomfortable. He felt a compulsion back to all the standards he -had so vaguely yet so desperately been fleeing. He fumbled: - -"I suppose you'd especially light on fellows like Seneca Doane and try to make -'em--" - -"You bet your sweet life we would! Look here, old Georgie: I've never for -one moment believed you meant it when you've defended Doane, and the strikers -and so on, at the Club. I knew you were simply kidding those poor galoots -like Sid Finkelstein.... At least I certainly hope you were kidding!" - -"Oh, well--sure--Course you might say--" Babbitt was conscious of how feeble -he sounded, conscious of Gunch's mature and relentless eye. "Gosh, you know -where I stand! I'm no labor agitator! I'm a business man, first, last, and -all the time! But--but honestly, I don't think Doane means so badly, and you -got to remember he's an old friend of mine." - -"George, when it comes right down to a struggle between decency and the -security of our homes on the one hand, and red ruin and those lazy dogs -plotting for free beer on the other, you got to give up even old friendships. -'He that is not with me is against me.'" - -"Ye-es, I suppose--" - -"How about it? Going to join us in the Good Citizens' League?" - -"I'll have to think it over, Verg." - -"All right, just as you say." Babbitt was relieved to be let off so easily, -but Gunch went on: "George, I don't know what's come over you; none of us do; -and we've talked a lot about you. For a while we figured out you'd been upset -by what happened to poor Riesling, and we forgave you for any fool thing you -said, but that's old stuff now, George, and we can't make out what's got into -you. Personally, I've always defended you, but I must say it's getting too -much for me. All the boys at the Athletic Club and the Boosters' are sore, -the way you go on deliberately touting Doane and his bunch of hell-hounds, and -talking about being liberal--which means being wishy-washy--and even saying -this preacher guy Ingram isn't a professional free-love artist. And then the -way you been carrying on personally! Joe Pumphrey says he saw you out the -other night with a gang of totties, all stewed to the gills, and here to-day -coming right into the Thornleigh with a--well, she may be all right and a -perfect lady, but she certainly did look like a pretty gay skirt for a fellow -with his wife out of town to be taking to lunch. Didn't look well. What the -devil has come over you, George?" - -"Strikes me there's a lot of fellows that know more about my personal business -than I do myself!" - -"Now don't go getting sore at me because I come out flatfooted like a friend -and say what I think instead of tattling behind your back, the way a whole lot -of 'em do. I tell you George, you got a position in the community, and the -community expects you to live up to it. And--Better think over joining the -Good Citizens' League. See you about it later." - -He was gone. - -That evening Babbitt dined alone. He saw all the Clan of Good Fellows peering -through the restaurant window, spying on him. Fear sat beside him, and he -told himself that to-night he would not go to Tanis's flat; and he did not go -. . . till late. - - - -CHAPTER XXX - -I - -THE summer before, Mrs. Babbitt's letters had crackled with desire to return -to Zenith. Now they said nothing of returning, but a wistful "I suppose -everything is going on all right without me" among her dry chronicles of -weather and sicknesses hinted to Babbitt that he hadn't been very urgent about -her coming. He worried it: - -"If she were here, and I went on raising cain like I been doing, she'd have a -fit. I got to get hold of myself. I got to learn to play around and yet not -make a fool of myself. I can do it, too, if folks like Verg Gunch 'll let me -alone, and Myra 'll stay away. But--poor kid, she sounds lonely. Lord, I -don't want to hurt her!" - -Impulsively he wrote that they missed her, and her next letter said happily -that she was coming home. - -He persuaded himself that he was eager to see her. He bought roses for the -house, he ordered squab for dinner, he had the car cleaned and polished. All -the way home from the station with her he was adequate in his accounts of -Ted's success in basket-ball at the university, but before they reached Floral -Heights there was nothing more to say, and already he felt the force of her -stolidity, wondered whether he could remain a good husband and still sneak out -of the house this evening for half an hour with the Bunch. When he had housed -the car he blundered upstairs, into the familiar talcum-scented warmth of her -presence, blaring, "Help you unpack your bag?" - -"No, I can do it." - -Slowly she turned, holding up a small box, and slowly she said, "I brought you -a present, just a new cigar-case. I don't know if you'd care to have it--" - -She was the lonely girl, the brown appealing Myra Thompson, whom he had -married, and he almost wept for pity as he kissed her and besought, "Oh, -honey, honey, CARE to have it? Of course I do! I'm awful proud you brought it -to me. And I needed a new case badly." - -He wondered how he would get rid of the case he had bought the week before. - -"And you really are glad to see me back?" - -"Why, you poor kiddy, what you been worrying about?" - -"Well, you didn't seem to miss me very much." - -By the time he had finished his stint of lying they were firmly bound again. -By ten that evening it seemed improbable that she had ever been away. There -was but one difference: the problem of remaining a respectable husband, a -Floral Heights husband, yet seeing Tanis and the Bunch with frequency. He had -promised to telephone to Tanis that evening, and now it was melodramatically -impossible. He prowled about the telephone, impulsively thrusting out a hand -to lift the receiver, but never quite daring to risk it. Nor could he find a -reason for slipping down to the drug store on Smith Street, with its -telephone-booth. He was laden with responsibility till he threw it off with -the speculation: "Why the deuce should I fret so about not being able to -'phone Tanis? She can get along without me. I don't owe her anything. She's -a fine girl, but I've given her just as much as she has me. . . . Oh, damn -these women and the way they get you all tied up in complications!" - - -II - -For a week he was attentive to his wife, took her to the theater, to dinner at -the Littlefields'; then the old weary dodging and shifting began and at least -two evenings a week he spent with the Bunch. He still made pretense of going -to the Elks and to committee-meetings but less and less did he trouble to have -his excuses interesting, less and less did she affect to believe them. He was -certain that she knew he was associating with what Floral Heights called "a -sporty crowd," yet neither of them acknowledged it. In matrimonial geography -the distance between the first mute recognition of a break and the admission -thereof is as great as the distance between the first naive faith and the -first doubting. - -As he began to drift away he also began to see her as a human being, to like -and dislike her instead of accepting her as a comparatively movable part of -the furniture, and he compassionated that husband-and-wife relation which, in -twenty-five years of married life, had become a separate and real entity. He -recalled their high lights the summer vacation in Virginia meadows under the -blue wall of the mountains; their motor tour through Ohio, and the exploration -of Cleveland, Cincinnati, and Columbus; the birth of Verona; their building of -this new house, planned to comfort them through a happy old age--chokingly -they had said that it might be the last home either of them would ever have. -Yet his most softening remembrance of these dear moments did not keep him from -barking at dinner, "Yep, going out f' few hours. Don't sit up for me." - -He did not dare now to come home drunk, and though he rejoiced in his return -to high morality and spoke with gravity to Pete and Fulton Bemis about their -drinking, he prickled at Myra's unexpressed criticisms and sulkily meditated -that a "fellow couldn't ever learn to handle himself if he was always bossed -by a lot of women." - -He no longer wondered if Tanis wasn't a bit worn and sentimental. In contrast -to the complacent Myra he saw her as swift and air-borne and radiant, a -fire-spirit tenderly stooping to the hearth, and however pitifully he brooded -on his wife, he longed to be with Tanis. - -Then Mrs. Babbitt tore the decent cloak from her unhappiness and the astounded -male discovered that she was having a small determined rebellion of her own. - - -III - -They were beside the fireless fire-place, in the evening. - -"Georgie," she said, "you haven't given me the list of your household expenses -while I was away." - -"No, I--Haven't made it out yet." Very affably: "Gosh, we must try to keep -down expenses this year." - -"That's so. I don't know where all the money goes to. I try to economize, but -it just seems to evaporate." - -"I suppose I oughtn't to spend so much on cigars. Don't know but what I'll -cut down my smoking, maybe cut it out entirely. I was thinking of a good way -to do it, the other day: start on these cubeb cigarettes, and they'd kind of -disgust me with smoking." - -"Oh, I do wish you would! It isn't that I care, but honestly, George, it is -so bad for you to smoke so much. Don't you think you could reduce the amount? -And George--I notice now, when you come home from these lodges and all, that -sometimes you smell of whisky. Dearie, you know I don't worry so much about -the moral side of it, but you have a weak stomach and you can't stand all this -drinking." - -"Weak stomach, hell! I guess I can carry my booze about as well as most -folks!" - -"Well, I do think you ought to be careful. Don't you see, dear, I don't want -you to get sick." - -"Sick rats! I'm not a baby! I guess I ain't going to get sick just because -maybe once a week I shoot a highball! That's the trouble with women. They -always exaggerate so." - -"George, I don't think you ought to talk that way when I'm just speaking for -your own good." - -"I know, but gosh all fishhooks, that's the trouble with women! They're always -criticizing and commenting and bringing things up, and then they say it's 'for -your own good'!" - -"Why, George, that's not a nice way to talk, to answer me so short." - -"Well, I didn't mean to answer short, but gosh, talking as if I was a -kindergarten brat, not able to tote one highball without calling for the St. -Mary's ambulance! A fine idea you must have of me!" - -"Oh, it isn't that; it's just--I don't want to see you get sick and--My, I -didn't know it was so late! Don't forget to give me those household accounts -for the time while I was away." - -"Oh, thunder, what's the use of taking the trouble to make 'em out now? Let's -just skip 'em for that period." - -"Why, George Babbitt, in all the years we've been married we've never failed -to keep a complete account of every penny we've spent!" - -"No. Maybe that's the trouble with us." - -"What in the world do you mean?" - -"Oh, I don't mean anything, only--Sometimes I get so darn sick and tired of -all this routine and the accounting at the office and expenses at home and -fussing and stewing and fretting and wearing myself out worrying over a lot of -junk that doesn't really mean a doggone thing, and being so careful and--Good -Lord, what do you think I'm made for? I could have been a darn good orator, -and here I fuss and fret and worry--" - -"Don't you suppose I ever get tired of fussing? I get so bored with ordering -three meals a day, three hundred and sixty-five days a year, and ruining my -eyes over that horrid sewing-machine, and looking after your clothes and -Rone's and Ted's and Tinka's and everybody's, and the laundry, and darning -socks, and going down to the Piggly Wiggly to market, and bringing my basket -home to save money on the cash-and-carry and--EVERYTHING!" - -"Well, gosh," with a certain astonishment, "I suppose maybe you do! But talk -about--Here I have to be in the office every single day, while you can go out -all afternoon and see folks and visit with the neighbors and do any blinkin' -thing you want to!" - -"Yes, and a fine lot of good that does me! Just talking over the same old -things with the same old crowd, while you have all sorts of interesting people -coming in to see you at the office." - -"Interesting! Cranky old dames that want to know why I haven't rented their -dear precious homes for about seven times their value, and bunch of old crabs -panning the everlasting daylights out of me because they don't receive every -cent of their rentals by three G.M. on the second of the month! Sure! -Interesting! Just as interesting as the small pox!" - -"Now, George, I will not have you shouting at me that way!" - -"Well, it gets my goat the way women figure out that a man doesn't do a darn -thing but sit on his chair and have lovey-dovey conferences with a lot of -classy dames and give 'em the glad eye!" - -"I guess you manage to give them a glad enough eye when they do come in." - -"What do you mean? Mean I'm chasing flappers?" - -"I should hope not--at your age!" - -"Now you look here! You may not believe it--Of course all you see is fat -little Georgie Babbitt. Sure! Handy man around the house! Fixes the furnace -when the furnace-man doesn't show up, and pays the bills, but dull, awful -dull! Well, you may not believe it, but there's some women that think old -George Babbitt isn't such a bad scout! They think he's not so bad-looking, not -so bad that it hurts anyway, and he's got a pretty good line of guff, and some -even think he shakes a darn wicked Walkover at dancing!" - -"Yes." She spoke slowly. "I haven't much doubt that when I'm away you manage -to find people who properly appreciate you." - -"Well, I just mean--" he protested, with a sound of denial. Then he was -angered into semi-honesty. "You bet I do! I find plenty of folks, and doggone -nice ones, that don't think I'm a weak-stomached baby!" - -"That's exactly what I was saying! You can run around with anybody you -please, but I'm supposed to sit here and wait for you. You have the chance to -get all sorts of culture and everything, and I just stay home--" - -"Well, gosh almighty, there's nothing to prevent your reading books and going -to lectures and all that junk, is there?" - -"George, I told you, I won't have you shouting at me like that! I don't know -what's come over you. You never used to speak to me in this cranky way." - -"I didn't mean to sound cranky, but gosh, it certainly makes me sore to get -the blame because you don't keep up with things." - -"I'm going to! Will you help me?" - -"Sure. Anything I can do to help you in the culture-grabbing line--yours to -oblige, G. F. Babbitt." - -"Very well then, I want you to go to Mrs. Mudge's New Thought meeting with me, -next Sunday afternoon." - -"Mrs. Who's which?" - -"Mrs. Opal Emerson Mudge. The field-lecturer for the American New Thought -League. She's going to speak on 'Cultivating the Sun Spirit' before the -League of the Higher Illumination, at the Thornleigh." - -"Oh, punk! New Thought! Hashed thought with a poached egg! 'Cultivating -the--' It sounds like 'Why is a mouse when it spins?' That's a fine spiel for -a good Presbyterian to be going to, when you can hear Doc Drew!" - -"Reverend Drew is a scholar and a pulpit orator and all that, but he hasn't -got the Inner Ferment, as Mrs. Mudge calls it; he hasn't any inspiration for -the New Era. Women need inspiration now. So I want you to come, as you -promised." - - -IV - -The Zenith branch of the League of the Higher Illumination met in the smaller -ballroom at the Hotel Thornleigh, a refined apartment with pale green walls -and plaster wreaths of roses, refined parquet flooring, and ultra-refined -frail gilt chairs. Here were gathered sixty-five women and ten men. Most of -the men slouched in their chairs and wriggled, while their wives sat rigidly -at attention, but two of them--red-necked, meaty men--were as respectably -devout as their wives. They were newly rich contractors who, having bought -houses, motors, hand-painted pictures, and gentlemanliness, were now buying a -refined ready-made philosophy. It had been a toss-up with them whether to buy -New Thought, Christian Science, or a good standard high-church model of -Episcopalianism. - -In the flesh, Mrs. Opal Emerson Mudge fell somewhat short of a prophetic -aspect. She was pony-built and plump, with the face of a haughty Pekingese, a -button of a nose, and arms so short that, despite her most indignant -endeavors, she could not clasp her hands in front of her as she sat on the -platform waiting. Her frock of taffeta and green velvet, with three strings of -glass beads, and large folding eye-glasses dangling from a black ribbon, was a -triumph of refinement. - -Mrs. Mudge was introduced by the president of the League of the Higher -Illumination, an oldish young woman with a yearning voice, white spats, and a -mustache. She said that Mrs. Mudge would now make it plain to the simplest -intellect how the Sun Spirit could be cultivated, and they who had been -thinking about cultivating one would do well to treasure Mrs. Mudge's words, -because even Zenith (and everybody knew that Zenith stood in the van of -spiritual and New Thought progress) didn't often have the opportunity to sit -at the feet of such an inspiring Optimist and Metaphysical Seer as Mrs. Opal -Emerson Mudge, who had lived the Life of Wider Usefulness through -Concentration, and in the Silence found those Secrets of Mental Control and -the Inner Key which were immediately going to transform and bring Peace, -Power, and Prosperity to the unhappy nations; and so, friends, would they for -this precious gem-studded hour forget the Illusions of the Seeming Real, and -in the actualization of the deep-lying Veritas pass, along with Mrs. Opal -Emerson Mudge, to the Realm Beautiful. - -If Mrs. Mudge was rather pudgier than one would like one's swamis, yogis, -seers, and initiates, yet her voice had the real professional note. It was -refined and optimistic; it was overpoweringly calm; it flowed on relentlessly, -without one comma, till Babbitt was hypnotized. Her favorite word was -"always," which she pronounced olllllle-ways. Her principal gesture was a -pontifical but thoroughly ladylike blessing with two stubby fingers. - -She explained about this matter of Spiritual Saturation: - -"There are those--" - -Of "those" she made a linked sweetness long drawn out; a far-off delicate call -in a twilight minor. It chastely rebuked the restless husbands, yet brought -them a message of healing. - -"There are those who have seen the rim and outer seeming of the logos there -are those who have glimpsed and in enthusiasm possessed themselves of some -segment and portion of the Logos there are those who thus flicked but not -penetrated and radioactivated by the Dynamis go always to and fro assertative -that they possess and are possessed of the Logos and the Metaphysikos but this -word I bring you this concept I enlarge that those that are not utter are not -even inceptive and that holiness is in its definitive essence always always -always whole-iness and--" - -It proved that the Essence of the Sun Spirit was Truth, but its Aura and -Effluxion were Cheerfulness: - -"Face always the day with the dawn-laugh with the enthusiasm of the initiate -who perceives that all works together in the revolutions of the Wheel and who -answers the strictures of the Soured Souls of the Destructionists with a Glad -Affirmation--" - -It went on for about an hour and seven minutes. - -At the end Mrs. Mudge spoke with more vigor and punctuation: - -"Now let me suggest to all of you the advantages of the Theosophical and -Pantheistic Oriental Reading Circle, which I represent. Our object is to -unite all the manifestations of the New Era into one cohesive whole--New -Thought, Christian Science, Theosophy, Vedanta, Bahaism, and the other sparks -from the one New Light. The subscription is but ten dollars a year, and for -this mere pittance the members receive not only the monthly magazine, Pearls -of Healing, but the privilege of sending right to the president, our revered -Mother Dobbs, any questions regarding spiritual progress, matrimonial -problems, health and well-being questions, financial difficulties, and--" - -They listened to her with adoring attention. They looked genteel. They looked -ironed-out. They coughed politely, and crossed their legs with quietness, and -in expensive linen handkerchiefs they blew their noses with a delicacy -altogether optimistic and refined. - -As for Babbitt, he sat and suffered. - -When they were blessedly out in the air again, when they drove home through a -wind smelling of snow and honest sun, he dared not speak. They had been too -near to quarreling, these days. Mrs. Babbitt forced it: - -"Did you enjoy Mrs. Mudge's talk?" - -"Well I--What did you get out of it?" - -"Oh, it starts a person thinking. It gets you out of a routine of ordinary -thoughts." - -"Well, I'll hand it to Opal she isn't ordinary, but gosh--Honest, did that -stuff mean anything to you?" - -"Of course I'm not trained in metaphysics, and there was lots I couldn't quite -grasp, but I did feel it was inspiring. And she speaks so readily. I do think -you ought to have got something out of it." - -"Well, I didn't! I swear, I was simply astonished, the way those women lapped -it up! Why the dickens they want to put in their time listening to all that -blaa when they--" - -"It's certainly better for them than going to roadhouses and smoking and -drinking!" - -"I don't know whether it is or not! Personally I don't see a whole lot of -difference. In both cases they're trying to get away from themselves--most -everybody is, these days, I guess. And I'd certainly get a whole lot more out -of hoofing it in a good lively dance, even in some dive, than sitting looking -as if my collar was too tight, and feeling too scared to spit, and listening -to Opal chewing her words." - -"I'm sure you do! You're very fond of dives. No doubt you saw a lot of them -while I was away!" - -"Look here! You been doing a hell of a lot of insinuating and hinting around -lately, as if I were leading a double life or something, and I'm damn sick of -it, and I don't want to hear anything more about it!" - -"Why, George Babbitt! Do you realize what you're saying? Why, George, in all -our years together you've never talked to me like that!" - -"It's about time then!" - -"Lately you've been getting worse and worse, and now, finally, you're cursing -and swearing at me and shouting at me, and your voice so ugly and hateful--I -just shudder!" - -"Oh, rats, quit exaggerating! I wasn't shouting, or swearing either." - -"I wish you could hear your own voice! Maybe you don't realize how it sounds. -But even so--You never used to talk like that. You simply COULDN'T talk this -way if something dreadful hadn't happened to you." - -His mind was hard. With amazement he found that he wasn't particularly sorry. -It was only with an effort that he made himself more agreeable: "Well, gosh, -I didn't mean to get sore." - -"George, do you realize that we can't go on like this, getting farther and -farther apart, and you ruder and ruder to me? I just don't know what's going -to happen." - -He had a moment's pity for her bewilderment; he thought of how many deep and -tender things would be hurt if they really "couldn't go on like this." But his -pity was impersonal, and he was wondering, "Wouldn't it maybe be a good thing -if--Not a divorce and all that, o' course, but kind of a little more -independence?" - -While she looked at him pleadingly he drove on in a dreadful silence. - - - -CHAPTER XXXI - -I - -WHEN he was away from her, while he kicked about the garage and swept the snow -off the running-board and examined a cracked hose-connection, he repented, he -was alarmed and astonished that he could have flared out at his wife, and -thought fondly how much more lasting she was than the flighty Bunch. He went -in to mumble that he was "sorry, didn't mean to be grouchy," and to inquire as -to her interest in movies. But in the darkness of the movie theater he -brooded that he'd "gone and tied himself up to Myra all over again." He had -some satisfaction in taking it out on Tanis Judique. "Hang Tanis anyway! -Why'd she gone and got him into these mix-ups and made him all jumpy and -nervous and cranky? Too many complications! Cut 'em out!" - -He wanted peace. For ten days he did not see Tanis nor telephone to her, and -instantly she put upon him the compulsion which he hated. When he had stayed -away from her for five days, hourly taking pride in his resoluteness and -hourly picturing how greatly Tanis must miss him, Miss McGoun reported, "Mrs. -Judique on the 'phone. Like t' speak t' you 'bout some repairs." - -Tanis was quick and quiet: - -"Mr. Babbitt? Oh, George, this is Tanis. I haven't seen you for weeks--days, -anyway. You aren't sick, are you?" - -"No, just been terribly rushed. I, uh, I think there'll be a big revival of -building this year. Got to, uh, got to work hard." - -"Of course, my man! I want you to. You know I'm terribly ambitious for you; -much more than I am for myself. I just don't want you to forget poor Tanis. -Will you call me up soon?" - -"Sure! Sure! You bet!" - -"Please do. I sha'n't call you again." - -He meditated, "Poor kid! . . . But gosh, she oughtn't to 'phone me at the -office.... She's a wonder--sympathy 'ambitious for me.' . . . But gosh, I -won't be made and compelled to call her up till I get ready. Darn these -women, the way they make demands! It'll be one long old time before I see her! -. . . But gosh, I'd like to see her to-night--sweet little thing.... Oh, cut -that, son! Now you've broken away, be wise!" - -She did not telephone again, nor he, but after five more days she wrote to -him: - - -Have I offended you? You must know, dear, I didn't mean to. I'm so lonely and -I need somebody to cheer me up. Why didn't you come to the nice party we had -at Carrie's last evening I remember she invited you. Can't you come around -here to-morrow Thur evening? I shall be alone and hope to see you. - - -His reflections were numerous: - -"Doggone it, why can't she let me alone? Why can't women ever learn a fellow -hates to be bulldozed? And they always take advantage of you by yelling how -lonely they are. - -"Now that isn't nice of you, young fella. She's a fine, square, straight -girl, and she does get lonely. She writes a swell hand. Nice-looking -stationery. Plain. Refined. I guess I'll have to go see her. Well, thank -God, I got till to-morrow night free of her, anyway. - -"She's nice but--Hang it, I won't be MADE to do things! I'm not married to -her. No, nor by golly going to be! - -"Oh, rats, I suppose I better go see her." - - -II - -Thursday, the to-morrow of Tanis's note, was full of emotional crises. At the -Roughnecks' Table at the club, Verg Gunch talked of the Good Citizens' League -and (it seemed to Babbitt) deliberately left him out of the invitations to -join. Old Mat Penniman, the general utility man at Babbitt's office, had -Troubles, and came in to groan about them: his oldest boy was "no good," his -wife was sick, and he had quarreled with his brother-in-law. Conrad Lyte also -had Troubles, and since Lyte was one of his best clients, Babbitt had to -listen to them. Mr. Lyte, it appeared, was suffering from a peculiarly -interesting neuralgia, and the garage had overcharged him. When Babbitt came -home, everybody had Troubles: his wife was simultaneously thinking about -discharging the impudent new maid, and worried lest the maid leave; and Tinka -desired to denounce her teacher. - -"Oh, quit fussing!" Babbitt fussed. "You never hear me whining about my -Troubles, and yet if you had to run a real-estate office--Why, to-day I found -Miss Bannigan was two days behind with her accounts, and I pinched my finger -in my desk, and Lyte was in and just as unreasonable as ever." - -He was so vexed that after dinner, when it was time for a tactful escape to -Tanis, he merely grumped to his wife, "Got to go out. Be back by eleven, -should think." - -"Oh! You're going out again?" - -"Again! What do you mean 'again'! Haven't hardly been out of the house for a -week!" - -"Are you--are you going to the Elks?" - -"Nope. Got to see some people." - -Though this time he heard his own voice and knew that it was curt, though she -was looking at him with wide-eyed reproach, he stumped into the hall, jerked -on his ulster and furlined gloves, and went out to start the car. - -He was relieved to find Tanis cheerful, unreproachful, and brilliant in a -frock of brown net over gold tissue. "You poor man, having to come out on a -night like this! It's terribly cold. Don't you think a small highball would -be nice?" - -"Now, by golly, there's a woman with savvy! I think we could more or less -stand a highball if it wasn't too long a one--not over a foot tall!" - -He kissed her with careless heartiness, he forgot the compulsion of her -demands, he stretched in a large chair and felt that he had beautifully come -home. He was suddenly loquacious; he told her what a noble and misunderstood -man he was, and how superior to Pete, Fulton Bemis, and the other men of their -acquaintance; and she, bending forward, chin in charming hand, brightly -agreed. But when he forced himself to ask, "Well, honey, how's things with -YOU," she took his duty-question seriously, and he discovered that she too had -Troubles: - -"Oh, all right but--I did get so angry with Carrie. She told Minnie that I -told her that Minnie was an awful tightwad, and Minnie told me Carrie had told -her, and of course I told her I hadn't said anything of the kind, and then -Carrie found Minnie had told me, and she was simply furious because Minnie had -told me, and of course I was just boiling because Carrie had told her I'd told -her, and then we all met up at Fulton's--his wife is away--thank heavens!--oh, -there's the dandiest floor in his house to dance on--and we were all of us -simply furious at each other and--Oh, I do hate that kind of a mix-up, don't -you? I mean--it's so lacking in refinement, but--And Mother wants to come and -stay with me for a whole month, and of course I do love her, I suppose I do, -but honestly, she'll cramp my style something dreadful--she never can learn -not to comment, and she always wants to know where I'm going when I go out -evenings, and if I lie to her she always spies around and ferrets around and -finds out where I've been, and then she looks like Patience on a Monument till -I could just scream. And oh, I MUST tell you--You know I never talk about -myself; I just hate people who do, don't you? But--I feel so stupid to-night, -and I know I must be boring you with all this but--What would you do about -Mother?" - -He gave her facile masculine advice. She was to put off her mother's stay. -She was to tell Carrie to go to the deuce. For these valuable revelations she -thanked him, and they ambled into the familiar gossip of the Bunch. Of what a -sentimental fool was Carrie. Of what a lazy brat was Pete. Of how nice -Fulton Bemis could be--"course lots of people think he's a regular old grouch -when they meet him because he doesn't give 'em the glad hand the first crack -out of the box, but when they get to know him, he's a corker." - -But as they had gone conscientiously through each of these analyses before, -the conversation staggered. Babbitt tried to be intellectual and deal with -General Topics. He said some thoroughly sound things about Disarmament, and -broad-mindedness and liberalism; but it seemed to him that General Topics -interested Tanis only when she could apply them to Pete, Carrie, or -themselves. He was distressingly conscious of their silence. He tried to stir -her into chattering again, but silence rose like a gray presence and hovered -between them. - -"I, uh--" he labored. "It strikes me--it strikes me that unemployment is -lessening." - -"Maybe Pete will get a decent job, then." - -Silence. - -Desperately he essayed, "What's the trouble, old honey? You seem kind of quiet -to-night." - -"Am I? Oh, I'm not. But--do you really care whether I am or not?" - -"Care? Sure! Course I do!" - -"Do you really?" She swooped on him, sat on the arm of his chair. - -He hated the emotional drain of having to appear fond of her. He stroked her -hand, smiled up at her dutifully, and sank back. - -"George, I wonder if you really like me at all?" - -"Course I do, silly." - -"Do you really, precious? Do you care a bit?" - -"Why certainly! You don't suppose I'd be here if I didn't!" - -"Now see here, young man, I won't have you speaking to me in that huffy way!" - -"I didn't mean to sound huffy. I just--" In injured and rather childish -tones: "Gosh almighty, it makes me tired the way everybody says I sound huffy -when I just talk natural! Do they expect me to sing it or something?" - -"Who do you mean by 'everybody'? How many other ladies have you been -consoling?" - -"Look here now, I won't have this hinting!" - -Humbly: "I know, dear. I was only teasing. I know it didn't mean to talk -huffy--it was just tired. Forgive bad Tanis. But say you love me, say it!" - -"I love you.... Course I do." - -"Yes, you do!" cynically. "Oh, darling, I don't mean to be rude but--I get so -lonely. I feel so useless. Nobody needs me, nothing I can do for anybody. -And you know, dear, I'm so active--I could be if there was something to do. -And I am young, aren't I! I'm not an old thing! I'm not old and stupid, am -I?" - -He had to assure her. She stroked his hair, and he had to look pleased under -that touch, the more demanding in its beguiling softness. He was impatient. -He wanted to flee out to a hard, sure, unemotional man-world. Through her -delicate and caressing fingers she may have caught something of his shrugging -distaste. She left him--he was for the moment buoyantly relieved--she dragged -a footstool to his feet and sat looking beseechingly up at him. But as in many -men the cringing of a dog, the flinching of a frightened child, rouse not pity -but a surprised and jerky cruelty, so her humility only annoyed him. And he -saw her now as middle-aged, as beginning to be old. Even while he detested his -own thoughts, they rode him. She was old, he winced. Old! He noted how the -soft flesh was creasing into webby folds beneath her chin, below her eyes, at -the base of her wrists. A patch of her throat had a minute roughness like the -crumbs from a rubber eraser. Old! She was younger in years than himself, yet -it was sickening to have her yearning up at him with rolling great eyes--as -if, he shuddered, his own aunt were making love to him. - -He fretted inwardly, "I'm through with this asinine fooling around. I'm going -to cut her out. She's a darn decent nice woman, and I don't want to hurt her, -but it'll hurt a lot less to cut her right out, like a good clean surgical -operation." - -He was on his feet. He was speaking urgently. By every rule of self-esteem, -he had to prove to her, and to himself, that it was her fault. - -"I suppose maybe I'm kind of out of sorts to-night, but honest, honey, when I -stayed away for a while to catch up on work and everything and figure out -where I was at, you ought to have been cannier and waited till I came back. -Can't you see, dear, when you MADE me come, I--being about an average -bull-headed chump--my tendency was to resist? Listen, dear, I'm going now--" - -"Not for a while, precious! No!" - -"Yep. Right now. And then sometime we'll see about the future." - -"What do you mean, dear, 'about the future'? Have I done something I oughtn't -to? Oh, I'm so dreadfully sorry!" - -He resolutely put his hands behind him. "Not a thing, God bless you, not a -thing. You're as good as they make 'em. But it's just--Good Lord, do you -realize I've got things to do in the world? I've got a business to attend to -and, you might not believe it, but I've got a wife and kids that I'm awful -fond of!" Then only during the murder he was committing was he able to feel -nobly virtuous. "I want us to be friends but, gosh, I can't go on this way -feeling I got to come up here every so often--" - -"Oh, darling, darling, and I've always told you, so carefully, that you were -absolutely free. I just wanted you to come around when you were tired and -wanted to talk to me, or when you could enjoy our parties--" - -She was so reasonable, she was so gently right! It took him an hour to make -his escape, with nothing settled and everything horribly settled. In a barren -freedom of icy Northern wind he sighed, "Thank God that's over! Poor Tanis, -poor darling decent Tanis! But it is over. Absolute! I'm free!" - - - -CHAPTER XXXII - -I - -HIS wife was up when he came in. "Did you have a good time?" she sniffed. - -"I did not. I had a rotten time! Anything else I got to explain?" - -"George, how can you speak like--Oh, I don't know what's come over you!" - -"Good Lord, there's nothing come over me! Why do you look for trouble all the -time?" He was warning himself, "Careful! Stop being so disagreeable. Course -she feels it, being left alone here all evening." But he forgot his warning -as she went on: - -"Why do you go out and see all sorts of strange people? I suppose you'll say -you've been to another committee-meeting this evening!" - -"Nope. I've been calling on a woman. We sat by the fire and kidded each -other and had a whale of a good time, if you want to know!" - -"Well--From the way you say it, I suppose it's my fault you went there! I -probably sent you!" - -"You did!" - -"Well, upon my word--" - -"You hate 'strange people' as you call 'em. If you had your way, I'd be as -much of an old stick-in-the-mud as Howard Littlefield. You never want to have -anybody with any git to 'em at the house; you want a bunch of old stiffs that -sit around and gas about the weather. You're doing your level best to make me -old. Well, let me tell you, I'm not going to have--" - -Overwhelmed she bent to his unprecedented tirade, and in answer she mourned: - -"Oh, dearest, I don't think that's true. I don't mean to make you old, I -know. Perhaps you're partly right. Perhaps I am slow about getting acquainted -with new people. But when you think of all the dear good times we have, and -the supper-parties and the movies and all--" - -With true masculine wiles he not only convinced himself that she had injured -him but, by the loudness of his voice and the brutality of his attack, he -convinced her also, and presently he had her apologizing for his having spent -the evening with Tanis. He went up to bed well pleased, not only the master -but the martyr of the household. For a distasteful moment after he had lain -down he wondered if he had been altogether just. "Ought to be ashamed, -bullying her. Maybe there is her side to things. Maybe she hasn't had such a -bloomin' hectic time herself. But I don't care! Good for her to get waked up -a little. And I'm going to keep free. Of her and Tanis and the fellows at the -club and everybody. I'm going to run my own life!" - - -II - -In this mood he was particularly objectionable at the Boosters' Club lunch -next day. They were addressed by a congressman who had just returned from an -exhaustive three-months study of the finances, ethnology, political systems, -linguistic divisions, mineral resources, and agriculture of Germany, France, -Great Britain, Italy, Austria, Czechoslovakia, Jugoslavia, and Bulgaria. He -told them all about those subjects, together with three funny stories about -European misconceptions of America and some spirited words on the necessity of -keeping ignorant foreigners out of America. - -"Say, that was a mighty informative talk. Real he-stuff," said Sidney -Finkelstein. - -But the disaffected Babbitt grumbled, "Four-flusher! Bunch of hot air! And -what's the matter with the immigrants? Gosh, they aren't all ignorant, and I -got a hunch we're all descended from immigrants ourselves." - -"Oh, you make me tired!" said Mr. Finkelstein. - -Babbitt was aware that Dr. A. I. Dilling was sternly listening from across the -table. Dr. Dilling was one of the most important men in the Boosters'. He was -not a physician but a surgeon, a more romantic and sounding occupation. He was -an intense large man with a boiling of black hair and a thick black mustache. -The newspapers often chronicled his operations; he was professor of surgery in -the State University; he went to dinner at the very best houses on Royal -Ridge; and he was said to be worth several hundred thousand dollars. It was -dismaying to Babbitt to have such a person glower at him. He hastily praised -the congressman's wit, to Sidney Finkelstein, but for Dr. Dilling's benefit. - - -III - -That afternoon three men shouldered into Babbitt's office with the air of a -Vigilante committee in frontier days. They were large, resolute, big-jawed -men, and they were all high lords in the land of Zenith--Dr. Dilling the -surgeon, Charles McKelvey the contractor, and, most dismaying of all, the -white-bearded Colonel Rutherford Snow, owner of the Advocate-Times. In their -whelming presence Babbitt felt small and insignificant. - -"Well, well, great pleasure, have chairs, what c'n I do for you?" he babbled. - -They neither sat nor offered observations on the weather. - -"Babbitt," said Colonel Snow, "we've come from the Good Citizens' League. -We've decided we want you to join. Vergil Gunch says you don't care to, but I -think we can show you a new light. The League is going to combine with the -Chamber of Commerce in a campaign for the Open Shop, so it's time for you to -put your name down." - -In his embarrassment Babbitt could not recall his reasons for not wishing to -join the League, if indeed he had ever definitely known them, but he was -passionately certain that he did not wish to join, and at the thought of their -forcing him he felt a stirring of anger against even these princes of -commerce. - -"Sorry, Colonel, have to think it over a little," he mumbled. - -McKelvey snarled, "That means you're not going to join, George?" - -Something black and unfamiliar and ferocious spoke from Babbitt: "Now, you -look here, Charley! I'm damned if I'm going to be bullied into joining -anything, not even by you plutes!" - -"We're not bullying anybody," Dr. Dilling began, but Colonel Snow thrust him -aside with, "Certainly we are! We don't mind a little bullying, if it's -necessary. Babbitt, the G.C.L. has been talking about you a good deal. You're -supposed to be a sensible, clean, responsible man; you always have been; but -here lately, for God knows what reason, I hear from all sorts of sources that -you're running around with a loose crowd, and what's a whole lot worse, you've -actually been advocating and supporting some of the most dangerous elements in -town, like this fellow Doane." - -"Colonel, that strikes me as my private business." - -"Possibly, but we want to have an understanding. You've stood in, you and -your father-in-law, with some of the most substantial and forward-looking -interests in town, like my friends of the Street Traction Company, and my -papers have given you a lot of boosts. Well, you can't expect the decent -citizens to go on aiding you if you intend to side with precisely the people -who are trying to undermine us." - -Babbitt was frightened, but he had an agonized instinct that if he yielded in -this he would yield in everything. He protested: - -"You're exaggerating, Colonel. I believe in being broad-minded and liberal, -but, of course, I'm just as much agin the cranks and blatherskites and labor -unions and so on as you are. But fact is, I belong to so many organizations -now that I can't do 'em justice, and I want to think it over before I decide -about coming into the G.C.L." - -Colonel Snow condescended, "Oh, no, I'm not exaggerating! Why the doctor here -heard you cussing out and defaming one of the finest types of Republican -congressmen, just this noon! And you have entirely the wrong idea about -'thinking over joining.' We're not begging you to join the G.C.L.--we're -permitting you to join. I'm not sure, my boy, but what if you put it off it'll -be too late. I'm not sure we'll want you then. Better think quick--better -think quick!" - -The three Vigilantes, formidable in their righteousness, stared at him in a -taut silence. Babbitt waited through. He thought nothing at all, he merely -waited, while in his echoing head buzzed, "I don't want to join--I don't want -to join--I don't want to." - -"All right. Sorry for you!" said Colonel Snow, and the three men abruptly -turned their beefy backs. - - -IV - -As Babbitt went out to his car that evening he saw Vergil Gunch coming down -the block. He raised his hand in salutation, but Gunch ignored it and crossed -the street. He was certain that Gunch had seen him. He drove home in sharp -discomfort. - -His wife attacked at once: "Georgie dear, Muriel Frink was in this afternoon, -and she says that Chum says the committee of this Good Citizens' League -especially asked you to join and you wouldn't. Don't you think it would be -better? You know all the nicest people belong, and the League stands for--" - -"I know what the League stands for! It stands for the suppression of free -speech and free thought and everything else! I don't propose to be bullied and -rushed into joining anything, and it isn't a question of whether it's a good -league or a bad league or what the hell kind of a league it is; it's just a -question of my refusing to be told I got to--" - -"But dear, if you don't join, people might criticize you." - -"Let 'em criticize!" - -"But I mean NICE people!" - -"Rats, I--Matter of fact, this whole League is just a fad. It's like all these -other organizations that start off with such a rush and let on they're going -to change the whole works, and pretty soon they peter out and everybody -forgets all about 'em!" - -"But if it's THE fad now, don't you think you--" - -"No, I don't! Oh, Myra, please quit nagging me about it. I'm sick of hearing -about the confounded G.C.L. I almost wish I'd joined it when Verg first came -around, and got it over. And maybe I'd 've come in to-day if the committee -hadn't tried to bullyrag me, but, by God, as long as I'm a free-born -independent American cit--" - -"Now, George, you're talking exactly like the German furnace-man." - -"Oh, I am, am I! Then, I won't talk at all!" - -He longed, that evening, to see Tanis Judique, to be strengthened by her -sympathy. When all the family were up-stairs he got as far as telephoning to -her apartment-house, but he was agitated about it and when the janitor -answered he blurted, "Nev' mind--I'll call later," and hung up the receiver. - - -V - -If Babbitt had not been certain about Vergil Gunch's avoiding him, there could -be little doubt about William Washington Eathorne, next morning. When Babbitt -was driving down to the office he overtook Eathorne's car, with the great -banker sitting in anemic solemnity behind his chauffeur. Babbitt waved and -cried, "Mornin'!" Eathorne looked at him deliberately, hesitated, and gave him -a nod more contemptuous than a direct cut. - -Babbitt's partner and father-in-law came in at ten: - -"George, what's this I hear about some song and dance you gave Colonel Snow -about not wanting to join the G.C.L.? What the dickens you trying to do? Wreck -the firm? You don't suppose these Big Guns will stand your bucking them and -springing all this 'liberal' poppycock you been getting off lately, do you?" - -"Oh, rats, Henry T., you been reading bum fiction. There ain't any such a -thing as these plots to keep folks from being liberal. This is a free country. -A man can do anything he wants to." - -"Course th' ain't any plots. Who said they was? Only if folks get an idea -you're scatter-brained and unstable, you don't suppose they'll want to do -business with you, do you? One little rumor about your being a crank would do -more to ruin this business than all the plots and stuff that these fool -story-writers could think up in a month of Sundays." - -That afternoon, when the old reliable Conrad Lyte, the merry miser, Conrad -Lyte, appeared, and Babbitt suggested his buying a parcel of land in the new -residential section of Dorchester, Lyte said hastily, too hastily, "No, no, -don't want to go into anything new just now." - -A week later Babbitt learned, through Henry Thompson, that the officials of -the Street Traction Company were planning another real-estate coup, and that -Sanders, Torrey and Wing, not the Babbitt-Thompson Company, were to handle it -for them. "I figure that Jake Offutt is kind of leery about the way folks are -talking about you. Of course Jake is a rock-ribbed old die-hard, and he -probably advised the Traction fellows to get some other broker. George, you -got to do something!" trembled Thompson. - -And, in a rush, Babbitt agreed. All nonsense the way people misjudged him, -but still--He determined to join the Good Citizens' League the next time he -was asked, and in furious resignation he waited. He wasn't asked. They -ignored him. He did not have the courage to go to the League and beg in, and -he took refuge in a shaky boast that he had "gotten away with bucking the -whole city. Nobody could dictate to him how he was going to think and act!" - -He was jarred as by nothing else when the paragon of stenographers, Miss -McGoun, suddenly left him, though her reasons were excellent--she needed a -rest, her sister was sick, she might not do any more work for six months. He -was uncomfortable with her successor, Miss Havstad. What Miss Havstad's given -name was, no one in the office ever knew. It seemed improbable that she had a -given name, a lover, a powder-puff, or a digestion. She was so impersonal, -this slight, pale, industrious Swede, that it was vulgar to think of her as -going to an ordinary home to eat hash. She was a perfectly oiled and enameled -machine, and she ought, each evening, to have been dusted off and shut in her -desk beside her too-slim, too-frail pencil points. She took dictation -swiftly, her typing was perfect, but Babbitt became jumpy when he tried to -work with her. She made him feel puffy, and at his best-beloved daily jokes -she looked gently inquiring. He longed for Miss McGoun's return, and thought -of writing to her. - -Then he heard that Miss McGoun had, a week after leaving him, gone over to his -dangerous competitors, Sanders, Torrey and Wing. - -He was not merely annoyed; he was frightened. "Why did she quit, then?" he -worried. "Did she have a hunch my business is going on the rocks? And it was -Sanders got the Street Traction deal. Rats--sinking ship!" - -Gray fear loomed always by him now. He watched Fritz Weilinger, the young -salesman, and wondered if he too would leave. Daily he fancied slights. He -noted that he was not asked to speak at the annual Chamber of Commerce dinner. -When Orville Jones gave a large poker party and he was not invited, he was -certain that he had been snubbed. He was afraid to go to lunch at the Athletic -Club, and afraid not to go. He believed that he was spied on; that when he -left the table they whispered about him. Everywhere he heard the rustling -whispers: in the offices of clients, in the bank when he made a deposit, in -his own office, in his own home. Interminably he wondered what They were -saying of him. All day long in imaginary conversations he caught them -marveling, "Babbitt? Why, say, he's a regular anarchist! You got to admire -the fellow for his nerve, the way he turned liberal and, by golly, just -absolutely runs his life to suit himself, but say, he's dangerous, that's what -he is, and he's got to be shown up." - -He was so twitchy that when he rounded a corner and chanced on two -acquaintances talking--whispering--his heart leaped, and he stalked by like an -embarrassed schoolboy. When he saw his neighbors Howard Littlefield and -Orville Jones together, he peered at them, went indoors to escape their -spying, and was miserably certain that they had been -whispering--plotting--whispering. - -Through all his fear ran defiance. He felt stubborn. Sometimes he decided -that he had been a very devil of a fellow, as bold as Seneca Doane; sometimes -he planned to call on Doane and tell him what a revolutionist he was, and -never got beyond the planning. But just as often, when he heard the soft -whispers enveloping him he wailed, "Good Lord, what have I done? Just played -with the Bunch, and called down Clarence Drum about being such a -high-and-mighty sodger. Never catch ME criticizing people and trying to make -them accept MY ideas!" - -He could not stand the strain. Before long he admitted that he would like to -flee back to the security of conformity, provided there was a decent and -creditable way to return. But, stubbornly, he would not be forced back; he -would not, he swore, "eat dirt." - -Only in spirited engagements with his wife did these turbulent fears rise to -the surface. She complained that he seemed nervous, that she couldn't -understand why he did not want to "drop in at the Littlefields'" for the -evening. He tried, but he could not express to her the nebulous facts of his -rebellion and punishment. And, with Paul and Tanis lost, he had no one to whom -he could talk. "Good Lord, Tinka is the only real friend I have, these days," -he sighed, and he clung to the child, played floor-games with her all evening. - -He considered going to see Paul in prison, but, though he had a pale curt note -from him every week, he thought of Paul as dead. It was Tanis for whom he was -longing. - -"I thought I was so smart and independent, cutting Tanis out, and I need her, -Lord how I need her!" he raged. "Myra simply can't understand. All she sees -in life is getting along by being just like other folks. But Tanis, she'd tell -me I was all right." - -Then he broke, and one evening, late, he did run to Tanis. He had not dared -to hope for it, but she was in, and alone. Only she wasn't Tanis. She was a -courteous, brow-lifting, ice-armored woman who looked like Tanis. She said, -"Yes, George, what is it?" in even and uninterested tones, and he crept away, -whipped. - -His first comfort was from Ted and Eunice Littlefield. - -They danced in one evening when Ted was home from the university, and Ted -chuckled, "What's this I hear from Euny, dad? She says her dad says you -raised Cain by boosting old Seneca Doane. Hot dog! Give 'em fits! Stir 'em -up! This old burg is asleep!" Eunice plumped down on Babbitt's lap, kissed -him, nestled her bobbed hair against his chin, and crowed; "I think you're -lots nicer than Howard. Why is it," confidentially, "that Howard is such an -old grouch? The man has a good heart, and honestly, he's awfully bright, but -he never will learn to step on the gas, after all the training I've given him. -Don't you think we could do something with him, dearest?" - -"Why, Eunice, that isn't a nice way to speak of your papa," Babbitt observed, -in the best Floral Heights manner, but he was happy for the first time in -weeks. He pictured himself as the veteran liberal strengthened by the loyalty -of the young generation. They went out to rifle the ice-box. Babbitt gloated, -"If your mother caught us at this, we'd certainly get our come-uppance!" and -Eunice became maternal, scrambled a terrifying number of eggs for them, kissed -Babbitt on the ear, and in the voice of a brooding abbess marveled, "It beats -the devil why feminists like me still go on nursing these men!" - -Thus stimulated, Babbitt was reckless when he encountered Sheldon Smeeth, -educational director of the Y.M.C.A. and choir-leader of the Chatham Road -Church. With one of his damp hands Smeeth imprisoned Babbitt's thick paw -while he chanted, "Brother Babbitt, we haven't seen you at church very often -lately. I know you're busy with a multitude of details, but you mustn't forget -your dear friends at the old church home." - -Babbitt shook off the affectionate clasp--Sheldy liked to hold hands for a -long time--and snarled, "Well, I guess you fellows can run the show without -me. Sorry, Smeeth; got to beat it. G'day." - -But afterward he winced, "If that white worm had the nerve to try to drag me -back to the Old Church Home, then the holy outfit must have been doing a lot -of talking about me, too." - -He heard them whispering--whispering--Dr. John Jennison Drew, Cholmondeley -Frink, even William Washington Eathorne. The independence seeped out of him -and he walked the streets alone, afraid of men's cynical eyes and the -incessant hiss of whispering. - - - -CHAPTER XXXIII - -I - -HE tried to explain to his wife, as they prepared for bed, how objectionable -was Sheldon Smeeth, but all her answer was, "He has such a beautiful voice--so -spiritual. I don't think you ought to speak of him like that just because you -can't appreciate music!" He saw her then as a stranger; he stared bleakly at -this plump and fussy woman with the broad bare arms, and wondered how she had -ever come here. - -In his chilly cot, turning from aching side to side, he pondered of Tanis. -"He'd been a fool to lose her. He had to have somebody he could really talk -to. He'd--oh, he'd BUST if he went on stewing about things by himself. And -Myra, useless to expect her to understand. Well, rats, no use dodging the -issue. Darn shame for two married people to drift apart after all these years; -darn rotten shame; but nothing could bring them together now, as long as he -refused to let Zenith bully him into taking orders--and he was by golly not -going to let anybody bully him into anything, or wheedle him or coax him -either!" - -He woke at three, roused by a passing motor, and struggled out of bed for a -drink of water. As he passed through the bedroom he heard his wife groan. His -resentment was night-blurred; he was solicitous in inquiring, "What's the -trouble, hon?" - -"I've got--such a pain down here in my side--oh, it's just--it tears at me." - -"Bad indigestion? Shall I get you some bicarb?" - -"Don't think--that would help. I felt funny last evening and yesterday, and -then--oh!--it passed away and I got to sleep and--That auto woke me up." - -Her voice was laboring like a ship in a storm. He was alarmed. - -"I better call the doctor." - -"No, no! It'll go away. But maybe you might get me an ice-bag." - -He stalked to the bathroom for the ice-bag, down to the kitchen for ice. He -felt dramatic in this late-night expedition, but as he gouged the chunk of ice -with the dagger-like pick he was cool, steady, mature; and the old -friendliness was in his voice as he patted the ice-bag into place on her -groin, rumbling, "There, there, that'll be better now." He retired to bed, but -he did not sleep. He heard her groan again. Instantly he was up, soothing -her, "Still pretty bad, honey?" - -"Yes, it just gripes me, and I can't get to sleep." - -Her voice was faint. He knew her dread of doctors' verdicts and he did not -inform her, but he creaked down-stairs, telephoned to Dr. Earl Patten, and -waited, shivering, trying with fuzzy eyes to read a magazine, till he heard -the doctor's car. - -The doctor was youngish and professionally breezy. He came in as though it -were sunny noontime. "Well, George, little trouble, eh? How is she now?" he -said busily as, with tremendous and rather irritating cheerfulness, he tossed -his coat on a chair and warmed his hands at a radiator. He took charge of the -house. Babbitt felt ousted and unimportant as he followed the doctor up to -the bedroom, and it was the doctor who chuckled, "Oh, just little -stomach-ache" when Verona peeped through her door, begging, "What is it, Dad, -what is it?" - -To Mrs. Babbitt the doctor said with amiable belligerence, after his -examination, "Kind of a bad old pain, eh? I'll give you something to make you -sleep, and I think you'll feel better in the morning. I'll come in right after -breakfast." But to Babbitt, lying in wait in the lower hall, the doctor -sighed, "I don't like the feeling there in her belly. There's some rigidity -and some inflammation. She's never had her appendix out has she? Um. Well, -no use worrying. I'll be here first thing in the morning, and meantime she'll -get some rest. I've given her a hypo. Good night." - -Then was Babbitt caught up in the black tempest. - -Instantly all the indignations which had been dominating him and the spiritual -dramas through which he had struggled became pallid and absurd before the -ancient and overwhelming realities, the standard and traditional realities, of -sickness and menacing death, the long night, and the thousand steadfast -implications of married life. He crept back to her. As she drowsed away in -the tropic languor of morphia, he sat on the edge of her bed, holding her -hand, and for the first time in many weeks her hand abode trustfully in his. - -He draped himself grotesquely in his toweling bathrobe and a pink and white -couch-cover, and sat lumpishly in a wing-chair. The bedroom was uncanny in its -half-light, which turned the curtains to lurking robbers, the dressing-table -to a turreted castle. It smelled of cosmetics, of linen, of sleep. He napped -and woke, napped and woke, a hundred times. He heard her move and sigh in -slumber; he wondered if there wasn't some officious brisk thing he could do -for her, and before he could quite form the thought he was asleep, racked and -aching. The night was infinite. When dawn came and the waiting seemed at an -end, he fell asleep, and was vexed to have been caught off his guard, to have -been aroused by Verona's entrance and her agitated "Oh, what is it, Dad?" - -His wife was awake, her face sallow and lifeless in the morning light, but now -he did not compare her with Tanis; she was not merely A Woman, to be -contrasted with other women, but his own self, and though he might criticize -her and nag her, it was only as he might criticize and nag himself, -interestedly, unpatronizingly, without the expectation of changing--or any -real desire to change--the eternal essence. - -With Verona he sounded fatherly again, and firm. He consoled Tinka, who -satisfactorily pointed the excitement of the hour by wailing. He ordered early -breakfast, and wanted to look at the newspaper, and felt somehow heroic and -useful in not looking at it. But there were still crawling and totally -unheroic hours of waiting before Dr. Patten returned. - -"Don't see much change," said Patten. "I'll be back about eleven, and if you -don't mind, I think I'll bring in some other world-famous pill-pedler for -consultation, just to be on the safe side. Now George, there's nothing you can -do. I'll have Verona keep the ice-bag filled--might as well leave that on, I -guess--and you, you better beat it to the office instead of standing around -her looking as if you were the patient. The nerve of husbands! Lot more -neurotic than the women! They always have to horn in and get all the credit -for feeling bad when their wives are ailing. Now have another nice cup of -coffee and git!" - -Under this derision Babbitt became more matter-of-fact. He drove to the -office, tried to dictate letters, tried to telephone and, before the call was -answered, forgot to whom he was telephoning. At a quarter after ten he -returned home. As he left the down-town traffic and sped up the car, his face -was as grimly creased as the mask of tragedy. - -His wife greeted him with surprise. "Why did you come back, dear? I think I -feel a little better. I told Verona to skip off to her office. Was it wicked -of me to go and get sick?" - -He knew that she wanted petting, and she got it, joyously. They were curiously -happy when he heard Dr. Patten's car in front. He looked out of the window. -He was frightened. With Patten was an impatient man with turbulent black hair -and a hussar mustache--Dr. A. I. Dilling, the surgeon. Babbitt sputtered with -anxiety, tried to conceal it, and hurried down to the door. - -Dr. Patten was profusely casual: "Don't want to worry you, old man, but I -thought it might be a good stunt to have Dr. Dilling examine her." He gestured -toward Dilling as toward a master. - -Dilling nodded in his curtest manner and strode up-stairs Babbitt tramped the -living-room in agony. Except for his wife's confinements there had never been -a major operation in the family, and to him surgery was at once a miracle and -an abomination of fear. But when Dilling and Patten came down again he knew -that everything was all right, and he wanted to laugh, for the two doctors -were exactly like the bearded physicians in a musical comedy, both of them -rubbing their hands and looking foolishly sagacious. - -Dr. Dilling spoke: - -"I'm sorry, old man, but it's acute appendicitis. We ought to operate. Of -course you must decide, but there's no question as to what has to be done." - -Babbitt did not get all the force of it. He mumbled, "Well I suppose we could -get her ready in a couple o' days. Probably Ted ought to come down from the -university, just in case anything happened." - -Dr. Dilling growled, "Nope. If you don't want peritonitis to set in, we'll -have to operate right away. I must advise it strongly. If you say go ahead, -I'll 'phone for the St. Mary's ambulance at once, and we'll have her on the -table in three-quarters of an hour." - -"I--I Of course, I suppose you know what--But great God, man, I can't get her -clothes ready and everything in two seconds, you know! And in her state, so -wrought-up and weak--" - -"Just throw her hair-brush and comb and tooth-brush in a bag; that's all -she'll need for a day or two," said Dr. Dilling, and went to the telephone. - -Babbitt galloped desperately up-stairs. He sent the frightened Tinka out of -the room. He said gaily to his wife, "Well, old thing, the doc thinks maybe -we better have a little operation and get it over. Just take a few -minutes--not half as serious as a confinement--and you'll be all right in a -jiffy." - -She gripped his hand till the fingers ached. She said patiently, like a cowed -child, "I'm afraid--to go into the dark, all alone!" Maturity was wiped from -her eyes; they were pleading and terrified. "Will you stay with me? Darling, -you don't have to go to the office now, do you? Could you just go down to the -hospital with me? Could you come see me this evening--if everything's all -right? You won't have to go out this evening, will you?" - -He was on his knees by the bed. While she feebly ruffled his hair, he sobbed, -he kissed the lawn of her sleeve, and swore, "Old honey, I love you more than -anything in the world! I've kind of been worried by business and everything, -but that's all over now, and I'm back again." - -"Are you really? George, I was thinking, lying here, maybe it would be a good -thing if I just WENT. I was wondering if anybody really needed me. Or wanted -me. I was wondering what was the use of my living. I've been getting so -stupid and ugly--" - -"Why, you old humbug! Fishing for compliments when I ought to be packing your -bag! Me, sure, I'm young and handsome and a regular village cut-up and--" He -could not go on. He sobbed again; and in muttered incoherencies they found -each other. - -As he packed, his brain was curiously clear and swift. He'd have no more wild -evenings, he realized. He admitted that he would regret them. A little grimly -he perceived that this had been his last despairing fling before the paralyzed -contentment of middle-age. Well, and he grinned impishly, "it was one doggone -good party while it lasted!" And--how much was the operation going to cost? -"I ought to have fought that out with Dilling. But no, damn it, I don't care -how much it costs!" - -The motor ambulance was at the door. Even in his grief the Babbitt who -admired all technical excellences was interested in the kindly skill with -which the attendants slid Mrs. Babbitt upon a stretcher and carried her -down-stairs. The ambulance was a huge, suave, varnished, white thing. Mrs. -Babbitt moaned, "It frightens me. It's just like a hearse, just like being -put in a hearse. I want you to stay with me." - -"I'll be right up front with the driver," Babbitt promised. - -"No, I want you to stay inside with me." To the attendants: "Can't he be -inside?" - -"Sure, ma'am, you bet. There's a fine little camp-stool in there," the older -attendant said, with professional pride. - -He sat beside her in that traveling cabin with its cot, its stool, its active -little electric radiator, and its quite unexplained calendar, displaying a -girl eating cherries, and the name of an enterprising grocer. But as he flung -out his hand in hopeless cheerfulness it touched the radiator, and he -squealed: - -"Ouch! Jesus!" - -"Why, George Babbitt, I won't have you cursing and swearing and blaspheming!" - -"I know, awful sorry but--Gosh all fish-hooks, look how I burned my hand! Gee -whiz, it hurts! It hurts like the mischief! Why, that damn radiator is hot -as--it's hot as--it's hotter 'n the hinges of Hades! Look! You can see the -mark!" - -So, as they drove up to St. Mary's Hospital, with the nurses already laying -out the instruments for an operation to save her life, it was she who consoled -him and kissed the place to make it well, and though he tried to be gruff and -mature, he yielded to her and was glad to be babied. - -The ambulance whirled under the hooded carriage-entrance of the hospital, and -instantly he was reduced to a zero in the nightmare succession of cork-floored -halls, endless doors open on old women sitting up in bed, an elevator, the -anesthetizing room, a young interne contemptuous of husbands. He was -permitted to kiss his wife; he saw a thin dark nurse fit the cone over her -mouth and nose; he stiffened at a sweet and treacherous odor; then he was -driven out, and on a high stool in a laboratory he sat dazed, longing to see -her once again, to insist that he had always loved her, had never for a second -loved anybody else or looked at anybody else. In the laboratory he was -conscious only of a decayed object preserved in a bottle of yellowing alcohol. -It made him very sick, but he could not take his eyes from it. He was more -aware of it than of waiting. His mind floated in abeyance, coming back always -to that horrible bottle. To escape it he opened the door to the right, hoping -to find a sane and business-like office. He realized that he was looking into -the operating-room; in one glance he took in Dr. Dilling, strange in white -gown and bandaged head, bending over the steel table with its screws and -wheels, then nurses holding basins and cotton sponges, and a swathed thing, -just a lifeless chin and a mound of white in the midst of which was a square -of sallow flesh with a gash a little bloody at the edges, protruding from the -gash a cluster of forceps like clinging parasites. - -He shut the door with haste. It may be that his frightened repentance of the -night and morning had not eaten in, but this dehumanizing interment of her who -had been so pathetically human shook him utterly, and as he crouched again on -the high stool in the laboratory he swore faith to his wife . . . to Zenith . -. . to business efficiency . . . to the Boosters' Club . . . to every faith of -the Clan of Good Fellows. - -Then a nurse was soothing, "All over! Perfect success! She'll come out fine! -She'll be out from under the anesthetic soon, and you can see her." - -He found her on a curious tilted bed, her face an unwholesome yellow but her -purple lips moving slightly. Then only did he really believe that she was -alive. She was muttering. He bent, and heard her sighing, "Hard get real -maple syrup for pancakes." He laughed inexhaustibly; he beamed on the nurse -and proudly confided, "Think of her talking about maple syrup! By golly, I'm -going to go and order a hundred gallons of it, right from Vermont!" - - -II - -She was out of the hospital in seventeen days. He went to see her each -afternoon, and in their long talks they drifted back to intimacy. Once he -hinted something of his relations to Tanis and the Bunch, and she was inflated -by the view that a Wicked Woman had captivated her poor George. - -If once he had doubted his neighbors and the supreme charm of the Good -Fellows, he was convinced now. You didn't, he noted, "see Seneca Doane coming -around with any flowers or dropping in to chat with the Missus," but Mrs. -Howard Littlefield brought to the hospital her priceless wine jelly (flavored -with real wine); Orville Jones spent hours in picking out the kind of novels -Mrs. Babbitt liked--nice love stories about New York millionaries and Wyoming -cowpunchers; Louetta Swanson knitted a pink bed-jacket; Sidney Finkelstein and -his merry brown-eyed flapper of a wife selected the prettiest nightgown in all -the stock of Parcher and Stein. - -All his friends ceased whispering about him, suspecting him. At the Athletic -Club they asked after her daily. Club members whose names he did not know -stopped him to inquire, "How's your good lady getting on?" Babbitt felt that -he was swinging from bleak uplands down into the rich warm air of a valley -pleasant with cottages. - -One noon Vergil Gunch suggested, "You planning to be at the hospital about -six? The wife and I thought we'd drop in." They did drop in. Gunch was so -humorous that Mrs. Babbitt said he must "stop making her laugh because -honestly it was hurting her incision." As they passed down the hall Gunch -demanded amiably, "George, old scout, you were soreheaded about something, -here a while back. I don't know why, and it's none of my business. But you -seem to be feeling all hunky-dory again, and why don't you come join us in the -Good Citizens' League, old man? We have some corking times together, and we -need your advice." - -Then did Babbitt, almost tearful with joy at being coaxed instead of bullied, -at being permitted to stop fighting, at being able to desert without injuring -his opinion of himself, cease utterly to be a domestic revolutionist. He -patted Gunch's shoulder, and next day he became a member of the Good Citizens' -League. - -Within two weeks no one in the League was more violent regarding the -wickedness of Seneca Doane, the crimes of labor unions, the perils of -immigration, and the delights of golf, morality, and bank-accounts than was -George F. Babbitt. - - - -CHAPTER XXXIV - -I - -THE Good Citizens' League had spread through the country, but nowhere was it -so effective and well esteemed as in cities of the type of Zenith, commercial -cities of a few hundred thousand inhabitants, most of which--though not -all--lay inland, against a background of cornfields and mines and of small -towns which depended upon them for mortgage-loans, table-manners, art, social -philosophy and millinery. - -To the League belonged most of the prosperous citizens of Zenith. They were -not all of the kind who called themselves "Regular Guys." Besides these -hearty fellows, these salesmen of prosperity, there were the aristocrats, that -is, the men who were richer or had been rich for more generations: the -presidents of banks and of factories, the land-owners, the corporation -lawyers, the fashionable doctors, and the few young-old men who worked not at -all but, reluctantly remaining in Zenith, collected luster-ware and first -editions as though they were back in Paris. All of them agreed that the -working-classes must be kept in their place; and all of them perceived that -American Democracy did not imply any equality of wealth, but did demand a -wholesome sameness of thought, dress, painting, morals, and vocabulary. - -In this they were like the ruling-class of any other country, particularly of -Great Britain, but they differed in being more vigorous and in actually trying -to produce the accepted standards which all classes, everywhere, desire, but -usually despair of realizing. - -The longest struggle of the Good Citizens' League was against the Open -Shop--which was secretly a struggle against all union labor. Accompanying it -was an Americanization Movement, with evening classes in English and history -and economics, and daily articles in the newspapers, so that newly arrived -foreigners might learn that the true-blue and one hundred per cent. American -way of settling labor-troubles was for workmen to trust and love their -employers. - -The League was more than generous in approving other organizations which -agreed with its aims. It helped the Y.M. C.A. to raise a -two-hundred-thousand-dollar fund for a new building. Babbitt, Vergil Gunch, -Sidney Finkelstein, and even Charles McKelvey told the spectators at movie -theaters how great an influence for manly Christianity the "good old Y." had -been in their own lives; and the hoar and mighty Colonel Rutherford Snow, -owner of the Advocate-Times, was photographed clasping the hand of Sheldon -Smeeth of the Y.M.C.A. It is true that afterward, when Smeeth lisped, "You -must come to one of our prayer-meetings," the ferocious Colonel bellowed, -"What the hell would I do that for? I've got a bar of my own," but this did -not appear in the public prints. - -The League was of value to the American Legion at a time when certain of the -lesser and looser newspapers were criticizing that organization of veterans of -the Great War. One evening a number of young men raided the Zenith Socialist -Headquarters, burned its records, beat the office staff, and agreeably dumped -desks out of the window. All of the newspapers save the Advocate-Times and the -Evening Advocate attributed this valuable but perhaps hasty direct-action to -the American Legion. Then a flying squadron from the Good Citizens' League -called on the unfair papers and explained that no ex-soldier could possibly do -such a thing, and the editors saw the light, and retained their advertising. -When Zenith's lone Conscientious Objector came home from prison and was -righteously run out of town, the newspapers referred to the perpetrators as an -"unidentified mob." - - -II - -In all the activities and triumphs of the Good Citizens' League Babbitt took -part, and completely won back to self-respect, placidity, and the affection of -his friends. But he began to protest, "Gosh, I've done my share in cleaning -up the city. I want to tend to business. Think I'll just kind of slacken up -on this G.C.L. stuff now." - -He had returned to the church as he had returned to the Boosters' Club. He -had even endured the lavish greeting which Sheldon Smeeth gave him. He was -worried lest during his late discontent he had imperiled his salvation. He was -not quite sure there was a Heaven to be attained, but Dr. John Jennison Drew -said there was, and Babbitt was not going to take a chance. - -One evening when he was walking past Dr. Drew's parsonage he impulsively went -in and found the pastor in his study. - -"Jus' minute--getting 'phone call," said Dr. Drew in businesslike tones, then, -aggressively, to the telephone: "'Lo--'lo! This Berkey and Hannis? Reverend -Drew speaking. Where the dickens is the proof for next Sunday's calendar? -Huh? Y' ought to have it here. Well, I can't help it if they're ALL sick! I -got to have it to-night. Get an A.D.T. boy and shoot it up here quick." - -He turned, without slackening his briskness. "Well, Brother Babbitt, what c'n -I do for you?" - -"I just wanted to ask--Tell you how it is, dominie: Here a while ago I guess -I got kind of slack. Took a few drinks and so on. What I wanted to ask is: -How is it if a fellow cuts that all out and comes back to his senses? Does it -sort of, well, you might say, does it score against him in the long run?" - -The Reverend Dr. Drew was suddenly interested. "And, uh, brother--the other -things, too? Women?" - -"No, practically, you might say, practically not at all." - -"Don't hesitate to tell me, brother! That's what I'm here for. Been going on -joy-rides? Squeezing girls in cars?" The reverend eyes glistened. - -"No--no--" - -"Well, I'll tell you. I've got a deputation from the Don't Make Prohibition a -Joke Association coming to see me in a quarter of an hour, and one from the -Anti-Birth-Control Union at a quarter of ten." He busily glanced at his watch. -"But I can take five minutes off and pray with you. Kneel right down by your -chair, brother. Don't be ashamed to seek the guidance of God." - -Babbitt's scalp itched and he longed to flee, but Dr. Drew had already flopped -down beside his desk-chair and his voice had changed from rasping efficiency -to an unctuous familiarity with sin and with the Almighty. Babbitt also -knelt, while Drew gloated: - -"O Lord, thou seest our brother here, who has been led astray by manifold -temptations. O Heavenly Father, make his heart to be pure, as pure as a -little child's. Oh, let him know again the joy of a manly courage to abstain -from evil--" - -Sheldon Smeeth came frolicking into the study. At the sight of the two men he -smirked, forgivingly patted Babbitt on the shoulder, and knelt beside him, his -arm about him, while he authorized Dr. Drew's imprecations with moans of "Yes, -Lord! Help our brother, Lord!" - -Though he was trying to keep his eyes closed, Babbitt squinted between his -fingers and saw the pastor glance at his watch as he concluded with a -triumphant, "And let him never be afraid to come to Us for counsel and tender -care, and let him know that the church can lead him as a little lamb." - -Dr. Drew sprang up, rolled his eyes in the general direction of Heaven, -chucked his watch into his pocket, and demanded, "Has the deputation come yet, -Sheldy?" - -"Yep, right outside," Sheldy answered, with equal liveliness; then, -caressingly, to Babbitt, "Brother, if it would help, I'd love to go into the -next room and pray with you while Dr. Drew is receiving the brothers from the -Don't Make Prohibition a Joke Association." - -"No--no thanks--can't take the time!" yelped Babbitt, rushing toward the door. - -Thereafter he was often seen at the Chatham Road Presbyterian Church, but it -is recorded that he avoided shaking hands with the pastor at the door. - - -III - -If his moral fiber had been so weakened by rebellion that he was not quite -dependable in the more rigorous campaigns of the Good Citizens' League nor -quite appreciative of the church, yet there was no doubt of the joy with which -Babbitt returned to the pleasures of his home and of the Athletic Club, the -Boosters, the Elks. - -Verona and Kenneth Escott were eventually and hesitatingly married. For the -wedding Babbitt was dressed as carefully as was Verona; he was crammed into -the morning-coat he wore to teas thrice a year; and with a certain relief, -after Verona and Kenneth had driven away in a limousine, he returned to the -house, removed the morning coat, sat with his aching feet up on the davenport, -and reflected that his wife and he could have the living-room to themselves -now, and not have to listen to Verona and Kenneth worrying, in a cultured -collegiate manner, about minimum wages and the Drama League. - -But even this sinking into peace was less consoling than his return to being -one of the best-loved men in the Boosters' Club. - - -IV - -President Willis Ijams began that Boosters' Club luncheon by standing quiet -and staring at them so unhappily that they feared he was about to announce the -death of a Brother Booster. He spoke slowly then, and gravely: - -"Boys, I have something shocking to reveal to you; something terrible about -one of our own members." - -Several Boosters, including Babbitt, looked disconcerted. - -"A knight of the grip, a trusted friend of mine, recently made a trip -up-state, and in a certain town, where a certain Booster spent his boyhood, he -found out something which can no longer be concealed. In fact, he discovered -the inward nature of a man whom we have accepted as a Real Guy and as one of -us. Gentlemen, I cannot trust my voice to say it, so I have written it down." - -He uncovered a large blackboard and on it, in huge capitals, was the legend: - -George Follansbee Babbitt--oh you Folly! - -The Boosters cheered, they laughed, they wept, they threw rolls at Babbitt, -they cried, "Speech, speech! Oh you Folly!" - -President Ijams continued: - -"That, gentlemen, is the awful thing Georgie Babbitt has been concealing all -these years, when we thought he was just plain George F. Now I want you to -tell us, taking it in turn, what you've always supposed the F. stood for." - -Flivver, they suggested, and Frog-face and Flathead and Farinaceous and -Freezone and Flapdoodle and Foghorn. By the joviality of their insults -Babbitt knew that he had been taken back to their hearts, and happily he rose. - -"Boys, I've got to admit it. I've never worn a wrist-watch, or parted my name -in the middle, but I will confess to 'Follansbee.' My only justification is -that my old dad--though otherwise he was perfectly sane, and packed an awful -wallop when it came to trimming the City Fellers at checkers--named me after -the family doc, old Dr. Ambrose Follansbee. I apologize, boys. In my next -what-d'you-call-it I'll see to it that I get named something really -practical--something that sounds swell and yet is good and virile--something, -in fact, like that grand old name so familiar to every household--that bold -and almost overpowering name, Willis Jimjams Ijams!" - -He knew by the cheer that he was secure again and popular; he knew that he -would no more endanger his security and popularity by straying from the Clan -of Good Fellows. - - -V - -Henry Thompson dashed into the office, clamoring, "George! Big news! Jake -Offutt says the Traction Bunch are dissatisfied with the way Sanders, Torrey -and Wing handled their last deal, and they're willing to dicker with us!" - -Babbitt was pleased in the realization that the last scar of his rebellion was -healed, yet as he drove home he was annoyed by such background thoughts as had -never weakened him in his days of belligerent conformity. He discovered that -he actually did not consider the Traction group quite honest. "Well, he'd -carry out one more deal for them, but as soon as it was practicable, maybe as -soon as old Henry Thompson died, he'd break away from all association from -them. He was forty-eight; in twelve years he'd be sixty; he wanted to leave a -clean business to his grandchildren. Course there was a lot of money in -negotiating for the Traction people, and a fellow had to look at things in a -practical way, only--" He wriggled uncomfortably. He wanted to tell the -Traction group what he thought of them. "Oh, he couldn't do it, not now. If -he offended them this second time, they would crush him. But--" - -He was conscious that his line of progress seemed confused. He wondered what -he would do with his future. He was still young; was he through with all -adventuring? He felt that he had been trapped into the very net from which he -had with such fury escaped and, supremest jest of all, been made to rejoice in -the trapping. - -"They've licked me; licked me to a finish!" he whimpered. - -The house was peaceful, that evening, and he enjoyed a game of pinochle with -his wife. He indignantly told the Tempter that he was content to do things in -the good old fashioned way. The day after, he went to see the purchasing-agent -of the Street Traction Company and they made plans for the secret purchase of -lots along the Evanston Road. But as he drove to his office he struggled, -"I'm going to run things and figure out things to suit myself--when I retire." - - -VI - -Ted had come down from the University for the week-end. Though he no longer -spoke of mechanical engineering and though he was reticent about his opinion -of his instructors, he seemed no more reconciled to college, and his chief -interest was his wireless telephone set. - -On Saturday evening he took Eunice Littlefield to a dance at Devon Woods. -Babbitt had a glimpse of her, bouncing in the seat of the car, brilliant in a -scarlet cloak over a frock of thinnest creamy silk. They two had not returned -when the Babbitts went to bed, at half-past eleven. At a blurred indefinite -time of late night Babbitt was awakened by the ring of the telephone and -gloomily crawled down-stairs. Howard Littlefield was speaking: - -"George, Euny isn't back yet. Is Ted?" - -"No--at least his door is open--" - -"They ought to be home. Eunice said the dance would be over at midnight. -What's the name of those people where they're going?" - -"Why, gosh, tell the truth, I don't know, Howard. It's some classmate of -Ted's, out in Devon Woods. Don't see what we can do. Wait, I'll skip up and -ask Myra if she knows their name." - -Babbitt turned on the light in Ted's room. It was a brown boyish room; -disordered dresser, worn books, a high-school pennant, photographs of -basket-ball teams and baseball teams. Ted was decidedly not there. - -Mrs. Babbitt, awakened, irritably observed that she certainly did not know the -name of Ted's host, that it was late, that Howard Littlefield was but little -better than a born fool, and that she was sleepy. But she remained awake and -worrying while Babbitt, on the sleeping-porch, struggled back into sleep -through the incessant soft rain of her remarks. It was after dawn when he was -aroused by her shaking him and calling "George! George!" in something like -horror. - -"Wha--wha--what is it?" - -"Come here quick and see. Be quiet!" - -She led him down the hall to the door of Ted's room and pushed it gently open. -On the worn brown rug he saw a froth of rose-colored chiffon lingerie; on the -sedate Morris chair a girl's silver slipper. And on the pillows were two -sleepy heads--Ted's and Eunice's. - -Ted woke to grin, and to mutter with unconvincing defiance, "Good morning! -Let me introduce my wife--Mrs. Theodore Roosevelt Eunice Littlefield Babbitt, -Esquiress." - -"Good God!" from Babbitt, and from his wife a long wailing, "You've gone -and--" - -"We got married last evening. Wife! Sit up and say a pretty good morning to -mother-in-law." - -But Eunice hid her shoulders and her charming wild hair under the pillow. - -By nine o'clock the assembly which was gathered about Ted and Eunice in the -living-room included Mr. and Mrs. George Babbitt, Dr. and Mrs. Howard -Littlefield, Mr. and Mrs. Kenneth Escott, Mr. and Mrs. Henry T. Thompson, and -Tinka Babbitt, who was the only pleased member of the inquisition. - -A crackling shower of phrases filled the room: - -"At their age--" "Ought to be annulled--" "Never heard of such a thing in--" -"Fault of both of them and--" "Keep it out of the papers--" "Ought to be -packed off to school--" "Do something about it at once, and what I say is--" -"Damn good old-fashioned spanking--" - -Worst of them all was Verona. "TED! Some way MUST be found to make you -understand how dreadfully SERIOUS this is, instead of standing AROUND with -that silly foolish SMILE on your face!" - -He began to revolt. "Gee whittakers, Rone, you got married yourself, didn't -you?" - -"That's entirely different." - -"You bet it is! They didn't have to work on Eu and me with a chain and tackle -to get us to hold hands!" - -"Now, young man, we'll have no more flippancy," old Henry Thompson ordered. -"You listen to me." - -"You listen to Grandfather!" said Verona. - -"Yes, listen to your Grandfather!" said Mrs. Babbitt. - -"Ted, you listen to Mr. Thompson!" said Howard Littlefield. - -"Oh, for the love o' Mike, I am listening!" Ted shouted. "But you look here, -all of you! I'm getting sick and tired of being the corpse in this post -mortem! If you want to kill somebody, go kill the preacher that married us! -Why, he stung me five dollars, and all the money I had in the world was six -dollars and two bits. I'm getting just about enough of being hollered at!" - -A new voice, booming, authoritative, dominated the room. It was Babbitt. -"Yuh, there's too darn many putting in their oar! Rone, you dry up. Howard -and I are still pretty strong, and able to do our own cussing. Ted, come into -the dining-room and we'll talk this over." - -In the dining-room, the door firmly closed, Babbitt walked to his son, put -both hands on his shoulders. "You're more or less right. They all talk too -much. Now what do you plan to do, old man?" - -"Gosh, dad, are you really going to be human?" - -"Well, I--Remember one time you called us 'the Babbitt men' and said we ought -to stick together? I want to. I don't pretend to think this isn't serious. -The way the cards are stacked against a young fellow to-day, I can't say I -approve of early marriages. But you couldn't have married a better girl than -Eunice; and way I figure it, Littlefield is darn lucky to get a Babbitt for a -son-in-law! But what do you plan to do? Course you could go right ahead with -the U., and when you'd finished--" - -"Dad, I can't stand it any more. Maybe it's all right for some fellows. Maybe -I'll want to go back some day. But me, I want to get into mechanics. I think -I'd get to be a good inventor. There's a fellow that would give me twenty -dollars a week in a factory right now." - -"Well--" Babbitt crossed the floor, slowly, ponderously, seeming a little old. -"I've always wanted you to have a college degree." He meditatively stamped -across the floor again. "But I've never--Now, for heaven's sake, don't repeat -this to your mother, or she'd remove what little hair I've got left, but -practically, I've never done a single thing I've wanted to in my whole life! I -don't know 's I've accomplished anything except just get along. I figure out -I've made about a quarter of an inch out of a possible hundred rods. Well, -maybe you'll carry things on further. I don't know. But I do get a kind of -sneaking pleasure out of the fact that you knew what you wanted to do and did -it. Well, those folks in there will try to bully you, and tame you down. Tell -'em to go to the devil! I'll back you. Take your factory job, if you want -to. Don't be scared of the family. No, nor all of Zenith. Nor of yourself, -the way I've been. Go ahead, old man! The world is yours!" - -Arms about each other's shoulders, the Babbitt men marched into the -living-room and faced the swooping family. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg Etext of Babbitt, by Sinclair Lewis - |