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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Seventeen, by Booth Tarkington
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Seventeen
+       A Tale Of Youth And Summer Time And The Baxter Family Especially William
+
+Author: Booth Tarkington
+
+Release Date: February 21, 2006 [EBook #1611]
+Last Updated: March 3, 2018
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SEVENTEEN ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Charles Keller and David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+SEVENTEEN
+
+
+
+A TALE OF YOUTH AND
+
+SUMMER TIME AND
+
+THE BAXTER FAMILY
+
+ESPECIALLY WILLIAM
+
+
+By Booth Tarkington
+
+
+
+
+SEVENTEEN
+
+
+
+
+TO S.K.T.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+     I.      WILLIAM
+     II.     THE UNKNOWN
+     III.    THE PAINFUL AGE
+     IV.     GENESIS AND CLEMATIS
+     V.      SORROWS WITHIN A BOILER
+     VI.     TRUCULENCE
+     VII.    MR. BAXTER'S EVENING CLOTHES
+     VIII.   JANE
+     IX.     LITTLE SISTERS HAVE BIG EARS
+     X.      MR. PARCHER AND LOVE
+     XI.     BEGINNING A TRUE FRIENDSHIP
+     XII.    PROGRESS OF THE SYMPTOMS
+     XIII.   AT HOME TO HIS FRIENDS
+     XIV.    TIME DOES FLY
+     XV.     ROMANCE OF STATISTICS
+     XVI.    THE SHOWER
+     XVII.   JANE'S THEORY
+     XVIII.  THE BIG, FAT LUMMOX
+     XIX.    “I DUNNO WHY IT IS”
+      XX.     SYDNEY CARTON
+     XXI.    MY LITTLE SWEETHEARTS
+     XXII.   FORESHADOWINGS
+     XXIII.  FATHERS FORGET
+     XXIV.   CLOTHES MAKE THE MAN
+     XXV.    YOUTH AND MR. PARCHER
+     XXVI.   MISS BOKE
+     XXVII.  MAROONED
+     XXVIII. RANNIE KIRSTED
+     XXIX.   ''DON'T FORGET!''
+     XXX.     THE BRIDE-TO-BE
+
+
+
+
+SEVENTEEN
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+WILLIAM
+
+William Sylvanus Baxter paused for a moment of thought in front of the
+drug-store at the corner of Washington Street and Central Avenue. He had
+an internal question to settle before he entered the store: he wished
+to allow the young man at the soda-fountain no excuse for saying, “Well,
+make up your mind what it's goin' to be, can't you?” Rudeness of this
+kind, especially in the presence of girls and women, was hard to bear,
+and though William Sylvanus Baxter had borne it upon occasion, he
+had reached an age when he found it intolerable. Therefore, to avoid
+offering opportunity for anything of the kind, he decided upon chocolate
+and strawberry, mixed, before approaching the fountain. Once there,
+however, and a large glass of these flavors and diluted ice-cream
+proving merely provocative, he said, languidly--an affectation, for he
+could have disposed of half a dozen with gusto: “Well, now I'm here, I
+might as well go one more. Fill 'er up again. Same.”
+
+Emerging to the street, penniless, he bent a fascinated and dramatic
+gaze upon his reflection in the drug-store window, and then, as he
+turned his back upon the alluring image, his expression altered to
+one of lofty and uncondescending amusement. That was his glance at the
+passing public. From the heights, he seemed to bestow upon the world
+a mysterious derision--for William Sylvanus Baxter was seventeen long
+years of age, and had learned to present the appearance of one who
+possesses inside information about life and knows all strangers and most
+acquaintances to be of inferior caste, costume, and intelligence.
+
+He lingered upon the corner awhile, not pressed for time. Indeed, he
+found many hours of these summer months heavy upon his hands, for he had
+no important occupation, unless some intermittent dalliance with a
+work on geometry (anticipatory of the distant autumn) might be thought
+important, which is doubtful, since he usually went to sleep on the
+shady side porch at his home, with the book in his hand. So, having
+nothing to call him elsewhere, he lounged before the drug-store in the
+early afternoon sunshine, watching the passing to and fro of the lower
+orders and bourgeoisie of the middle-sized midland city which claimed
+him (so to speak) for a native son.
+
+Apparently quite unembarrassed by his presence, they went about their
+business, and the only people who looked at him with any attention were
+pedestrians of color. It is true that when the gaze of these fell upon
+him it was instantly arrested, for no colored person could have passed
+him without a little pang of pleasure and of longing. Indeed, the
+tropical violence of William Sylvanus Baxter's tie and the strange
+brilliancy of his hat might have made it positively unsafe for him to
+walk at night through the negro quarter of the town. And though no man
+could have sworn to the color of that hat, whether it was blue or green,
+yet its color was a saner thing than its shape, which was blurred,
+tortured, and raffish; it might have been the miniature model of a
+volcano that had blown off its cone and misbehaved disastrously on its
+lower slopes as well. He had the air of wearing it as a matter of course
+and with careless ease, but that was only an air--it was the apple of
+his eye.
+
+For the rest, his costume was neutral, subordinate, and even a little
+neglected in the matter of a detail or two: one pointed flap of his soft
+collar was held down by a button, but the other showed a frayed thread
+where the button once had been; his low patent-leather shoes were of a
+luster not solicitously cherished, and there could be no doubt that he
+needed to get his hair cut, while something might have been done, too,
+about the individualized hirsute prophecies which had made independent
+appearances, here and there, upon his chin. He examined these from time
+to time by the sense of touch, passing his hand across his face and
+allowing his finger-tips a slight tapping motion wherever they detected
+a prophecy.
+
+Thus he fell into a pleasant musing and seemed to forget the crowded
+street.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+THE UNKNOWN
+
+He was roused by the bluff greeting of an acquaintance not dissimilar to
+himself in age, manner, and apparel.
+
+“H'lo, Silly Bill!” said this person, halting beside William Sylvanus
+Baxter. “What's the news?”
+
+William showed no enthusiasm; on the contrary, a frown of annoyance
+appeared upon his brow. The nickname “Silly Bill”--long ago compounded
+by merry child-comrades from “William” and “Sylvanus”--was not to his
+taste, especially in public, where he preferred to be addressed simply
+and manfully as “Baxter.” Any direct expression of resentment, however,
+was difficult, since it was plain that Johnnie Watson intended no
+offense whatever and but spoke out of custom.
+
+“Don't know any,” William replied, coldly.
+
+“Dull times, ain't it?” said Mr. Watson, a little depressed by his
+friend's manner. “I heard May Parcher was comin' back to town yesterday,
+though.”
+
+“Well, let her!” returned William, still severe.
+
+“They said she was goin' to bring a girl to visit her,” Johnnie began in
+a confidential tone. “They said she was a reg'lar ringdinger and--”
+
+“Well, what if she is?” the discouraging Mr. Baxter interrupted. “Makes
+little difference to ME, I guess!”
+
+“Oh no, it don't. YOU don't take any interest in girls! OH no!”
+
+“No, I do not!” was the emphatic and heartless retort. “I never saw one
+in my life I'd care whether she lived or died!”
+
+“Honest?” asked Johnnie, struck by the conviction with which this speech
+was uttered. “Honest, is that so?”
+
+“Yes, 'honest'!” William replied, sharply. “They could ALL die, _I_
+wouldn't notice!”
+
+Johnnie Watson was profoundly impressed. “Why, _I_ didn't know you felt
+that way about 'em, Silly Bill. I always thought you were kind of--”
+
+“Well, I do feel that way about 'em!” said William Sylvanus Baxter, and,
+outraged by the repetition of the offensive nickname, he began to move
+away. “You can tell 'em so for me, if you want to!” he added over his
+shoulder. And he walked haughtily up the street, leaving Mr. Watson to
+ponder upon this case of misogyny, never until that moment suspected.
+
+It was beyond the power of his mind to grasp the fact that William
+Sylvanus Baxter's cruel words about “girls” had been uttered because
+William was annoyed at being called “Silly Bill” in a public place, and
+had not known how to object otherwise than by showing contempt for any
+topic of conversation proposed by the offender. This latter, being of
+a disposition to accept statements as facts, was warmly interested,
+instead of being hurt, and decided that here was something worth talking
+about, especially with representatives of the class so sweepingly
+excluded from the sympathies of Silly Bill.
+
+William, meanwhile, made his way toward the “residence section” of the
+town, and presently--with the passage of time found himself eased of his
+annoyance. He walked in his own manner, using his shoulders to emphasize
+an effect of carelessness which he wished to produce upon observers. For
+his consciousness of observers was abnormal, since he had it whether any
+one was looking at him or not, and it reached a crucial stage whenever
+he perceived persons of his own age, but of opposite sex, approaching.
+
+A person of this description was encountered upon the sidewalk within a
+hundred yards of his own home, and William Sylvanus Baxter saw her while
+yet she was afar off. The quiet and shady thoroughfare was empty of all
+human life, at the time, save for those two; and she was upon the same
+side of the street that he was; thus it became inevitable that they
+should meet, face to face, for the first time in their lives. He
+had perceived, even in the distance, that she was unknown to him, a
+stranger, because he knew all the girls in this part of the town who
+dressed as famously in the mode as that! And then, as the distance
+between them lessened, he saw that she was ravishingly pretty; far, far
+prettier, indeed, than any girl he knew. At least it seemed so, for it
+is, unfortunately, much easier for strangers to be beautiful. Aside
+from this advantage of mystery, the approaching vision was piquant and
+graceful enough to have reminded a much older boy of a spotless white
+kitten, for, in spite of a charmingly managed demureness, there was
+precisely that kind of playfulness somewhere expressed about her. Just
+now it was most definite in the look she bent upon the light and fluffy
+burden which she carried nestled in the inner curve of her right arm:
+a tiny dog with hair like cotton and a pink ribbon round his neck--an
+animal sated with indulgence and idiotically unaware of his privilege.
+He was half asleep!
+
+William did not see the dog, or it is the plain, anatomical truth
+that when he saw how pretty the girl was, his heart--his physical
+heart--began to do things the like of which, experienced by an elderly
+person, would have brought the doctor in haste. In addition, his
+complexion altered--he broke out in fiery patches. He suffered from
+breathlessness and from pressure on the diaphragm.
+
+Afterward, he could not have named the color of the little parasol she
+carried in her left hand, and yet, as it drew nearer and nearer, a rosy
+haze suffused the neighborhood, and the whole world began to turn an
+exquisite pink. Beneath this gentle glow, with eyes downcast in thought,
+she apparently took no note of William, even when she and William had
+come within a few yards of each other. Yet he knew that she would look
+up and that their eyes must meet--a thing for which he endeavored to
+prepare himself by a strange weaving motion of his neck against the
+friction of his collar--for thus, instinctively, he strove to obtain
+greater ease and some decent appearance of manly indifference. He felt
+that his efforts were a failure; that his agitation was ruinous and
+must be perceptible at a distance of miles, not feet. And then, in
+the instant of panic that befell, when her dark-lashed eyelids slowly
+lifted, he had a flash of inspiration.
+
+He opened his mouth somewhat, and as her eyes met his, full and
+startlingly, he placed three fingers across the orifice, and also
+offered a slight vocal proof that she had surprised him in the midst of
+a yawn.
+
+“Oh, hum!” he said.
+
+For the fraction of a second, the deep blue spark in her eyes glowed
+brighter--gentle arrows of turquoise shot him through and through--and
+then her glance withdrew from the ineffable collision. Her small,
+white-shod feet continued to bear her onward, away from him, while
+his own dimmed shoes peregrinated in the opposite direction--William
+necessarily, yet with excruciating reluctance, accompanying them. But
+just at the moment when he and the lovely creature were side by side,
+and her head turned from him, she spoke that is, she murmured, but he
+caught the words.
+
+“You Flopit, wake up!” she said, in the tone of a mother talking
+baby-talk. “SO indifferink!”
+
+William's feet and his breath halted spasmodically. For an instant he
+thought she had spoken to him, and then for the first time he perceived
+the fluffy head of the dog bobbing languidly over her arm, with the
+motion of her walking, and he comprehended that Flopit, and not William
+Sylvanus Baxter, was the gentleman addressed. But--but had she MEANT
+him?
+
+His breath returning, though not yet operating in its usual manner,
+he stood gazing after her, while the glamorous parasol passed down the
+shady street, catching splashes of sunshine through the branches of
+the maple-trees; and the cottony head of the tiny dog continued to be
+visible, bobbing rhythmically over a filmy sleeve. Had she meant that
+William was indifferent? Was it William that she really addressed?
+
+He took two steps to follow her, but a suffocating shyness stopped him
+abruptly and, in a horror lest she should glance round and detect him
+in the act, he turned and strode fiercely to the gate of his own home
+before he dared to look again. And when he did look, affecting great
+casualness in the action, she was gone, evidently having turned the
+corner. Yet the street did not seem quite empty; there was still
+something warm and fragrant about it, and a rosy glamor lingered in
+the air. William rested an elbow upon the gate-post, and with his chin
+reposing in his hand gazed long in the direction in which the unknown
+had vanished. And his soul was tremulous, for she had done her work but
+too well.
+
+“'Indifferink'!” he murmured, thrilling at his own exceedingly
+indifferent imitation of her voice. “Indifferink!” that was just what he
+would have her think--that he was a cold, indifferent man. It was what
+he wished all girls to think. And “sarcastic”! He had been envious one
+day when May Parcher said that Joe Bullitt was “awfully sarcastic.”
+ William had spent the ensuing hour in an object-lesson intended to make
+Miss Parcher see that William Sylvanus Baxter was twice as sarcastic
+as Joe Bullitt ever thought of being, but this great effort had been
+unsuccessful, because William, failed to understand that Miss Parcher
+had only been sending a sort of message to Mr. Bullitt. It was a device
+not unique among her sex; her hope was that William would repeat her
+remark in such a manner that Joe Bullitt would hear it and call to
+inquire what she meant.
+
+“'SO indifferink'!” murmured William, leaning dreamily upon the
+gate-post. “Indifferink!” He tried to get the exact cooing quality of
+the unknown's voice. “Indifferink!” And, repeating the honeyed word, so
+entrancingly distorted, he fell into a kind of stupor; vague, beautiful
+pictures rising before him, the one least blurred being of himself, on
+horseback, sweeping between Flopit and a racing automobile. And
+then, having restored the little animal to its mistress, William
+sat carelessly in the saddle (he had the Guardsman's seat) while the
+perfectly trained steed wheeled about, forelegs in the air, preparing
+to go. “But shall I not see you again, to thank you more properly?” she
+cried, pleading. “Some other day--perhaps,” he answered.
+
+And left her in a cloud of dust.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+THE PAINFUL AGE
+
+“OH WILL--EE!”
+
+Thus a shrill voice, to his ears hideously different from that other,
+interrupted and dispersed his visions. Little Jane, his ten-year-old
+sister, stood upon the front porch, the door open behind her, and in her
+hand she held a large slab of bread-and-butter covered with apple sauce
+and powdered sugar. Evidence that she had sampled this compound was upon
+her cheeks, and to her brother she was a repulsive sight.
+
+“Will-ee!” she shrilled. “Look! GOOD!” And to emphasize the adjective
+she indelicately patted the region of her body in which she believed
+her stomach to be located. “There's a slice for you on the dining-room
+table,” she informed him, joyously.
+
+Outraged, he entered the house without a word to her, and, proceeding
+to the dining-room, laid hands upon the slice she had mentioned, but
+declined to eat it in Jane's company. He was in an exalted mood, and
+though in no condition of mind or body would he refuse food of almost
+any kind, Jane was an intrusion he could not suffer at this time.
+
+He carried the refection to his own room and, locking the door, sat down
+to eat, while, even as he ate, the spell that was upon him deepened in
+intensity.
+
+“Oh, eyes!” he whispered, softly, in that cool privacy and shelter from
+the world. “Oh, eyes of blue!”
+
+The mirror of a dressing-table sent him the reflection of his own eyes,
+which also were blue; and he gazed upon them and upon the rest of his
+image the while he ate his bread-and-butter and apple sauce and sugar.
+Thus, watching himself eat, he continued to stare dreamily at the mirror
+until the bread-and-butter and apple sauce and sugar had disappeared,
+whereupon he rose and approached the dressing-table to study himself at
+greater advantage.
+
+He assumed as repulsive an expression as he could command, at the same
+time making the kingly gesture of one who repels unwelcome attentions;
+and it is beyond doubt that he was thus acting a little scene of
+indifference. Other symbolic dramas followed, though an invisible
+observer might have been puzzled for a key to some of them. One,
+however, would have proved easily intelligible: his expression having
+altered to a look of pity and contrition, he turned from the mirror,
+and, walking slowly to a chair across the room, used his right hand in
+a peculiar manner, seeming to stroke the air at a point about ten inches
+above the back of the chair. “There, there, little girl,” he said in a
+low, gentle voice. “I didn't know you cared!”
+
+Then, with a rather abrupt dismissal of this theme, he returned to the
+mirror and, after a questioning scrutiny, nodded solemnly, forming with
+his lips the words, “The real thing--the real thing at last!” He
+meant that, after many imitations had imposed upon him, Love--the real
+thing--had come to him in the end. And as he turned away he murmured,
+“And even her name--unknown!”
+
+This evidently was a thought that continued to occupy him, for he walked
+up and down the room, frowning; but suddenly his brow cleared and his
+eye lit with purpose. Seating himself at a small writing-table by
+the window, he proceeded to express his personality--though with
+considerable labor--in something which he did not doubt to be a poem.
+
+Three-quarters of an hour having sufficed for its completion, including
+“rewriting and polish,” he solemnly signed it, and then read it several
+times in a state of hushed astonishment. He had never dreamed that he
+could do anything like this.
+
+                    MILADY
+          I do not know her name
+          Though it would be the same
+          Where roses bloom at twilight
+          And the lark takes his flight
+          It would be the same anywhere
+          Where music sounds in air
+          I was never introduced to the lady
+          So I could not call her Lass or Sadie
+          So I will call her Milady
+          By the sands of the sea
+          She always will be
+          Just M'lady to me.
+                         --WILLIAM SYLVANUS BAXTER, Esq., July 14
+
+It is impossible to say how many times he might have read the poem over,
+always with increasing amazement at his new-found powers, had he not
+been interrupted by the odious voice of Jane.
+
+“Will--ee!”
+
+To William, in his high and lonely mood, this piercing summons brought
+an actual shudder, and the very thought of Jane (with tokens of apple
+sauce and sugar still upon her cheek, probably) seemed a kind of
+sacrilege. He fiercely swore his favorite oath, acquired from the hero
+of a work of fiction he admired, “Ye gods!” and concealed his poem in
+the drawer of the writing-table, for Jane's footsteps were approaching
+his door.
+
+“Will--ee! Mamma wants you.” She tried the handle of the door.
+
+“G'way!” he said.
+
+“Will--ee!” Jane hammered upon the door with her fist. “Will--ee!”
+
+“What you want?” he shouted.
+
+Jane explained, certain pauses indicating that her attention was
+partially diverted to another slice of bread-and-butter and apple sauce
+and sugar. “Will--ee, mamma wants you--wants you to go help Genesis
+bring some wash-tubs home and a tin clo'es-boiler--from the second-hand
+man's store.”
+
+“WHAT!”
+
+Jane repeated the outrageous message, adding, “She wants you to
+hurry--and I got some more bread-and-butter and apple sauce and sugar
+for comin' to tell you.”
+
+William left no doubt in Jane's mind about his attitude in reference
+to the whole matter. His refusal was direct and infuriated, but, in the
+midst of a multitude of plain statements which he was making, there
+was a decisive tapping upon the door at a point higher than Jane could
+reach, and his mother's voice interrupted:
+
+“Hush, Willie! Open the door, please.”
+
+He obeyed furiously, and Mrs. Baxter walked in with a deprecating air,
+while Jane followed, so profoundly interested that, until almost the
+close of the interview, she held her bread-and-butter and apple sauce
+and sugar at a sort of way-station on its journey to her mouth.
+
+“That's a nice thing to ask me to do!” stormed the unfortunate William.
+“Ye gods! Do you think Joe Bullitt's mother would dare to--”
+
+“Wait, dearie!” Mrs. Baxter begged, pacifically. “I just want to
+explain--”
+
+“'Explain'! Ye gods!”
+
+“Now, now, just a minute, Willie!” she said. “What I wanted to explain
+was why it's necessary for you to go with Genesis for the--”
+
+“Never!” he shouted. “Never! You expect me to walk through the public
+streets with that awful-lookin' old nigger--”
+
+“Genesis isn't old,” she managed to interpolate. “He--”
+
+But her frantic son disregarded her. “Second-hand wash-tubs!” he
+vociferated. “And tin clothes-boilers! THAT'S what you want your SON to
+carry through the public streets in broad daylight! Ye gods!”
+
+“Well, there isn't anybody else,” she said. “Please don't rave so,
+Willie, and say 'Ye gods' so much; it really isn't nice. I'm sure nobody
+'ll notice you--”
+
+“'Nobody'!” His voice cracked in anguish. “Oh no! Nobody except the
+whole town! WHY, when there's anything disgusting has to be done
+in this family--why do _I_ always have to be the one? Why can't Genesis
+bring the second-hand wash-tubs without ME? Why can't the second-hand
+store deliver 'em? Why can't--”
+
+“That's what I want to tell you,” she interposed, hurriedly, and as the
+youth lifted his arms on high in a gesture of ultimate despair, and
+then threw himself miserably into a chair, she obtained the floor. “The
+second-hand store doesn't deliver things,” she said. “I bought them at
+an auction, and it's going out of business, and they have to be taken
+away before half past four this afternoon. Genesis can't bring them in
+the wheelbarrow, because, he says, the wheel is broken, and he says he
+can't possibly carry two tubs and a wash-boiler himself; and he can't
+make two trips because it's a mile and a half, and I don't like to ask
+him, anyway; and it would take too long, because he has to get back and
+finish cutting the grass before your papa gets home this evening. Papa
+said he HAD to! Now, I don't like to ask you, but it really isn't much.
+You and Genesis can just slip up there and--”
+
+“Slip!” moaned William. “'Just SLIP up there'! Ye gods!”
+
+“Genesis is waiting on the back porch,” she said. “Really it isn't worth
+your making all this fuss about.”
+
+“Oh no!” he returned, with plaintive satire. “It's nothing! Nothing at
+all!”
+
+“Why, _I_ shouldn't mind it,” she said; briskly, “if I had the time. In
+fact, I'll have to, if you won't.”
+
+“Ye gods!” He clasped his head in his hands, crushed, for he knew that
+the curse was upon him and he must go. “Ye gods!”
+
+And then, as he stamped to the door, his tragic eye fell upon Jane, and
+he emitted a final cry of pain:
+
+“Can't you EVER wash your face?” he shouted.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+GENESIS AND CLEMATIS
+
+Genesis and his dog were waiting just outside the kitchen door, and
+of all the world these two creatures were probably the last in whose
+company William Sylvanus Baxter desired to make a public appearance.
+Genesis was an out-of-doors man and seldom made much of a toilet; his
+overalls in particular betraying at important points a lack of the
+anxiety he should have felt, since only Genesis himself, instead of
+a supplementary fabric, was directly underneath them. And the aged,
+grayish, sleeveless and neckless garment which sheltered him from waist
+to collar-bone could not have been mistaken for a jersey, even though
+what there was of it was dimly of a jerseyesque character. Upon the feet
+of Genesis were things which careful study would have revealed to be
+patent-leather dancing-pumps, long dead and several times buried;
+and upon his head, pressing down his markedly criminal ears, was a
+once-derby hat of a brown not far from Genesis's own color, though
+decidedly without his gloss. A large ring of strange metals with the
+stone missing, adorned a finger of his right hand, and from a corner of
+his mouth projected an unlighted and spreading cigar stub which had the
+appearance of belonging to its present owner merely by right of salvage.
+
+And Genesis's dog, scratching himself at his master's feet, was the true
+complement of Genesis, for although he was a youngish dog, and had not
+long been the property of Genesis, he was a dog that would have been
+recognized anywhere in the world as a colored person's dog. He was not a
+special breed of dog--though there was something rather houndlike about
+him--he was just a dog. His expression was grateful but anxious, and he
+was unusually bald upon the bosom, but otherwise whitish and brownish,
+with a gaunt, haunting face and no power to look anybody in the eye.
+
+He rose apprehensively as the fuming William came out of the kitchen,
+but he was prepared to follow his master faithfully, and when William
+and Genesis reached the street the dog was discovered at their heels,
+whereupon William came to a decisive halt.
+
+“Send that dog back,” he said, resolutely. “I'm not going through the
+streets with a dog like that, anyhow!”
+
+Genesis chuckled. “He ain' goin' back,” he said. “'Ain' nobody kin
+make 'at dog go back. I 'ain' had him mo'n two weeks, but I don' b'lieve
+Pres'dent United States kin make 'at dog go back! I show you.” And,
+wheeling suddenly, he made ferocious gestures, shouting. “G'on back,
+dog!”
+
+The dog turned, ran back a few paces, halted, and then began to follow
+again, whereupon Genesis pretended to hurl stones at him; but the animal
+only repeated his manoeuver--and he repeated it once more when William
+aided Genesis by using actual missiles, which were dodged with almost
+careless adeptness.
+
+“I'll show him!” said William, hotly. “I'll show him he can't follow
+ME!” He charged upon the dog, shouting fiercely, and this seemed to do
+the work, for the hunted animal, abandoning his partial flights, turned
+a tucked-under tail, ran all the way back to the alley, and disappeared
+from sight. “There!” said William. “I guess that 'll show him!”
+
+“I ain' bettin' on it!” said Genesis, as they went on. “He nev' did
+stop foll'in' me yet. I reckon he the foll'indest dog in the worl'! Name
+Clem.”
+
+“Well, he can't follow ME!” said the surging William, in whose mind's
+eye lingered the vision of an exquisite doglet, with pink-ribboned
+throat and a cottony head bobbing gently over a filmy sleeve. “He
+doesn't come within a mile of ME, no matter what his name is!”
+
+“Name Clem fer short,” said Genesis, amiably. “I trade in a mandoline
+fer him what had her neck kind o' busted off on one side. I couldn' play
+her nohow, an' I found her, anyways. Yes-suh, I trade in 'at mandoline
+fer him 'cause always did like to have me a good dog--but I d'in' have
+me no name fer him; an' this here Blooie Bowers, what I trade in the
+mandoline to, he say HE d'in have no name fer him. Say nev' did know if
+WAS a name fer him 'tall. So I'z spen' the evenin' at 'at lady's house,
+Fanny, what used to be cook fer Miz Johnson, nex' do' you' maw's; an'
+I ast Fanny what am I go'n' a do about it, an' Fanny say, 'Call him
+Clematis,' she say. ''At's a nice name!' she say. 'Clematis.' So 'at's
+name I name him, Clematis. Call him Clem fer short, but Clematis his
+real name. He'll come, whichever one you call him, Clem or Clematis.
+Make no diff'ence to him, long's he git his vittles. Clem or Clematis,
+HE ain' carin'!”
+
+William's ear was deaf to this account of the naming of Clematis; he
+walked haughtily, but as rapidly as possible, trying to keep a little in
+advance of his talkative companion, who had never received the training
+as a servitor which should have taught him his proper distance from the
+Young Master. William's suffering eyes were fixed upon remoteness; and
+his lips moved, now and then, like a martyr's, pronouncing inaudibly a
+sacred word. “Milady! Oh, Milady!”
+
+Thus they had covered some three blocks of their journey--the
+too-democratic Genesis chatting companionably and William burning with
+mortification--when the former broke into loud laughter.
+
+“What I tell you?” he cried, pointing ahead. “Look ayonnuh! NO, suh,
+Pres'dent United States hisse'f ain' go tell 'at dog stay home!”
+
+And there, at the corner before them, waited Clematis, roguishly lying
+in a mud-puddle in the gutter. He had run through alleys parallel to
+their course--and in the face of such demoniac cunning the wretched
+William despaired of evading his society. Indeed, there was nothing to
+do but to give up, and so the trio proceeded, with William unable to
+decide which contaminated him more, Genesis or the loyal Clematis. To
+his way of thinking, he was part of a dreadful pageant, and he winced
+pitiably whenever the eye of a respectable passer-by fell upon him.
+Everybody seemed to stare--nay, to leer! And he felt that the whole
+world would know his shame by nightfall.
+
+Nobody, he reflected, seeing him in such company, could believe that he
+belonged to “one of the oldest and best families in town.” Nobody would
+understand that he was not walking with Genesis for the pleasure of his
+companionship--until they got the tubs and the wash-boiler, when his
+social condition must be thought even more degraded. And nobody, he was
+shudderingly positive, could see that Clematis was not his dog (Clematis
+kept himself humbly a little in the rear, but how was any observer to
+know that he belonged to Genesis and not to William?)
+
+And how frightful that THIS should befall him on such a day, the very
+day that his soul had been split asunder by the turquoise shafts of
+Milady's eyes and he had learned to know the Real Thing at last!
+
+“Milady! Oh, Milady!”
+
+For in the elder teens adolescence may be completed, but not by
+experience, and these years know their own tragedies. It is the time of
+life when one finds it unendurable not to seem perfect in all outward
+matters: in worldly position, in the equipments of wealth, in family,
+and in the grace, elegance, and dignity of all appearances in
+public. And yet the youth is continually betrayed by the child still
+intermittently insistent within him, and by the child which undiplomatic
+people too often assume him to be. Thus with William's attire: he could
+ill have borne any suggestion that it was not of the mode, but taking
+care of it was a different matter. Also, when it came to his appetite,
+he could and would eat anything at any time, but something younger than
+his years led him--often in semi-secrecy--to candy-stores and soda-water
+fountains and ice-cream parlors; he still relished green apples and knew
+cravings for other dangerous inedibles. But these survivals were far
+from painful to him; what injured his sensibilities was the disposition
+on the part of people especially his parents, and frequently his aunts
+and uncles--to regard him as a little boy. Briefly, the deference his
+soul demanded in its own right, not from strangers only, but from
+his family, was about that which is supposed to be shown a Grand Duke
+visiting his Estates. Therefore William suffered often.
+
+But the full ignominy of the task his own mother had set him this
+afternoon was not realized until he and Genesis set forth upon the
+return journey from the second-hand shop, bearing the two wash-tubs, a
+clothes-wringer (which Mrs. Baxter had forgotten to mention), and the
+tin boiler--and followed by the lowly Clematis.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+SORROWS WITHIN A BOILER
+
+There was something really pageant-like about the little excursion now,
+and the glittering clothes-boiler, borne on high, sent flashing lights
+far down the street. The wash-tubs were old-fashioned, of wood; they
+refused to fit one within the other; so William, with his right hand,
+and Genesis, with his left, carried one of the tubs between them;
+Genesis carried the heavy wringer with his right hand, and he had
+fastened the other tub upon his back by means of a bit of rope which
+passed over his shoulder; thus the tin boiler, being a lighter burden,
+fell to William.
+
+The cover would not stay in place, but continually fell off when he
+essayed to carry the boiler by one of its handles, and he made shift
+to manage the accursed thing in various ways--the only one proving
+physically endurable being, unfortunately, the most grotesque. He
+was forced to carry the cover in his left hand and to place his head
+partially within the boiler itself, and to support it--tilted obliquely
+to rest upon his shoulders--as a kind of monstrous tin cowl or helmet.
+This had the advantage of somewhat concealing his face, though when
+he leaned his head back, in order to obtain clearer vision of what was
+before him, the boiler slid off and fell to the pavement with a noise
+that nearly caused a runaway, and brought the hot-cheeked William much
+derisory attention from a passing street-car. However, he presently
+caught the knack of keeping it in position, and it fell no more.
+
+Seen from the rear, William was unrecognizable--but interesting.
+He appeared to be a walking clothes-boiler, armed with a shield and
+connected, by means of a wash-tub, with a negro of informal ideas
+concerning dress. In fact, the group was whimsical, and three young
+people who turned in behind it, out of a cross-street, indulged
+immediately in fits of inadequately suppressed laughter, though neither
+Miss May Parcher nor Mr. Johnnie Watson even remotely suspected that the
+legs beneath the clothes-boiler belonged to an acquaintance. And as
+for the third of this little party, Miss Parcher's visitor, those
+peregrinating legs suggested nothing familiar to her.
+
+“Oh, see the fun-ee laundrymans!” she cried, addressing a cottony
+doglet's head that bobbed gently up and down over her supporting arm.
+“Sweetest Flopit must see, too! Flopit, look at the fun-ee laundrymans!”
+
+“'Sh!” murmured Miss Parcher, choking. “He might hear you.”
+
+He might, indeed, since they were not five yards behind him and the
+dulcet voice was clear and free. Within the shadowy interior of the
+clothes-boiler were features stricken with sudden, utter horror.
+“FLOPIT!”
+
+The attention of Genesis was attracted by a convulsive tugging of the
+tub which he supported in common with William; it seemed passionately to
+urge greater speed. A hissing issued from the boiler, and Genesis caught
+the words, huskily whispered:
+
+“Walk faster! You got to walk faster.”
+
+The tub between them tugged forward with a pathos of appeal wasted upon
+the easy-going Genesis.
+
+“I got plenty time cut 'at grass befo' you' pa gits home,” he said,
+reassuringly. “Thishere rope what I got my extry tub slung to is 'mos'
+wo' plum thew my hide.”
+
+Having uttered this protest, he continued to ambulate at the same pace,
+though somewhat assisted by the forward pull of the connecting tub, an
+easance of burden which he found pleasant; and no supplementary message
+came from the clothes-boiler, for the reason that it was incapable
+of further speech. And so the two groups maintained for a time their
+relative positions, about fifteen feet apart.
+
+The amusement of the second group having abated through satiety, the
+minds of its components turned to other topics. “Now Flopit must have
+his darlin' 'ickle run,” said Flopit's mistress, setting the doglet upon
+the ground. “That's why sweetest Flopit and I and all of us came for a
+walk, instead of sitting on the nice, cool porch-kins. SEE the sweetie
+toddle! Isn't he adorable, May? ISN'T he adorable, Mr. Watson?”
+
+Mr. Watson put a useless sin upon his soul, since all he needed to say
+was a mere “Yes.” He fluently avowed himself to have become insane over
+the beauty of Flopit.
+
+Flopit, placed upon the ground, looked like something that had dropped
+from a Christmas tree, and he automatically made use of fuzzy legs,
+somewhat longer than a caterpillar's, to patter after his mistress. He
+was neither enterprising nor inquisitive; he kept close to the rim of
+her skirt, which was as high as he could see, and he wished to be taken
+up and carried again. He was in a half-stupor; it was his desire
+to remain in that condition, and his propulsion was almost wholly
+subconscious, though surprisingly rapid, considering his dimensions.
+
+“My goo'ness!” exclaimed Genesis, glancing back over his shoulder. “'At
+li'l' thing ack like he think he go'n a GIT somewheres!” And then, in
+answer to a frantic pull upon the tub, “Look like you mighty strong
+t'day,” he said. “I cain' go no fastuh!” He glanced back again,
+chuckling. “'At li'l' bird do well not mix up nothin' 'ith ole man
+Clematis!”
+
+Clematis, it happened, was just coming into view, having been detained
+round the corner by his curiosity concerning a set of Louis XVI.
+furniture which some house-movers were unpacking upon the sidewalk. A
+curl of excelsior, in fact, had attached itself to his nether lip,
+and he was pausing to remove it--when his roving eye fell upon Flopit.
+Clematis immediately decided to let the excelsior remain where it was,
+lest he miss something really important.
+
+He approached with glowing eagerness at a gallop.
+
+Then, having almost reached his goal, he checked himself with surprising
+abruptness and walked obliquely beside Flopit, but upon a parallel
+course, his manner agitated and his brow furrowed with perplexity.
+Flopit was about the size of Clematis's head, and although Clematis was
+certain that Flopit was something alive, he could not decide what.
+
+Flopit paid not the slightest attention to Clematis. The self-importance
+of dogs, like that of the minds of men, is in directly inverse ratio to
+their size; and if the self-importance of Flopit could have been taken
+out of him and given to an elephant, that elephant would have been
+insufferable.
+
+Flopit continued to pay no attention to Clematis.
+
+All at once, a roguish and irresponsible mood seized upon Clematis; he
+laid his nose upon the ground, deliberating a bit of gaiety, and then,
+with a little rush, set a large, rude paw upon the sensitive face
+of Flopit and capsized him. Flopit uttered a bitter complaint in an
+asthmatic voice.
+
+“Oh, nassy dray bid Horror!” cried his mistress, turning quickly at this
+sound and waving a pink parasol at Clematis. “Shoo! DIRTY dog! Go 'way!”
+ And she was able somehow to connect him with the wash-tub and boiler,
+for she added, “Nassy laundrymans to have bad doggies!”
+
+Mr. Watson rushed upon Clematis with angry bellowings and imaginary
+missiles. “You disgusting brute!” he roared. “How DARE you?”
+
+Apparently much alarmed, Clematis lowered his ears, tucked his tail
+underneath him, and fled to the rear, not halting once or looking back
+until he disappeared round the corner whence he had come. “There!” said
+Mr. Watson. “I guess HE won't bother us again very soon!”
+
+It must be admitted that Milady was one of those people who do not mind
+being overheard, no matter what they say. “Lucky for us,” she said,
+“we had a nice dray bid MANS to protect us, wasn't it, Flopit?” And
+she thought it necessary to repeat something she had already made
+sufficiently emphatic.
+
+“Nassy laundrymans!”
+
+“I expect I gave that big mongrel the fright of his life,” said Mr.
+Watson, with complacency. “He'll probably run a mile!”
+
+The shoulders of Genesis shook as he was towed along by the convulsive
+tub. He knew from previous evidence that Clematis possessed both a high
+quality and a large quantity of persistence, and it was his hilarious
+opinion that the dog had not gone far. As a matter of fact, the head
+of Clematis was at this moment cautiously extended from behind the
+fence-post at the corner whither he had fled. Viewing with growing
+assurance the scene before him, he permitted himself to emerge wholly,
+and sat down, with his head tilted to one side in thought. Almost at the
+next corner the clothes-boiler with legs, and the wash-tubs, and
+Genesis were marching on; and just behind them went three figures not
+so familiar to Clematis, and connected in his mind with a vague, mild
+apprehension. But all backs were safely toward him, and behind them
+pattered that small live thing which had so profoundly interested him.
+
+He rose and came on apace, silently.
+
+When he reached the side of Flopit, some eight or nine seconds later,
+Clematis found himself even more fascinated and perplexed than during
+their former interview, though again Flopit seemed utterly to disregard
+him. Clematis was not at all sure that Flopit WAS a dog, but he felt
+that it was his business to find out. Heaven knows, so far, Clematis had
+not a particle of animosity in his heart, but he considered it his duty
+to himself--in case Flopit turned out not to be a dog--to learn just
+what he was. The thing might be edible.
+
+Therefore, again pacing obliquely beside Flopit (while the human beings
+ahead went on, unconscious of the approaching climax behind them)
+Clematis sought to detect, by senses keener than sight, some evidence of
+Flopit's standing in the zoological kingdom; and, sniffing at the top
+of Flopit's head--though Clematis was uncertain about its indeed being a
+head--he found himself baffled and mentally much disturbed.
+
+Flopit did not smell like a dog; he smelled of violets.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+TRUCULENCE
+
+Clematis frowned and sneezed as the infinitesimal particles of sachet
+powder settled in the lining of his nose. He became serious, and was
+conscious of a growing feeling of dislike; he began to be upset over the
+whole matter. But his conscience compelled him to persist in his
+attempt to solve the mystery; and also he remembered that one should
+be courteous, no matter what some other thing chooses to be. Hence he
+sought to place his nose in contact with Flopit's, for he had perceived
+on the front of the mysterious stranger a buttony something which might
+possibly be a nose.
+
+Flopit evaded the contact. He felt that he had endured about enough
+from this Apache, and that it was nearly time to destroy him. Having no
+experience of battle, save with bedroom slippers and lace handkerchiefs,
+Flopit had little doubt of his powers as a warrior. Betrayed by his
+majestic self-importance, he had not the remotest idea that he was
+small. Usually he saw the world from a window, or from the seat of an
+automobile, or over his mistress's arm. He looked down on all dogs,
+thought them ruffianly, despised them; and it is the miraculous truth
+that not only was he unaware that he was small, but he did not even know
+that he was a dog, himself. He did not think about himself in that way.
+
+From these various ignorances of his sprang his astonishing, his
+incredible, valor. Clematis, with head lowered close to Flopit's,
+perceived something peering at him from beneath the tangled curtain
+of cottony, violet-scented stuff which seemed to be the upper part of
+Flopit's face. It was Flopit's eye, a red-rimmed eye and sore--and so
+demoniacally malignant that Clematis, indescribably startled, would
+have withdrawn his own countenance at once--but it was too late. With a
+fearful oath Flopit sprang upward and annexed himself to the under lip
+of the horrified Clematis.
+
+Horror gave place to indignation instantly; and as Miss Parcher and her
+guest turned, screaming, Clematis's self-command went all to pieces.
+
+Miss Parcher became faint and leaned against the hedge along which they
+had been passing, but her visitor continued to scream, while Mr. Watson
+endeavored to kick Clematis without ruining Flopit--a difficult matter.
+
+Flopit was baresark from the first, and the mystery is where he
+learned the dog-cursing that he did. In spite of the David-and-Goliath
+difference in size it would be less than justice to deny that a very
+fair dog-fight took place. It was so animated, in truth, that the one
+expert in such matters who was present found himself warmly interested.
+Genesis relieved himself of the burden of the wash-tub upon his back,
+dropped the handle of that other in which he had a half-interest,
+and watched the combat; his mouth, like his eyes, wide open in simple
+pleasure.
+
+He was not destined to enjoy the spectacle to the uttermost; a furious
+young person struck him a frantic, though harmless, blow with a pink
+parasol.
+
+“You stop them!” she screamed. “You make that horrible dog stop, or I'll
+have you arrested!”
+
+Genesis rushed forward.
+
+“You CLEM!” he shouted.
+
+And instantly Clematis was but a whitish and brownish streak along the
+hedge. He ran like a dog in a moving picture when they speed the film,
+and he shot from sight, once more, round the corner, while Flopit, still
+cursing, was seized and squeezed in his mistress's embrace.
+
+But she was not satisfied. “Where's that laundryman with the tin thing
+on his head?” she demanded. “He ought to be arrested for having such a
+dog. It's HIS dog, isn't it? Where is he?”
+
+Genesis turned and looked round about the horizon, mystified. William
+Sylvanus Baxter and the clothes-boiler had disappeared from sight.
+
+“If he owns that dog,” asserted the still furious owner of Flopit, “I
+WILL have him arrested. Where is he? Where is that laundryman?”
+
+“Why, he,” Genesis began slowly, “HE ain' no laundrym--” He came to an
+uncertain pause. If she chose to assume, with quick feminine intuition,
+that the dog was William's and that William was a laundryman, it was not
+Genesis's place to enlighten her. “'Tic'larly,” he reflected, “since
+she talk so free about gittin' people 'rested!” He became aware that
+William had squirmed through the hedge and now lay prostrate on the
+other side of it, but this, likewise, was something within neither his
+duty nor his inclination to reveal.
+
+“Thishere laundryman,” said Genesis, resuming--“thishere laundryman what
+own the dog, I reckon he mus' hopped on 'at street-car what went by.”
+
+“Well, he OUGHT to be arrested!” she said, and, pressing her cheek
+to Flopit's, she changed her tone. “Izzum's ickle heart a-beatin' so
+floppity! Um's own mumsy make ums all right, um's p'eshus Flopit!”
+
+Then with the consoling Miss Parcher's arm about her, and Mr. Watson
+even more dazzled with love than when he had first met her, some three
+hours past, she made her way between the tubs, and passed on down the
+street. Not till the three (and Flopit) were out of sight did William
+come forth from the hedge.
+
+“Hi yah!” exclaimed Genesis. “'At lady go'n a 'rest ev'y man what own a
+dog, 'f she had her way!”
+
+But William spoke no word.
+
+In silence, then, they resumed their burdens and their journey. Clematis
+was waiting for them at the corner ahead.
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+MR. BAXTER'S EVENING CLOTHES
+
+That evening, at about half-past seven o'clock, dinner being over and
+Mr. and Mrs. Baxter (parents of William) seated in the library, Mrs.
+Baxter said:
+
+“I think it's about time for you to go and dress for your Emerson Club
+meeting, papa, if you intend to go.”
+
+“Do I have to dress?” Mr. Baxter asked, plaintively.
+
+“I think nearly all the men do, don't they?” she insisted.
+
+“But I'm getting old enough not to have to, don't you think, mamma?” he
+urged, appealingly. “When a man's my age--”
+
+“Nonsense!” she said. “Your figure is exactly like William's. It's the
+figure that really shows age first, and yours hasn't begun to.” And she
+added, briskly, “Go along like a good boy and get it ever!”
+
+Mr. Baxter rose submissively and went upstairs to do as he was bid. But,
+after fifteen or twenty minutes, during which his footsteps had
+been audible in various parts of the house, he called down over the
+banisters:
+
+“I can't find 'em.”
+
+“Can't find what?”
+
+“My evening clothes. They aren't anywhere in the house.”
+
+“Where did you put them the last time you wore them?” she called.
+
+“I don't know. I haven't had 'em on since last spring.”
+
+“All right; I'll come,” she said, putting her sewing upon the table and
+rising. “Men never can find anything,” she observed, additionally, as
+she ascended the stairs. “Especially their own things!”
+
+On this occasion, however, as she was obliged to admit a little later,
+women were not more efficacious than the duller sex. Search high, search
+low, no trace of Mr. Baxter's evening clothes were to be found. “Perhaps
+William could find them,” said Mrs. Baxter, a final confession of
+helplessness.
+
+But William was no more to be found than the missing apparel. William,
+in fact, after spending some time in the lower back hall, listening to
+the quest above, had just gone out through the kitchen door. And after
+some ensuing futile efforts, Mr. Baxter was forced to proceed to his
+club in the accoutrements of business.
+
+He walked slowly, enjoying the full moon, which sailed up a river in the
+sky--the open space between the trees that lined the street--and as
+he passed the house of Mr. Parcher he noted the fine white shape of a
+masculine evening bosom gleaming in the moonlight on the porch. A
+dainty figure in white sat beside it, and there was another white figure
+present, though this one was so small that Mr. Baxter did not see it at
+all. It was the figure of a tiny doglet, and it reposed upon the black
+masculine knees that belonged to the evening bosom.
+
+Mr. Baxter heard a dulcet voice.
+
+“He IS indifferink, isn't he, sweetest Flopit? Seriously, though,
+Mr. Watson was telling me about you to-day. He says you're the most
+indifferent man he knows. He says you don't care two minutes whether a
+girl lives or dies. Isn't he a mean ole wicked sing, p'eshus Flopit!”
+
+The reply was inaudible, and Mr. Baxter passed on, having recognized
+nothing of his own.
+
+“These YOUNG fellows don't have any trouble finding their dress-suits, I
+guess,” he murmured. “Not on a night like this!”
+
+
+... Thus William, after a hard day, came to the gates of his romance,
+entering those portals of the moon in triumph. At one stroke his dashing
+raiment gave him high superiority over Johnnie Watson and other rivals
+who might loom. But if he had known to what undoing this great coup
+exposed him, it is probable that Mr. Baxter would have appeared at the
+Emerson Club, that night, in evening clothes.
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+JANE
+
+William's period of peculiar sensitiveness dated from that evening, and
+Jane, in particular, caused him a great deal of anxiety. In fact, he
+began to feel that Jane was a mortification which his parents might have
+spared him, with no loss to themselves or to the world. Not having
+shown that consideration for anybody, they might at least have been less
+spinelessly indulgent of her. William's bitter conviction was that he
+had never seen a child so starved of discipline or so lost to etiquette
+as Jane.
+
+For one thing, her passion for bread-and-butter, covered with apple
+sauce and powdered sugar, was getting to be a serious matter. Secretly,
+William was not yet so changed by love as to be wholly indifferent to
+this refection himself, but his consumption of it was private, whereas
+Jane had formed the habit of eating it in exposed places--such as the
+front yard or the sidewalk. At no hour of the day was it advisable for
+a relative to approach the neighborhood in fastidious company, unless
+prepared to acknowledge kinship with a spindly young person either
+eating bread-and-butter and apple sauce and powdered sugar, or all too
+visibly just having eaten bread-and-butter and apple sauce and powdered
+sugar. Moreover, there were times when Jane had worse things than apple
+sauce to answer for, as William made clear to his mother in an oration
+as hot as the July noon sun which looked down upon it.
+
+Mrs. Baxter was pleasantly engaged with a sprinkling-can and some small
+flower-beds in the shady back yard, and Jane, having returned from
+various sidewalk excursions, stood close by as a spectator, her hands
+replenished with the favorite food and her chin rising and falling in
+gentle motions, little prophecies of the slight distensions which passed
+down her slender throat with slow, rhythmic regularity. Upon this calm
+scene came William, plunging round a corner of the house, furious yet
+plaintive.
+
+“You've got to do something about that child!” he began. “I CAN not
+stand it!”
+
+Jane looked at him dumbly, not ceasing, how ever, to eat; while Mrs.
+Baxter thoughtfully continued her sprinkling.
+
+“You've been gone all morning, Willie,” she said. “I thought your father
+mentioned at breakfast that he expected you to put in at least four
+hours a day on your mathematics and--”
+
+“That's neither here nor there,” William returned, vehemently. “I just
+want to say this: if you don't do something about Jane, I will! Just
+look at her! LOOK at her, I ask you! That's just the way she looked half
+an hour ago, out on the public sidewalk in front of the house, when
+I came by here with Miss PRATT! That was pleasant, wasn't it? To be
+walking with a lady on the public street and meet a member of my family
+looking like that! Oh, LOVELY!”
+
+In the anguish of this recollection his voice cracked, and though his
+eyes were dry his gestures wept for him. Plainly, he was about to reach
+the most lamentable portion of his narrative. “And then she HOLLERED at
+me! She hollered, 'Oh, WILL--EE!'” Here he gave an imitation of Jane's
+voice, so damnatory that Jane ceased to eat for several moments and drew
+herself up with a kind of dignity. “She hollered, 'Oh, WILL--EE' at
+me!” he stormed. “Anybody would think I was about six years old! She
+hollered, 'Oh, Will--ee,' and she rubbed her stomach and slushed apple
+sauce all over her face, and she kept hollering, 'Will--ee!' with her
+mouth full. 'Will--ee, look! Good! Bread-and-butter and apple sauce and
+sugar! I bet you wish YOU had some, Will--ee!'”
+
+“You did eat some, the other day,” said Jane. “You ate a whole lot. You
+eat it every chance you get!”
+
+“You hush up!” he shouted, and returned to his description of the
+outrage. “She kept FOLLOWING us! She followed us, hollering, 'WILL--EE!'
+till it's a wonder we didn't go deaf! And just look at her! I don't
+see how you can stand it to have her going around like that and people
+knowing it's your child! Why, she hasn't got enough ON!”
+
+Mrs. Baxter laughed. “Oh, for this very hot weather, I really don't
+think people notice or care much about--”
+
+“'Notice'!” he wailed. “I guess Miss PRATT noticed! Hot weather's no
+excuse for--for outright obesity!” (As Jane was thin, it is probable
+that William had mistaken the meaning of this word.) “Why, half o' what
+she HAS got on has come unfastened--especially that frightful thing
+hanging around her leg--and look at her back, I just beg you! I ask you
+to look at her back. You can see her spinal cord!”
+
+“Column,” Mrs. Baxter corrected. “Spinal column, Willie.”
+
+“What do _I_ care which it is?” he fumed. “People aren't supposed to go
+around with it EXPOSED, whichever it is! And with apple sauce on their
+ears!”
+
+“There is not!” Jane protested, and at the moment when she spoke she was
+right. Naturally, however, she lifted her hands to the accused ears, and
+the unfortunate result was to justify William's statement.
+
+“LOOK!” he cried. “I just ask you to look! Think of it: that's the sight
+I have to meet when I'm out walking with Miss PRATT! She asked me who
+it was, and I wish you'd seen her face. She wanted to know who 'that
+curious child' was, and I'm glad you didn't hear the way she said it.
+'Who IS that curious child?' she said, and I had to tell her it was my
+sister. I had to tell Miss PRATT it was my only SISTER!”
+
+“Willie, who is Miss Pratt?” asked Mrs. Baxter, mildly. “I don't think
+I've ever heard of--”
+
+Jane had returned to an admirable imperturbability, but she chose
+this moment to interrupt her mother, and her own eating, with remarks
+delivered in a tone void of emphasis or expression.
+
+“Willie's mashed on her,” she said, casually. “And she wears false
+side-curls. One almost came off.”
+
+At this unspeakable desecration William's face was that of a high priest
+stricken at the altar.
+
+“She's visitin' Miss May Parcher,” added the deadly Jane. “But the
+Parchers are awful tired of her. They wish she'd go home, but they don't
+like to tell her so.”
+
+One after another these insults from the canaille fell upon the ears of
+William. That slanders so atrocious could soil the universal air seemed
+unthinkable.
+
+He became icily calm.
+
+“NOW if you don't punish her,” he said, deliberately, “it's because you
+have lost your sense of duty!”
+
+Having uttered these terrible words, he turned upon his heel and marched
+toward the house. His mother called after him:
+
+“Wait, Willie. Jane doesn't mean to hurt your feelings--”
+
+“My feelings!” he cried, the iciness of his demeanor giving way under
+the strain of emotion. “You stand there and allow her to speak as she
+did of one of the--one of the--” For a moment William appeared to be at
+a loss, and the fact is that it always has been a difficult matter to
+describe THE bright, ineffable divinity of the world to one's mother,
+especially in the presence of an inimical third party of tender years.
+“One of the--” he said; “one of the--the noblest--one of the noblest--”
+
+Again he paused.
+
+“Oh, Jane didn't mean anything,” said Mrs. Baxter. “And if you think
+Miss Pratt is so nice, I'll ask May Parcher to bring her to tea with us
+some day. If it's too hot, we'll have iced tea, and you can ask Johnnie
+Watson, if you like. Don't get so upset about things, Willie!”
+
+“'Upset'!” he echoed, appealing to heaven against this word. “'Upset'!”
+ And he entered the house in a manner most dramatic.
+
+“What made you say that?” Mrs. Baxter asked, turning curiously to Jane
+when William had disappeared. “Where did you hear any such things?”
+
+“I was there,” Jane replied, gently eating on and on. William could come
+and William could go, but Jane's alimentary canal went on forever.
+
+“You were where, Jane?”
+
+“At the Parchers'.”
+
+“Oh, I see.”
+
+“Yesterday afternoon,” said Jane, “when Miss Parcher had the
+Sunday-school class for lemonade and cookies.”
+
+“Did you hear Miss Parcher say--”
+
+“No'm,” said Jane. “I ate too many cookies, I guess, maybe. Anyways,
+Miss Parcher said I better lay down--”
+
+“LIE down, Jane.”
+
+“Yes'm. On the sofa in the liberry, an' Mrs. Parcher an' Mr. Parcher
+came in there an' sat down, after while, an' it was kind of dark, an'
+they didn't hardly notice me, or I guess they thought I was asleep,
+maybe. Anyways, they didn't talk loud, but Mr. Parcher would sort of
+grunt an' ack cross. He said he just wished he knew when he was goin'
+to have a home again. Then Mrs. Parcher said May HAD to ask her
+Sunday-school class, but he said he never meant the Sunday-school class.
+He said since Miss Pratt came to visit, there wasn't anywhere he could
+go, because Willie Baxter an' Johnnie Watson an' Joe Bullitt an' all the
+other ones like that were there all the time, an' it made him just sick
+at the stummick, an' he did wish there was some way to find out when she
+was goin' home, because he couldn't stand much more talk about love.
+He said Willie an' Johnnie Watson an' Joe Bullitt an' Miss Pratt were
+always arguin' somep'm about love, an' he said Willie was the worst.
+Mamma, he said he didn't like the rest of it, but he said he guessed he
+could stand it if it wasn't for Willie. An' he said the reason they were
+all so in love of Miss Pratt was because she talks baby-talk, an' he
+said he couldn't stand much more baby-talk. Mamma, she has the loveliest
+little white dog, an' Mr. Parcher doesn't like it. He said he couldn't
+go anywhere around the place without steppin' on the dog or Willie
+Baxter. An' he said he couldn't sit on his own porch any more; he said
+he couldn't sit even in the liberry but he had to hear baby-talk goin'
+on SOMEwheres an' then either Willie Baxter or Joe Bullitt or
+somebody or another arguin' about love. Mamma, he said”--Jane became
+impressive--“he said, mamma, he said he didn't mind the Sunday-school
+class, but he couldn't stand those dam boys!”
+
+“Jane!” Mrs. Baxter cried, “you MUSTN'T say such things!”
+
+“I didn't, mamma. Mr. Parcher said it. He said he couldn't stand those
+da--”
+
+“JANE! No matter what he said, you mustn't repeat--”
+
+“But I'm not. I only said Mr. PARCHER said he couldn't stand those d--”
+
+Mrs. Baxter cut the argument short by imprisoning Jane's mouth with a
+firm hand. Jane continued to swallow quietly until released. Then she
+said:
+
+“But, mamma, how can I tell you what he said unless I say--”
+
+“Hush!” Mrs. Baxter commanded. “You must never, never again use such a
+terrible and wicked word.”
+
+“I won't, mamma,” Jane said, meekly. Then she brightened. “Oh, _I_ know!
+I'll say 'word' instead. Won't that be all right?”
+
+“I--I suppose so.”
+
+“Well, Mr. Parcher said he couldn't stand those word boys. That sounds
+all right, doesn't it, mamma?”
+
+Mrs. Baxter hesitated, but she was inclined to hear as complete as
+possible a report of Mr. and Mrs. Parcher's conversation, since it
+seemed to concern William so nearly; and she well knew that Jane had her
+own way of telling things--or else they remained untold.
+
+“I--I suppose so,” Mrs. Baxter said, again.
+
+“Well, they kind of talked along,” Jane continued, much pleased;--“an'
+Mr. Parcher said when he was young he wasn't any such a--such a word
+fool as these young word fools were. He said in all his born days Willie
+Baxter was the wordest fool he ever saw!”
+
+Willie Baxter's mother flushed a little. “That was very unjust and very
+wrong of Mr. Parcher,” she said, primly.
+
+“Oh no, mamma!” Jane protested. “Mrs. Parcher thought so, too.”
+
+“Did she, indeed!”
+
+“Only she didn't say word or wordest or anything like that,” Jane
+explained. “She said it was because Miss Pratt had coaxed him to be so
+in love of her, an' Mr. Parcher said he didn't care whose fault it was,
+Willie was a--a word calf an' so were all the rest of 'em, Mr. Parcher
+said. An' he said he couldn't stand it any more. Mr. Parcher said that a
+whole lot of times, mamma. He said he guess' pretty soon he'd haf to be
+in the lunatic asylum if Miss Pratt stayed a few more days with her word
+little dog an' her word Willie Baxter an' all the other word calfs. Mrs.
+Parcher said he oughtn't to say 'word,' mamma. She said, 'Hush, hush!'
+to him, mamma. He talked like this, mamma: he said, 'I'll be word if I
+stand it!' An' he kept gettin' crosser, an' he said, 'Word! Word! WORD!
+WOR--'”
+
+“There!” Mrs. Baxter interrupted, sharply. “That will do, Jane! We'll
+talk about something else now, I think.”
+
+Jane looked hurt; she was taking great pleasure in this confidential
+interview, and gladly would have continued to quote the harried Mr.
+Parcher at great length. Still, she was not entirely uncontent: she must
+have had some perception that her performance merely as a notable bit of
+reportorial art--did not wholly lack style, even if her attire did. Yet,
+brilliant as Jane's work was, Mrs. Baxter felt no astonishment; several
+times ere this Jane had demonstrated a remarkable faculty for the
+retention of details concerning William. And running hand in hand with
+a really superb curiosity, this powerful memory was making Jane an even
+greater factor in William's life than he suspected.
+
+During the glamors of early love, if there be a creature more deadly
+than the little brother of a budding woman, that creature is the little
+sister of a budding man. The little brother at least tells in the open
+all he knows, often at full power of his lungs, and even that may be
+avoided, since he is wax in the hands of bribery; but the little sister
+is more apt to save her knowledge for use upon a terrible occasion; and,
+no matter what bribes she may accept, she is certain to tell her mother
+everything. All in all, a young lover should arrange, if possible, to be
+the only child of elderly parents; otherwise his mother and sister are
+sure to know a great deal more about him than he knows that they know.
+
+This was what made Jane's eyes so disturbing to William during lunch
+that day. She ate quietly and competently, but all the while he was
+conscious of her solemn and inscrutable gaze fixed upon him; and she
+spoke not once. She could not have rendered herself more annoying,
+especially as William was trying to treat her with silent scorn, for
+nothing is more irksome to the muscles of the face than silent scorn,
+when there is no means of showing it except by the expression. On the
+other hand, Jane's inscrutability gave her no discomfort whatever. In
+fact, inscrutability is about the most comfortable expression that a
+person can wear, though the truth is that just now Jane was not really
+inscrutable at all.
+
+She was merely looking at William and thinking of Mr. Parcher.
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+LITTLE SISTERS HAVE BIG EARS
+
+The confidential talk between mother and daughter at noon was not
+the last to take place that day. At nightfall--eight o'clock in this
+pleasant season--Jane was saying her prayers beside her bed, while her
+mother stood close by, waiting to put out the light.
+
+“An' bless mamma and papa an'--” Jane murmured, coming to a pause.
+“An'--an' bless Willie,” she added, with a little reluctance.
+
+“Go on, dear,” said her mother. “You haven't finished.”
+
+“I know it, mamma,” Jane looked up to say. “I was just thinkin' a
+minute. I want to tell you about somep'm.”
+
+“Finish your prayers first, Jane.”
+
+Jane obeyed with a swiftness in which there was no intentional
+irreverence. Then she jumped into bed and began a fresh revelation.
+
+“It's about papa's clo'es, mamma.”
+
+“What clothes of papa's? What do you mean, Jane?” asked Mrs. Baxter,
+puzzled.
+
+“The ones you couldn't find. The ones you been lookin' for 'most every
+day.”
+
+“You mean papa's evening clothes?”
+
+“Yes'm,” said Jane. “Willie's got 'em on.”
+
+“What!”
+
+“Yes, he has!” Jane assured her with emphasis. “I bet you he's had 'em
+on every single evening since Miss Pratt came to visit the Parchers!
+Anyway, he's got 'em on now, 'cause I saw 'em.”
+
+Mrs. Baxter bit her lip and frowned. “Are you sure, Jane?”
+
+“Yes'm. I saw him in 'em.”
+
+“How?”
+
+“Well, I was in my bare feet after I got undressed--before you came
+up-stairs--mamma, an' I was kind of walkin' around in the hall--”
+
+“You shouldn't do that, Jane.”
+
+“No'm. An' I heard Willie say somep'm kind of to himself, or like
+deckamation. He was inside his room, but the door wasn't quite shut. He
+started out once, but he went back for somep'm an' forgot to, I guess.
+Anyway, I thought I better look an' see what was goin' on, mamma. So I
+just kind of peeked in--”
+
+“But you shouldn't do that, dear,” Mrs. Baxter said, musingly. “It isn't
+really quite honorable.”
+
+“No'm. Well, what you think he was doin'?” (Here Jane's voice betrayed
+excitement and so did her eyes.) “He was standin' up there in papa's
+clo'es before the lookin'-glass, an' first he'd lean his head over on
+one side, an' then he'd lean it over on the other side, an' then he'd
+bark, mamma.”
+
+“He'd what?”
+
+“Yes'm!” said Jane. “He'd give a little, teeny BARK, mamma--kind of like
+a puppy, mamma.”
+
+“What?” cried Mrs. Baxter.
+
+“Yes'm, he did!” Jane asserted. “He did it four or five times. First
+he'd lean his head way over on his shoulder like this--look, mamma!--an'
+then he'd lean it way over the other shoulder, an' every time he'd do it
+he'd bark. 'Berp-werp!' he'd say, mamma, just like that, only not loud
+at all. He said, 'Berp-werp! BERP-WERP-WERP!' You could tell he meant
+it for barkin', but it wasn't very good, mamma. What you think he meant,
+mamma?”
+
+“Heaven knows!” murmured the astonished mother.
+
+“An' then,” Jane continued, “he quit barkin' all of a sudden, an' didn't
+lean his head over any more, an' commenced actin' kind of solemn, an'
+kind of whispered to himself. I think he was kind of pretendin' he was
+talkin' to Miss Pratt, or at a party, maybe. Anyways, he spoke out loud
+after while not just exactly LOUD, I mean, but anyway so's 't I could
+hear what he said. Mamma--he said, 'Oh, my baby-talk lady!' just like
+that, mamma. Listen, mamma, here's the way he said it: 'Oh, my baby-talk
+lady!'”
+
+Jane's voice, in this impersonation, became sufficiently soft and
+tremulous to give Mrs. Baxter a fair idea of the tender yearning of the
+original. “'OH, MY BABY-TALK LADY!'” cooed the terrible Jane.
+
+“Mercy!” Mrs. Baxter exclaimed. “Perhaps it's no wonder Mr. Parcher--”
+ She broke off abruptly, then inquired, “What did he do next, Jane?”
+
+“Next,” said Jane, “he put the light out, an' I had to--well, I just
+waited kind of squeeged up against the wall, an' he never saw me. He
+went on out to the back stairs, an' went down the stairs tiptoe, mamma.
+You know what I think, mamma? I think he goes out that way an' through
+the kitchen on account of papa's clo'es.”
+
+Mrs. Baxter paused, with her hand upon the key of the shaded electric
+lamp. “I suppose so,” she said. “I think perhaps--” For a moment or
+two she wrapped herself in thought. “Perhaps”--she repeated,
+musingly--“perhaps we'll keep this just a secret between you and me for
+a little while, Jane, and not say anything to papa about the clothes. I
+don't think it will hurt them, and I suppose Willie feels they give
+him a great advantage over the other boys--and papa uses them so very
+little, especially since he's grown a wee bit stouter. Yes, it will be
+our secret, Jane. We'll think it over till to-morrow.”
+
+“Yes'm.”
+
+Mrs. Baxter turned out the light, then came and kissed Jane in the dark.
+“Good night, dear.”
+
+“G' night, mamma.” But as Mrs. Baxter reached the door Jane's voice was
+heard again.
+
+“Mamma?”
+
+“Yes?” Mrs. Baxter paused.
+
+“Mamma,” Jane said, slowly, “I think--I think Mr. Parcher is a very nice
+man. Mamma?”
+
+“Yes, dear?”
+
+“Mamma, what do you s'pose Willie barked at the lookin'-glass for?”
+
+“That,” said Mrs. Baxter, “is beyond me. Young people and children do
+the strangest things, Jane! And then, when they get to be middle-aged,
+they forget all those strange things they did, and they can't understand
+what the new young people--like you and Willie mean by the strange
+things THEY do.”
+
+“Yes'm. I bet _I_ know what he was barkin' for, mamma.”
+
+“Well?”
+
+“You know what I think? I think he was kind of practisin'. I think he
+was practisin' how to bark at Mr. Parcher.”
+
+“No, no!” Mrs. Baxter laughed. “Who ever could think of such a thing but
+you, Jane! You go to sleep and forget your nonsense!”
+
+Nevertheless, Jane might almost have been gifted with clairvoyance, her
+preposterous idea came so close to the actual fact, for at that very
+moment William was barking. He was not barking directly at Mr. Parcher,
+it is true, but within a short distance of him and all too well within
+his hearing.
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+MR. PARCHER AND LOVE
+
+Mr. Parcher, that unhappy gentleman, having been driven indoors from his
+own porch, had attempted to read Plutarch's Lives in the library, but,
+owing to the adjacency of the porch and the summer necessity for open
+windows, his escape spared only his eyes and not his suffering ears. The
+house was small, being but half of a double one, with small rooms, and
+the “parlor,” library, and dining-room all about equally exposed to the
+porch which ran along the side of the house. Mr. Parcher had no refuge
+except bed or the kitchen, and as he was troubled with chronic insomnia,
+and the cook had callers in the kitchen, his case was desperate. Most
+unfortunately, too, his reading-lamp, the only one in the house, was a
+fixture near a window, and just beyond that window sat Miss Pratt and
+William in sweet unconsciousness, while Miss Parcher entertained the
+overflow (consisting of Mr. Johnnie Watson) at the other end of the
+porch. Listening perforce to the conversation of the former couple
+though “conversation” is far from the expression later used by Mr.
+Parcher to describe what he heard--he found it impossible to sit
+still in his chair. He jerked and twitched with continually increasing
+restlessness; sometimes he gasped, and other times he moaned a little,
+and there were times when he muttered huskily.
+
+“Oh, cute-ums!” came the silvery voice of Miss Pratt from the likewise
+silvery porch outside, underneath the summer moon. “Darlin' Flopit,
+look! Ickle boy Baxter goin' make imitations of darlin' Flopit again.
+See! Ickle boy Baxter puts head one side, then other side, just
+like darlin' Flopit. Then barks just like darlin' Flopit! Ladies and
+'entlemen, imitations of darlin' Flopit by ickle boy Baxter.”
+
+“Berp-werp! Berp-werp!” came the voice of William Sylvanus Baxter.
+
+And in the library Plutarch's Lives moved convulsively, while with
+writhing lips Mr. Parcher muttered to himself.
+
+“More, more!” cried Miss Pratt, clapping her hands. “Do it again, ickle
+boy Baxter!”
+
+“Berp-werp! Berp-werp-werp!”
+
+“WORD!” muttered Mr. Parcher.
+
+Miss Pratt's voice became surcharged with honeyed wonder. “How did he
+learn such marv'lous, MARV'LOUS imitations of darlin' Flopit? He ought
+to go on the big, big stage and be a really actor, oughtn't he, darlin'
+Flopit? He could make milyums and milyums of dollardies, couldn't he,
+darlin' Flopit?”
+
+William's modest laugh disclaimed any great ambition for himself in this
+line. “Oh, I always could think up imitations of animals; things like
+that--but I hardly would care to--to adop' the stage for a career.
+Would--you?” (There was a thrill in his voice when he pronounced the
+ineffably significant word “you.”)
+
+Miss Pratt became intensely serious.
+
+“It's my DREAM!” she said.
+
+William, seated upon a stool at her feet, gazed up at the amber head,
+divinely splashed by the rain of moonlight. The fire with which she
+spoke stirred him as few things had ever stirred him. He knew she had
+just revealed a side of herself which she reserved for only the chosen
+few who were capable of understanding her, and he fell into a hushed
+rapture. It seemed to him that there was a sacredness about this moment,
+and he sought vaguely for something to say that would live up to it and
+not be out of keeping. Then, like an inspiration, there came into his
+head some words he had read that day and thought beautiful. He had found
+them beneath an illustration in a magazine, and he spoke them almost
+instinctively.
+
+“It was wonderful of you to say that to me,” he said. “I shall never
+forget it!”
+
+“It's my DREAM!” Miss Pratt exclaimed, again, with the same enthusiasm.
+“It's my DREAM.”
+
+“You would make a glorious actress!” he said.
+
+At that her mood changed. She laughed a laugh like a sweet little girl's
+laugh (not Jane's) and, setting her rocking-chair in motion, cuddled the
+fuzzy white doglet in her arms. “Ickle boy Baxter t'yin' flatterbox us,
+tunnin' Flopit! No'ty, no'ty flatterbox!”
+
+“No, no!” William insisted, earnestly. “I mean it. But--but--”
+
+“But whatcums?”
+
+“What do you think about actors and actresses making love to each other
+on the stage? Do you think they have to really feel it, or do they just
+pretend?”
+
+“Well,” said Miss Pratt, weightily, “sometimes one way, sometimes the
+other.”
+
+William's gravity became more and more profound. “Yes, but how can they
+pretend like that? Don't you think love is a sacred thing, Cousin Lola?”
+
+Fictitious sisterships, brotherships, and cousinships are devices to
+push things along, well known to seventeen and even more advanced ages.
+On the wonderful evening of their first meeting William and Miss Pratt
+had cozily arranged to be called, respectively, “Ickle boy Baxter” and
+“Cousin Lola.” (Thus they had broken down the tedious formalities of
+their first twenty minutes together.)
+
+“Don't you think love is sacred?” he repeated in the deepest tone of
+which his vocal cords were capable.
+
+“Ess,” said Miss Pratt.
+
+“_I_ do!” William was emphatic. “I think love is the most sacred thing
+there is. I don't mean SOME kinds of love. I mean REAL love. You take
+some people, I don't believe they ever know what real love means. They
+TALK about it, maybe, but they don't understand it. Love is something
+nobody can understand unless they feel it and and if they don't
+understand it they don't feel it. Don't YOU think so?”
+
+“Ess.”
+
+“Love,” William continued, his voice lifting and thrilling to the great
+theme--“love is something nobody can ever have but one time in their
+lives, and if they don't have it then, why prob'ly they never will.
+Now, if a man REALLY loves a girl, why he'd do anything in the world she
+wanted him to. Don't YOU think so?”
+
+“Ess, 'deedums!” said the silvery voice.
+
+“But if he didn't, then he wouldn't,” said William vehemently. “But when
+a man really loves a girl he will. Now, you take a man like that and
+he can generally do just about anything the girl he loves wants him
+to. Say, f'rinstance, she wants him to love her even more than he does
+already--or almost anything like that--and supposin' she asks him to.
+Well, he would go ahead and do it. If they really loved each other he
+would!”
+
+He paused a moment, then in a lowered tone he said, “I think REAL love
+is sacred, don't you?”
+
+“Ess.”
+
+“Don't you think love is the most sacred thing there is--that is, if
+it's REAL love?”
+
+“Ess.”
+
+“_I_ do,” said William, warmly. “I--I'm glad you feel like that, because
+I think real love is the kind nobody could have but just once in their
+lives, but if it isn't REAL love, why--why most people never have it at
+all, because--” He paused, seeming to seek for the exact phrase which
+would express his meaning. “--Because the REAL love a man feels for a
+girl and a girl for a man, if they REALLY love each other, and, you look
+at a case like that, of course they would BOTH love each other, or it
+wouldn't be real love well, what _I_ say is, if it's REAL love, well,
+it's--it's sacred, because I think that kind of love is always sacred.
+Don't you think love is sacred if it's the real thing?”
+
+“Ess,” said Miss Pratt. “Do Flopit again. Be Flopit!”
+
+“Berp-werp! Berp-werp-werp.”
+
+And within the library an agonized man writhed and muttered:
+
+“WORD! WORD! WORD--”
+
+This hoarse repetition had become almost continuous.
+
+... But out on the porch, that little, jasmine-scented bower in
+Arcady where youth cried to youth and golden heads were haloed in the
+moonshine, there fell a silence. Not utter silence, for out there an
+ethereal music sounded constantly, unheard and forgotten by older ears.
+Time was when the sly playwrights used “incidental music” in their
+dramas; they knew that an audience would be moved so long as the music
+played; credulous while that crafty enchantment lasted. And when the
+galled Mr. Parcher wondered how those young people out on the porch
+could listen to each other and not die, it was because he did not
+hear and had forgotten the music that throbs in the veins of youth.
+Nevertheless, it may not be denied that despite his poor memory this man
+of fifty was deserving of a little sympathy.
+
+It was William who broke the silence. “How--” he began, and his voice
+trembled a little. “How--how do you--how do you think of me when I'm not
+with you?”
+
+“Think nice-cums,” Miss Pratt responded. “Flopit an' me think
+nice-cums.”
+
+“No,” said William; “I mean what name do you have for me when you're
+when you're thinking about me?”
+
+Miss Pratt seemed to be puzzled, perhaps justifiably, and she made a
+cooing sound of interrogation.
+
+“I mean like this,” William explained. “F'rinstance, when you first
+came, I always thought of you as 'Milady'--when I wrote that poem, you
+know.”
+
+“Ess. Boo'fums.”
+
+“But now I don't,” he said. “Now I think of you by another name when I'm
+alone. It--it just sort of came to me. I was kind of just sitting around
+this afternoon, and I didn't know I was thinking about anything at all
+very much, and then all of a sudden I said it to myself out loud. It was
+about as strange a thing as I ever knew of. Don't YOU think so?”
+
+“Ess. It uz dest WEIRD!” she answered. “What ARE dat pitty names?”
+
+“I called you,” said William, huskily and reverently, “I called you 'My
+Baby-Talk Lady.'”
+
+BANG!
+
+They were startled by a crash from within the library; a heavy weight
+seemed to have fallen (or to have been hurled) a considerable distance.
+Stepping to the window, William beheld a large volume lying in a
+distorted attitude at the foot of the wall opposite to that in which the
+reading-lamp was a fixture. But of all human life the room was empty;
+for Mr. Parcher had given up, and was now hastening to his bed in the
+last faint hope of saving his reason.
+
+His symptoms, however, all pointed to its having fled; and his wife,
+looking up from some computations in laundry charges, had but a vision
+of windmill gestures as he passed the door of her room. Then, not only
+for her, but for the inoffensive people who lived in the other half of
+the house, the closing of his own door took place in a really memorable
+manner.
+
+William, gazing upon the fallen Plutarch, had just offered the
+explanation, “Somebody must 'a' thrown it at a bug or something, I
+guess,” when the second explosion sent its reverberations through the
+house.
+
+“My doodness!” Miss Pratt exclaimed, jumping up.
+
+William laughed reassuringly, remaining calm. “It's only a door blew
+shut up-stairs,” he said “Let's sit down again--just the way we were?”
+
+Unfortunately for him, Mr. Joe Bullitt now made his appearance at the
+other end of the porch. Mr. Bullitt, though almost a year younger than
+either William or Johnnie Watson, was of a turbulent and masterful
+disposition. Moreover, in regard to Miss Pratt, his affections were
+in as ardent a state as those of his rivals, and he lacked Johnnie's
+meekness. He firmly declined to be shunted by Miss Parcher, who was
+trying to favor William's cause, according to a promise he had won of
+her by strong pleading. Regardless of her efforts, Mr. Bullitt descended
+upon William and his Baby-Talk-Lady, and received from the latter a
+honeyed greeting, somewhat to the former's astonishment and not at all
+to his pleasure.
+
+“Oh, goody-cute!” cried Miss Pratt. “Here's big Bruvva Josie-Joe!” And
+she lifted her little dog close to Mr. Bullitt's face, guiding one of
+Flopit's paws with her fingers. “Stroke big Bruvva Josie-Joe's pint
+teeks, darlin' Flopit.” (Josie-Joe's pink cheeks were indicated by the
+expression “pint teeks,” evidently, for her accompanying action was to
+pass Flopit's paw lightly over those glowing surfaces.) “'At's nice!”
+ she remarked. “Stroke him gently, p'eshus Flopit, an' nen we'll coax him
+to make pitty singin' for us, like us did yestiday.”
+
+She turned to William.
+
+“COAX him to make pitty singin'? I LOVE his voice--I'm dest CRAZY over
+it. Isn't oo?”
+
+William's passion for Mr. Bullitt's voice appeared to be under control.
+He laughed coldly, almost harshly. “Him sing?” he said. “Has he been
+tryin' to sing around HERE? I wonder the family didn't call for the
+police!”
+
+It was to be seen that Mr. Bullitt did not relish the sally. “Well, they
+will,” he retorted, “if you ever spring one o' your solos on 'em!” And
+turning to Miss Pratt, he laughed loudly and bitterly. “You ought to
+hear Silly Bill sing--some time when you don't mind goin' to bed sick
+for a couple o' days!”
+
+Symptoms of truculence at once became alarmingly pronounced on both
+sides. William was naturally incensed, and as for Mr. Bullitt, he had
+endured a great deal from William every evening since Miss Pratt's
+arrival. William's evening clothes were hard enough for both Mr. Watson
+and Mr. Bullitt to bear, without any additional insolence on the part
+of the wearer. Big Bruvva Josie-Joe took a step toward his enemy and
+breathed audibly.
+
+“Let's ALL sing,” the tactful Miss Pratt proposed, hastily. “Come on,
+May and Cousin Johnnie-Jump-Up,” she called to Miss Parcher and Mr.
+Watson. “Singin'-school, dirls an' boys! Singin'-school! Ding, ding!
+Singin'-school bell's a-wingin'!”
+
+The diversion was successful. Miss Parcher and Mr. Watson joined the
+other group with alacrity, and the five young people were presently
+seated close together upon the steps of the porch, sending their voices
+out upon the air and up to Mr. Parcher's window in the song they found
+loveliest that summer.
+
+Miss Pratt carried the air. William also carried it part of the time
+and hunted for it the rest of the time, though never in silence. Miss
+Parcher “sang alto,” Mr. Bullitt “sang bass,” and Mr. Watson “sang
+tenor”--that is, he sang as high as possible, often making the top sound
+of a chord and always repeating the last phrase of each line before the
+others finished it. The melody was a little too sweet, possibly; while
+the singers thought so highly of the words that Mr. Parcher missed not
+one, especially as the vocal rivalry between Josie-Joe and Ickle Boy
+Baxter incited each of them to prevent Miss Pratt from hearing the
+other.
+
+William sang loudest of all; Mr. Parcher had at no time any difficulty
+in recognizing his voice.
+
+          “Oh, I love my love in the morning
+               And I love my love at night,
+          I love my love in the dawning,
+               And when the stars are bright.
+          Some may love the sunshine,
+               Others may love the dew.
+          Some may love the raindrops,
+               But I love only you-OO-oo!
+                    By the stars up above
+                    It is you I luh-HUV!
+               Yes, _I_ love own-LAY you!”
+
+They sang it four times; then Mr. Bullitt sang his solo, “Tell her, O
+Golden Moon, how I Adore her,” William following with “The violate loves
+the cowslip, but _I_ love YEW,” and after that they all sang, “Oh, I
+love my love in the morning,” again.
+
+All this while that they sang of love, Mr. Parcher was moving to and fro
+upon his bed, not more than eighteen feet in an oblique upward-slanting
+line from the heads of the serenaders. Long, long he tossed, listening
+to the young voices singing of love; long, long he thought of love, and
+many, many times he spoke of it aloud, though he was alone in the room.
+And in thus speaking of it, he would give utterance to phrases and
+words probably never before used in connection with love since the world
+began.
+
+His thoughts, and, at intervals, his mutterings, continued to be active
+far into the night, long after the callers had gone, and though his
+household and the neighborhood were at rest, with never a katydid
+outside to rail at the waning moon. And by a coincidence not more
+singular than most coincidences, it happened that at just about the time
+he finally fell asleep, a young lady at no great distance from him awoke
+to find her self thinking of him.
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+BEGINNING A TRUE FRIENDSHIP
+
+This was Miss Jane Baxter. She opened her eyes upon the new-born day,
+and her first thoughts were of Mr. Parcher. That is, he was already
+in her mind when she awoke, a circumstance to be accounted for on the
+ground that his conversation, during her quiet convalescence in his
+library, had so fascinated her that in all likelihood she had been
+dreaming of him. Then, too, Jane and Mr. Parcher had a bond in common,
+though Mr. Parcher did not know it. Not without result had William
+repeated Miss Pratt's inquiry in Jane's hearing: “Who IS that curious
+child?” Jane had preserved her sang-froid, but the words remained with
+her, for she was one of those who ponder and retain in silence.
+
+She thought almost exclusively of Mr. Parcher until breakfast-time, and
+resumed her thinking of him at intervals during the morning. Then, in
+the afternoon, a series of quiet events not unconnected with William's
+passion caused her to think of Mr. Parcher more poignantly than ever;
+nor was her mind diverted to a different channel by another confidential
+conversation with her mother. Who can say, then, that it was not by
+design that she came face to face with Mr. Parcher on the public highway
+at about five o'clock that afternoon? Everything urges the belief that
+she deliberately set herself in his path.
+
+Mr. Parcher was walking home from his office, and he walked slowly,
+gulping from time to time, as he thought of the inevitable evening
+before him. His was not a rugged constitution, and for the last
+fortnight or so he had feared that it was giving way altogether. Each
+evening he felt that he was growing weaker, and sometimes he thought
+piteously that he might go away for a while. He did not much care where,
+though what appealed to him most, curiously enough, was not the thought
+of the country, with the flowers and little birds; no, what allured him
+was the idea that perhaps he could find lodgment for a time in an Old
+People's Home, where the minimum age for inmates was about eighty.
+
+Walking more and more slowly, as he approached the dwelling he had once
+thought of as home, he became aware of a little girl in a checkered
+dress approaching him at a gait varied by the indifferent behavior of
+a barrel-hoop which she was disciplining with a stick held in her
+right hand. When the hoop behaved well, she came ahead rapidly; when it
+affected to be intoxicated, which was most often its whim, she zigzagged
+with it, and gained little ground. But all the while, and without
+reference to what went on concerning the hoop, she slowly and
+continuously fed herself (with her left hand) small, solemnly relished
+bites of a slice of bread-and-butter covered with apple sauce and
+powdered sugar.
+
+Mr. Parcher looked upon her, and he shivered slightly; for he knew her
+to be Willie Baxter's sister.
+
+Unaware of the emotion she produced in him, Jane checked her hoop and
+halted.
+
+“G'd afternoon, Mister Parcher,” she said, gravely.
+
+“Good afternoon,” he returned, without much spirit.
+
+Jane looked up at him trustfully and with a strange, unconscious
+fondness. “You goin' home now, Mr. Parcher?” she asked, turning to
+walk at his side. She had suspended the hoop over her left arm and
+transferred the bread-and-butter and apple sauce and sugar to her right,
+so that she could eat even more conveniently than before.
+
+“I suppose so,” he murmured.
+
+“My brother Willie's been at your house all afternoon,” she remarked.
+
+He repeated, “I suppose so,” but in a tone which combined the vocal
+tokens of misery and of hopeless animosity.
+
+“He just went home,” said Jane. “I was 'cross the street from your
+house, but I guess he didn't see me. He kept lookin' back at your house.
+Miss Pratt was on the porch.”
+
+“I suppose so.” This time it was a moan.
+
+Jane proceeded to give him some information. “My brother Willie isn't
+comin' back to your house to-night, but he doesn't know it yet.”
+
+“What!” exclaimed Mr. Parcher.
+
+“Willie isn't goin' to spend any more evenings at your house at all,”
+ said Jane, thoughtfully. “He isn't, but he doesn't know it yet.”
+
+Mr. Parcher gazed fixedly at the wonderful child, and something like
+a ray of sunshine flickered over his seamed and harried face. “Are you
+SURE he isn't?” he said. “What makes you think so?”
+
+“I know he isn't,” said demure Jane. “It's on account of somep'm I told
+mamma.”
+
+And upon this a gentle glow began to radiate throughout Mr. Parcher. A
+new feeling budded within his bosom; he was warmly attracted to Jane.
+She was evidently a child to be cherished, and particularly to be
+encouraged in the line of conduct she seemed to have adopted. He wished
+the Bullitt and Watson families each had a little girl like this. Still,
+if what she said of William proved true, much had been gained and life
+might be tolerable, after all.
+
+“He'll come in the afternoons, I guess,” said Jane. “But you aren't
+home then, Mr. Parcher, except late like you were that day of the
+Sunday-school class. It was on account of what you said that day. I told
+mamma.”
+
+“Told your mamma what?”
+
+“What you said.”
+
+Mr. Parcher's perplexity continued. “What about?”
+
+“About Willie. YOU know!” Jane smiled fraternally.
+
+“No, I don't.”
+
+“It was when I was layin' in the liberry, that day of the Sunday-school
+class,” Jane told him. “You an' Mrs. Parcher was talkin' in there about
+Miss Pratt an' Willie an' everything.”
+
+“Good heavens!” Mr. Parcher, summoning his memory, had placed the
+occasion and Jane together. “Did you HEAR all that?”
+
+“Yes.” Jane nodded. “I told mamma all what you said.”
+
+“Murder!”
+
+“Well,” said Jane, “I guess it's good I did, because look--that's the
+very reason mamma did somep'm so's he can't come any more except in
+daytime. I guess she thought Willie oughtn't to behave so's't you said
+so many things about him like that; so to-day she did somep'm, an' now
+he can't come any more to behave that loving way of Miss Pratt that you
+said you would be in the lunatic asylum if he didn't quit. But he hasn't
+found it out yet.”
+
+“Found what out, please?” asked Mr. Parcher, feeling more affection for
+Jane every moment.
+
+“He hasn't found out he can't come back to your house to-night; an' he
+can't come back to-morrow night, nor day-after-to-morrow night, nor--”
+
+“Is it because your mamma is going to tell him he can't?”
+
+“No, Mr. Parcher. Mamma says he's too old--an' she said she didn't like
+to, anyway. She just DID somep'm.”
+
+“What? What did she do?”
+
+“It's a secret,” said Jane. “I could tell you the first part of it--up
+to where the secret begins, I expect.”
+
+“Do!” Mr. Parcher urged.
+
+“Well, it's about somep'm Willie's been WEARIN',” Jane began, moving
+closer to him as they slowly walked onward. “I can't tell you what they
+were, because that's the secret--but he had 'em on him every evening
+when he came to see Miss Pratt, but they belong to papa, an' papa
+doesn't know a word about it. Well, one evening papa wanted to put 'em
+on, because he had a right to, Mr. Parcher, an' Willie didn't have any
+right to at all, but mamma couldn't find 'em; an' she rummidged an'
+rummidged 'most all next day an' pretty near every day since then an'
+never did find 'em, until don't you believe I saw Willie inside of 'em
+only last night! He was startin' over to your house to see Miss Pratt in
+'em! So I told mamma, an' she said it 'd haf to be a secret, so that's
+why I can't tell you what they were. Well, an' then this afternoon,
+early, I was with her, an' she said, long as I had told her the secret
+in the first place, I could come in Willie's room with her, an' we both
+were already in there anyway, 'cause I was kind of thinkin' maybe she'd
+go in there to look for 'em, Mr. Parcher--”
+
+“I see,” he said, admiringly. “I see.”
+
+“Well, they were under Willie's window-seat, all folded up; an' mamma
+said she wondered what she better do, an' she was worried because she
+didn't like to have Willie behave so's you an' Mrs. Parcher thought that
+way about him. So she said the--the secret--what Willie wears, you
+know, but they're really papa's an' aren't Willie's any more'n they're
+MINE--well, she said the secret was gettin' a little teeny bit too tight
+for papa, but she guessed they--I mean the secret--she said she guessed
+it was already pretty loose for Willie; so she wrapped it up, an' I
+went with her, an' we took 'em to a tailor, an' she told him to make 'em
+bigger, for a surprise for papa, 'cause then they'll fit him again, Mr.
+Parcher. She said he must make 'em a whole lot bigger. She said he must
+let 'em way, WAY out! So I guess Willie would look too funny in 'em
+after they're fixed; an' anyway, Mr. Parcher, the secret won't be home
+from the tailor's for two weeks, an' maybe by that time Miss Pratt'll be
+gone.”
+
+They had reached Mr. Parcher's gate; he halted and looked down fondly
+upon this child who seemed to have read his soul. “Do you honestly think
+so?” he asked.
+
+“Well, anyway, Mr. Parcher,” said Jane, “mamma said--well, she said
+she's sure Willie wouldn't come here in the evening any more when YOU're
+at home, Mr. Parcher--'cause after he'd been wearin' the secret every
+night this way he wouldn't like to come and not have the secret on.
+Mamma said the reason he would feel like that was because he was
+seventeen years old. An' she isn't goin' to tell him anything about it,
+Mr. Parcher. She said that's the best way.”
+
+Her new friend nodded and seemed to agree. “I suppose that's what you
+meant when you said he wasn't coming back but didn't know it yet?”
+
+“Yes, Mr. Parcher.”
+
+He rested an elbow upon the gate-post, gazing down with ever-increasing
+esteem. “Of course I know your last name,” he said, “but I'm afraid I've
+forgotten your other one.”
+
+“It's Jane.”
+
+“Jane,” said Mr. Parcher, “I should like to do something for you.”
+
+Jane looked down, and with eyes modestly lowered she swallowed the last
+fragment of the bread-and-butter and apple sauce and sugar which had
+been the constantly evanescent companion of their little walk together.
+She was not mercenary; she had sought no reward.
+
+“Well, I guess I must run home,” she said. And with one lift of her
+eyes to his and a shy laugh--laughter being a rare thing for Jane--she
+scampered quickly to the corner and was gone.
+
+But though she cared for no reward, the extraordinary restlessness of
+William, that evening, after dinner, must at least have been of great
+interest to her. He ascended to his own room directly from the table,
+but about twenty minutes later came down to the library, where Jane
+was sitting (her privilege until half after seven) with her father and
+mother. William looked from one to the other of his parents and seemed
+about to speak, but did not do so. Instead, he departed for the upper
+floor again and presently could be heard moving about energetically in
+various parts of the house, a remote thump finally indicating that he
+was doing something with a trunk in the attic.
+
+After that he came down to the library again and once more seemed about
+to speak, but did not. Then he went up-stairs again, and came down
+again, and he was still repeating this process when Jane's time-limit
+was reached and she repaired conscientiously to her little bed. Her
+mother came to hear her prayers and to turn out the light; and--when
+Mrs. Baxter had passed out into the hall, after that, Jane heard
+her speaking to William, who was now conducting what seemed to be
+excavations on a serious scale in his own room.
+
+“Oh, Willie, perhaps I didn't tell you, but--you remember I'd been
+missing papa's evening clothes and looking everywhere for days and
+days?”
+
+“Ye--es,” huskily from William.
+
+“Well, I found them! And where do you suppose I'd put them? I found
+them under your window-seat. Can you think of anything more absurd than
+putting them there and then forgetting it? I took them to the tailor's
+to have them let out. They were getting too tight for papa, but they'll
+be all right for him when the tailor sends them back.”
+
+What the stricken William gathered from this it is impossible to state
+with accuracy; probably he mixed some perplexity with his emotions.
+Certainly he was perplexed the following evening at dinner.
+
+Jane did not appear at the table. “Poor child! she's sick in bed,” Mrs.
+Baxter explained to her husband. “I was out, this afternoon, and she ate
+nearly ALL of a five-pound box of candy.”
+
+Both the sad-eyed William and his father were dumfounded. “Where on
+earth did she get a five-pound box of candy?” Mr. Baxter demanded.
+
+“I'm afraid Jane has begun her first affair,” said Mrs. Baxter. “A
+gentleman sent it to her.”
+
+“What gentleman?” gasped William.
+
+And in his mother's eyes, as they slowly came to rest on his in reply,
+he was aware of an inscrutability strongly remindful of that inscrutable
+look of Jane's.
+
+“Mr. Parcher,” she said, gently.
+
+
+
+
+XII
+
+PROGRESS OF THE SYMPTOMS
+
+Mrs. BAXTER'S little stroke of diplomacy had gone straight to the mark,
+she was a woman of insight. For every reason she was well content to
+have her son spend his evenings at home, though it cannot be claimed
+that his presence enlivened the household, his condition being one of
+strange, trancelike irascibility. Evening after evening passed, while
+he sat dreaming painfully of Mr. Parcher's porch; but in the daytime,
+though William did not literally make hay while the sun shone, he at
+least gathered a harvest somewhat resembling hay in general character.
+
+Thus:
+
+One afternoon, having locked his door to secure himself against
+intrusion on the part of his mother or Jane, William seated himself at
+his writing-table, and from a drawer therein took a small cardboard box,
+which he uncovered, placing the contents in view before him upon the
+table. (How meager, how chilling a word is “contents”!) In the box were:
+
+A faded rose.
+
+Several other faded roses, disintegrated into leaves.
+
+Three withered “four-leaf clovers.”
+
+A white ribbon still faintly smelling of violets.
+
+A small silver shoe-buckle.
+
+A large pearl button.
+
+A small pearl button.
+
+A tortoise-shell hair-pin.
+
+A cross-section from the heel of a small slipper.
+
+A stringy remnant, probably once an improvised wreath of daisies.
+
+Four or five withered dandelions.
+
+Other dried vegetation, of a nature now indistinguishable.
+
+William gazed reverently upon this junk of precious souvenirs; then
+from the inner pocket of his coat he brought forth, warm and crumpled,
+a lumpish cluster of red geranium blossoms, still aromatic and not quite
+dead, though naturally, after three hours of such intimate confinement,
+they wore an unmistakable look of suffering. With a tenderness which
+his family had never observed in him since that piteous day in his fifth
+year when he tried to mend his broken doll, William laid the geranium
+blossoms in the cardboard box among the botanical and other relics.
+
+His gentle eyes showed what the treasures meant to him, and yet it
+was strange that they should have meant so much, because the source of
+supply was not more than a quarter of a mile distant, and practically
+inexhaustible. Miss Pratt had now been a visitor at the Parchers'
+for something less than five weeks, but she had made no mention of
+prospective departure, and there was every reason to suppose that she
+meant to remain all summer. And as any foliage or anything whatever that
+she touched, or that touched her, was thenceforth suitable for William's
+museum, there appeared to be some probability that autumn might see it
+so enlarged as to lack that rarity in the component items which is the
+underlying value of most collections.
+
+William's writing-table was beside an open window, through which came an
+insistent whirring, unagreeable to his mood; and, looking down upon the
+sunny lawn, he beheld three lowly creatures. One was Genesis; he was
+cutting the grass. Another was Clematis; he had assumed a transient
+attitude, curiously triangular, in order to scratch his ear, the while
+his anxious eyes never wavered from the third creature.
+
+This was Jane. In one hand she held a little stack of sugar-sprinkled
+wafers, which she slowly but steadily depleted, unconscious of the
+increasingly earnest protest, at last nearing agony, in the eyes of
+Clematis. Wearing unaccustomed garments of fashion and festivity,
+Jane stood, in speckless, starchy white and a blue sash, watching
+the lawn-mower spout showers of grass as the powerful Genesis easily
+propelled it along over lapping lanes, back and forth, across the yard.
+
+From a height of illimitable loftiness the owner of the cardboard
+treasury looked down upon the squat commonplaceness of those three
+lives. The condition of Jane and Genesis and Clematis seemed almost
+laughably pitiable to him, the more so because they were unaware of it.
+They breathed not the starry air that William breathed, but what did it
+matter to them? The wretched things did not even know that they meant
+nothing to Miss Pratt!
+
+Clematis found his ear too pliable for any great solace from his foot,
+but he was not disappointed; he had expected little, and his thoughts
+were elsewhere. Rising, he permitted his nose to follow his troubled
+eyes, with the result that it touched the rim of the last wafer in
+Jane's external possession.
+
+This incident annoyed William. “Look there!” he called from the window.
+“You mean to eat that cake after the dog's had his face on it?”
+
+Jane remained placid. “It wasn't his face.”
+
+“Well, if it wasn't his face, I'd like to know what--”
+
+“It wasn't his face,” Jane repeated. “It was his nose. It wasn't all of
+his nose touched it, either. It was only a little outside piece of his
+nose.”
+
+“Well, are you going to eat that cake, I ask you?”
+
+Jane broke off a small bit of the wafer. She gave the bit to Clematis
+and slowly ate what remained, continuing to watch Genesis and apparently
+unconscious of the scorching gaze from the window.
+
+“I never saw anything as disgusting as long as I've lived!” William
+announced. “I wouldn't 'a' believed it if anybody'd told me a sister of
+mine would eat after--”
+
+“I didn't,” said Jane. “I like Clematis, anyway.”
+
+“Ye gods!” her brother cried. “Do you think that makes it any better?
+And, BY the WAY,” he continued, in a tone of even greater severity, “I'd
+a like to know where you got those cakes. Where'd you get 'em, I'd just
+like to inquire?”
+
+“In the pantry.” Jane turned and moved toward the house. “I'm goin' in
+for some more, now.”
+
+William uttered a cry; these little cakes were sacred. His mother,
+growing curious to meet a visiting lady of whom (so to speak) she had
+heard much and thought more, had asked May Parcher to bring her guest
+for iced tea, that afternoon. A few others of congenial age had been
+invited: there was to be a small matinee, in fact, for the honor and
+pleasure of the son of the house, and the cakes of Jane's onslaught
+were part of Mrs. Baxter's preparations. There was no telling where
+Jane would stop; it was conceivable that Miss Pratt herself might go
+waferless.
+
+William returned the cardboard box to its drawer with reverent haste;
+then, increasing the haste, but dropping the reverence, he hied himself
+to the pantry with such advantage of longer legs that within the minute
+he and the wafers appeared in conjunction before his mother, who was
+arranging fruit and flowers upon a table in the “living-room.”
+
+William entered in the stained-glass attitude of one bearing gifts.
+Overhead, both hands supported a tin pan, well laden with small
+cakes and wafers, for which Jane was silently but repeatedly and
+systematically jumping. Even under the stress of these efforts her
+expression was cool and collected; she maintained the self-possession
+that was characteristic of her.
+
+Not so with William; his cheeks were flushed, his eyes indignant. “You
+see what this child is doing?” he demanded. “Are you going to let her
+ruin everything?”
+
+“Ruin?” Mrs. Baxter repeated, absently, refreshing with fair water a
+bowl of flowers upon the table. “Ruin?”
+
+“Yes, ruin!” William was hotly emphatic, “If you don't do something with
+her it 'll all be ruined before Miss Pr-- before they even get here!”
+
+Mrs. Baxter laughed. “Set the pan down, Willie.”
+
+“Set it DOWN?” he echoed, incredulously “With that child in the room and
+grabbing like--”
+
+“There!” Mrs. Baxter took the pan from him, placed it upon a chair, and
+with the utmost coolness selected five wafers and gave them to Jane.
+“I'd already promised her she could have five more. You know the doctor
+said Jane's digestion was the finest he'd ever misunderstood. They won't
+hurt her at all, Willie.”
+
+This deliberate misinterpretation of his motives made it difficult for
+William to speak. “Do YOU think,” he began, hoarsely, “do you THINK--”
+
+“They're so small, too,” Mrs. Baxter went on. “SHE probably wouldn't be
+sick if she ate them all.”
+
+“My heavens!” he burst forth. “Do you think I was worrying about--” He
+broke off, unable to express himself save by a few gestures of despair.
+Again finding his voice, and a great deal of it, he demanded: “Do you
+realize that Miss PRATT will be here within less than half an hour? What
+do you suppose she'd think of the people of this town if she was invited
+out, expecting decent treatment, and found two-thirds of the cakes eaten
+up before she got there, and what was left of 'em all mauled and pawed
+over and crummy and chewed-up lookin' from some wretched CHILD?” Here
+William became oratorical, but not with marked effect, since Jane
+regarded him with unmoved eyes, while Mrs. Baxter continued to be mildly
+preoccupied in arranging the table. In fact, throughout this episode
+in controversy the ladies' party had not only the numerical but the
+emotional advantage. Obviously, the approach of Miss Pratt was not to
+them what it was to William. “I tell you,” he declaimed;--“yes, I tell
+you that it wouldn't take much of this kind of thing to make Miss Pratt
+think the people of this town were--well, it wouldn't take much to make
+her think the people of this town hadn't learned much of how to
+behave in society and were pretty uncilivized!” He corrected himself.
+“Uncivilized! And to think Miss Pratt has to find that out in MY house!
+To think--”
+
+“Now, Willie,” said Mrs. Baxter, gently, “you'd better go up and brush
+your hair again before your friends come. You mustn't let yourself get
+so excited.”
+
+“'Excited!'” he cried, incredulously. “Do you think I'm EXCITED?
+Ye gods!” He smote his hands together and, in his despair of her
+intelligence, would have flung himself down upon a chair, but was
+arrested half-way by simultaneous loud outcries from his mother and
+Jane.
+
+“Don't sit on the CAKES!” they both screamed.
+
+Saving himself and the pan of wafers by a supreme contortion at the last
+instant, William decided to remain upon his feet. “What do I care for
+the cakes?” he demanded, contemptuously, beginning to pace the floor.
+“It's the question of principle I'm talking about! Do you think it's
+right to give the people of this town a poor name when strangers like
+Miss PRATT come to vis--”
+
+“Willie!” His mother looked at him hopelessly. “Do go and brush your
+hair. If you could see how you've tousled it you would.”
+
+He gave her a dazed glance and strode from the room.
+
+Jane looked after him placidly. “Didn't he talk funny!” she murmured.
+
+“Yes, dear,” said Mrs. Baxter. She shook her head and uttered the
+enigmatic words, “They do.”
+
+“I mean Willie, mamma,” said Jane. “If it's anything about Miss Pratt.
+he always talks awful funny. Don't you think Willie talks awful funny if
+it's anything about Miss Pratt, mamma?”
+
+“Yes, but--”
+
+“What, mamma?” Jane asked as her mother paused.
+
+“Well--it happens. People do get like that at his age, Jane.”
+
+“Does everybody?”
+
+“No, I suppose not everybody. Just some.”
+
+Jane's interest was roused. “Well, do those that do, mamma,” she
+inquired, “do they all act like Willie?”
+
+“No,” said Mrs. Baxter. “That's the trouble; you can't tell what's
+coming.”
+
+Jane nodded. “I think I know,” she said. “You mean Willie--”
+
+William himself interrupted her. He returned violently to the doorway,
+his hair still tousled, and, standing upon the threshold, said, sternly:
+
+“What is that child wearing her best dress for?”
+
+“Willie!” Mrs. Baxter cried. “Go brush your hair!”
+
+“I wish to know what that child is all dressed up for?” he insisted.
+
+“To please you! Don't you want her to look her best at your tea?”
+
+“I thought that was it!” he cried, and upon this confirmation of his
+worst fears he did increased violence to his rumpled hair. “I suspected
+it, but I wouldn't 'a' believed it! You mean to let this child--you
+mean to let--” Here his agitation affected his throat and his utterance
+became clouded. A few detached phrases fell from him: “--Invite MY
+friends--children's party--ye gods!--think Miss Pratt plays dolls--”
+
+“Jane will be very good,” his mother said. “I shouldn't think of not
+having her, Willie, and you needn't bother about your friends; they'll
+be very glad to see her. They all know her, except Miss Pratt, perhaps,
+and--” Mrs. Baxter paused; then she asked, absently: “By the way,
+haven't I heard somewhere that she likes pretending to be a little girl,
+herself?”
+
+“WHAT!”
+
+“Yes,” said Mrs. Baxter, remaining calm; “I'm sure I've heard somewhere
+that she likes to talk 'baby-talk.'”
+
+Upon this a tremor passed over William, after which he became rigid.
+“You ask a lady to your house,” he began, “and even before she gets
+here, before you've even seen her, you pass judgment upon one of
+the--one of the noblest--”
+
+“Good gracious! _I_ haven't 'passed judgment.' If she does talk
+'baby-talk,' I imagine she does it very prettily, and I'm sure I've
+no objection. And if she does do it, why should you be insulted by my
+mentioning it?”
+
+“It was the way you said it,” he informed her, icily.
+
+“Good gracious! I just said it!” Mrs. Baxter laughed, and then,
+probably a little out of patience with him, she gave way to that innate
+mischievousness in such affairs which is not unknown to her sex. “You
+see, Willie, if she pretends to be a cunning little girl, it will be
+helpful to Jane to listen and learn how.”
+
+William uttered a cry; he knew that he was struck, but he was not sure
+how or where. He was left with a blank mind and no repartee. Again he
+dashed from the room.
+
+In the hall, near the open front door, he came to a sudden halt,
+and Mrs. Baxter and Jane heard him calling loudly to the industrious
+Genesis:
+
+“Here! You go cut the grass in the back yard, and for Heaven's sake,
+take that dog with you!”
+
+“Grass awready cut roun' back,” responded the amiable voice of Genesis,
+while the lawnmower ceased not to whir. “Cut all 'at back yod 's
+mawnin'.”
+
+“Well, you can't cut the front yard now. Go around in the back yard and
+take that dog with you.”
+
+“Nemmine 'bout 'at back yod! Ole Clem ain' trouble nobody.”
+
+“You hear what I tell you?” William shouted. “You do what I say and you
+do it quick!”
+
+Genesis laughed gaily. “I got my grass to cut!”
+
+“You decline to do what I command you?” William roared.
+
+“Yes, indeedy! Who pay me my wages? 'At's MY boss. You' ma say,
+'Genesis, you git all 'at lawn mowed b'fo' sundown.' No, suh! Nee'n'
+was'e you' bref on me, 'cause I'm got all MY time good an' took up!”
+
+Once more William presented himself fatefully to his mother and Jane.
+“May I just kindly ask you to look out in the front yard?”
+
+“I'm familiar with it, Willie,” Mrs. Baxter returned, a little wearily.
+
+“I mean I want you to look at Genesis.”
+
+“I'm familiar with his appearance, too,” she said. “Why in the world do
+you mind his cutting the grass?”
+
+William groaned. “Do you honestly want guests coming to this house
+to see that awful old darky out there and know that HE'S the kind of
+servants we employ? Ye gods!”
+
+“Why, Genesis is just a neighborhood outdoors darky, Willie; he works
+for half a dozen families besides us. Everybody in this part of town
+knows him.”
+
+“Yes,” he cried, “but a lady that didn't live here wouldn't. Ye gods!
+What do you suppose she WOULD think? You know what he's got on!”
+
+“It's a sort of sleeveless jersey he wears, Willie, I think.”
+
+“No, you DON'T think that!” he cried, with great bitterness. “You know
+it's not a jersey! You know perfectly well what it is, and yet you
+expect to keep him out there when--when one of the one of the nobl--when
+my friends arrive! And they'll think that's our DOG out there, won't
+they? When intelligent people come to a house and see a dog sitting out
+in front, they think it's the family in the house's dog, don't they?”
+ William's condition becoming more and more disordered, he paced the
+room, while his agony rose to a climax. “Ye gods! What do you think Miss
+Pratt will think of the people of this town, when she's invited to meet
+a few of my friends and the first thing she sees is a nigger in his
+undershirt? What 'll she think when she finds that child's eaten up half
+the food, and the people have to explain that the dog in the front
+yard belongs to the darky--” He interrupted himself with a groan: “And
+prob'ly she wouldn't believe it. Anybody'd SAY they didn't own a dog
+like that! And that's what you want her to see, before she even gets
+inside the house! Instead of a regular gardener in livery like we ought
+to have, and a bulldog or a good Airedale or a fox-hound, or something,
+the first things you want intelligent people from out of town to see are
+that awful old darky and his mongrel scratchin' fleas and like as not
+lettin' 'em get on other people! THAT'd be nice, wouldn't it? Go out to
+tea expecting decent treatment and get fl--”
+
+“WILLIE!”
+
+Mrs. Baxter managed to obtain his attention. “If you'll go and brush
+your hair I'll send Genesis and Clematis away for the rest of the
+afternoon. And then if you 'll sit down quietly and try to keep cool
+until your friends get here, I'll--”
+
+“'Quietly'!” he echoed, shaking his head over this mystery. “I'm the
+only one that IS quiet around here. Things 'd be in a fine condition to
+receive guests if I didn't keep pretty cool, I guess!”
+
+“There, there,” she said, soothingly. “Go and brush your hair. And
+change your collar, Willie; it's all wilted. I'll send Genesis away.”
+
+His wandering eye failed to meet hers with any intelligence. “Collar,”
+ he muttered, as if in soliloquy. “Collar.”
+
+“Change it!” said Mrs. Baxter, raising her voice. “It's WILTED.”
+
+He departed in a dazed manner.
+
+Passing through the hall, he paused abruptly, his eye having fallen
+with sudden disapproval upon a large, heavily framed, glass-covered
+engraving, “The Battle of Gettysburg,” which hung upon the wall, near
+the front door. Undeniably, it was a picture feeble in decorative
+quality; no doubt, too, William was right in thinking it as unworthy of
+Miss Pratt, as were Jane and Genesis and Clematis. He felt that she must
+never see it, especially as the frame had been chipped and had a corner
+broken, but it was more pleasantly effective where he found it than
+where (in his nervousness) he left it. A few hasty jerks snapped the
+elderly green cords by which it was suspended; then he laid the picture
+upon the floor and with his handkerchief made a curious labyrinth
+of avenues in the large oblong area of fine dust which this removal
+disclosed upon the wall. Pausing to wipe his hot brow with the same
+implement, he remembered that some one had made allusions to his collar
+and hair, whereupon he sprang to the stairs, mounted two at a time,
+rushed into his own room, and confronted his streaked image in the
+mirror.
+
+
+
+
+XIII
+
+AT HOME TO HIS FRIENDS
+
+After ablutions, he found his wet hair plastic, and easily obtained the
+long, even sweep backward from the brow, lacking which no male person,
+unless bald, fulfilled his definition of a man of the world. But
+there ensued a period of vehemence and activity caused by a bent
+collar-button, which went on strike with a desperation that was
+downright savage. The day was warm and William was warmer; moisture
+bedewed him afresh. Belated victory no sooner arrived than he perceived
+a fatal dimpling of the new collar, and was forced to begin the
+operation of exchanging it for a successor. Another exchange, however,
+he unfortunately forgot to make: the handkerchief with which he had
+wiped the wall remained in his pocket.
+
+Voices from below, making polite laughter, warned him that already some
+of the bidden party had arrived, and, as he completed the fastening of
+his third consecutive collar, an ecstasy of sound reached him through
+the open window--and then, Oh then! his breath behaved in an abnormal
+manner and he began to tremble. It was the voice of Miss Pratt, no less!
+
+He stopped for one heart-struck look from his casement. All in fluffy
+white and heliotrope she was--a blonde rapture floating over the
+sidewalk toward William's front gate. Her little white cottony dog, with
+a heliotrope ribbon round his neck, bobbed his head over her cuddling
+arm; a heliotrope parasol shielded her infinitesimally from the amorous
+sun. Poor William!
+
+Two youths entirely in William's condition of heart accompanied the
+glamorous girl and hung upon her rose-leaf lips, while Miss Parcher
+appeared dimly upon the outskirts of the group, the well-known penalty
+for hostesses who entertain such radiance. Probably it serves them
+right.
+
+To William's reddening ear Miss Pratt's voice came clearly as the
+chiming of tiny bells, for she spoke whimsically to her little dog in
+that tinkling childlike fashion which was part of the spell she cast.
+
+“Darlin' Flopit,” she said, “wake up! Oo tummin' to tea-potty wiz all de
+drowed-ups. P'eshus Flopit, wake up!”
+
+Dizzy with enchantment, half suffocated, his heart melting within him,
+William turned from the angelic sounds and fairy vision of the window.
+He ran out of the room, and plunged down the front stairs. And the next
+moment the crash of breaking glass and the loud thump-bump of a heavily
+falling human body resounded through the house.
+
+Mrs. Baxter, alarmed, quickly excused herself from the tea-table, round
+which were gathered four or five young people, and hastened to the front
+hall, followed by Jane. Through the open door were seen Miss Pratt, Miss
+Parcher, Mr. Johnnie Watson and Mr. Joe Bullitt coming leisurely up the
+sunny front walk, laughing and unaware of the catastrophe which had just
+occurred within the shadows of the portal. And at a little distance from
+the foot of the stairs William was seated upon the prostrate “Battle of
+Gettysburg.”
+
+“It slid,” he said, hoarsely. “I carried it upstairs with me”--he
+believed this--“and somebody brought it down and left it lying flat on
+the floor by the bottom step on purpose to trip me! I stepped on it and
+it slid.” He was in a state of shock: it seemed important to impress
+upon his mother the fact that the picture had not remained firmly in
+place when he stepped upon it. “It SLID, I tell you!”
+
+“Get up, Willie!” she urged, under her breath, and as he summoned
+enough presence of mind to obey, she beheld ruins other than the wrecked
+engraving. She stifled a cry. “WILLIE! Did the glass cut you?”
+
+He felt himself. “No'm.”
+
+“It did your trousers! You'll have to change them. Hurry!”
+
+Some of William's normal faculties were restored to him by one hasty
+glance at the back of his left leg, which had a dismantled appearance. A
+long blue strip of cloth hung there, with white showing underneath.
+
+“HURRY!” said Mrs. Baxter. And hastily gathering some fragments of
+glass, she dropped them upon the engraving, pushed it out of the way,
+and went forward to greet Miss Pratt and her attendants.
+
+As for William, he did not even pause to close his mouth, but fled with
+it open. Upward he sped, unseen, and came to a breathless halt upon the
+landing at the top of the stairs.
+
+As it were in a dream he heard his mother's hospitable greetings at the
+door, and then the little party lingered in the hall, detained by Miss
+Pratt's discovery of Jane.
+
+“Oh, tweetums tootums ickle dirl!” he heard the ravishing voice exclaim.
+“Oh, tootums ickle blue sash!”
+
+“It cost a dollar and eighty-nine cents,” said Jane. “Willie sat on the
+cakes.”
+
+“Oh no, he didn't,” Mrs. Baxter laughed. “He didn't QUITE!”
+
+“He had to go up-stairs,” said Jane. And as the stricken listener above
+smote his forehead, she added placidly, “He tore a hole in his clo'es.”
+
+She seemed about to furnish details, her mood being communicative, but
+Mrs. Baxter led the way into the “living-room”; the hall was vacated,
+and only the murmur of voices and laughter reached William. What
+descriptive information Jane may have added was spared his hearing,
+which was a mercy.
+
+And yet it may be that he could not have felt worse than he did; for
+there IS nothing worse than to be seventeen and to hear one of the
+Noblest girls in the world told by a little child that you sat on the
+cakes and tore a hole in your clo'es.
+
+William leaned upon the banister railing and thought thoughts about
+Jane. For several long, seething moments he thought of her exclusively.
+Then, spurred by the loud laughter of rivals and the agony of knowing
+that even in his own house they were monopolizing the attention of one
+of the Noblest, he hastened into his own, room and took account of his
+reverses.
+
+Standing with his back to the mirror, he obtained over his shoulder
+a view of his trousers which caused him to break out in a fresh
+perspiration. Again he wiped his forehead with the handkerchief, and the
+result was instantly visible in the mirror.
+
+The air thickened with sounds of frenzy, followed by a torrential roar
+and great sputterings in a bath-room, which tumult subsiding, William
+returned at a tragic gallop to his room and, having removed his
+trousers, began a feverish examination of the garments hanging in a
+clothes-closet. There were two pairs of flannel trousers which would
+probably again be white and possible, when cleaned and pressed, but a
+glance showed that until then they were not to be considered as even
+the last resort of desperation. Beside them hung his “last year's summer
+suit” of light gray.
+
+Feverishly he brought it forth, threw off his coat, and then--deflected
+by another glance at the mirror--began to change his collar again.
+This was obviously necessary, and to quicken the process he decided
+to straighten the bent collar-button. Using a shoe-horn as a lever,
+he succeeded in bringing the little cap or head of the button into its
+proper plane, but, unfortunately, his final effort dislodged the cap
+from the rod between it and the base, and it flew off malignantly
+into space. Here was a calamity; few things are more useless than a
+decapitated collar-button, and William had no other. He had made
+sure that it was his last before he put it on, that day; also he
+had ascertained that there was none in, on, or about his father's
+dressing-table. Finally, in the possession of neither William nor his
+father was there a shirt with an indigenous collar.
+
+For decades, collar-buttons have been on the hand-me-down shelves of
+humor; it is a mistake in the catalogue. They belong to pathos. They
+have done harm in the world, and there have been collar-buttons that
+failed when the destinies of families hung upon them. There have
+been collar-buttons that thwarted proper matings. There have been
+collar-buttons that bore last hopes, and, falling to the floor,
+NEVER were found! William's broken collar-button was really the only
+collar-button in the house, except such as were engaged in serving his
+male guests below.
+
+At first he did not realize the extent of his misfortune. How could he?
+Fate is always expected to deal its great blows in the grand manner.
+But our expectations are fustian spangled with pinchbeck; we look for
+tragedy to be theatrical. Meanwhile, every day before our eyes, fate
+works on, employing for its instruments the infinitesimal, the ignoble
+and the petty--in a word, collar-buttons.
+
+Of course William searched his dressing-table and his father's, although
+he had been thoroughly over both once before that day. Next he went
+through most of his mother's and Jane's accessories to the
+toilette; through trinket-boxes, glove-boxes, hairpin-boxes,
+handkerchief-cases--even through sewing-baskets. Utterly he convinced
+himself that ladies not only use no collar-buttons, but also never pick
+them up and put them away among their own belongings. How much time he
+consumed in this search is difficult to reckon;--it is almost impossible
+to believe that there is absolutely no collar-button in a house.
+
+And what William's state of mind had become is matter for exorbitant
+conjecture. Jane, arriving at his locked door upon an errand, was bidden
+by a thick, unnatural voice to depart.
+
+“Mamma says, 'What in mercy's name is the matter?'” Jane called. “She
+whispered to me, 'Go an' see what in mercy's name is the matter with
+Willie; an' if the glass cut him, after all; an' why don't he come
+down'; an' why don't you, Willie? We're all havin' the nicest time!”
+
+“You g'way!” said the strange voice within the room. “G'way!”
+
+“Well, did the glass cut you?”
+
+“No! Keep quiet! G'way!”
+
+“Well, are you EVER comin' down to your party?”
+
+“Yes, I am! G'way!”
+
+Jane obeyed, and William somehow completed the task upon which he was
+engaged. Genius had burst forth from his despair; necessity had become
+a mother again, and William's collar was in place. It was tied there.
+Under his necktie was a piece of string.
+
+He had lost count of time, but he was frantically aware of its passage;
+agony was in the thought of so many rich moments frittered away;
+up-stairs, while Joe Bullitt and Johnnie Watson made hay below. And
+there was another spur to haste in his fear that the behavior of Mrs.
+Baxter might not be all that the guest of honor would naturally expect
+of William's mother. As for Jane, his mind filled with dread; shivers
+passed over him at intervals.
+
+It was a dismal thing to appear at a “party” (and that his own) in “last
+summer's suit,” but when he had hastily put it on and faced the mirror,
+he felt a little better--for three or four seconds. Then he turned to
+see how the back of it looked.
+
+And collapsed in a chair, moaning.
+
+
+
+
+XIV
+
+TIME DOES FLY
+
+He remembered now what he had been too hurried to remember earlier. He
+had worn these clothes on the previous Saturday, and, returning from a
+glorified walk with Miss Pratt, he had demonstrated a fact to which his
+near-demolition of the wafers, this afternoon, was additional testimony.
+This fact, roughly stated, is that a person of seventeen, in love, is
+liable to sit down anywhere. William had dreamily seated himself upon
+a tabouret in the library, without noticing that Jane had left her open
+paint-box there. Jane had just been painting sunsets; naturally all the
+little blocks of color were wet, and the effect upon William's pale-gray
+trousers was marvelous--far beyond the capacity of his coat to conceal.
+Collar-buttons and children's paint-boxes--those are the trolls that lie
+in wait!
+
+The gray clothes and the flannel trousers had been destined for the
+professional cleaner, and William, rousing himself from a brief stupor,
+made a piteous effort to substitute himself for that expert so far
+as the gray trousers were concerned. He divested himself of them and
+brought water, towels, bath-soap, and a rubber bath-sponge to the bright
+light of his window; and; there, with touching courage and persistence,
+he tried to scrub the paint out of the cloth. He obtained cloud studies
+and marines which would have interested a Post-Impressionist, but upon
+trousers they seemed out of place.
+
+There came one seeking and calling him again; raps sounded upon the
+door, which he had not forgotten to lock.
+
+“Willie,” said a serious voice, “mamma wants to know what in mercy's
+name is the matter! She wants to know if you know for mercy's name what
+time it is! She wants to know what in mercy's name you think they're all
+goin' to think! She says--”
+
+“G'WAY!”
+
+“Well, she said I had to find out what in mercy's name you're doin',
+Willie.”
+
+“You tell her,” he shouted, hoarsely--“tell her I'm playin' dominoes!
+What's she THINK I'm doin'?”
+
+“I guess”--Jane paused, evidently to complete the swallowing of
+something--“I guess she thinks you're goin' crazy. I don't like Miss
+Pratt, but she lets me play with that little dog. It's name's Flopit!”
+
+“You go 'way from that door and stop bothering me,” said William. “I got
+enough on my mind!”
+
+“Mamma looks at Miss Pratt,” Jane remarked. “Miss Pratt puts cakes in
+that Mr. Bullitt's mouth and Johnnie Watson's mouth, too. She's awful.”
+
+William made it plain that these bulletins from the party found no favor
+with him. He bellowed, “If you don't get away from that DOOR--”
+
+Jane was interested in the conversation, but felt that it would be
+better to return to the refreshment-table. There she made use of her own
+conception of a whisper to place before her mother a report which was
+considered interesting and even curious by every one present; though,
+such was the courtesy of the little assembly, there was a general
+pretense of not hearing.
+
+“I told him,” thus whispered Jane, “an' he said, 'You g'way from that
+door or I'll do somep'm'--he didn't say what, mamma. He said, 'What you
+think I'm doin'? I'm playin' dominoes.' He didn't mean he WAS playin'
+dominoes, mamma. He just said he was. I think maybe he was just lookin'
+in the lookin'-glass some more.”
+
+Mrs. Baxter was becoming embarrassed. She resolved to go to William's
+room herself at the first opportunity; but for some time her
+conscientiousness as a hostess continued to occupy her at the table,
+and then, when she would have gone, Miss Pratt detained her by a roguish
+appeal to make Mr. Bullitt and Mr. Watson behave. Both refused all
+nourishment except such as was placed in their mouths by the delicate
+hand of one of the Noblest, and the latter said that really she wanted
+to eat a little tweetie now and then herself, and not to spend her whole
+time feeding the Men. For Miss Pratt had the same playfulness with older
+people that she had with those of her own age; and she elaborated her
+pretended quarrel with the two young gentlemen, taking others of the
+dazzled company into her confidence about it, and insisting upon “Mamma
+Batster's” acting formally as judge to settle the difficulty. However,
+having thus arranged matters, Miss Pratt did not resign the center of
+interest, but herself proposed a compromise: she would continue to feed
+Mr. Bullitt and Mr. Watson “every other tweetie”--that is, each must
+agree to eat a cake “all by him own self,” after every cake fed to him.
+So the comedietta went on, to the running accompaniment of laughter,
+with Mr. Bullitt and Mr. Watson swept by such gusts of adoration they
+were like to perish where they sat. But Mrs. Baxter's smiling approval
+was beginning to be painful to the muscles of her face, for it was
+hypocritical. And if William had known her thoughts about one of the
+Noblest, he could only have attributed them to that demon of groundless
+prejudice which besets all females, but most particularly and
+outrageously the mothers and sisters of Men.
+
+A colored serving-maid entered with a laden tray, and, having disposed
+of its freight of bon-bons among the guests, spoke to Mrs. Baxter in a
+low voice.
+
+“Could you manage step in the back hall a minute, please, ma'am?”
+
+Mrs. Baxter managed and, having closed the door upon the laughing
+voices, asked, quickly--“What is it, Adelia? Have you seen Mr. William?
+Do you know why he doesn't come down?”
+
+“Yes'm,” said Adelia. “He gone mighty near out his head, Miz Baxter.”
+
+“What!”
+
+“Yes'm. He come floppin' down the back stairs in his baf-robe li'l'
+while ago. He jes' gone up again. He 'ain't got no britches, Miz
+Baxter.”
+
+“No WHAT?”
+
+“No'm,” said Adelia. “He 'ain't got no britches at all.”
+
+A statement of this kind is startling under Almost any circumstances,
+and it is unusually so when made in reference to a person for whom a
+party is being given. Therefore it was not unreasonable of Mrs. Baxter
+to lose her breath.
+
+“But--it can't BE!” she gasped. “He has! He has plenty!”
+
+“No'm, he 'ain't,” Adelia assured her. “An' he's carryin' on so I don't
+scarcely think he knows much what he's doin', Miz Baxter. He brung down
+some gray britches to the kitchen to see if I couldn' press an' clean
+'em right quick: they was the ones Miss Jane, when she's paintin' all
+them sunsets, lef' her paint-box open, an' one them sunsets got on these
+here gray britches, Miz Baxter; an' hones'ly, Miz Baxter, he's fixed 'em
+in a condishum, tryin' to git that paint out, I don't believe it 'll be
+no use sendin' 'em to the cleaner. 'Clean 'em an' press 'em QUICK?' I
+says. 'I couldn' clean 'em by Resurreckshum, let alone pressin' 'em!'
+No'm! Well, he had his blue britches, too, but they's so ripped an' tore
+an' kind o' shredded away in one place, the cook she jes' hollered when
+he spread 'em out, an' he didn' even ast me could I mend 'em. An' he had
+two pairs o' them white flannen britches, but hones'ly, Miz Baxter,
+I don't scarcely think Genesis would wear 'em, the way they is now!
+'Well,' I says, 'ain't but one thing lef' to do _I_ can see,' I says.
+'Why don't you go put on that nice black suit you had las' winter?'”
+
+“Of course!” Mrs. Baxter cried. “I'll go and--”
+
+“No'm,” said Adelia. “You don' need to. He's up in the attic now,
+r'arin' roun' 'mongs' them trunks, but seem to me like I remember you
+put that suit away under the heavy blankets in that big cedar ches' with
+the padlock. If you jes' tell me where is the key, I take it up to him.”
+
+“Under the bureau in the spare room,” said Mrs. Baxter. “HURRY!”
+
+Adelia hurried; and, fifteen minutes later, William, for the last time
+that afternoon, surveyed himself in his mirror. His face showed the
+strain that had been upon him and under which he still labored; the
+black suit was a map of creases, and William was perspiring more freely
+than ever under the heavy garments. But at least he was clothed.
+
+He emptied his pockets, disgorging upon the floor a multitude of small
+white spheres, like marbles. Then, as he stepped out into the hall, he
+discovered that their odor still remained about him; so he stopped
+and carefully turned his pockets inside out, one after the other, but
+finding that he still smelled vehemently of the “moth-balls,” though not
+one remained upon him, he went to his mother's room and sprinkled violet
+toilet-water upon his chest and shoulders. He disliked such odors, but
+that left by the moth-balls was intolerable, and, laying hands upon a
+canister labeled “Hyacinth,” he contrived to pour a quantity of scented
+powder inside his collar, thence to be distributed by the force of
+gravity so far as his dampness permitted.
+
+Lo, William was now ready to go to his party! Moist, wilted, smelling
+indeed strangely, he was ready.
+
+But when he reached the foot of the stairs he discovered that there was
+one thing more to be done. Indignation seized him, and also a creeping
+fear chilled his spine, as he beheld a lurking shape upon the porch,
+stealthily moving toward the open door. It was the lowly Clematis, dog
+unto Genesis.
+
+William instantly divined the purpose of Clematis. It was debatable
+whether Clematis had remained upon the premises after the departure of
+Genesis, or had lately returned thither upon some errand of his own,
+but one thing was certain, and the manner of Clematis--his attitude,
+his every look, his every gesture--made it as clear as day. Clematis
+had discovered, by one means or another, the presence of Flopit in the
+house, and had determined to see him personally.
+
+Clematis wore his most misleading expression; a stranger would have
+thought him shy and easily turned from his purpose--but William was not
+deceived. He knew that if Clematis meant to see Flopit, a strong will,
+a ready brain, and stern action were needed to thwart him; but at all
+costs that meeting must be prevented. Things had been awful enough,
+without that!
+
+He was well aware that Clematis could not be driven away, except
+temporarily, for nothing was further fixed upon Clematis than his habit
+of retiring under pressure, only to return and return again. True, the
+door could have been shut in the intruder's face, but he would have
+sought other entrance with possible success, or, failing that, would
+have awaited in the front yard the dispersal of the guests and Flopit's
+consequent emerging. This was a contretemps not to be endured.
+
+The door of the living-room was closed, muffling festal noises and
+permitting safe passage through the hall. William cast a hunted look
+over his shoulder; then he approached Clematis.
+
+“Good ole doggie,” he said, huskily. “Hyuh, Clem! Hyuh, Clem!”
+
+Clematis moved sidelong, retreating with his head low and his tail
+denoting anxious thoughts.
+
+“Hyuh, Clem!” said William, trying, with only fair success, to keep his
+voice from sounding venomous. “Hyuh, Clem!”
+
+Clematis continued his deprecatory retreat.
+
+Thereupon William essayed a ruse--he pretended to nibble at something,
+and then extended his hand as if it held forth a gift of food. “Look,
+Clem,” he said. “Yum-yum! Meat, Clem! Good meat!”
+
+For once Clematis was half credulous. He did not advance, but he
+elongated himself to investigate the extended hand, and the next instant
+found himself seized viciously by the scruff of the neck. He submitted
+to capture in absolute silence. Only the slightest change of countenance
+betrayed his mortification at having been found so easy a gull; this
+passed, and a look of resolute stoicism took its place.
+
+He refused to walk, but offered merely nominal resistance, as a formal
+protest which he wished to be of record, though perfectly understanding
+that it availed nothing at present. William dragged him through the long
+hall and down a short passageway to the cellar door. This he opened,
+thrust Clematis upon the other side of it, closed and bolted it.
+
+Immediately a stentorian howl raised blood-curdling echoes and resounded
+horribly through the house. It was obvious that Clematis intended to
+make a scene, whether he was present at it or not. He lifted his voice
+in sonorous dolor, stating that he did not like the cellar and would
+continue thus to protest as long as he was left in it alone. He added
+that he was anxious to see Flopit and considered it an unexampled
+outrage that he was withheld from the opportunity.
+
+Smitten with horror, William reopened the door and charged down the
+cellar stairs after Clematis, who closed his caitiff mouth and gave way
+precipitately. He fled from one end of the cellar to the other and back,
+while William pursued; choking, and calling in low, ferocious tones:
+“Good doggie! Good ole doggie! Hyuh, Clem! Meat, Clem, meat--”
+
+There was dodging through coal-bins; there was squirming between
+barrels; there was high jumping and broad jumping, and there was a final
+aspiring but baffled dash for the top of the cellar stairs, where the
+door, forgotten by William, stood open. But it was here that Clematis,
+after a long and admirable exhibition of ingenuity, no less than
+agility, submitted to capture. That is to say, finding himself
+hopelessly pinioned, he resumed the stoic.
+
+Grimly the panting and dripping William dragged him through the kitchen,
+where the cook cried out unintelligibly, seeming to summon Adelia, who
+was not present. Through the back yard went captor and prisoner, the
+latter now maintaining a seated posture--his pathetic conception of
+dignity under duress. Finally, into a small shed or tool-house, behind
+Mrs. Baxter's flower-beds, went Clematis in a hurried and spasmodic
+manner. The instant the door slammed he lifted his voice--and was bidden
+to use it now as much as he liked.
+
+Adelia, with a tray of used plates, encountered the son of the house as
+he passed through the kitchen on his return, and her eyes were those of
+one who looks upon miracles.
+
+William halted fiercely.
+
+“What's the matter?” he demanded. “Is my face dirty?”
+
+“You mean, are it too dirty to go in yonduh to the party?” Adelia asked,
+slowly. “No, suh; you look all right to go in there. You lookin' jes'
+fine to go in there now, Mist' Willie!”
+
+Something in her tone struck him as peculiar, even as ominous, but his
+blood was up--he would not turn back now. He strode into the hall and
+opened the door of the “living-room.”
+
+Jane was sitting on the floor, busily painting sunsets in a large
+blank-book which she had obtained for that exclusive purpose.
+
+She looked up brightly as William appeared in the doorway, and in answer
+to his wild gaze she said:
+
+“I got a little bit sick, so mamma told me to keep quiet a while. She's
+lookin' for you all over the house. She told papa she don't know what in
+mercy's name people are goin' to think about you, Willie.”
+
+The distraught youth strode to her. “The party--” he choked. “WHERE--”
+
+“They all stayed pretty long,” said Jane, “but the last ones said they
+had to go home to their dinners when papa came, a little while ago.
+Johnnie Watson was carryin' Flopit for that Miss Pratt.”
+
+William dropped into the chair beside which Jane had established herself
+upon the floor. Then he uttered a terrible cry and rose.
+
+Again Jane had painted a sunset she had not intended.
+
+
+
+
+XV
+
+ROMANCE OF STATISTICS
+
+On a warm morning, ten days later, William stood pensively among his
+mother's flowerbeds behind the house, his attitude denoting a low state
+of vitality. Not far away, an aged negro sat upon a wheelbarrow in the
+hot sun, tremulously yet skilfully whittling a piece of wood into the
+shape of a boat, labor more to his taste, evidently, than that which he
+had abandoned at the request of Jane. Allusion to this preference for
+a lighter task was made by Genesis, who was erecting a trellis on the
+border of the little garden.
+
+“Pappy whittle all day,” he chuckled. “Whittle all night, too! Pappy, I
+thought you 'uz goin' to git 'at long bed all spade' up fer me by noon.
+Ain't 'at what you tole me?”
+
+“You let him alone, Genesis,” said Jane, who sat by the old man's side,
+deeply fascinated. “There's goin' to be a great deal of rain in the next
+few days maybe, an' I haf to have this boat ready.”
+
+The aged darky lifted his streaky and diminished eyes to the burnished
+sky, and laughed. “Rain come some day, anyways,” he said. “We git de
+boat ready 'fo' she fall, dat sho.” His glance wandered to William and
+rested upon him with feeble curiosity. “Dat ain' yo' pappy, is it?” he
+asked Jane.
+
+“I should say it isn't!” she exclaimed. “It's Willie. He was only
+seventeen about two or three months ago, Mr. Genesis.” This was not the
+old man's name, but Jane had evolved it, inspired by respect for one so
+aged and so kind about whittling. He was the father of Genesis, and the
+latter, neither to her knowledge nor to her imagination, possessed a
+surname.
+
+“I got cat'rack in my lef' eye,” said Mr. Genesis, “an' de right one,
+she kine o' tricksy, too. Tell black man f'um white man, little f'um
+big.”
+
+“I'd hate it if he was papa,” said Jane, confidentially. “He's always
+cross about somep'm, because he's in love.” She approached her mouth to
+her whittling friend's ear and continued in a whisper: “He's in love of
+Miss Pratt. She's out walkin' with Joe Bullitt. I was in the front yard
+with Willie, an' we saw 'em go by. He's mad.”
+
+William did not hear her. Moodily, he had discovered that there was
+something amiss with the buckle of his belt, and, having ungirded
+himself, he was biting the metal tongue of the buckle in order
+to straighten it. This fell under the observation of Genesis, who
+remonstrated.
+
+“You break you' teef on 'at buckle,” he said.
+
+“No, I won't, either,” William returned, crossly.
+
+“Ain' my teef,” said Genesis. “Break 'em, you want to!”
+
+The attention of Mr. Genesis did not seem to be attracted to the
+speakers; he continued his whittling in a craftsman-like manner, which
+brought praise from Jane.
+
+“You can see to whittle, Mr. Genesis,” she said. “You whittle better
+than anybody in the world.”
+
+“I speck so, mebbe,” Mr. Genesis returned, with a little complacency.
+“How ole yo' pappy?”
+
+“Oh, he's OLD!” Jane explained.
+
+William deigned to correct her. “He's not old, he's middle-aged.”
+
+“Well, suh,” said Mr. Genesis, “I had three chillum 'fo' I 'uz twenty. I
+had two when I 'uz eighteem.”
+
+William showed sudden interest. “You did!” he exclaimed. “How old were
+you when you had the first one?”
+
+“I 'uz jes' yo' age,” said the old man. “I 'uz seventeem.”
+
+“By George!” cried William.
+
+Jane seemed much less impressed than William, seventeen being a long way
+from ten, though, of course, to seventeen itself hardly any information
+could be imagined as more interesting than that conveyed by the words
+of the aged Mr. Genesis. The impression made upon William was obviously
+profound and favorable.
+
+“By George!” he cried again.
+
+“Genesis he de youngis' one,” said the old man. “Genesis he 'uz bawn
+when I 'uz sixty-one.”
+
+William moved closer. “What became of the one that was born when you
+were seventeen?” he asked.
+
+“Well, suh,” said Mr. Genesis, “I nev' did know.”
+
+At this, Jane's interest equaled William's. Her eyes consented to leave
+the busy hands of the aged darky, and, much enlarged, rose to his face.
+After a little pause of awe and sympathy she inquired:
+
+“Was it a boy or a girl?”
+
+The old man deliberated within himself. “Seem like it mus' been a boy.”
+
+“Did it die?” Jane asked, softly.
+
+“I reckon it mus' be dead by now,” he returned, musingly. “Good many of
+'em dead: what I KNOWS is dead. Yes'm, I reckon so.”
+
+“How old were you when you were married?” William asked, with a manner
+of peculiar earnestness;--it was the manner of one who addresses a
+colleague.
+
+“Me? Well, suh, dat 'pen's.” He seemed to search his memory. “I
+rickalect I 'uz ma'ied once in Looavle,” he said.
+
+Jane's interest still followed the first child. “Was that where it was
+born, Mr. Genesis?” she asked.
+
+He looked puzzled, and paused in his whittling to rub his deeply
+corrugated forehead. “Well, suh, mus' been some bawn in Looavle.
+Genesis,” he called to his industrious son, “whaih 'uz YOU bawn?”
+
+“Right 'n 'is town,” laughed Genesis. “You fergit a good deal, pappy,
+but I notice you don' fergit come to meals!”
+
+The old man grunted, resuming his whittling busily. “Hain' much use,”
+ he complained. “Cain' eat nuff'm 'lessen it all gruelly. Man cain' eat
+nuff'm 'lessen he got teef. Genesis, di'n' I hyuh you tellin' dis white
+gemmun take caih his teef--not bite on no i'on?”
+
+William smiled in pity. “I don't need to bother about that, I guess,” he
+said. “I can crack nuts with my teeth.”
+
+“Yes, suh,” said the old man. “You kin now. Ev'y nut you crac' now goin'
+cos' you a yell when you git 'long 'bout fawty an' fifty. You crack nuts
+now an' you'll holler den!”
+
+“Well, I guess I won't worry myself much now about what won't happen
+till I'm forty or fifty,” said William. “My teeth 'll last MY time, I
+guess.”
+
+That brought a chuckle from Mr. Genesis. “Jes' listen!” he exclaimed.
+“Young man think he ain' nev' goin' be ole man. Else he think, 'Dat
+ole man what I'm goin' to be, dat ain' goin' be me 'tall--dat goin' be
+somebody else! What I caih 'bout dat ole man? I ain't a-goin' take caih
+o' no teef fer HIM!' Yes, suh, an' den when he GIT to be ole man, he
+say, 'What become o' dat young man I yoosta be? Where is dat young man
+agone to? He 'uz a fool, dat's what--an' _I_ ain' no fool, so he mus'
+been somebody else, not me; but I do jes' wish I had him hyuh 'bout two
+minutes--long enough to lam him fer not takin' caih o' my teef fer me!'
+Yes, suh!”
+
+William laughed; his good humor was restored and he found the
+conversation of Mr. Genesis attractive. He seated himself upon an
+upturned bucket near the wheelbarrow, and reverted to a former theme.
+“Well, I HAVE heard of people getting married even younger 'n you were,”
+ he said. “You take India, for instance. Why, they get married in India
+when they're twelve, and even seven and eight years old.”
+
+“They do not!” said Jane, promptly. “Their mothers and fathers wouldn't
+let 'em, an' they wouldn't want to, anyway.”
+
+“I suppose you been to India and know all about it!” William retorted.
+“For the matter o' that, there was a young couple got married in
+Pennsylvania the other day; the girl was only fifteen, and the man was
+sixteen. It was in the papers, and their parents consented, and said it
+was a good thing. Then there was a case in Fall River, Massachusetts,
+where a young man eighteen years old married a woman forty-one years
+old; it was in the papers, too. And I heard of another case somewhere in
+Iowa--a boy began shaving when he was thirteen, and shaved every day for
+four years, and now he's got a full beard, and he's goin' to get married
+this year--before he's eighteen years old. Joe Bullitt's got a cousin in
+Iowa that knows about this case--he knows the girl this fellow with the
+beard is goin' to marry, and he says he expects it 'll turn out the
+best thing could have happened. They're goin' to live on a farm. There's
+hunderds of cases like that, only you don't hear of more'n just a few
+of 'em. People used to get married at sixteen, seventeen,
+eighteen--anywhere in there--and never think anything of it at all.
+Right up to about a hunderd years ago there were more people married at
+those ages than there were along about twenty-four and twenty-five, the
+way they are now. For instance, you take Shakespeare--”
+
+William paused.
+
+Mr. Genesis was scraping the hull of the miniature boat with a piece of
+broken glass, in lieu of sandpaper, but he seemed to be following his
+young friend's remarks with attention. William had mentioned Shakespeare
+impulsively, in the ardor of demonstrating his point; however, upon
+second thought he decided to withdraw the name.
+
+“I mean, you take the olden times,” he went on; “hardly anybody got
+married after they were nineteen or twenty years old, unless they were
+widowers, because they were all married by that time. And right here in
+our own county, there were eleven couples married in the last six months
+under twenty-one years of age. I've got a friend named Johnnie Watson;
+his uncle works down at the court-house and told him about it, so it
+can't be denied. Then there was a case I heard of over in--”
+
+Mr. Genesis uttered a loud chuckle. “My goo'ness!” he exclaimed. “How
+you c'leck all' dem fac's? Lan' name! What puzzlin' ME is how you
+'member 'em after you done c'leck 'em. Ef it uz me I couldn't c'leck 'em
+in de firs' place, an' ef I could, dey wouldn' be no use to me, 'cause I
+couldn't rickalect 'em!”
+
+“Well, it isn't so hard,” said William, “if you kind of get the hang
+of it.” Obviously pleased, he plucked a spear of grass and placed it
+between his teeth, adding, “I always did have a pretty good memory.”
+
+“Mamma says you're the most forgetful boy she ever heard of,” said Jane,
+calmly. “She says you can't remember anything two minutes.”
+
+William's brow darkened. “Now look here--” he began, with severity.
+
+But the old darky intervened. “Some folks got good rickaleckshum
+an' some folks got bad,” he said, pacifically. “Young white germmun
+rickalect mo' in two minute dan what I kin in two years!”
+
+Jane appeared to accept this as settlement of the point at issue, while
+William bestowed upon Mr. Genesis a glance of increased favor. William's
+expression was pleasant to see; in fact, it was the pleasantest
+expression Jane had seen him wearing for several days. Almost always,
+lately, he was profoundly preoccupied, and so easily annoyed that
+there was no need to be careful of his feelings, because--as his mother
+observed--he was “certain to break out about every so often, no matter
+what happened!”
+
+“I remember pretty much everything,” he said, as if in modest
+explanation of the performance which had excited the aged man's
+admiration. “I can remember things that happened when I was four years
+old.”
+
+“So can I,” said Jane. “I can remember when I was two. I had a kitten
+fell down the cistern and papa said it hurt the water.”
+
+“My goo'ness!” Mr. Genesis exclaimed. “An' you 'uz on'y two year ole,
+honey! Bes' _I_ kin do is rickalect when I 'uz 'bout fifty.”
+
+“Oh no!” Jane protested. “You said you remembered havin' a baby when you
+were seventeen, Mr. Genesis.”
+
+“Yes'm,” he admitted. “I mean rickalect good like you do 'bout yo' li'l'
+cat an' all how yo' pappy tuck on 'bout it. I kin rickalect SOME, but I
+cain' rickalect GOOD.”
+
+William coughed with a certain importance. “Do you remember,” he asked,
+“when you were married, how did you feel about it? Were you kind of
+nervous, or anything like that, beforehand?”
+
+Mr. Genesis again passed a wavering hand across his troubled brow.
+
+“I mean,” said William, observing his perplexity, “were you sort of
+shaky--f'rinstance, as if you were taking an important step in life?”
+
+“Lemme see.” The old man pondered for a moment. “I felt mighty shaky
+once, I rickalect; dat time yalla m'latta man shootin' at me f 'um
+behime a snake-fence.”
+
+“Shootin' at you!” Jane cried, stirred from her accustomed placidity.
+“Mr. Genesis! What DID he do that for?”
+
+“Nuff'm!” replied Mr. Genesis, with feeling. “Nuff'm in de wide worl'!
+He boun' to shoot SOMEbody, an' pick on me 'cause I 'uz de handies'.”
+
+He closed his knife, gave the little boat a final scrape with the broken
+glass, and then a soothing rub with the palm of his hand. “Dah, honey,”
+ he said--and simultaneously factory whistles began to blow. “Dah
+yo' li'l' steamboat good as I kin git her widout no b'iler ner no
+smokestack. I reckon yo' pappy 'll buy 'em fer you.”
+
+Jane was grateful. “It's a beautiful boat, Mr. Genesis. I do thank you!”
+
+Genesis, the son, laid aside his tools and approached. “Pappy finish
+whittlin' spang on 'em noon whistles,” he chuckled. “Come 'long, pappy.
+I bet you walk fas' 'nuff goin' todes dinnuh. I hear fry-cakes ploppin'
+in skillet!”
+
+Mr. Genesis laughed loudly, his son's words evidently painting a merry
+and alluring picture; and the two, followed by Clematis, moved away
+in the direction of the alley gate. William and Jane watched the brisk
+departure of the antique with sincere esteem and liking.
+
+“He must have been sixteen,” said William, musingly.
+
+“When?” Jane asked.
+
+William, in deep thought, was still looking after Mr. Genesis; he
+was almost unconscious that he had spoken aloud and he replied,
+automatically:
+
+“When he was married.”
+
+Then, with a start, he realized into how great a condescension he had
+been betrayed, and hastily added, with pronounced hauteur, “Things you
+don't understand. You run in the house.”
+
+Jane went into the house, but she did not carry her obedience to the
+point of running. She walked slowly, and in that state of profound
+reverie which was characteristic of her when she was immersed in the
+serious study of William's affairs.
+
+
+
+
+XVI
+
+THE SHOWER
+
+She continued to be thoughtful until after lunch, when, upon the
+sun's disappearance behind a fat cloud, Jane and the heavens exchanged
+dispositions for the time--the heavens darkened and Jane brightened. She
+was in the front hall, when the sunshine departed rather abruptly, and
+she jumped for joy, pointing to the open door. “Look! Looky there!” she
+called to her brother. Richly ornamented, he was descending the front
+stairs, his embellishments including freshly pressed white trousers, a
+new straw hat, unusual shoes, and a blasphemous tie. “I'm goin' to get
+to sail my boat,” Jane shouted. “It's goin' to rain.”
+
+“It is not,” said William, irritated. “It's not going to anything like
+rain. I s'pose you think it ought to rain just to let you sail that
+chunk of wood!”
+
+“It's goin' to rain--it's goin' to rain!” (Jane made a little singsong
+chant of it.) “It's goin' to rain--it gives Willie a pain--it's goin' to
+rain--it gives Willie a pain--it's goin' to--”
+
+He interrupted her sternly. “Look here! You're old enough to know
+better. I s'pose you think there isn't anything as important in the
+world as your gettin' the chance to sail that little boat! I s'pose
+you think business and everything else has got to stop and get ruined,
+maybe, just to please you!” As he spoke he walked to an umbrella-stand
+in the hall and deliberately took therefrom a bamboo walking-stick of
+his father's. Indeed, his denunciation of Jane's selfishness about
+the weather was made partly to reassure himself and settle his nerves,
+strained by the unusual procedure he contemplated, and partly to divert
+Jane's attention. In the latter effort he was unsuccessful; her eyes
+became strange and unbearable.
+
+She uttered a shriek:
+
+“Willie's goin' to carry a CANE!”
+
+“You hush up!” he said, fiercely, and hurried out through the front
+door. She followed him to the edge of the porch; she stood there while
+he made his way to the gate, and she continued to stand there as he
+went down the street, trying to swing the cane in an accustomed and
+unembarrassed manner.
+
+Jane made this difficult.
+
+“Willie's got a CANE!” she screamed. “He's got papa's CANE!”
+ Then, resuming her little chant, she began to sing: “It's goin' to
+rain--Willie's got papa's cane--it's goin' to rain--Willie's got papa's
+cane!” She put all of her voice into a final effort. “MISS PRATT'LL GET
+WET IF YOU DON'T TAKE AN UMBERELLER-R-R!”
+
+The attention of several chance pedestrians had been attracted, and the
+burning William, breaking into an agonized half-trot, disappeared round
+the corner. Then Jane retired within the house, feeling that she had
+done her duty. It would be his own fault if he got wet.
+
+Rain was coming. Rain was in the feel of the air--and in Jane's hope.
+
+She was not disappointed. Mr. Genesis, so secure of fair weather in the
+morning, was proved by the afternoon to be a bad prophet. The fat cloud
+was succeeded by others, fatter; a corpulent army assailed the vault
+of heaven, heavy outriders before a giant of evil complexion and
+devastating temper.
+
+An hour after William had left the house, the dust in the streets and
+all loose paper and rubbish outdoors rose suddenly to a considerable
+height and started for somewhere else. The trees had colic; everything
+became as dark as winter twilight; streaks of wildfire ran miles in a
+second, and somebody seemed to be ripping up sheets of copper and tin
+the size of farms. The rain came with a swish, then with a rattle, and
+then with a roar, while people listened at their garret doorways and
+marveled. Window-panes turned to running water;--it poured.
+
+Then it relented, dribbled, shook down a few last drops; and passed on
+to the countryside. Windows went up; eaves and full gutters plashed and
+gurgled; clearer light fell; then, in a moment, sunshine rushed upon
+shining green trees and green grass; doors opened--and out came the
+children!
+
+Shouting, they ran to the flooded gutters. Here were rivers, lakes, and
+oceans for navigation; easy pilotage, for the steersman had but to wade
+beside his craft and guide it with a twig. Jane's timely boat was one of
+the first to reach the water.
+
+Her mother had been kind, and Jane, with shoes and stockings left behind
+her on the porch, was a happy sailor as she waded knee-deep along the
+brimming curbstones. At the corner below the house of the Baxters, the
+street was flooded clear across, and Jane's boat, following the current,
+proceeded gallantly onward here, sailed down the next block, and was
+thoughtlessly entering a sewer when she snatched it out of the water.
+Looking about her, she perceived a gutter which seemed even lovelier
+than the one she had followed. It was deeper and broader and perhaps a
+little browner, wherefore she launched her ship upon its dimpled bosom
+and explored it as far as the next sewer-hole or portage. Thus the
+voyage continued for several blocks with only one accident--which might
+have happened to anybody. It was an accident in the nature of a fall,
+caused by the sliding of Jane's left foot on some slippery mud.
+This treacherous substance, covered with water, could not have been
+anticipated; consequently Jane's emotions were those of indignation
+rather than of culpability. Upon rising, she debated whether or not
+she should return to her dwelling, inclining to the opinion that the
+authorities there would have taken the affirmative; but as she was
+wet not much above the waist, and the guilt lay all upon the mud,
+she decided that such an interruption of her journey would be a gross
+injustice to herself. Navigation was reopened.
+
+Presently the boat wandered into a miniature whirlpool, grooved in a
+spiral and pleasant to see. Slowly the water went round and round, and
+so did the boat without any assistance from Jane. Watching this movement
+thoughtfully, she brought forth from her drenched pocket some sodden
+whitish disks, recognizable as having been crackers, and began to eat
+them. Thus absorbed, she failed at first to notice the approach of two
+young people along the sidewalk.
+
+They were the entranced William and Miss Pratt; and their appearance
+offered a suggestive contrast in relative humidity. In charming and
+tender-colored fabrics, fluffy and cool and summery, she was specklessly
+dry; not a drop had touched even the little pink parasol over her
+shoulder, not one had fallen upon the tiny white doglet drowsing upon
+her arm. But William was wet--he was still more than merely damp, though
+they had evidently walked some distance since the rain had ceased to
+fall. His new hat was a mucilaginous ruin; his dank coat sagged; his
+shapeless trousers flopped heavily, and his shoes gave forth marshy
+sounds as he walked.
+
+No brilliant analyst was needed to diagnose this case. Surely any
+observer must have said: “Here is a dry young lady, and at her side
+walks a wet young gentleman who carries an umbrella in one hand and a
+walking-stick in the other. Obviously the young lady and gentleman
+were out for a stroll for which the stick was sufficient, and they were
+caught by the rain. Before any fell, however, he found her a place of
+shelter--such as a corner drug-store and then himself gallantly went
+forth into the storm for an umbrella. He went to the young lady's house,
+or to the house where she may be visiting, for, if he had gone to his
+own he would have left his stick. It may be, too, that at his own, his
+mother would have detained him, since he is still at the age when it
+is just possible sometimes for mothers to get their sons into the house
+when it rains. He returned with the umbrella to the corner drug-store
+at probably about the time when the rain ceased to fall, because his
+extreme moistness makes necessary the deduction that he was out in all
+the rain that rained. But he does not seem to care.”
+
+The fact was that William did not even know that he was wet. With his
+head sidewise and his entranced eyes continuously upon the pretty face
+so near, his state was almost somnambulistic. Not conscious of his
+soggy garments or of the deluged streets, he floated upon a rosy cloud,
+incense about him, far-away music enchanting his ears.
+
+If Jane had not recognized the modeling of his features she might not
+have known them to be William's, for they had altered their grouping
+to produce an expression with which she was totally unfamiliar. To be
+explicit, she was unfamiliar with this expression in that place--that is
+to say, upon William, though she had seen something like it upon other
+people, once or twice, in church.
+
+William's thoughts might have seemed to her as queer as his expression,
+could she have known them. They were not very definite, however, taking
+the form of sweet, vague pictures of the future. These pictures were of
+married life; that is, married life as William conceived it for himself
+and Miss Pratt--something strikingly different from that he had observed
+as led by his mother and father, or their friends and relatives. In his
+rapt mind he beheld Miss Pratt walking beside him “through life,” with
+her little parasol and her little dog--her exquisite face always lifted
+playfully toward his own (with admiration underneath the playfulness),
+and he heard her voice of silver always rippling “baby-talk” throughout
+all the years to come. He saw her applauding his triumphs--though these
+remained indefinite in his mind, and he was unable to foreshadow the
+business or profession which was to provide the amazing mansion (mainly
+conservatory) which he pictured as their home. Surrounded by flowers,
+and maintaining a private orchestra, he saw Miss Pratt and himself
+growing old together, attaining to such ages as thirty and even
+thirty-five, still in perfect harmony, and always either dancing in
+the evenings or strolling hand in hand in the moonlight. Sometimes they
+would visit the nursery, where curly-headed, rosy cherubs played upon a
+white-bear rug in the firelight. These were all boys and ready-made, the
+youngest being three years old and without a past.
+
+They would be beautiful children, happy with their luxurious toys on the
+bear rug, and they would NEVER be seen in any part of the house except
+the nursery. Their deportment would be flawless, and--
+
+“WILL-EE!”
+
+The aviator struck a hole in the air; his heart misgave him. Then he
+came to earth--a sickening drop, and instantaneous.
+
+“WILL-EE!”
+
+There was Jane, a figurine in a plastic state and altogether
+disgraceful;--she came up out of the waters and stood before them with
+feet of clay, indeed; pedestaled upon the curbstone.
+
+“Who IS that CURIOUS child?” said Miss Pratt, stopping.
+
+William shuddered.
+
+“Was she calling YOU?” Miss Pratt asked, incredulously.
+
+“Willie, I told you you better take an umbereller,” said Jane, “instead
+of papa's cane.” And she added, triumphantly, “Now you see!”
+
+Moving forward, she seemed to have in mind a dreadful purpose; there
+was something about her that made William think she intended casually to
+accompany him and Miss Pratt.
+
+“You go home!” he commanded, hoarsely.
+
+Miss Pratt uttered a little scream of surprise and recognition. “It's
+your little sister!” she exclaimed, and then, reverting to her favorite
+playfulness of enunciation, “'Oor ickle sissa!” she added, gaily, as
+a translation. Jane misunderstood it; she thought Miss Pratt meant “OUR
+little sister.”
+
+“Go home!” said William.
+
+“No'ty, no'ty!” said Miss Pratt, shaking her head. “Me 'fraid oo's a
+no'ty, no'ty ickle dirl! All datie!”
+
+Jane advanced. “I wish you'd let me carry Flopit for you,” she said.
+
+Giving forth another gentle scream, Miss Pratt hopped prettily backward
+from Jane's extended hands. “Oo-oo!” she cried, chidingly. “Mustn't
+touch! P'eshus Flopit all soap-water-wash clean. Ickle dirly all
+muddy-nassy! Ickle dirly must doe home, det all soap-water-wash clean
+like NICE ickle sissa. Evabody will love 'oor ickle sissa den,” she
+concluded, turning to William. “Tell 'oor ickle sissa MUS' doe home det
+soap-water-wash!”
+
+Jane stared at Miss Pratt with fixed solemnity during the delivery of
+these admonitions, and it was to be seen that they made an impression
+upon her. Her mouth slowly opened, but she spake not. An extraordinary
+idea had just begun to make itself at home in her mind. It was an idea
+which had been hovering in the neighborhood of that domain ever since
+William's comments upon the conversation of Mr. Genesis, in the morning.
+
+“Go home!” repeated William, and then, as Jane stood motionless and
+inarticulate, transfixed by her idea, he said, almost brokenly, to his
+dainty companion, “I DON'T know what you'll think of my mother! To let
+this child--”
+
+Miss Pratt laughed comfortingly as they started on again. “Isn't mamma's
+fault, foolish boy Baxter. Ickle dirlies will det datie!”
+
+The profoundly mortified William glanced back over his shoulder,
+bestowing upon Jane a look in which bitterness was mingled with
+apprehension. But she remained where she was, and did not follow.
+That was a little to be thankful for, and he found some additional
+consolation in believing that Miss Pratt had not caught the frightful
+words, “papa's cane,” at the beginning of the interview. He was
+encouraged to this belief by her presently taking from his hand the
+decoration in question and examining it with tokens of pleasure. “'Oor
+pitty walk'-'tick,” she called it, with a tact he failed to suspect. And
+so he began to float upward again; glamors enveloped him and the earth
+fell away.
+
+He was alone in space with Miss Pratt once more.
+
+
+
+
+XVII
+
+JANE'S THEORY
+
+The pale end of sunset was framed in the dining-room windows, and Mr.
+and Mrs. Baxter and the rehabilitated Jane were at the table, when
+William made his belated return from the afternoon's excursion. Seating
+himself, he waived his mother's references to the rain, his clothes, and
+probable colds, and after one laden glance at Jane denoting a grievance
+so elaborate that he despaired of setting it forth in a formal complaint
+to the Powers--he fell into a state of trance. He took nourishment
+automatically, and roused himself but once during the meal, a pathetic
+encounter with his father resulting from this awakening.
+
+“Everybody in town seemed to be on the streets, this evening, as I
+walked home,” Mr. Baxter remarked, addressing his wife. “I suppose
+there's something in the clean air after a rain that brings 'em out. I
+noticed one thing, though; maybe it's the way they dress nowadays, but
+you certainly don't see as many pretty girls on the streets as there
+used to be.”
+
+William looked up absently. “I used to think that, too,” he said, with
+dreamy condescension, “when I was younger.”
+
+Mr. Baxter stared.
+
+“Well, I'll be darned!” he said.
+
+“Papa, papa!” his wife called, reprovingly.
+
+“When you were younger!” Mr. Baxter repeated, with considerable
+irritation. “How old d' you think you are?”
+
+“I'm going on eighteen,” said William, firmly. “I know plenty of
+cases--cases where--” He paused, relapsing into lethargy.
+
+“What's the matter with him?” Mr. Baxter inquired, heatedly, of his
+wife.
+
+William again came to life. “I was saying that a person's age is
+different according to circumstances,” he explained, with dignity, if
+not lucidity. “You take Genesis's father. Well, he was married when he
+was sixteen. Then there was a case over in Iowa that lots of people
+know about and nobody thinks anything of. A young man over there in Iowa
+that's seventeen years old began shaving when he was thirteen and shaved
+every day for four years, and now--”
+
+He was interrupted by his father, who was no longer able to contain
+himself. “And now I suppose he's got WHISKERS!” he burst forth. “There's
+an ambition for you! My soul!”
+
+It was Jane who took up the tale. She had been listening with growing
+excitement, her eyes fixed piercingly upon William. “He's got a beard!”
+ she cried, alluding not to her brother, but to the fabled Iowan. “I
+heard Willie tell ole Mr. Genesis about it.”
+
+“It seems to lie heavily on your mind,” Mr. Baxter said to William. “I
+suppose you feel that in the face of such an example, your life between
+the ages of thirteen and seventeen has been virtually thrown away?”
+
+William had again relapsed, but he roused himself feebly. “Sir?” he
+said.
+
+“What IS the matter with him?” Mr. Baxter demanded. “Half the time
+lately he seems to be hibernating, and only responds by a slight
+twitching when poked with a stick. The other half of the time he either
+behaves like I-don't-know-what or talks about children growing whiskers
+in Iowa! Hasn't that girl left town yet?”
+
+William was not so deep in trance that this failed to stir him. He left
+the table.
+
+Mrs. Baxter looked distressed, though, as the meal was about concluded,
+and William had partaken of his share in spite of his dreaminess, she
+had no anxieties connected with his sustenance. As for Mr. Baxter, he
+felt a little remorse, undoubtedly, but he was also puzzled. So plain
+a man was he that he had no perception of the callous brutality of
+the words “THAT GIRL” when applied to some girls. He referred to his
+mystification a little later, as he sat with his evening paper in the
+library.
+
+“I don't know what I said to that tetchy boy to hurt him,” he began in
+an apologetic tone. “I don't see that there was anything too rough for
+him to stand in a little sarcasm. He needn't be so sensitive on the
+subject of whiskers, it seems to me.”
+
+Mrs. Baxter smiled faintly and shook her head.
+
+It was Jane who responded. She was seated upon the floor, disporting
+herself mildly with her paint-box. “Papa, I know what's the matter with
+Willie,” she said.
+
+“Do you?” Mr. Baxter returned. “Well, if you make it pretty short,
+you've got just about long enough to tell us before your bedtime.”
+
+“I think he's married,” said Jane.
+
+“What!” And her parents united their hilarity.
+
+“I do think he's married,” Jane insisted, unmoved. “I think he's married
+with that Miss Pratt.”
+
+“Well,” said her father, “he does seem upset, and it may be that her
+visit and the idea of whiskers, coming so close together, is more than
+mere coincidence, but I hardly think Willie is married, Jane!”
+
+“Well, then,” she returned, thoughtfully, “he's almost married. I know
+that much, anyway.”
+
+“What makes you think so?”
+
+“Well, because! I KIND of thought he must be married, or anyways
+somep'm, when he talked to Mr. Genesis this mornin'. He said he knew how
+some people got married in Pennsylvania an' India, an' he said they were
+only seven or eight years old. He said so, an' I heard him; an' he said
+there were eleven people married that were only seventeen, an' this boy
+in Iowa got a full beard an' got married, too. An' he said Mr. Genesis
+was only sixteen when HE was married. He talked all about gettin'
+married when you're seventeen years old, an' he said how people thought
+it was the best thing could happen. So I just KNOW he's almost married!”
+
+Mr. Baxter chuckled, and Mrs. Baxter smiled, but a shade of
+thoughtfulness, a remote anxiety, tell upon the face of the latter.
+
+“You haven't any other reason, have you, Jane?” she asked.
+
+“Yes'm,” said Jane, promptly. “An' it's a more reason than any! Miss
+Pratt calls you 'mamma' as if you were HER mamma. She does it when she
+talks to Willie.”
+
+“Jane!”
+
+“Yes m, I HEARD her. An' Willie said, 'I don't know what you'll think
+about mother.' He said, 'I don't know what you'll think about mother,'
+to Miss Pratt.”
+
+Mrs. Baxter looked a little startled, and her husband frowned. Jane
+mistook their expressions for incredulity. “They DID, mamma,” she
+protested. “That's just the way they talked to each other. I heard 'em
+this afternoon, when Willie had papa's cane.”
+
+“Maybe they were doing it to tease you, if you were with them,” Mr.
+Baxter suggested.
+
+“I wasn't with 'em. I was sailin' my boat, an' they came along, an'
+first they never saw me, an' Willie looked--oh, papa, I wish you'd seen
+him!” Jane rose to her feet in her excitement. “His face was so funny,
+you never saw anything like it! He was walkin' along with it turned
+sideways, an' all the time he kept walkin' frontways, he kept his face
+sideways--like this, papa. Look, papa!” And she gave what she considered
+a faithful imitation of William walking with Miss Pratt. “Look, papa!
+This is the way Willie went. He had it sideways so's he could see Miss.
+Pratt, papa. An' his face was just like this. Look, papa!” She contorted
+her features in a terrifying manner. “Look, papa!”
+
+“Don't, Jane!” her mother exclaimed.
+
+“Well, I haf to show papa how Willie looked, don't I?” said Jane,
+relaxing. “That's just the way he looked. Well, an' then they stopped
+an' talked to me, an' Miss Pratt said, 'It's our little sister.'”
+
+“Did she really?” Mrs. Baxter asked, gravely.
+
+“Yes'm, she did. Soon as she saw who I was, she said, 'Why, it's our
+little sister!' Only she said it that way she talks--sort of foolish.
+'It's our ittle sissy'--somep'm like that, mamma. She said it twice an'
+told me to go home an' get washed up. An' Miss Pratt told Willie--Miss
+Pratt said, 'It isn't mamma's fault Jane's so dirty,' just like that.
+She--”
+
+“Are you sure she said 'our little sister'?” said Mrs. Baxter.
+
+“Why, you can ask Willie! She said it that funny way. 'Our 'ittle
+sissy'; that's what she said. An' Miss Pratt said, 'Ev'rybody would love
+our little sister if mamma washed her in soap an' water!' You can ask
+Willie; that's exackly what Miss Pratt said, an' if you don't believe it
+you can ask HER. If you don't want to believe it, why, you can ask--”
+
+“Hush, dear,” said Mrs. Baxter. “All this doesn't mean anything at all,
+especially such nonsense as Willie's thinking of being married. It's
+your bedtime.”
+
+“Well, but MAMMA--”
+
+“Was that all they said?” Mr. Baxter inquired.
+
+Jane turned to him eagerly. “They said all lots of things like that,
+papa. They--”
+
+“Nonsense!” Mrs. Baxter in interrupted. “Come, it's bedtime. I'll go up
+with you. You mustn't think such nonsense.”
+
+“But, mamma--”
+
+“Come along, Jane!”
+
+Jane was obedient in the flesh, but her spirit was free; her opinions
+were her own. Disappointed in the sensation she had expected to produce,
+she followed her mother out of the room wearing the expression of a
+person who says, “You'll SEE--some day when everything's ruined!”
+
+Mr. Baxter, left alone, laughed quietly, lifted his neglected newspaper
+to obtain the light at the right angle, and then allowed it to languish
+upon his lap again. Frowning, he began to tap the floor with his shoe.
+
+He was trying to remember what things were in his head when he was
+seventeen, and it was difficult. It seemed to him that he had been a
+steady, sensible young fellow--really quite a man--at that age. Looking
+backward at the blur of youthful years, the period from sixteen to
+twenty-five appeared to him as “pretty much all of a piece.” He could
+not recall just when he stopped being a boy; it must have been at about
+fifteen, he thought.
+
+All at once he sat up stiffly in his chair, and the paper slid from his
+knee. He remembered an autumn, long ago, when he had decided to abandon
+the educational plans of his parents and become an actor. He had located
+this project exactly, for it dated from the night of his seventeenth
+birthday, when he saw John McCullough play “Virginius.”
+
+Even now Mr. Baxter grew a little red as he remembered the remarkable
+letter he had written, a few weeks later, to the manager of a passing
+theatrical company. He had confidently expected an answer, and had made
+his plans to leave town quietly with the company and afterward reassure
+his parents by telegraph. In fact, he might have been on the stage at
+this moment, if that manager had taken him. Mr. Baxter began to look
+nervous.
+
+Still, there is a difference between going on the stage and getting
+married. “I don't know, though!” Mr. Baxter thought. “And Willie's
+certainly not so well balanced in a GENERAL way as I was.” He wished
+his wife would come down and reassure him, though of course it was all
+nonsense.
+
+But when Mrs. Baxter came down-stairs she did not reassure him. “Of
+course Jane's too absurd!” she said. “I don't mean that she 'made it
+up'; she never does that, and no doubt this little Miss Pratt did say
+about what Jane thought she said. But it all amounts to nothing.”
+
+“Of course!”
+
+“Willie's just going through what several of the other boys about his
+age are going through--like Johnnie Watson and Joe Bullitt and Wallace
+Banks. They all seem to be frantic over her.”
+
+“I caught a glimpse of her the day you had her to tea. She's rather
+pretty.”
+
+“Adorably! And perhaps Willie has been just a LITTLE bit more frantic
+than the others.”
+
+“He certainly seems in a queer state!”
+
+At this his wife's tone became serious. “Do you think he WOULD do as
+crazy a thing as that?”
+
+Mr. Baxter laughed. “Well, I don't know what he'd do it ON! I don't
+suppose he has more than a dollar in his possession.”
+
+“Yes, he has,” she returned, quickly. “Day before yesterday there was
+a second-hand furniture man here, and I was too busy to see him, but
+I wanted the storeroom in the cellar cleared out, and I told Willie he
+could have whatever the man would pay him for the junk in there, if he'd
+watch to see that they didn't TAKE anything. They found some old pieces
+that I'd forgotten, underneath things, and altogether the man paid
+Willie nine dollars and eighty-five cents.”
+
+“But, mercy-me!” exclaimed Mr. Baxter, “the girl may be an idiot, but
+she wouldn't run away and marry a boy just barely seventeen on nine
+dollars and eighty-five cents!”
+
+“Oh no!” said Mrs. Baxter. “At least, I don't THINK so. Of course girls
+do as crazy things as boys sometimes--in their way. I was thinking--”
+ She paused. “Of COURSE there couldn't be anything in it, but it did seem
+a little strange.”
+
+“What did?”
+
+“Why, just before I came down-stairs, Adelia came for the laundry; and
+I asked her if she'd seen Willie; and she said he'd put on his dark
+suit after dinner, and he went out through the kitchen, carrying his
+suit-case.”
+
+“He did?”
+
+“Of course,” Mrs. Baxter went on, slowly, “I COULDN'T believe he'd do
+such a thing, but he really is in a PREPOSTEROUS way over this little
+Miss Pratt, and he DID have that money--”
+
+“By George!” Mr. Baxter got upon his feet. “The way he talked at dinner,
+I could come pretty near believing he hasn't any more brains LEFT than
+to get married on nine dollars and eighty-five cents! I wouldn't put it
+past him! By George, I wouldn't!”
+
+“Oh, I don't think he would,” she remonstrated, feebly. “Besides, the
+law wouldn't permit it.”
+
+Mr. Baxter paced the floor. “Oh, I suppose they COULD manage it. They
+could go to some little town and give false ages and--” He broke off.
+“Adelia was sure he had his suit-case?”
+
+She nodded. “Do you think we'd better go down to the Parchers'? We'd
+just say we came to call, of course, and if--”
+
+“Get your hat on,” he said. “I don't think there's anything in it at
+all, but we'd just as well drop down there. It can't HURT anything.”
+
+“Of course, I don't think--” she began.
+
+“Neither do I,” he interrupted, irascibly. “But with a boy of his age
+crazy enough to think he's in love, how do WE know what 'll happen?
+We're only his parents! Get your hat on.”
+
+But when the uneasy couple found themselves upon the pavement before
+the house of the Parchers, they paused under the shade-trees in the
+darkness, and presently decided that it was not necessary to go in.
+Suddenly their uneasiness had fallen from them. From the porch came
+the laughter of several young voices, and then one silvery voice, which
+pretended to be that of a tiny child.
+
+“Oh, s'ame! S'ame on 'oo, big Bruvva Josie-Joe! Mus' be polite to Johnny
+Jump-up, or tant play wiv May and Lola!”
+
+“That's Miss Pratt,” whispered Mrs. Baxter. “She's talking to Johnnie
+Watson and Joe Bullitt and May Parcher. Let's go home; it's all right.
+Of course I knew it would be.”
+
+“Why, certainly,” said Mr. Baxter, as they turned. “Even if Willie were
+as crazy as that, the little girl would have more sense. I wouldn't have
+thought anything of it, if you hadn't told me about the suit-case. That
+looked sort of queer.”
+
+She agreed that it did, but immediately added that she had thought
+nothing of it. What had seemed more significant to her was William's
+interest in the early marriage of Genesis's father, and in the Iowa
+beard story, she said. Then she said that it WAS curious about the
+suit-case.
+
+And when they came to their own house again, there was William sitting
+alone and silent upon the steps of the porch.
+
+“I thought you'd gone out, Willie,” said his mother, as they paused
+beside him.
+
+“Ma'am?”
+
+“Adelia said you went out, carrying your suit-case.”
+
+“Oh yes,” he said, languidly. “If you leave clothes at Schwartz's in the
+evening they have 'em pressed in the morning. You said I looked damp at
+dinner, so I took 'em over and left 'em there.”
+
+“I see.” Mrs. Baxter followed her husband to the door, but she stopped
+on the threshold and called back:
+
+“Don't sit there too long, Willie.”
+
+“Ma'am?”
+
+“The dew is falling and it rained so hard to-day--I'm afraid it might be
+damp.”
+
+“Ma'am?”
+
+“Come on,” Mr. Baxter said to his wife. “He's down on the Parchers'
+porch, not out in front here. Of course he can't hear you. It's three
+blocks and a half.”
+
+But William's father was mistaken. Little he knew! William was not upon
+the porch of the Parchers, with May Parcher and Joe Bullitt and Johnnie
+Watson to interfere. He was far from there, in a land where time was
+not. Upon a planet floating in pink mist, and uninhabited--unless old
+Mr. Genesis and some Hindoo princes and the diligent Iowan may have
+established themselves in its remoter regions--William was alone with
+Miss Pratt, in the conservatory. And, after a time, they went together,
+and looked into the door of a room where an indefinite number of little
+boys--all over three years of age--were playing in the firelight upon a
+white-bear rug. For, in the roseate gossamer that boys' dreams are made
+of, William had indeed entered the married state.
+
+His condition was growing worse, every day.
+
+
+
+
+XVIII
+
+THE BIG, FAT LUMMOX
+
+In the morning sunshine, Mrs. Baxter stood at the top of the steps of
+the front porch, addressing her son, who listened impatiently and edged
+himself a little nearer the gate every time he shifted his weight from
+one foot to the other.
+
+“Willie,” she said, “you must really pay some attention to the laws of
+health, or you'll never live to be an old man.”
+
+“I don't want to live to be an old man,” said William, earnestly. “I'd
+rather do what I please now and die a little sooner.”
+
+“You talk very foolishly,” his mother returned. “Either come back and
+put on some heavier THINGS or take your overcoat.”
+
+“My overcoat!” William groaned. “They'd think I was a lunatic, carrying
+an overcoat in August!”
+
+“Not to a picnic,” she said.
+
+“Mother, it isn't a picnic, I've told you a hunderd times! You think
+it's one those ole-fashion things YOU used to go to--sit on the damp
+ground and eat sardines with ants all over 'em? This isn't anything like
+that; we just go out on the trolley to this farm-house and have noon
+dinner, and dance all afternoon, and have supper, and then come home on
+the trolley. I guess we'd hardly of got up anything as out o' date as a
+picnic in honor of Miss PRATT!”
+
+Mrs. Baxter seemed unimpressed.
+
+“It doesn't matter whether you call it a picnic or not, Willie. It will
+be cool on the open trolleycar coming home, especially with only those
+white trousers on--”
+
+“Ye gods!” he cried. “I've got other things on besides my trousers! I
+wish you wouldn't always act as if I was a perfect child! Good heavens!
+isn't a person my age supposed to know how much clothes to wear?”
+
+“Well, if he is,” she returned, “it's a mere supposition and not founded
+on fact. Don't get so excited, Willie, please; but you'll either have to
+give up the picnic or come in and ch--”
+
+“Change my 'things'!” he wailed. “I can't change my 'things'! I've got
+just twenty minutes to get to May Parcher's--the crowd meets there, and
+they're goin' to take the trolley in front the Parchers' at exactly a
+quarter after 'leven. PLEASE don't keep me any longer, mother--I GOT to
+go!”
+
+She stepped into the hall and returned immediately. “Here's your
+overcoat, Willie.”
+
+His expression was of despair. “They'll think I'm a lunatic and they'll
+say so before everybody--and I don't blame 'em! Overcoat on a hot day
+like this! Except me, I don't suppose there was ever anybody lived in
+the world and got to be going on eighteen years old and had to carry his
+silly old overcoat around with him in August--because his mother made
+him!”
+
+“Willie,” said Mrs. Baxter, “you don't know how many thousands and
+thousands of mothers for thousands and thousands of years have kept
+their sons from taking thousands and thousands of colds--just this way!”
+
+He moaned. “Well, and I got to be called a lunatic just because you're
+nervous, I s'pose. All right!”
+
+She hung it upon his arm, kissed him; and he departed in a desperate
+manner.
+
+However, having worn his tragic face for three blocks, he halted before
+a corner drug-store, and permitted his expression to improve as he
+gazed upon the window display of My Little Sweetheart All-Tobacco Cuban
+Cigarettes, the Package of Twenty for Ten Cents. William was not a
+smoker--that is to say, he had made the usual boyhood experiments,
+finding them discouraging; and though at times he considered it
+humorously man-about-town to say to a smoking friend, “Well, _I_'ll
+tackle one o' your ole coffin-nails,” he had never made a purchase
+of tobacco in his life. But it struck him now that it would be rather
+debonair to disport himself with a package of Little Sweethearts upon
+the excursion.
+
+And the name! It thrilled him inexpressibly, bringing a tenderness into
+his eyes and a glow into his bosom. He felt that when he should smoke
+a Little Sweetheart it would be a tribute to the ineffable visitor for
+whom this party was being given--it would bring her closer to him. His
+young brow grew almost stern with determination, for he made up his
+mind, on the spot, that he would smoke oftener in the future--he would
+become a confirmed smoker, and all his life he would smoke My Little
+Sweetheart All-Tobacco Cuban Cigarettes.
+
+He entered and managed to make his purchase in a matter-of-fact way, as
+if he were doing something quite unemotional; then he said to the clerk:
+
+“Oh, by the by--ah--”
+
+The clerk stared. “Well, what else?”
+
+“I mean,” said William, hurriedly, “there's something I wanted to 'tend
+to, now I happen to be here. I was on my way to take this overcoat
+to--to get something altered at the tailor's for next winter. 'Course
+I wouldn't want it till winter, but I thought I might as well get it
+DONE.” He paused, laughing carelessly, for greater plausibility. “I
+thought he'd prob'ly want lots of time on the job--he's a slow worker,
+I've noticed--and so I decided I might just as well go ahead and let him
+get at it. Well, so I was on my way there, but I just noticed I only
+got about six minutes more to get to a mighty important engagement I got
+this morning, and I'd like to leave it here and come by and get it on my
+way home, this evening.”
+
+“Sure,” said the clerk. “Hang it on that hook inside the
+p'scription-counter. There's one there already, b'longs to your friend,
+that young Bullitt fella. He was in here awhile ago and said he wanted
+to leave his because he didn't have time to take it to be pressed in
+time for next winter. Then he went on and joined that crowd in Mr.
+Parcher's yard, around the corner, that's goin' on a trolley-party. I
+says, 'I betcher mother maje carry it,' and he says, 'Oh no. Oh no,' he
+says. 'Honest, I was goin' to get it pressed!' You can hang yours on the
+same nail.”
+
+The clerk spoke no more, and went to serve another customer, while
+William stared after him a little uneasily. It seemed that here was a
+man of suspicious nature, though, of course, Joe Bullitt's shallow talk
+about getting an overcoat pressed before winter would not have imposed
+upon anybody. However, William felt strongly that the private life of
+the customers of a store should not be pried into and speculated about
+by employees, and he was conscious of a distaste for this clerk.
+
+Nevertheless, it was with a lighter heart that he left his overcoat
+behind him and stepped out of the side door of the drug-store. That
+brought him within sight of the gaily dressed young people, about thirty
+in number, gathered upon the small lawn beside Mr. Parcher's house.
+
+Miss Pratt stood among them, in heliotrope and white, Flopit nestling in
+her arms. She was encircled by girls who were enthusiastically caressing
+the bored and blinking Flopit; and when William beheld this charming
+group, his breath became eccentric, his knee-caps became cold and
+convulsive, his neck became hot, and he broke into a light perspiration.
+
+She saw him! The small blonde head and the delirious little fluffy hat
+above it shimmered a nod to him. Then his mouth fell unconsciously open,
+and his eyes grew glassy with the intensity of meaning he put into
+the silent response he sent across the picket fence and through the
+interstices of the intervening group. Pressing with his elbow upon the
+package of cigarettes in his pocket, he murmured, inaudibly, “My Little
+Sweetheart, always for you!”--a repetition of his vow that, come what
+might, he would forever remain a loyal smoker of that symbolic brand. In
+fact, William's mental condition had never shown one moment's turn for
+the better since the fateful day of the distracting visitor's arrival.
+
+Mr. Johnnie Watson and Mr. Joe Bullitt met him at the gate and offered
+him hearty greeting. All bickering and dissension among these three had
+passed. The lady was so wondrous impartial that, as time went on, the
+sufferers had come to be drawn together, rather than thrust asunder, by
+their common feeling. It had grown to be a bond uniting them; they
+were not so much rivals as ardent novices serving a single altar, each
+worshiping there without visible gain over the other. Each had even come
+to possess, in the eyes of his two fellows, almost a sacredness as a
+sharer in the celestial glamor; they were tender one with another. They
+were in the last stages.
+
+Johnnie Watson had with him to-day a visitor of his own--a vastly
+overgrown person of eighteen, who, at Johnnie's beckoning, abandoned
+a fair companion of the moment and came forward as William entered the
+gate.
+
+“I want to intradooce you to two of my most int'mut friends, George,”
+ said Johnnie, with the anxious gravity of a person about to do something
+important and unfamiliar. “Mr. Baxter, let me intradooce my cousin,
+Mr. Crooper. Mr. Crooper, this is my friend, Mr. Baxter.”
+
+The gentlemen shook hands solemnly, saying,
+
+“'M very glad to meet you,” and Johnnie turned to Joe Bullitt. “Mr.
+Croo--I mean, Mr. Bullitt, let me intradooce my friend, Mr. Crooper--I
+mean my cousin, Mr. Crooper. Mr. Crooper is a cousin of mine.”
+
+“Glad to make your acquaintance, Mr. Crooper,” said Joe. “I suppose
+you're a cousin of Johnnie's, then?”
+
+“Yep,” said Mr. Crooper, becoming more informal. “Johnnie wrote me
+to come over for this shindig, so I thought I might as well come.”
+ He laughed loudly, and the others laughed with the same heartiness.
+“Yessir,” he added, “I thought I might as well come, 'cause I'm pretty
+apt to be on hand if there's anything doin'!”
+
+“Well, that's right,” said William, and while they all laughed again,
+Mr. Crooper struck his cousin a jovial blow upon the back.
+
+“Hi, ole sport!” he cried, “I want to meet that Miss Pratt before we
+start. The car'll be along pretty soon, and I got her picked for the
+girl I'm goin' to sit by.”
+
+The laughter of William and Joe Bullitt, designed to express cordiality,
+suddenly became flaccid and died. If Mr. Crooper had been a sensitive
+person he might have perceived the chilling disapproval in their
+glances, for they had just begun to be most unfavorably impressed with
+him. The careless loudness--almost the notoriety--with which he had
+uttered Miss Pratt's name, demanding loosely to be presented to her,
+regardless of the well-known law that a lady must first express some
+wish in such matters--these were indications of a coarse nature sure
+to be more than uncongenial to Miss Pratt. Its presence might make the
+whole occasion distasteful to her--might spoil her day. Both William and
+Joe Bullitt began to wonder why on earth Johnnie Watson didn't have
+any more sense than to invite such a big, fat lummox of a cousin to the
+party.
+
+This severe phrase of theirs, almost simultaneous in the two minds, was
+not wholly a failure as a thumb-nail sketch of Mr. George Crooper. And
+yet there was the impressiveness of size about him, especially about
+his legs and chin. At seventeen and eighteen growth is still going on,
+sometimes in a sporadic way, several parts seeming to have sprouted
+faster than others. Often the features have not quite settled down
+together in harmony, a mouth, for instance, appearing to have gained
+such a lead over the rest of a face, that even a mother may fear it
+can never be overtaken. Voices, too, often seem misplaced; one hears,
+outside the door, the bass rumble of a sinister giant, and a mild boy,
+thin as a cricket, walks in. The contrary was George Crooper's case;
+his voice was an unexpected piping tenor, half falsetto and frequently
+girlish--as surprising as the absurd voice of an elephant.
+
+He had the general outwardness of a vast and lumpy child. His chin had
+so distanced his other features that his eyes, nose, and brow seemed
+almost baby-like in comparison, while his mountainous legs were the
+great part of the rest of him. He was one of those huge, bottle-shaped
+boys who are always in motion in spite of their cumbersomeness. His
+gestures were continuous, though difficult to interpret as bearing
+upon the subject of his equally continuous conversation; and under all
+circumstances he kept his conspicuous legs incessantly moving, whether
+he was going anywhere or remaining in comparatively one spot.
+
+His expression was pathetically offensive, the result of his bland
+confidence in the audible opinions of a small town whereof his father
+was the richest inhabitant--and the one thing about him, even more
+obvious than his chin, his legs, and his spectacular taste in flannels,
+was his perfect trust that he was as welcome to every one as he was to
+his mother. This might some day lead him in the direction of great pain,
+but on the occasion of the “subscription party” for Miss Pratt it gave
+him an advantage.
+
+“When do I get to meet that cutie?” he insisted, as Johnnie Watson moved
+backward from the cousinly arm, which threatened further flailing. “You
+intradooced me to about seven I can't do much FOR, but I want to get the
+howdy business over with this Miss Pratt, so I and she can get things
+started. I'm goin' to keep her busy all day!”
+
+“Well, don't be in such a hurry,” said Johnnie, uneasily. “You can meet
+her when we get out in the country--if I get a chance, George.”
+
+“No, sir!” George protested, jovially. “I guess you're sad birds over in
+this town, but look out! When I hit a town it don't take long till they
+all hear there's something doin'! You know how I am when I get
+started, Johnnie!” Here he turned upon William, tucking his fat arm
+affectionately through William's thin one. “Hi, sport! Ole Johnnie's so
+slow, YOU toddle me over and get me fixed up with this Miss Pratt, and
+I'll tell her you're the real stuff--after we get engaged!”
+
+He was evidently a true cloud-compeller, this horrible George.
+
+
+
+
+XIX
+
+“I DUNNO WHY IT IS”
+
+William extricated his arm, huskily muttering words which were lost in
+the general outcry, “Car's coming!” The young people poured out through
+the gate, and, as the car stopped, scrambled aboard. For a moment
+everything was hurried and confused. William struggled anxiously to push
+through to Miss Pratt and climb up beside her, but Mr. George Crooper
+made his way into the crowd in a beaming, though bull-like manner, and a
+fat back in a purple-and-white “blazer” flattened William's nose, while
+ponderous heels damaged William's toes; he was shoved back, and just
+managed to clamber upon the foot-board as the car started. The friendly
+hand of Joe Bullitt pulled him to a seat, and William found himself
+rubbing his nose and sitting between Joe and Johnnie Watson, directly
+behind the dashing Crooper and Miss Pratt. Mr. Crooper had already taken
+Flopit upon his lap.
+
+“Dogs are always crazy 'bout me,” they heard him say, for his high voice
+was but too audible over all other sounds. “Dogs and chuldren. I dunno
+why it is, but they always take to me. My name's George Crooper, Third,
+Johnnie Watson's cousin. He was tryin' to intradooce me before the car
+came along, but he never got the chance. I guess as this shindig's
+for you, and I'm the only other guest from out o' town, we'll have to
+intradooce ourselves--the two guests of honor, as it were.”
+
+Miss Pratt laughed her silvery laugh, murmured politely, and turned no
+freezing glance upon her neighbor. Indeed, it seemed that she was far
+from regarding him with the distaste anticipated by William and Joe
+Bullitt. “Flopit look so toot an' tunnin',” she was heard to remark.
+“Flopit look so 'ittle on dray, big, 'normous man's lap.”
+
+Mr. Crooper laughed deprecatingly. “He does look kind of small compared
+with the good ole man that's got charge of him, now! Well, I always was
+a good deal bigger than the fellas I went with. I dunno why it is, but
+I was always kind of quicker, too, as it were--and the strongest in any
+crowd I ever got with. I'm kind of musclebound, I guess, but I don't let
+that interfere with my quickness any. Take me in an automobile, now--I
+got a racin'-car at home--and I keep my head better than most people do,
+as it were. I can kind of handle myself better; I dunno why it is. My
+brains seem to work better than other people's, that's all it is. I
+don't mean that I got more sense, or anything like that; it's just the
+way my brains work; they kind of put me at an advantage, as it were.
+Well, f'rinstance, if I'd been livin' here in this town and joined in
+with the crowd to get up this party, well, it would of been done a good
+deal diff'rent. I won't say better, but diff'rent. That's always the
+way with me if I go into anything, pretty soon I'm running the whole
+shebang; I dunno why it is. The other people might try to run it their
+way for a while, but pretty soon you notice 'em beginning to step out
+of the way for good ole George. I dunno why it is, but that's the way it
+goes. Well, if I'd been running THIS party I'd of had automobiles to go
+out in, not a trolley-car where you all got to sit together--and I'd
+of sent over home for my little racer and I'd of taken you out in her
+myself. I wish I'd of sent for it, anyway. We could of let the rest go
+out in the trolley, and you and I could of got off by ourselves: I'd
+like you to see that little car. Well, anyway, I bet you'd of seen
+something pretty different and a whole lot better if I'd of come over to
+this town in time to get up this party for you!”
+
+“For US,” Miss Pratt corrected him, sunnily.
+
+“Bofe strangers--party for us two--all bofe!” And she gave him one of
+her looks.
+
+Mr. Crooper flushed with emotion; he was annexed; he became serious.
+“Say,” he said, “that's a mighty smooth hat you got on.” And he touched
+the fluffy rim of it with his forefinger. His fat shoulders leaned
+toward her yearningly.
+
+“We'd cert'nly of had a lot better time sizzin' along in that little
+racer I got,” he said. “I'd like to had you see how I handle that little
+car. Girls over home, they say they like to go out with me just to watch
+the way I handle her; they say it ain't so much just the ride, but more
+the way I handle that little car. I dunno why it is, but that's what
+they say. That's the way I do anything I make up my mind to tackle,
+though. I don't try to tackle everything--there's lots o' things I
+wouldn't take enough interest in 'em, as it were--but just lemme make up
+my mind once, and it's all off; I dunno why it is. There was a brakeman
+on the train got kind of fresh: he didn't know who I was. Well, I
+just put my hand on his shoulder and pushed him down in his seat like
+this”--he set his hand upon Miss Pratt's shoulder. “I didn't want to hit
+him, because there was women and chuldren in the car, so I just shoved
+my face up close to him, like this. 'I guess you don't know how much
+stock my father's got in this road,' I says. Did he wilt? Well, you
+ought of seen that brakeman when I got through tellin' him who I was!”
+
+“Nassy ole brateman!” said Miss Pratt, with unfailing sympathy.
+
+Mr. Crooper's fat hand, as if unconsciously, gave Miss Pratt's delicate
+shoulder a little pat in reluctant withdrawal. “Well, that's the way
+with me,” he said. “Much as I been around this world, nobody ever tried
+to put anything over on me and got away with it. They always come out
+the little end o' the horn; I dunno why it is. Say, that's a mighty
+smooth locket you got on the end o' that chain, there.” And again
+stretching forth his hand, in a proprietor-like way, he began to examine
+the locket.
+
+Three hot hearts, just behind, pulsated hatred toward him; for Johnnie
+Watson had perceived his error, and his sentiments were now linked
+to those of Joe Bullitt and William. The unhappiness of these three
+helpless spectators was the more poignant because not only were they
+witnesses of the impression of greatness which George Crooper was
+obviously producing upon Miss Pratt, but they were unable to prevent
+themselves from being likewise impressed.
+
+They were not analytical; they dumbly accepted George at his own rating,
+not even being able to charge him with lack of modesty. Did he not
+always accompany his testimonials to himself with his deprecating
+falsetto laugh and “I dunno why it is,” an official disclaimer of merit,
+“as it were”? Here was a formidable candidate, indeed--a traveler, a man
+of the world, with brains better and quicker than other people's brains;
+an athlete, yet knightly--he would not destroy even a brakeman in the
+presence of women and children--and, finally, most enviable and deadly,
+the owner and operator of a “little racer”! All this glitter was not far
+short of overpowering; and yet, though accepting it as fact, the woeful
+three shared the inconsistent belief that in spite of everything George
+was nothing but a big, fat lummox. For thus they even rather loudly
+whispered of him--almost as if hopeful that Miss Pratt, and mayhap
+George himself, might overhear.
+
+Impotent their seething! The overwhelming Crooper pursued his conquering
+way. He leaned more and more toward the magnetic girl, his growing
+tenderness having that effect upon him, and his head inclining so
+far that his bedewed brow now and then touched the fluffy hat. He was
+constitutionally restless, but his movements never ended by placing a
+greater distance between himself and Miss Pratt, though they sometimes
+discommoded Miss Parcher, who sat at the other side of him--a side of
+him which appeared to be without consciousness. He played naively with
+Miss Pratt's locket and with the filmy border of her collar; he flicked
+his nose for some time with her little handkerchief, loudly sniffing its
+scent; and finally he became interested in a ring she wore, removed it,
+and tried unsuccessfully to place it upon one of his own fingers.
+
+“I've worn lots o' girls' rings on my watch-fob. I'd let 'em wear mine
+on a chain or something. I guess they like to do that with me,” he said.
+“I dunno why it is.”
+
+At this subtle hint the three unfortunates held their breath, and then
+lost it as the lovely girl acquiesced in the horrible exchange. As for
+William, life was of no more use to him. Out of the blue heaven of that
+bright morning's promise had fallen a pall, draping his soul in black
+and purple. He had been horror-stricken when first the pudgy finger of
+George Crooper had touched the fluffy edge of that sacred little hat;
+then, during George's subsequent pawings and leanings, William felt that
+he must either rise and murder or go mad. But when the exchange of rings
+was accomplished, his spirit broke and even resentment oozed away. For a
+time there was no room in him for anything except misery.
+
+Dully, William's eyes watched the fat shoulders hitching and twitching,
+while the heavy arms flourished in gesture and in further pawings.
+Again and again were William's ears afflicted with, “I dunno why it is,”
+ following upon tribute after tribute paid by Mr. Crooper to himself, and
+received with little cries of admiration and sweet child-words on the
+part of Miss Pratt. It was a long and accursed ride.
+
+
+
+
+XX
+
+SYDNEY CARTON
+
+At the farm-house where the party were to dine, Miss Pratt with joy
+discovered a harmonium in the parlor, and, seating herself, with all the
+girls, Flopit, and Mr. George Crooper gathered around her, she played
+an accompaniment, while George, in a thin tenor of detestable sweetness,
+sang “I'm Falling in Love with Some One.”
+
+His performance was rapturously greeted, especially by the accompanist.
+“Oh, wunnerfulest Untle Georgiecums!” she cried, for that was now the
+gentleman's name. “If Johnnie McCormack hear Untle Georgiecums he
+go shoot umself dead--Bang!” She looked round to where three figures
+hovered morosely in the rear. “Tum on, sin' chorus, Big Bruvva
+Josie-Joe, Johnny Jump-up, an' Ickle Boy Baxter. All over adain, Untle
+Georgiecums! Boys an' dirls all sin' chorus. Tummence!”
+
+And so the heartrending performance continued until it was stopped by
+Wallace Banks, the altruistic and perspiring youth who had charge of
+the subscription-list for the party, and the consequent collection of
+assessments. This entitled Wallace to look haggard and to act as master
+of ceremonies. He mounted a chair.
+
+“Ladies and gentlemen,” he bellowed, “I want to say--that is--ah--I am
+requested to announce t that before dinner we're all supposed to take a
+walk around the farm and look at things, as this is supposed to be kind
+of a model farm or supposed to be something like that. There's a Swedish
+lady named Anna going to show us around. She's out in the yard waiting,
+so please follow her to inspect the farm.”
+
+To inspect a farm was probably the least of William's desires. He wished
+only to die in some quiet spot and to have Miss Pratt told about it in
+words that would show her what she had thrown away. But he followed
+with the others, in the wake of the Swedish lady named Anna, and as they
+stood in the cavernous hollow of the great barn he found his condition
+suddenly improved.
+
+Miss Pratt turned to him unexpectedly and placed Flopit in his arms.
+“Keep p'eshus Flopit cozy,” she whispered. “Flopit love ole friends
+best!”
+
+William's heart leaped, while a joyous warmth spread all over him. And
+though the execrable lummox immediately propelled Miss Pratt forward--by
+her elbow--to hear the descriptive remarks of the Swedish lady named
+Anna, William's soul remained uplifted and entranced. She had not said
+“like”; she had said, “Flopit LOVE ole friends best”! William pressed
+forward valiantly, and placed himself as close as possible upon the
+right of Miss Pratt, the lummox being upon her left. A moment later,
+William wished that he had remained in the rear.
+
+This was due to the unnecessary frankness of the Swedish lady
+named Anna, who was briefly pointing out the efficiency of various
+agricultural devices. Her attention being diverted by some effusions of
+pride on the part of a passing hen, she thought fit to laugh and say:
+
+“She yust laid egg.”
+
+William shuddered. This grossness in the presence of Miss Pratt was
+unthinkable. His mind refused to deal with so impossible a situation; he
+could not accept it as a fact that such words had actually been uttered
+in such a presence. And yet it was the truth; his incredulous ears
+still sizzled. “She yust laid egg!” His entire skin became flushed; his
+averted eyes glazed themselves with shame.
+
+He was not the only person shocked by the ribaldry of the Swedish lady
+named Anna. Joe Bullitt and Johnnie Watson, on the outskirts of the
+group, went to Wallace Banks, drew him aside, and, with feverish
+eloquence, set his responsibilities before him. It was his duty, they
+urged, to have an immediate interview with this free-spoken Anna and
+instruct her in the proprieties. Wallace had been almost as horrified as
+they by her loose remark, but he declined the office they proposed for
+him, offering, however, to appoint them as a committee with authority
+in the matter--whereupon they retorted with unreasonable indignation,
+demanding to know what he took them for.
+
+Unconscious of the embarrassment she had caused in these several
+masculine minds, the Swedish lady named Anna led the party onward,
+continuing her agricultural lecture. William walked mechanically, his
+eyes averted and looking at no one. And throughout this agony he was
+burningly conscious of the blasphemed presence of Miss Pratt beside him.
+
+Therefore, it was with no little surprise, when the party came out of
+the barn, that William beheld Miss Pratt, not walking at his side, but
+on the contrary, sitting too cozily with George Crooper upon a fallen
+tree at the edge of a peach-orchard just beyond the barn-yard. It was
+Miss Parcher who had been walking beside him, for the truant couple had
+made their escape at the beginning of the Swedish lady's discourse.
+
+In vain William murmured to himself, “Flopit love ole friends best.”
+ Purple and black again descended upon his soul, for he could not
+disguise from himself the damnatory fact that George had flitted with
+the lady, while he, wretched William, had been permitted to take care of
+the dog!
+
+A spark of dignity still burned within him. He strode to the barn-yard
+fence, and, leaning over it, dropped Flopit rather brusquely at his
+mistress's feet. Then, without a word even without a look--William
+walked haughtily away, continuing his stern progress straight through
+the barn-yard gate, and thence onward until he found himself in solitude
+upon the far side of a smoke-house, where his hauteur vanished.
+
+Here, in the shade of a great walnut-tree which sheltered the little
+building, he gave way--not to tears, certainly, but to faint murmurings
+and little heavings under impulses as ancient as young love itself. It
+is to be supposed that William considered his condition a lonely one,
+but if all the seventeen-year-olds who have known such halfhours could
+have shown themselves to him then, he would have fled from the mere
+horror of billions. Alas! he considered his sufferings a new invention
+in the world, and there was now inspired in his breast a monologue so
+eloquently bitter that it might deserve some such title as A Passion
+Beside the Smoke-house. During the little time that William spent in
+this sequestration he passed through phases of emotion which would have
+kept an older man busy for weeks and left him wrecked at the end of
+them.
+
+William's final mood was one of beautiful resignation with a kick in
+it; that is, he nobly gave her up to George and added irresistibly that
+George was a big, fat lummox! Painting pictures, such as the billions
+of other young sufferers before him have painted, William saw himself
+a sad, gentle old bachelor at the family fireside, sometimes making the
+sacrifice of his reputation so that SHE and the children might never
+know the truth about George; and he gave himself the solace of a fierce
+scene or two with George: “Remember, it is for them, not you--you
+THING!”
+
+After this human little reaction he passed to a higher field of romance.
+He would die for George and then she would bring the little boy she had
+named William to the lonely headstone--Suddenly William saw himself in
+his true and fitting character--Sydney Carton! He had lately read A Tale
+of Two Cities, immediately re-reading until, as he would have said,
+he “knew it by heart”; and even at the time he had seen resemblances
+between himself and the appealing figure of Carton. Now that the
+sympathy between them was perfected by Miss Pratt's preference for
+another, William decided to mount the scaffold in place of George
+Crooper. The scene became actual to him, and, setting one foot upon a
+tin milk-pail which some one had carelessly left beside the smoke-house,
+he lifted his eyes to the pitiless blue sky and unconsciously assumed
+the familiar attitude of Carton on the steps of the guillotine. He spoke
+aloud those great last words:
+
+“It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a
+far, far better rest that I go to--”
+
+A whiskered head on the end of a long, corrugated red neck protruded
+from the smokehouse door.
+
+“What say?” it inquired, huskily.
+
+“Nun-nothing!” stammered William.
+
+Eyes above whiskers became fierce. “You take your feet off that
+milk-bucket. Say! This here's a sanitary farm. 'Ain't you got any more
+sense 'n to go an'--”
+
+But William had abruptly removed his foot and departed.
+
+He found the party noisily established in the farm-house at two long
+tables piled with bucolic viands already being violently depleted.
+Johnnie Watson had kept a chair beside himself vacant for William.
+Johnnie was in no frame of mind to sit beside any “chattering girl,”
+ and he had protected himself by Joe Bullitt upon his right and the empty
+seat upon his left. William took it, and gazed upon the nearer foods
+with a slight renewal of animation.
+
+He began to eat; he continued to eat; in fact, he did well. So did his
+two comrades. Not that the melancholy of these three was dispersed--far
+from it! With ineffaceable gloom they ate chicken, both white meat and
+dark, drumsticks, wishbones, and livers; they ate corn-on-the-cob, many
+ears, and fried potatoes and green peas and string-beans; they ate peach
+preserves and apricot preserves and preserved pears; they ate biscuits
+with grape jelly and biscuits with crabapple jelly; they ate apple sauce
+and apple butter and apple pie. They ate pickles, both cucumber pickles
+and pickles made of watermelon rind; they ate pickled tomatoes, pickled
+peppers, also pickled onions. They ate lemon pie.
+
+At that, they were no rivals to George Crooper, who was a real eater.
+Love had not made his appetite ethereal to-day, and even the attending
+Swedish lady named Anna felt some apprehension when it came to George
+and the gravy, though she was accustomed to the prodigies performed in
+this line by the robust hands on the farm. George laid waste his section
+of the table, and from the beginning he allowed himself scarce time
+to say, “I dunno why it is.” The pretty companion at his side at first
+gazed dumfounded; then, with growing enthusiasm for what promised to be
+a really magnificent performance, she began to utter little ejaculations
+of wonder and admiration. With this music in his ears, George outdid
+himself. He could not resist the temptation to be more and more
+astonishing as a heroic comedian, for these humors sometimes come upon
+vain people at country dinners.
+
+George ate when he had eaten more than he needed; he ate long after
+every one understood why he was so vast; he ate on and on sheerly as
+a flourish--as a spectacle. He ate even when he himself began to
+understand that there was daring in what he did, for his was a toreador
+spirit so long as he could keep bright eyes fastened upon him.
+
+Finally, he ate to decide wagers made upon his gorging, though at times
+during this last period his joviality deserted him. Anon his damp brow
+would be troubled, and he knew moments of thoughtfulness.
+
+
+
+
+XXI
+
+MY LITTLE SWEETHEARTS
+
+When George did stop, it was abruptly, during one of these intervals of
+sobriety, and he and Miss Pratt came out of the house together rather
+quietly, joining one of the groups of young people chatting with
+after-dinner languor under the trees. However, Mr. Crooper began to
+revive presently, in the sweet air of outdoors, and, observing some
+of the more flashing gentlemen lighting cigarettes, he was moved to
+laughter. He had not smoked since his childhood--having then been bonded
+through to twenty-one with a pledge of gold--and he feared that these
+smoking youths might feel themselves superior. Worse, Miss Pratt might
+be impressed, therefore he laughed in scorn, saying:
+
+“Burnin' up ole trash around here, I expect!” He sniffed searchingly.
+“Somebody's set some ole rags on fire.” Then, as in discovery, he cried,
+“Oh no, only cigarettes!”
+
+Miss Pratt, that tactful girl, counted four smokers in the group about
+her, and only one abstainer, George. She at once defended the smokers,
+for it is to be feared that numbers always had weight with her. “Oh, but
+cigarettes is lubly smell!” she said. “Untle Georgiecums maybe be too
+'ittle boy for smokings!”
+
+This archness was greeted loudly by the smokers, and Mr. Crooper was
+put upon his mettle. He spoke too quickly to consider whether or no the
+facts justified his assertion. “Me? I don't smoke paper and ole carpets.
+I smoke cigars!”
+
+He had created the right impression, for Miss Pratt clapped her hands.
+“Oh, 'plendid! Light one, Untle Georgiecums! Light one ever 'n' ever so
+quick! P'eshus Flopit an' me we want see dray, big, 'normous man smoke
+dray, big, 'normous cigar!”
+
+William and Johnnie Watson, who had been hovering morbidly, unable to
+resist the lodestone, came nearer, Johnnie being just in time to hear
+his cousin's reply.
+
+“I--I forgot my cigar-case.”
+
+Johnnie's expression became one of biting skepticism. “What you talkin'
+about, George? Didn't you promise Uncle George you'd never smoke till
+you're of age, and Uncle George said he'd give you a thousand dollars on
+your twenty-first birthday? What 'd you say about your 'cigar-case'?”
+
+George felt that he was in a tight place, and the lovely eyes of Miss
+Pratt turned upon him questioningly. He could not flush, for he was
+already so pink after his exploits with unnecessary nutriment that more
+pinkness was impossible. He saw that the only safety for him lay in
+boisterous prevarication. “A thousand dollars!” he laughed loudly. “I
+thought that was real money when I was ten years old! It didn't stand in
+MY way very long, I guess! Good ole George wanted his smoke, and he went
+after it! You know how I am, Johnnie, when I go after anything. I been
+smokin' cigars I dunno how long!” Glancing about him, his eye became
+reassured; it was obvious that even Johnnie had accepted this airy
+statement as the truth, and to clinch plausibility he added: “When I
+smoke, I smoke! I smoke cigars straight along--light one right on the
+stub of the other. I only wish I had some with me, because I miss 'em
+after a meal. I'd give a good deal for something to smoke right now! I
+don't mean cigarettes; I don't want any paper--I want something that's
+all tobacco!”
+
+William's pale, sad face showed a hint of color. With a pang he
+remembered the package of My Little Sweetheart All-Tobacco Cuban
+Cigarettes (the Package of Twenty for Ten Cents) which still reposed,
+untouched, in the breast pocket of his coat. His eyes smarted a little
+as he recalled the thoughts and hopes that had accompanied the purchase;
+but he thought, “What would Sydney Carton do?”
+
+William brought forth the package of My Little Sweetheart All-Tobacco
+Cuban Cigarettes and placed it in the large hand of George Crooper. And
+this was a noble act, for William believed that George really wished to
+smoke. “Here,” he said, “take these; they're all tobacco. I'm goin' to
+quit smokin', anyway.” And, thinking of the name, he added, gently, with
+a significance lost upon all his hearers, “I'm sure you ought to have
+'em instead of me.”
+
+Then he went away and sat alone upon the fence.
+
+“Light one, light one!” cried Miss Pratt. “Ev'ybody mus' be happy, an'
+dray, big, 'normous man tan't be happy 'less he have his all-tobatto
+smote. Light it, light it!”
+
+George drew as deep a breath as his diaphragm, strangely oppressed since
+dinner, would permit, and then bravely lit a Little Sweetheart. There
+must have been some valiant blood in him, for, as he exhaled the smoke,
+he covered a slight choking by exclaiming, loudly: “THAT'S good! That's
+the ole stuff! That's what I was lookin' for!”
+
+Miss Pratt was entranced. “Oh, 'plendid!” she cried, watching him with
+fascinated eyes. “Now take dray, big, 'normous puffs! Take dray, big,
+'NORMOUS puffs!”
+
+George took great, big, enormous puffs.
+
+She declared that she loved to watch men smoke, and William's heart, as
+he sat on the distant fence, was wrung and wrung again by the vision of
+her playful ecstasies. But when he saw her holding what was left of the
+first Little Sweetheart for George to light a second at its expiring
+spark, he could not bear it. He dropped from the fence and moped away to
+be out of sight once more. This was his darkest hour.
+
+Studiously avoiding the vicinity of the smokehouse, he sought the little
+orchard where he had beheld her sitting with George; and there he sat
+himself in sorrowful reverie upon the selfsame fallen tree. How long
+he remained there is uncertain, but he was roused by the sound of music
+which came from the lawn before the farmhouse. Bitterly he smiled,
+remembering that Wallace Banks had engaged Italians with harp, violin,
+and flute, promising great things for dancing on a fresh-clipped lawn--a
+turf floor being no impediment to seventeen's dancing. Music! To see her
+whirling and smiling sunnily in the fat grasp of that dancing bear! He
+would stay in this lonely orchard; SHE would not miss him.
+
+But though he hated the throbbing music and the sound of the laughing
+voices that came to him, he could not keep away--and when he reached the
+lawn where the dancers were, he found Miss Pratt moving rhythmically in
+the thin grasp of Wallace Banks. Johnnie Watson approached, and spoke in
+a low tone, tinged with spiteful triumph.
+
+“Well, anyway, ole fat George didn't get the first dance with her! She's
+the guest of honor, and Wallace had a right to it because he did all the
+work. He came up to 'em and ole fat George couldn't say a thing. Wallace
+just took her right away from him. George didn't say anything at all,
+but I s'pose after this dance he'll be rushin' around again and nobody
+else 'll have a chance to get near her the rest of the afternoon. My
+mother told me I ought to invite him over here, out I had no business
+to do it; he don't know the first principles of how to act in a town he
+don't live in!”
+
+“Where'd he go?” William asked, listlessly, for Mr. Crooper was nowhere
+in sight.
+
+“I don't know--he just walked off without sayin' anything. But he'll be
+back, time this dance is over, never you fear, and he'll grab her again
+and--What's the matter with Joe?”
+
+Joseph Bullitt had made his appearance at a corner of the house, some
+distance from where they stood. His face was alert under the impulse of
+strong excitement, and he beckoned fiercely. “Come here!” And, when they
+had obeyed, “He's around back of the house by a kind of shed,” said Joe.
+“I think something's wrong. Come on, I'll show him to you.”
+
+But behind the house, whither they followed him in vague, strange hope,
+he checked them. “LOOK THERE!” he said.
+
+His pointing finger was not needed. Sounds of paroxysm drew their
+attention sufficiently--sounds most poignant, soul-rending, and
+lugubrious. William and Johnnie perceived the large person of Mr.
+Crooper; he was seated upon the ground, his back propped obliquely
+against the smoke-house, though this attitude was not maintained
+constantly.
+
+Facing him, at a little distance, a rugged figure in homely garments
+stood leaning upon a hoe and regarding George with a cold interest. The
+apex of this figure was a volcanic straw hat, triangular in profile and
+coned with an open crater emitting reddish wisps, while below the
+hat were several features, but more whiskers, at the top of a long,
+corrugated red neck of sterling worth. A husky voice issued from the
+whiskers, addressing George.
+
+“I seen you!” it said. “I seen you eatin'! This here farm is supposed to
+be a sanitary farm, and you'd ought of knew better. Go it, doggone you!
+Go it!”
+
+George complied. And three spectators, remaining aloof, but watching
+zealously, began to feel their lost faith in Providence returning into
+them; their faces brightened slowly, and without relapse. It was a
+visible thing how the world became fairer and better in their eyes
+during that little while they stood there. And William saw that his
+Little Sweethearts had been an inspired purchase, after all; they had
+delivered the final tap upon a tottering edifice. George's deeds at
+dinner had unsettled, but Little Sweethearts had overthrown--and now
+there was awful work among the ruins, to an ironical accompaniment of
+music from the front yard, where people danced in heaven's sunshine!
+
+This accompaniment came to a stop, and Johnnie Watson jumped. He seized
+each of his companions by a sleeve and spoke eagerly, his eyes glowing
+with a warm and brotherly light. “Here!” he cried. “We better get around
+there--this looks like it was goin' to last all afternoon. Joe, you
+get the next dance with her, and just about time the music slows up you
+dance her around so you can stop right near where Bill will be standin',
+so Bill can get her quick for the dance after that. Then, Bill, you do
+the same for me, and I'll do the same for Joe again, and then, Joe, you
+do it for Bill again, and then Bill for me--and so on. If we go in right
+now and work together we can crowd the rest out, and there won't anybody
+else get to dance with her the whole day! Come on quick!”
+
+United in purpose, the three ran lightly to the dancing-lawn, and Mr.
+Bullitt was successful, after a little debate, in obtaining the next
+dance with the lovely guest of the day. “I did promise big Untle
+Georgiecums,” she said, looking about her.
+
+“Well, I don't think he'll come,” said Joe. “That is, I'm pretty sure he
+won't.”
+
+A shade fell upon the exquisite face. “No'ty. Bruvva Josie-Joe! The Men
+ALWAYS tum when Lola promises dances. Mustn't be rude!”
+
+“Well--” Joe began, when he was interrupted by the Swedish lady named
+Anna, who spoke to them from the steps of the house. Of the merrymakers
+they were the nearest.
+
+“Dot pick fella,” said Anna, “dot one dot eats--we make him in a
+petroom. He holler! He tank he neet some halp.”
+
+“Does he want a doctor?” Joe asked.
+
+“Doctor? No! He want make him in a amyoulance for hospital!”
+
+“I'll go look at him,” Johnnie Watson volunteered, running up. “He's my
+cousin, and I guess I got to take the responsibility.”
+
+Miss Pratt paid the invalid the tribute of one faintly commiserating
+glance toward the house. “Well,” she said, “if people would rather eat
+too much than dance!” She meant “dance with ME!” though she thought
+it prettier not to say so. “Come on, Bruvva Josie-Joe!” she cried,
+joyously.
+
+And a little later Johnnie Watson approached her where she stood with
+a restored and refulgent William, about to begin the succeeding dance.
+Johnnie dropped into her hand a ring, receiving one in return. “I
+thought I better GET it,” he said, offering no further explanation.
+“I'll take care of his until we get home. He's all right,” said Johnnie,
+and then perceiving a sudden advent of apprehension upon the sensitive
+brow of William, he went on reassuringly: “He's doin' as well as anybody
+could expect; that is--after the crazy way he DID! He's always been
+considered the dumbest one in all our relations--never did know how
+to act. I don't mean he's exactly not got his senses, or ought to be
+watched, anything like that--and of course he belongs to an awful
+good family--but he's just kind of the black sheep when it comes to
+intelligence, or anything like that. I got him as comfortable as a
+person could be, and they're givin' him hot water and mustard and stuff,
+but what he needs now is just to be kind of quiet. It'll do him a lot o'
+good,” Johnnie concluded, with a spark in his voice, “to lay there the
+rest of the afternoon and get quieted down, kind of.”
+
+“You don't think there's any--” William began, and, after a pause,
+continued--“any hope--of his getting strong enough to come out and dance
+afterwhile?”
+
+Johnnie shook his head. “None in the world!” he said, conclusively. “The
+best we can do for him is to let him entirely alone till after supper,
+and then ask nobody to sit on the back seat of the trolley-car goin'
+home, so we can make him comfortable back there, and let him kind of
+stretch out by himself.”
+
+Then gaily tinkled harp, gaily sang flute and violin! Over the
+greensward William lightly bore his lady, while radiant was the cleared
+sky above the happy dancers. William's fingers touched those delicate
+fingers; the exquisite face smiled rosily up to him; undreamable
+sweetness beat rhythmically upon his glowing ears; his feet moved in a
+rhapsody of companionship with hers. They danced and danced and danced!
+
+Then Joe danced with her, while William and Johnnie stood with hands
+upon each other's shoulders and watched, mayhap with longing, but
+without spite; then Johnnie danced with her while Joe and William
+watched--and then William danced with her again.
+
+So passed the long, ineffable afternoon away--ah, Seventeen!
+
+“... 'Jav a good time at the trolley-party?” the clerk in the corner
+drug-store inquired that evening.
+
+“Fine!” said William, taking his overcoat from the hook where he had
+left it.
+
+“How j' like them Little Sweethearts I sold you?”
+
+“FINE!” said William.
+
+
+
+
+XXII
+
+FORESHADOWINGS
+
+Now the last rose had blown; the dandelion globes were long since on the
+wind; gladioli and golden-glow and salvia were here; the season moved
+toward asters and the goldenrod. This haloed summer still idled on
+its way, yet all the while sped quickly; like some languid lady in an
+elevator.
+
+There came a Sunday--very hot.
+
+Mr. and Mrs. Baxter, having walked a scorched half-mile from church,
+drooped thankfully into wicker chairs upon their front porch, though
+Jane, who had accompanied them, immediately darted away, swinging her
+hat by its ribbon and skipping as lithesomely as if she had just come
+forth upon a cool morning.
+
+“I don't know how she does it!” her father moaned, glancing after her
+and drying his forehead temporarily upon a handkerchief. “That would
+merely kill me dead, after walking in this heat.”
+
+Then, for a time, the two were content to sit in silence, nodding
+to occasional acquaintances who passed in the desultory after-church
+procession. Mr. Baxter fanned himself with sporadic little bursts of
+energy which made his straw hat creak, and Mrs. Baxter sighed with the
+heat, and gently rocked her chair.
+
+But as a group of five young people passed along the other side of the
+street Mr. Baxter abruptly stopped fanning himself, and, following the
+direction of his gaze, Mrs. Baxter ceased to rock. In half-completed
+attitudes they leaned slightly forward, sharing one of those pauses of
+parents who unexpectedly behold their offspring.
+
+“My soul!” said William's father. “Hasn't that girl gone home YET?”
+
+“He looks pale to me,” Mrs. Baxter murmured, absently. “I don't think he
+seems at all well, lately.”
+
+During seventeen years Mr. Baxter had gradually learned not to protest
+anxieties of this kind, unless he desired to argue with no prospect
+of ever getting a decision. “Hasn't she got any HOME?” he demanded,
+testily. “Isn't she ever going to quit visiting the Parchers and let
+people have a little peace?”
+
+Mrs. Baxter disregarded this outburst as he had disregarded her remark
+about William's pallor. “You mean Miss Pratt?” she inquired, dreamily,
+her eyes following the progress of her son. “No, he really doesn't look
+well at all.”
+
+“Is she going to visit the Parchers all summer?” Mr. Baxter insisted.
+
+“She already has, about,” said Mrs. Baxter.
+
+“Look at that boy!” the father grumbled. “Mooning along with those other
+moon-calves--can't even let her go to church alone! I wonder how many
+weeks of time, counting it out in hours, he's wasted that way this
+summer?”
+
+“Oh, I don't know! You see, he never goes there in the evening.”
+
+“What of that? He's there all day, isn't he? What do they find to talk
+about? That's the mystery to me! Day after day; hours and hours--My
+soul! What do they SAY?”
+
+Mrs. Baxter laughed indulgently. “People are always wondering that about
+the other ages. Poor Willie! I think that a great deal of the time their
+conversation would be probably about as inconsequent as it is now. You
+see Willie and Joe Bullitt are walking one on each side of Miss Pratt,
+and Johnnie Watson has to walk behind with May Parcher. Joe and Johnnie
+are there about as much as Willie is, and, of course, it's often his
+turn to be nice to May Parcher. He hasn't many chances to be tete-a-tete
+with Miss Pratt.”
+
+“Well, she ought to go home. I want that boy to get back into his
+senses. He's in an awful state.”
+
+“I think she is going soon,” said Mrs. Baxter. “The Parchers are to have
+a dance for her Friday night, and I understand there's to be a floor
+laid in the yard and great things. It's a farewell party.”
+
+“That's one mercy, anyhow!”
+
+“And if you wonder what they say,” she resumed, “why, probably they're
+all talking about the party. And when Willie IS alone with her--well,
+what does anybody say?” Mrs. Baxter interrupted herself to laugh. “Jane,
+for instance--she's always fascinated by that darky, Genesis, when he's
+at work here in the yard, and they have long, long talks; I've seen them
+from the window. What on earth do you suppose they talk about? That's
+where Jane is now. She knew I told Genesis I'd give him something if
+he'd come and freeze the ice-cream for us to-day, and when we got here
+she heard the freezer and hopped right around there. If you went out to
+the back porch you'd find them talking steadily--but what on earth about
+I couldn't guess to save my life!”
+
+And yet nothing could have been simpler: as a matter of fact, Jane and
+Genesis (attended by Clematis) were talking about society. That is to
+say, their discourse was not sociologic; rather it was of the frivolous
+and elegant. Watteau prevailed with them over John Stuart Mill--in a
+word, they spoke of the beau monde.
+
+Genesis turned the handle of the freezer with his left hand, allowing
+his right the freedom of gesture which was an intermittent necessity
+when he talked. In the matter of dress, Genesis had always been among
+the most informal of his race, but to-day there was a change almost
+unnerving to the Caucasian eye. He wore a balloonish suit of purple,
+strangely scalloped at pocket and cuff, and more strangely decorated
+with lines of small parasite buttons, in color blue, obviously buttons
+of leisure. His bulbous new shoes flashed back yellow fire at the
+embarrassed sun, and his collar (for he had gone so far) sent forth
+other sparkles, playing upon a polished surface over an inner graining
+of soot. Beneath it hung a simple, white, soiled evening tie, draped in
+a manner unintended by its manufacturer, and heavily overburdened by a
+green glass medallion of the Emperor Tiberius, set in brass.
+
+“Yesm,” said Genesis. “Now I'm in 'at Swim--flyin' roun' ev'y night wif
+all lem blue-vein people--I say, 'Mus' go buy me some blue-vein clo'es!
+Ef I'm go'n' a START, might's well start HIGH!' So firs', I buy me
+thishere gol' necktie pin wi' thishere lady's face carved out o' green
+di'mon', sittin' in the middle all 'at gol'. 'Nen I buy me pair Royal
+King shoes. I got a frien' o' mine, thishere Blooie Bowers; he say Royal
+King shoes same kine o' shoes HE wear, an' I walk straight in 'at sto'
+where they keep 'em at. 'Don' was'e my time showin' me no ole-time
+shoes,' I say. 'Run out some them big, yella, lump-toed Royal Kings
+befo' my eyes, an' firs' pair fit me I pay price, an' wear 'em right off
+on me!' 'Nen I got me thishere suit o' clo'es--OH, oh! Sign on 'em in
+window: 'Ef you wish to be bes'-dress' man in town take me home fer six
+dolluhs ninety-sevum cents.' ''At's kine o' suit Genesis need,' I say.
+'Ef Genesis go'n' a start dressin' high, might's well start top!'”
+
+Jane nodded gravely, comprehending the reasonableness of this view.
+“What made you decide to start, Genesis?” she asked, earnestly. “I mean,
+how did it happen you began to get this way?”
+
+“Well, suh, 'tall come 'bout right like kine o' slidin' into it 'stid
+o' hoppin' an' jumpin'. I'z spen' the even' at 'at lady's house, Fanny,
+what cook nex' do', las' year. Well, suh, 'at lady Fanny, she quit
+privut cookin', she kaytliss--”
+
+“She's what?” Jane asked. “What's that mean, Genesis--kaytliss?”
+
+“She kaytuhs,” he explained. “Ef it's a man you call him kaytuh; ef it's
+a lady, she's a kaytliss. She does kaytun fer all lem blue-vein fam'lies
+in town. She make ref'eshmuns, bring waituhs--'at's kaytun. You' maw
+give big dinnuh, she have Fanny kaytuh, an' don't take no trouble 'tall
+herself. Fanny take all 'at trouble.”
+
+“I see,” said Jane. “But I don't see how her bein' a kaytliss started
+you to dressin' so high, Genesis.”
+
+“Thishere way. Fanny say, 'Look here, Genesis, I got big job t'morra
+night an' I'm man short, 'count o' havin' to have a 'nouncer.'”
+
+“A what?”
+
+“Fanny talk jes' that way. Goin' be big dinnuh-potty, an' thishere
+blue-vein fam'ly tell Fanny they want whole lot extry sploogin'; tell
+her put fine-lookin' cullud man stan' by drawin'-room do'--ask ev'ybody
+name an' holler out whatever name they say, jes' as they walk in.
+Thishere fam'ly say they goin' show what's what, 'nis town, an' they
+boun' Fanny go git 'em a 'nouncer. 'Well, what's mattuh YOU doin' 'at
+'nouncin'?' Fanny say. 'Who--me?' I tell her. 'Yes, you kin, too!' she
+say, an' she say she len' me 'at waituh suit yoosta b'long ole Henry
+Gimlet what die' when he owin' Fanny sixteen dolluhs--an' Fanny tuck
+an' keep 'at waituh suit. She use 'at suit on extry waituhs when she got
+some on her hands what 'ain't got no waituh suit. 'You wear 'at suit,'
+Fanny say, 'an' you be good 'nouncer, 'cause you' a fine, big man, an'
+got a big, gran' voice; 'nen you learn befo' long be a waituh, Genesis,
+an' git dolluh an' half ev'y even' you waitin ', 'sides all 'at money
+you make cuttin' grass daytime.' Well, suh, I'z stan' up doin' 'at
+'nouncin' ve'y nex' night. White lady an' ge'lmun walk todes my do', I
+step up to 'em--I step up to 'em thisaway.”
+
+Here Genesis found it pleasant to present the scene with some
+elaboration. He dropped the handle of the freezer, rose, assumed a
+stately, but ingratiating, expression, and “stepped up” to the imagined
+couple, using a pacing and rhythmic gait--a conservative prance, which
+plainly indicated the simultaneous operation of an orchestra. Then
+bending graciously, as though the persons addressed were of dwarfish
+stature, “'Scuse me,” he said, “but kin I please be so p'lite as to
+'quiah you' name?” For a moment he listened attentively, then nodded,
+and, returning with the same aristocratic undulations to an imaginary
+doorway near the freezer, “Misto an' Missuz Orlosko Rinktum!” he
+proclaimed, sonorously.
+
+“WHO?” cried Jane, fascinated. “Genesis, 'nounce that again, right
+away!”
+
+Genesis heartily complied.
+
+“Misto an' Missuz Orlosko Rinktum!” he bawled.
+
+“Was that really their names?” she asked, eagerly.
+
+“Well, I kine o' fergit,” Genesis admitted, resuming his work with the
+freezer. “Seem like I rickalect SOMEBODY got name good deal like what I
+say, 'cause some mighty blue-vein names at 'at dinnuh-potty, yessuh! But
+I on'y git to be 'nouncer one time, 'cause Fanny tellin' me nex' fam'ly
+have dinnuh-potty make heap o' fun. Say I done my 'nouncin' GOOD, but
+say what's use holler'n' names jes' fer some the neighbors or they own
+aunts an' uncles to walk in, when ev'ybody awready knows 'em? So Fanny
+pummote me to waituh, an' I roun' right in amongs' big doin's mos' ev'y
+night. Pass ice-cream, lemonade, lemon-ice, cake, samwitches. 'Lemme
+han' you li'l' mo' chicken salad, ma'am'--' 'Low me be so kine as to git
+you f'esh cup coffee, suh'--'S way ole Genesis talkin' ev'y even' 'ese
+days!”
+
+Jane looked at him thoughtfully. “Do you like it better than cuttin'
+grass, Genesis?” she asked.
+
+He paused to consider. “Yes'm--when ban' play all lem TUNES! My
+goo'ness, do soun' gran'!”
+
+“You can't do it to-night, though, Genesis,” said Jane. “You haf to be
+quiet on Sunday nights, don't you?”
+
+“Yes'm. 'Ain' got no mo' kaytun till nex' Friday even'.”
+
+“Oh, I bet that's the party for Miss Pratt at Mr. Parcher's!” Jane
+cried. “Didn't I guess right?”
+
+“Yes'm. I reckon I'm a-go'n' a see one you' fam'ly 'at night; see him
+dancin'--wait on him at ref'eshmuns.”
+
+Jane's expression became even more serious than usual. “Willie? I don't
+know whether he's goin', Genesis.”
+
+“Lan' name!” Genesis exclaimed. “He die ef he don' git INvite to 'at
+ball!”
+
+“Oh, he's invited,” said Jane. “Only I think maybe he won't go.”
+
+“My goo'ness! Why ain' he goin'?”
+
+Jane looked at her friend studiously before replying. “Well, it's a
+secret,” she said, finally, “but it's a very inter'sting one, an' I'll
+tell you if you never tell.”
+
+“Yes'm, I ain' tellin' nobody.”
+
+Jane glanced round, then stepped a little closer and told the secret
+with the solemnity it deserved. “Well, when Miss Pratt first came to
+visit Miss May Parcher, Willie used to keep papa's evening clo'es in
+his window-seat, an' mamma wondered what HAD become of 'em. Then, after
+dinner, he'd slip up there an' put 'em on him, an' go out through the
+kitchen an' call on Miss Pratt. Then mamma found 'em, an' she thought he
+oughtn't to do that, so she didn't tell him or anything, an' she didn't
+even tell papa, but she had the tailor make 'em ever an' ever so much
+bigger, 'cause they were gettin' too tight for papa. An' well, so after
+that, even if Willie could get 'em out o' mamma's clo'es-closet where
+she keeps 'em now, he'd look so funny in 'em he couldn't wear 'em. Well,
+an' then he couldn't go to pay calls on Miss Pratt in the evening since
+then, because mamma says after he started to go there in that suit he
+couldn't go without it, or maybe Miss Pratt or the other ones that's in
+love of her would think it was pretty queer, an' maybe kind of expeck it
+was papa's all the time. Mamma says she thinks Willie must have worried
+a good deal over reasons to say why he'd always go in the daytime after
+that, an' never came in the evening, an' now they're goin' to have this
+party, an' she says he's been gettin' paler and paler every day since
+he heard about it. Mamma says he's pale SOME because Miss Pratt's goin'
+away, but she thinks it's a good deal more because, well, if he would
+wear those evening clo'es just to go CALLIN', how would it be to go to
+that PARTY an' not have any! That's what mamma thinks--an', Genesis, you
+promised you'd never tell as long as you live!”
+
+“Yes'm. _I_ ain' tellin',” Genesis chuckled. “I'm a-go'n' agit me one
+nem waituh suits befo' long, myse'f, so's I kin quit wearin' 'at ole
+Henry Gimlet suit what b'long to Fanny, an' have me a privut suit o'
+my own. They's a secon'-han' sto' ovuh on the avynoo, where they got
+swallertail suits all way f'um sevum dolluhs to nineteem dolluhs an'
+ninety-eight cents. I'm a--”
+
+Jane started, interrupting him. “'SH!” she whispered, laying a finger
+warningly upon her lips.
+
+William had entered the yard at the back gate, and, approaching over the
+lawn, had arrived at the steps of the porch before Jane perceived
+him. She gave him an apprehensive look, but he passed into the house
+absent-mindedly, not even flinching at sight of Clematis--and Mrs.
+Baxter was right, William did look pale.
+
+“I guess he didn't hear us,” said Jane, when he had disappeared into the
+interior. “He acks awful funny!” she added, thoughtfully. “First when he
+was in love of Miss Pratt, he'd be mad about somep'm almost every minute
+he was home. Couldn't anybody say ANYthing to him but he'd just behave
+as if it was frightful, an' then if you'd see him out walkin' with Miss
+Pratt, well, he'd look like--like--” Jane paused; her eye fell upon
+Clematis and by a happy inspiration she was able to complete her simile
+with remarkable accuracy. “He'd look like the way Clematis looks at
+people! That's just EXACTLY the way he'd look, Genesis, when he was
+walkin' with Miss Pratt; an' then when he was home he got so quiet he
+couldn't answer questions an' wouldn't hear what anybody said to him
+at table or anywhere, an' papa 'd nearly almost bust. Mamma 'n' papa 'd
+talk an' talk about it, an'”--she lowered her voice--“an' I knew what
+they were talkin' about. Well, an' then he'd hardly ever get mad any
+more; he'd just sit in his room, an' sometimes he'd sit in there without
+any light, or he'd sit out in the yard all by himself all evening,
+maybe; an' th'other evening after I was in bed I heard 'em, an' papa
+said--well, this is what papa told mamma.” And again lowering her
+voice, she proffered the quotation from her father in atone somewhat
+awe-struck: “Papa said, by Gosh! if he ever 'a' thought a son of his
+could make such a Word idiot of himself he almost wished we'd both been
+girls!”
+
+Having completed this report in a violent whisper, Jane nodded
+repeatedly, for emphasis, and Genesis shook his head to show that he was
+as deeply impressed as she wished him to be. “I guess,” she added, after
+a pause “I guess Willie didn't hear anything you an' I talked about him,
+or clo'es, or anything.”
+
+She was mistaken in part. William had caught no reference to himself,
+but he had overheard something and he was now alone in his room,
+thinking about it almost feverishly. “A secon'-han' sto' ovuh on the
+avynoo, where they got swaller-tail suits all way f'um sevum dolluhs to
+nineteem dolluhs an' ninety-eight cents.”
+
+... Civilization is responsible for certain longings in the breast
+of man--artificial longings, but sometimes as poignant as hunger and
+thirst. Of these the strongest are those of the maid for the bridal
+veil, of the lad for long trousers, and of the youth for a tailed coat
+of state. To the gratification of this last, only a few of the early
+joys in life are comparable. Indulged youths, too rich, can know, to the
+unctuous full, neither the longing nor the gratification; but one such
+as William, in “moderate circumstances,” is privileged to pant for his
+first evening clothes as the hart panteth after the water-brook--and
+sometimes, to pant in vain. Also, this was a crisis in William's
+life: in addition to his yearning for such apparel, he was racked by a
+passionate urgency.
+
+As Jane had so precociously understood, unless he should somehow manage
+to obtain the proper draperies he could not go to the farewell dance
+for Miss Pratt. Other unequipped boys could go in their ordinary “best
+clothes,” but William could not; for, alack! he had dressed too well too
+soon!
+
+He was in desperate case.
+
+The sorrow of the approaching great departure was but the heavier
+because it had been so long deferred. To William it had seemed that this
+flower-strewn summer could actually end no more than he could actually
+die, but Time had begun its awful lecture, and even Seventeen was
+listening.
+
+Miss Pratt, that magic girl, was going home.
+
+
+
+
+XXIII
+
+FATHERS FORGET
+
+To the competent twenties, hundreds of miles suggesting no
+impossibilities, such departures may be rending, but not tragic.
+Implacable, the difference to Seventeen! Miss Pratt was going home, and
+Seventeen could not follow; it could only mourn upon the lonely shore,
+tracing little angelic footprints left in the sand.
+
+To Seventeen such a departure is final; it is a vanishing.
+
+And now it seemed possible that William might be deprived even of the
+last romantic consolations: of the “last waltz together,” of the last,
+last “listening to music in the moonlight together”; of all those sacred
+lasts of the “last evening together.”
+
+He had pleaded strongly for a “dress-suit” as a fitting recognition
+of his seventeenth birthday anniversary, but he had been denied by
+his father with a jocularity more crushing than rigor. Since then--in
+particular since the arrival of Miss Pratt--Mr. Baxter's temper had been
+growing steadily more and more even. That is, as affected by William's
+social activities, it was uniformly bad. Nevertheless, after heavy
+brooding, William decided to make one final appeal before he resorted to
+measures which the necessities of despair had caused him to contemplate.
+
+He wished to give himself every chance for a good effect; therefore, he
+did not act hastily, but went over what he intended to say, rehearsing
+it with a few appropriate gestures, and even taking some pleasure in the
+pathetic dignity of this performance, as revealed by occasional
+glances at the mirror of his dressing-table. In spite of these little
+alleviations, his trouble was great and all too real, for, unhappily,
+the previous rehearsal of an emotional scene does not prove the emotion
+insincere.
+
+Descending, he found his father and mother still sitting upon the front
+porch. Then, standing before them, solemn-eyed, he uttered a preluding
+cough, and began:
+
+“Father,” he said in a loud voice, “I have come to--”
+
+“Dear me!” Mrs. Baxter exclaimed, not perceiving that she was
+interrupting an intended oration. “Willie, you DO look pale! Sit down,
+poor child; you oughtn't to walk so much in this heat.”
+
+“Father,” William repeated. “Fath--”
+
+“I suppose you got her safely home from church,” Mr. Baxter said. “She
+might have been carried off by footpads if you three boys hadn't been
+along to take care of her!”
+
+But William persisted heroically. “Father--” he said. “Father, I have
+come to--”
+
+“What on earth's the matter with you?” Mr. Baxter ceased to fan himself;
+Mrs. Baxter stopped rocking, and both stared, for it had dawned upon
+them that something unusual was beginning to take place.
+
+William backed to the start and tried it again. “Father, I have come
+to--” He paused and gulped, evidently expecting to be interrupted,
+but both of his parents remained silent, regarding him with puzzled
+surprise. “Father,” he began once more, “I have come--I have come
+to--to place before you something I think it's your duty as my father
+to undertake, and I have thought over this step before laying it before
+you.”
+
+“My soul!” said Mr. Baxter, under his breath. “My soul!”
+
+“At my age,” William continued, swallowing, and fixing his earnest eyes
+upon the roof of the porch, to avoid the disconcerting stare of his
+father--“at my age there's some things that ought to be done and some
+things that ought not to be done. If you asked me what I thought OUGHT
+to be done, there is only one answer: When anybody as old as I am has
+to go out among other young men his own age that already got one, like
+anyway half of them HAVE, who I go with, and their fathers have already
+taken such a step, because they felt it was the only right thing to
+do, because at my age and the young men I go with's age, it IS the only
+right thing to do, because that is something nobody could deny, at my
+age--” Here William drew a long breath, and, deciding to abandon that
+sentence as irrevocably tangled, began another: “I have thought over
+this step, because there comes a time to every young man when they must
+lay a step before their father before something happens that they would
+be sorry for. I have thought this undertaking over, and I am certain it
+would be your honest duty--”
+
+“My soul!” gasped Mr. Baxter. “I thought I knew you pretty well, but you
+talk like a stranger to ME! What is all this? What you WANT?”
+
+“A dress-suit!” said William.
+
+He had intended to say a great deal more before coming to the point,
+but, although through nervousness he had lost some threads of his
+rehearsed plea, it seemed to him that he was getting along well and
+putting his case with some distinction and power. He was surprised and
+hurt, therefore, to hear his father utter a wordless shout in a tone of
+wondering derision.
+
+“I have more to say--” William began.
+
+But Mr. Baxter cut him off. “A dress-suit!” he cried. “Well, I'm glad
+you were talking about SOMETHING, because I honestly thought it must be
+too much sun!”
+
+At this, the troubled William brought his eyes down from the porch roof
+and forgot his rehearsal. He lifted his hand appealingly. “Father,” he
+said, “I GOT to have one!”
+
+“'Got to'!” Mr. Baxter laughed a laugh that chilled the supplicant
+through and through. “At your age I thought I was lucky if I had ANY
+suit that was fit to be seen in. You're too young, Willie. I don't want
+you to get your mind on such stuff, and if I have my way, you won't have
+a dress-suit for four years more, anyhow.”
+
+“Father, I GOT to have one. I got to have one right away!” The urgency
+in William's voice was almost tearful. “I don't ask you to have it made,
+or to go to expensive tailors, but there's plenty of good ready-made
+ones that only cost about forty dollars; they're advertised in the
+paper. Father, wouldn't you spend just forty dollars? I'll pay it back
+when I'm in business; I'll work--”
+
+Mr. Baxter waved all this aside. “It's not the money. It's the principle
+that I'm standing for, and I don't intend--”
+
+“Father, WON'T you do it?”
+
+“No, I will not!”
+
+William saw that sentence had been passed and all appeals for a new
+trial denied. He choked, and rushed into the house without more ado.
+
+“Poor boy!” his mother said.
+
+“Poor boy nothing!” fumed Mr. Baxter. “He's about lost his mind over
+that Miss Pratt. Think of his coming out here and starting a regular
+debating society declamation before his mother and father! Why, I never
+heard anything like it in my life! I don't like to hurt his feelings,
+and I'd give him anything I could afford that would do him any good,
+but all he wants it for now is to splurge around in at this party before
+that little yellow-haired girl! I guess he can wear the kind of clothes
+most of the other boys wear--the kind _I_ wore at parties--and never
+thought of wearing anything else. What's the world getting to be
+like? Seventeen years old and throws a fit because he can't have a
+dress-suit!”
+
+Mrs. Baxter looked thoughtful. “But--but suppose he felt he couldn't go
+to the dance unless he wore one, poor boy--”
+
+“All the better,” said Mr. Baxter, firmly. “Do him good to keep away and
+get his mind on something else.”
+
+“Of course,” she suggested, with some timidity, “forty dollars isn't a
+great deal of money, and a ready-made suit, just to begin with--”
+
+Naturally, Mr. Baxter perceived whither she was drifting. “Forty dollars
+isn't a thousand,” he interrupted, “but what you want to throw it away
+for? One reason a boy of seventeen oughtn't to have evening clothes
+is the way he behaves with ANY clothes. Forty dollars! Why, only this
+summer he sat down on Jane's open paint-box, twice in one week!”
+
+“Well--Miss Pratt IS going away, and the dance will be her last night.
+I'm afraid it would really hurt him to miss it. I remember once, before
+we were engaged--that evening before papa took me abroad, and you--”
+
+“It's no use, mamma,” he said. “We were both in the twenties--why, _I_
+was six years older than Willie, even then. There's no comparison at
+all. I'll let him order a dress-suit on his twenty-first birthday and
+not a minute before. I don't believe in it, and I intend to see that
+he gets all this stuff out of his system. He's got to learn some hard
+sense!”
+
+Mrs. Baxter shook her head doubtfully, but she said no more. Perhaps she
+regretted a little that she had caused Mr. Baxter's evening clothes to
+be so expansively enlarged--for she looked rather regretful. She also
+looked rather incomprehensible, not to say cryptic, during the long
+silence which followed, and Mr. Baxter resumed his rocking, unaware of
+the fixity of gaze which his wife maintained upon him--a thing the most
+loyal will do sometimes.
+
+The incomprehensible look disappeared before long; but the regretful
+one was renewed in the mother's eyes whenever she caught glimpses of her
+son, that day, and at the table, where William's manner was gentle--even
+toward his heartless father.
+
+Underneath that gentleness, the harried self of William was no longer
+debating a desperate resolve, but had fixed upon it, and on the
+following afternoon Jane chanced to be a witness of some resultant
+actions. She came to her mother with an account of them.
+
+“Mamma, what you s'pose Willie wants of those two ole market-baskets
+that were down cellar?”
+
+“Why, Jane?”
+
+“Well, he carried 'em in his room, an' then he saw me lookin'; an' he
+said, 'G'way from here!' an' shut the door. He looks so funny! What's he
+want of those ole baskets, mamma?”
+
+“I don't know. Perhaps he doesn't even know, himself, Jane.”
+
+But William did know, definitely. He had set the baskets upon chairs,
+and now, with pale determination, he was proceeding to fill them. When
+his task was completed the two baskets contained:
+
+One “heavy-weight winter suit of clothes.”
+
+One “light-weight summer suit of clothes.”
+
+One cap.
+
+One straw hat.
+
+Two pairs of white flannel trousers.
+
+Two Madras shirts.
+
+Two flannel shirts.
+
+Two silk shirts.
+
+Seven soft collars.
+
+Three silk neckties.
+
+One crocheted tie.
+
+Eight pairs of socks.
+
+One pair of patent-leather shoes.
+
+One pair of tennis-shoes.
+
+One overcoat.
+
+Some underwear.
+
+One two-foot shelf of books, consisting of several sterling works
+upon mathematics, in a damaged condition; five of Shakespeare's plays,
+expurgated for schools and colleges, and also damaged; a work upon
+political economy, and another upon the science of physics; Webster's
+Collegiate Dictionary; How to Enter a Drawing-Room and Five Hundred
+Other Hints; Witty Sayings from Here and There; Lorna Doone; Quentin
+Durward; The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, a very old copy of Moths,
+and a small Bible.
+
+William spread handkerchiefs upon the two over-bulging cargoes, that
+their nature might not be disclosed to the curious, and, after listening
+a moment at his door, took the baskets, one upon each arm, then went
+quickly down the stairs and out of the house, out of the yard, and into
+the alley--by which route he had modestly chosen to travel.
+
+... After an absence of about two hours he returned empty-handed
+and anxious. “Mother, I want to speak to you,” he said, addressing Mrs
+Baxter in a voice which clearly proved the strain of these racking days.
+“I want to speak to you about something important.”
+
+“Yes, Willie?”
+
+“Please send Jane away. I can't talk about important things with a child
+in the room.”
+
+Jane naturally wished to stay, since he was going to say something
+important. “Mamma, do I HAF to go?”
+
+“Just a few minutes, dear.”
+
+Jane walked submissively out of the door, leaving it open behind her.
+Then, having gone about six feet farther, she halted and, preserving a
+breathless silence, consoled herself for her banishment by listening to
+what was said, hearing it all as satisfactorily as if she had remained
+in the room. Quiet, thoughtful children, like Jane, avail themselves of
+these little pleasures oftener than is suspected.
+
+“Mother,” said William, with great intensity, “I want to ask you please
+to lend me three dollars and sixty cents.”
+
+“What for, Willie?”
+
+“Mother, I just ask you to lend me three dollars and sixty cents.”
+
+“But what FOR?”
+
+“Mother, I don't feel I can discuss it any; I simply ask you: Will you
+lend me three dollars and sixty cents?”
+
+Mrs. Baxter laughed gently. “I don't think I could, Willie, but
+certainly I should want to know what for.”
+
+“Mother, I am going on eighteen years of age, and when I ask for a
+small sum of money like three dollars and sixty cents I think I might be
+trusted to know how to use it for my own good without having to answer
+questions like a ch--”
+
+“Why, Willie,” she exclaimed, “you ought to have plenty of money of your
+own!”
+
+“Of course I ought,” he agreed, warmly. “If you'd ask father to give me
+a regular allow--”
+
+“No, no; I mean you ought to have plenty left out of that old junk and
+furniture I let you sell last month. You had over nine dollars!'
+
+“That was five weeks ago,” William explained, wearily.
+
+“But you certainly must have some of it left. Why, it was MORE than nine
+dollars, I believe! I think it was nearer ten. Surely you haven't--”
+
+“Ye gods!” cried the goaded William. “A person going on eighteen
+years old ought to be able to spend nine dollars in five weeks without
+everybody's acting like it was a crime! Mother, I ask you the simple
+question: Will you PLEASE lend me three dollars and sixty cents?”
+
+“I don't think I ought to, dear. I'm sure your father wouldn't wish
+me to, unless you'll tell me what you want it for. In fact, I won't
+consider it at all unless you do tell me.”
+
+“You won't do it?” he quavered.
+
+She shook her head gently. “You see, dear, I'm afraid the reason you
+don't tell me is because you know that I wouldn't give it to you if I
+knew what you wanted it for.”
+
+This perfect diagnosis of the case so disheartened him that after a few
+monosyllabic efforts to continue the conversation with dignity he gave
+it up, and left in such a preoccupation with despondency that he passed
+the surprised Jane in the hall without suspecting what she had been
+doing.
+
+That evening, after dinner, he addressed to his father an impassioned
+appeal for three dollars and sixty cents, laying such stress of pathos
+on his principal argument that if he couldn't have a dress-suit, at
+least he ought to be given three dollars and sixty CENTS (the emphasis
+is William's) that Mr. Baxter was moved in the direction of consent--but
+not far enough. “I'd like to let you have it, Willie,” he said, excusing
+himself for refusal, “but your mother felt SHE oughtn't to do it unless
+you'd say what you wanted it for, and I'm sure she wouldn't like me to
+do it. I can't let you have it unless you get her to say she wants me
+to.”
+
+Thus advised, the unfortunate made another appeal to his mother the next
+day, and, having brought about no relaxation of the situation, again
+petitioned his father, on the following evening. So it went; the torn
+and driven William turning from parent to parent; and surely, since the
+world began, the special sum of three dollars and sixty cents has never
+been so often mentioned in any one house and in the same space of time
+as it was in the house of the Baxters during Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday,
+and Thursday of that oppressive week.
+
+But on Friday William disappeared after breakfast and did not return to
+lunch.
+
+
+
+
+XXIV
+
+CLOTHES MAKE THE MAN
+
+Mrs. Baxter was troubled. During the afternoon she glanced often from
+the open window of the room where she had gone to sew, but the peaceful
+neighborhood continued to be peaceful, and no sound of the harassed
+footsteps of William echoed from the pavement. However, she saw Genesis
+arrive (in his weekday costume) to do some weeding, and Jane immediately
+skip forth for mingled purposes of observation and conversation.
+
+“What DO they say?” thought Mrs. Baxter, observing that both Jane and
+Genesis were unusually animated. But for once that perplexity was to be
+dispersed. After an exciting half-hour Jane came flying to her mother,
+breathless.
+
+“Mamma,” she cried, “I know where Willie is! Genesis told me, 'cause he
+saw him, an' he talked to him while he was doin' it.”
+
+“Doing what? Where?”
+
+“Mamma, listen! What you think Willie's doin'? I bet you can't g--”
+
+“Jane!” Mrs Baxter spoke sharply. “Tell me what Genesis said, at once.”
+
+“Yes'm. Willie's sittin' in a lumber-yard that Genesis comes by on his
+way from over on the avynoo where all the colored people live--an' he's
+countin' knot-holes in shingles.”
+
+“He is WHAT?”
+
+“Yes'm. Genesis knows all about it, because he was thinkin' of doin'
+it himself, only he says it would be too slow. This is the way it is,
+mamma. Listen, mamma, because this is just exackly the way it is. Well,
+this lumber-yard man got into some sort of a fuss because he bought
+millions an' millions of shingles, mamma, that had too many knots in,
+an' the man don't want to pay for 'em, or else the store where he bought
+'em won't take 'em back, an' they got to prove how many shingles are
+bad shingles, or somep'm, an' anyway, mamma, that's what Willie's doin'.
+Every time he comes to a bad shingle, mamma, he puts it somewheres else,
+or somep'm like that, mamma, an' every time he's put a thousand bad
+shingles in this other place they give him six cents. He gets the six
+cents to keep, mamma--an' that's what he's been doin' all day!”
+
+“Good gracious!”
+
+“Oh, but that's nothing, mamma--just you wait till you hear the rest.
+THAT part of it isn't anything a TALL, mamma! You wouldn't hardly notice
+that part of it if you knew the other part of it, mamma. Why, that
+isn't ANYTHING!” Jane made demonstrations of scorn for the insignificant
+information already imparted.
+
+“Jane!”
+
+“Yes'm?”
+
+“I want to know everything Genesis told you,” said her mother, “and I
+want you to tell it as quickly as you can.”
+
+“Well, I AM tellin' it, mamma!” Jane protested. “I'm just BEGINNING to
+tell it. I can't tell it unless there's a beginning, can I? How could
+there be ANYTHING unless you had to begin it, mamma?”
+
+“Try your best to go on, Jane!”
+
+“Yes'm. Well, Genesis says--Mamma!” Jane interrupted herself with a
+little outcry. “Oh! I bet THAT'S what he had those two market-baskets
+for! Yes, sir! That's just what he did! An' then he needed the rest
+o' the money an' you an' papa wouldn't give him any, an' so he began
+countin' shingles to-day 'cause to-night's the night of the party an' he
+just HASS to have it!”
+
+Mrs. Baxter, who had risen to her feet, recalled the episode of the
+baskets and sank into a chair. “How did Genesis know Willie wanted forty
+dollars, and if Willie's pawned something how did Genesis know THAT? Did
+Willie tell Gen--”
+
+“Oh no, mamma, Willie didn't want forty dollars--only fourteen!”
+
+“But he couldn't get even the cheapest readymade dress-suit for fourteen
+dollars.”
+
+“Mamma, you're gettin' it all mixed up!” Jane cried. “Listen, mamma!
+Genesis knows all about a second-hand store over on the avynoo; an' it
+keeps 'most everything, an' Genesis says it's the nicest store! It keeps
+waiter suits all the way up to nineteen dollars and ninety-nine cents.
+Well, an' Genesis wants to get one of those suits, so he goes in there
+all the time, an' talks to the man an' bargains an' bargains with him,
+'cause Genesis says this man is the bargainest man in the wide worl',
+mamma! That's what Genesis says. Well, an' so this man's name is One-eye
+Beljus, mamma. That's his name, an' Genesis says so. Well, an' so this
+man that Genesis told me about, that keeps the store--I mean One-eye
+Beljus, mamma--well, One-eye Beljus had Willie's name written down in a
+book, an' he knew Genesis worked for fam'lies that have boys like Willie
+in 'em, an' this morning One-eye Beljus showed Genesis Willie's name
+written down in this book, an' One-eye Beljus asked Genesis if he knew
+anybody by that name an' all about him. Well, an' so at first Genesis
+pretended he was tryin' to remember, because he wanted to find out what
+Willie went there for. Genesis didn't tell any stories, mamma; he
+just pretended he couldn't remember, an' so, well, One-eye Beljus kept
+talkin' an' pretty soon Genesis found out all about it. One-eye Beljus
+said Willie came in there an' tried on the coat of one of those waiter
+suits--”
+
+“Oh no!” gasped Mrs. Baxter.
+
+“Yes'm, an' One-eye Beljus said it was the only one that would fit
+Willie, an' One-eye Beljus told Willie that suit was worth fourteen
+dollars, an' Willie said he didn't have any money, but he'd like to
+trade something else for it. Well, an' so One-eye Beljus said this was
+an awful fine suit an' the only one he had that had b'longed to a white
+gentleman. Well, an' so they bargained, an' bargained, an' bargained,
+an' BARGAINED! An' then, well, an' so at last Willie said he'd go an'
+get everything that b'longed to him, an' One-eye Beljus could pick out
+enough to make fourteen dollars' worth, an' then Willie could have
+the suit. Well, an' so Willie came home an' put everything he had that
+b'longed to him into those two baskets, mamma--that's just what he
+did, 'cause Genesis says he told One-eye Beljus it was everything that
+b'longed to him, an' that would take two baskets, mamma. Well, then,
+an' so he told One-eye Beljus to pick out fourteen dollars' worth, an'
+One-eye Beljus ast Willie if he didn't have a watch. Well, Willie took
+out his watch an' One-eye Beljus said it was an awful bad watch, but he
+would put it in for a dollar; an' he said, 'I'll put your necktie pin
+in for forty cents more,' so Willie took it out of his necktie an' then
+One-eye Beljus said it would take all the things in the baskets to make
+I forget how much, mamma, an' the watch would be a dollar more, an' the
+pin forty cents, an' that would leave just three dollars an' sixty cents
+more for Willie to pay before he could get the suit.”
+
+Mrs. Baxter's face had become suffused with high color, but she wished
+to know all that Genesis had said, and, mastering her feelings with an
+effort, she told Jane to proceed--a command obeyed after Jane had taken
+several long breaths.
+
+“Well, an' so the worst part of it is, Genesis says, it's because that
+suit is haunted.”
+
+“What!”
+
+“Yes'm,” said Jane, solemnly; “Genesis says it's haunted. Genesis says
+everybody over on the avynoo knows all about that suit, an' he says
+that's why One-eye Beljus never could sell it before. Genesis says
+One-eye Beljus tried to sell it to a colored man for three dollars,
+but the man said he wouldn't put in on for three hunderd dollars, an'
+Genesis says HE wouldn't, either, because it belonged to a Dago waiter
+that--that--” Jane's voice sank to a whisper of unctuous horror. She was
+having a wonderful time! “Mamma, this Dago waiter, he lived over on the
+avynoo, an' he took a case-knife he'd sharpened--AN' HE CUT A LADY'S
+HEAD OFF WITH IT!”
+
+Mrs. Baxter screamed faintly.
+
+“An' he got hung, mamma! If you don't believe it, you can ask One-eye
+Beljus--I guess HE knows! An' you can ask--”
+
+“Hush!”
+
+“An' he sold this suit to One-eye Beljus when he was in jail, mamma. He
+sold it to him before he got hung, mamma.”
+
+“Hush, Jane!”
+
+But Jane couldn't hush now. “An' he had that suit on when he cut the
+lady's head off, mamma, an' that's why it's haunted. They cleaned it all
+up excep' a few little spots of bl--”
+
+“JANE!” shouted her mother. “You must not talk about such things, and
+Genesis mustn't tell, you stories of that sort!”
+
+“Well, how could he help it, if he told me about Willie?” Jane urged,
+reasonably.
+
+“Never mind! Did that crazy ch--Did Willie LEAVE the baskets in that
+dreadful place?”
+
+“Yes'm--an' his watch an' pin,” Jane informed her, impressively. “An'
+One-eye Beljus wanted to know if Genesis knew Willie, because One-eye
+Beljus wanted to know if Genesis thought Willie could get the three
+dollars an; sixty cents, an' One-eye Beljus wanted to know if Genesis
+thought he could get anything more out of him besides that. He told
+Genesis he hadn't told Willie he COULD have the suit, after all; he just
+told him he THOUGHT he could, but he wouldn't say for certain till he
+brought him the three dollars an' sixty cents. So Willie left all his
+things there, an' his watch an--”
+
+“That will do!” Mrs. Baxter's voice was sharper than it had ever been in
+Jane's recollection. “I don't need to hear any more--and I don't WANT to
+hear any more!”
+
+Jane was justly aggrieved. “But, mamma, it isn't MY fault!”
+
+Mrs. Baxter's lips parted to speak, but she checked herself. “Fault?”
+ she said, gravely. “I wonder whose fault it really is!”
+
+And with that she went hurriedly into William's room and made a brief
+inspection of his clothes-closet and dressing-table. Then, as Jane
+watched her in awed silence, she strode to the window, and called,
+loudly:
+
+“Genesis!”
+
+“Yes'm?” came the voice from below.
+
+“Go to that lumber-yard where Mr. William is at work and bring him
+here to me at once. If he declines to come, tell him--” Her voice broke
+oddly; she choked, but Jane could not decide with what emotion. “Tell
+him--tell him I ordered you to use force if necessary! Hurry!”
+
+“YES'M!”
+
+Jane ran to the window in time to see Genesis departing seriously
+through the back gate.
+
+“Mamma--”
+
+“Don't talk to me now, Jane,” Mrs. Baxter said, crisply. “I want you to
+go down in the yard, and when Willie comes tell him I'm waiting for him
+here in his own room. And don't come with him, Jane. Run!”
+
+“Yes, mamma.” Jane was pleased with this appointment; she anxiously
+desired to be the first to see how Willie “looked.”
+
+... He looked flurried and flustered and breathless, and there were
+blisters upon the reddened palms of his hands. “What on earth's the
+matter, mother?” he asked, as he stood panting before her. “Genesis said
+something was wrong, and he said you told him to hit me if I wouldn't
+come.”
+
+“Oh NO!” she cried. “I only meant I thought perhaps you wouldn't obey
+any ordinary message--”
+
+“Well, well, it doesn't matter, but please hurry and say what you want
+to, because I got to get back and--”
+
+“No,” Mrs. Baxter said, quietly, “you're not going back to count any
+more shingles, Willie. How much have you earned?”
+
+He swallowed, but spoke bravely. “Thirty-six cents. But I've been
+getting lots faster the last two hours and there's a good deal of time
+before six o'clock. Mother--”
+
+“No,” she said. “You're going over to that horrible place where you've
+left your clothes and your watch and all those other things in the two
+baskets, and you're going to bring them home at once.”
+
+“Mother!” he cried, aghast. “Who told you?”
+
+“It doesn't matter. You don't want your father to find out, do you? Then
+get those things back here as quickly as you can. They'll have to be
+fumigated after being in that den.”
+
+“They've never been out of the baskets,” he protested, hotly, “except
+just to be looked at. They're MY things, mother, and I had a right to
+do what I needed to with 'em, didn't I?” His utterance became difficult.
+“You and father just CAN'T understand--and you won't do anything to help
+me--”
+
+“Willie, you can go to the party,” she said, gently. “You didn't need
+those frightful clothes at all.”
+
+“I do!” he cried. “I GOT to have 'em! I CAN'T go in my day clo'es!
+There's a reason you wouldn't understand why I can't. I just CAN'T!”
+
+“Yes,” she said, “you can go to the party.”
+
+“I can't, either! Not unless you give me three dollars and twenty-four
+cents, or unless I can get back to the lumber-yard and earn the rest
+before--”
+
+“No!” And the warm color that had rushed over Mrs. Baxter during Jane's
+sensational recital returned with a vengeance. Her eyes flashed. “If
+you'd rather I sent a policeman for those baskets, I'll send one. I
+should prefer to do it--much! And to have that rascal arrested. If you
+don't want me to send a policeman you can go for them yourself, but
+you must start within ten minutes, because if you don't I'll telephone
+headquarters. Ten minutes, Willie, and I mean it!”
+
+He cried out, protesting. She would make him a thing of scorn forever
+and soil his honor, if she sent a policeman. Mr. Beljus was a fair
+and honest tradesman, he explained, passionately, and had not made the
+approaches in this matter. Also, the garments in question, though not
+entirely new, nor of the highest mode, were of good material and in
+splendid condition. Unmistakably they were evening clothes, and such a
+bargain at fourteen dollars that William would guarantee to sell them
+for twenty after he had worn them this one evening. Mr. Beljus himself
+had said that he would not even think of letting them go at fourteen
+to anybody else, and as for the two poor baskets of worn and useless
+articles offered in exchange, and a bent scarfpin and a worn-out old
+silver watch that had belonged to great-uncle Ben--why, the ten dollars
+and forty cents allowed upon them was beyond all ordinary liberality;
+it was almost charity. There was only one place in town where evening
+clothes were rented, and the suspicious persons in charge had insisted
+that William obtain from his father a guarantee to insure the return of
+the garments in perfect condition. So that was hopeless. And wasn't it
+better, also, to wear clothes which had known only one previous occupant
+(as was the case with Mr. Beljus's offering) than to hire what chance
+hundreds had hired? Finally, there was only one thing to be considered
+and this was the fact that William HAD to have those clothes!
+
+“Six minutes,” said Mrs. Baxter, glancing implacably at her watch. “When
+it's ten I'll telephone.”
+
+And the end of it was, of course, victory for the woman--victory both
+moral and physical. Three-quarters of an hour later she was unburdening
+the contents of the two baskets and putting the things back in place,
+illuminating these actions with an expression of strong distaste--in
+spite of broken assurances that Mr. Beljus had not more than touched any
+of the articles offered to him for valuation.
+
+... At dinner, which was unusually early that evening, Mrs. Baxter did
+not often glance toward her son; she kept her eyes from that white face
+and spent most of her time in urging upon Mr. Baxter that he should
+be prompt in dressing for a card-club meeting which he and she were
+to attend that evening. These admonitions of hers were continued so
+pressingly that Mr. Baxter, after protesting that there was no use in
+being a whole hour too early, groaningly went to dress without even
+reading his paper.
+
+William had retired to his own room, where he lay upon his bed in the
+darkness. He heard the evening noises of the house faintly through the
+closed door: voices and the clatter of metal and china from the far-away
+kitchen, Jane's laugh in the hall, the opening and closing of the doors.
+Then his father seemed to be in distress about something. William heard
+him complaining to Mrs. Baxter, and though the words were indistinct,
+the tone was vigorously plaintive. Mrs. Baxter laughed and appeared
+to make light of his troubles, whatever they were--and presently
+their footsteps were audible from the stairway; the front door closed
+emphatically, and they were gone.
+
+Everything was quiet now. The open window showed as a greenish oblong
+set in black, and William knew that in a little while there would come
+through the stillness of that window the distant sound of violins. That
+was a moment he dreaded with a dread that ached. And as he lay on his
+dreary bed he thought of brightly lighted rooms where other boys were
+dressing eagerly faces and hair shining, hearts beating high--boys who
+would possess this last evening and the “last waltz together,” the last
+smile and the last sigh.
+
+It did not once enter his mind that he could go to the dance in his
+“best suit,” or that possibly the other young people at the party would
+be too busy with their own affairs to notice particularly what he wore.
+It was the unquestionable and granite fact, to his mind, that the whole
+derisive World would know the truth about his earlier appearances in his
+father's clothes. And that was a form of ruin not to be faced. In the
+protective darkness and seclusion of William's bedroom, it is possible
+that smarting eyes relieved themselves by blinking rather energetically;
+it is even possible that there was a minute damp spot upon the pillow.
+Seventeen cannot always manage the little boy yet alive under all the
+coverings.
+
+Now arrived that moment he had most painfully anticipated, and
+dance-music drifted on the night;--but there came a tapping upon his
+door and a soft voice spoke.
+
+“Will-ee?”
+
+With a sharp exclamation William swung his legs over the edge of the
+bed and sat up. Of all things he desired not, he desired no conversation
+with, or on the part of, Jane. But he had forgotten to lock his
+door--the handle turned, and a dim little figure marched in.
+
+“Willie, Adelia's goin' to put me to bed.”
+
+“You g'way from here,” he said, huskily. “I haven't got time to talk to
+you. I'm busy.”
+
+“Well, you can wait a minute, can't you?” she asked, reasonably. “I haf
+to tell you a joke on mamma.”
+
+“I don't want to hear any jokes!”
+
+“Well, I HAF to tell you this one 'cause she told me to! Oh!” Jane
+clapped her hand over her mouth and jumped up and down, offering a
+fantastic silhouette against the light of the Open door. “Oh, oh, OH!”
+
+“What's matter?”
+
+“She said I mustn't, MUSTN'T tell that she told me to tell! My goodness!
+I forgot that! Mamma took me off alone right after dinner, an' she told
+me to tell you this joke on her a little after she an' papa had left
+the house, but she said, 'Above all THINGS,' she said, 'DON'T let Willie
+know _I_ said to tell him.' That's just what she said, an' here that's
+the very first thing I had to go an' do!”
+
+“Well, what of it?”
+
+Jane quieted down. The pangs of her remorse were lost in her love of
+sensationalism, and her voice sank to the thrilling whisper which it was
+one of her greatest pleasures to use. “Did you hear what a fuss papa was
+makin' when he was dressin' for the card-party?”
+
+“_I_ don't care if--”
+
+“He had to go in his reg'lar clo'es!” whispered Jane, triumphantly.
+“An' this is the joke on mamma: you know that tailor that let papa's
+dress-suit 'way, 'way out; well, Mamma thinks that tailor must think
+she's crazy, or somep'm 'cause she took papa's dress-suit to him last
+Monday to get it pressed for this card-party, an she guesses he must of
+understood her to tell him to do lots besides just pressin' it. Anyway,
+he went an' altered it, an' he took it 'way, 'way IN again; an' this
+afternoon when it came back it was even tighter 'n what it was in the
+first place, an' papa couldn't BEGIN to get into it! Well, an' so it's
+all pressed an' ev'ything, an' she stopped on the way out, an' whispered
+to me that she'd got so upset over the joke on her that she couldn't
+remember where she put it when she took it out o' papa's room after he
+gave up tryin' to get inside of it. An' that,” cried Jane--“that's
+the funniest thing of all! Why, it's layin' right on her bed this very
+minute!”
+
+In one bound William leaped through the open door. Two seconds sufficed
+for his passage through the hall to his mother's bedroom--and there,
+neatly spread upon the lace coverlet and brighter than coronation robes,
+fairer than Joseph's holy coat, It lay!
+
+
+
+
+XXV
+
+YOUTH AND MR. PARCHER
+
+As a hurried worldling, in almost perfectly fitting evening clothes,
+passed out of his father's gateway and hurried toward the place whence
+faintly came the sound of dance-music, a child's voice called sweetly
+from an unidentified window of the darkened house behind him:
+
+“Well, ANYWAY, you try and have a good time, Willie!”
+
+William made no reply; he paused not in his stride. Jane's farewell
+injunction, though obviously not ill-intended, seemed in poor taste, and
+a reply might have encouraged her to believe that, in some measure at
+least, he condescended to discuss his inner life with her. He departed
+rapidly, but with hauteur. The moon was up, but shade-trees were thick
+along the sidewalk, and the hauteur was invisible to any human eye;
+nevertheless, William considered it necessary.
+
+Jane's friendly but ill-chosen “ANYWAY” had touched doubts already
+annoying him. He was certain to be late to the party--so late, indeed,
+that it might prove difficult to obtain a proper number of dances with
+the sacred girl in whose honor the celebration was being held. Too
+many were steeped in a sense of her sacredness, well he wot! and he was
+unable to find room in his apprehensive mind for any doubt that these
+others would be accursedly diligent.
+
+But as he hastened onward his spirits rose, and he did reply to Jane,
+after all, though he had placed a hundred yards between them.
+
+“Yes, and you can bet your bottom dollar I will, too!” he muttered,
+between his determined teeth.
+
+The very utterance of the words increased the firmness of his decision,
+and at the same time cheered him. His apprehensions fell away, and a
+glamorous excitement took their place, as he turned a corner and the
+music burst more loudly upon his tingling ear. For there, not half-way
+to the next street, the fairy scene lay spread before him.
+
+Spellbound groups of uninvited persons, most of them colored, rested
+their forearms upon the upper rail of the Parchers' picket fence,
+offering to William's view a silhouette like that of a crowd at a fire.
+Beyond the fence, bright forms went skimming, shimmering, wavering over
+a white platform, while high overhead the young moon sprayed a thinner
+light down through the maple leaves, to where processions of rosy globes
+hung floating in the blue night. The mild breeze trembled to the silver
+patterings of a harp, to the sweet, barbaric chirping of plucked strings
+of violin and 'cello--and swooned among the maple leaves to the rhythmic
+crooning of a flute. And, all the while, from the platform came the
+sounds of little cries in girlish voices, and the cadenced shuffling
+of young feet, where the witching dancemusic had its way, as ever and
+forever, with big and little slippers.
+
+The heart of William had behaved tumultuously the summer long, whenever
+his eyes beheld those pickets of the Parchers' fence, but now it outdid
+all its previous riotings. He was forced to open his mouth and gasp
+for breath, so deep was his draught of that young wine, romance.
+Yonder--somewhere in the breath-taking radiance--danced his Queen with
+all her Court about her. Queen and Court, thought William, and nothing
+less exorbitant could have expressed his feeling. For seventeen needs
+only some paper lanterns, a fiddle, and a pretty girl--and Versailles is
+all there!
+
+The moment was so rich that William crossed the street with a slower
+step. His mood changed: an exaltation had come upon him, though he was
+never for an instant unaware of the tragedy beneath all this worldly
+show and glamor. It was the last night of the divine visit; to-morrow
+the town would lie desolate, a hollow shell in the dust, without her.
+Miss Pratt would be gone--gone utterly--gone away on the TRAIN! But
+to-night was just beginning, and to-night he would dance with her; he
+would dance and dance with her--he would dance and dance like mad! He
+and she, poetic and fated pair, would dance on and on! They would be
+intoxicated by the lights--the lights, the flowers, and the music. Nay,
+the flowers might droop, the lights might go out, the music cease and
+dawn come--she and he would dance recklessly on--on--on!
+
+A sense of picturesqueness--his own picturesqueness--made him walk
+rather theatrically as he passed through the groups of humble onlookers
+outside the picket fence. Many of these turned to stare at the belated
+guest, and William was unconscious of neither their low estate nor his
+own quality as a patrician man-about-town in almost perfectly fitting
+evening dress. A faint, cold smile was allowed to appear upon his lips,
+and a fragment from a story he had read came momentarily to his mind....
+“Through the gaping crowds the young Augustan noble was borne down
+from the Palatine, scornful in his jeweled litter....”
+
+An admiring murmur reached William's ear.
+
+“OH, oh, honey! Look attem long-tail suit! 'At's a rich boy, honey!”
+
+“Yessum, SO! Bet he got his pockets pack' full o' twenty-dolluh gol'
+pieces right iss minute!”
+
+“You right, honey!”
+
+William allowed the coldness of his faint smile to increase to become
+scornful. These poor sidewalk creatures little knew what seethed inside
+the alabaster of the young Augustan noble! What was it to THEM that this
+was Miss Pratt's last night and that he intended to dance and dance with
+her, on and on?
+
+Almost sternly he left these squalid lives behind him and passed to the
+festal gateway.
+
+Upon one of the posts of that gateway there rested the elbow of a
+contemplative man, middleaged or a little worse. Of all persons having
+pleasure or business within the bright inclosure, he was, that evening,
+the least important; being merely the background parent who paid the
+bills. However, even this unconsidered elder shared a thought in common
+with the Augustan now approaching: Mr. Parcher had just been thinking
+that there was true romance in the scene before him.
+
+But what Mr. Parcher contemplated as romance arose from the fact that
+these young people were dancing on a spot where their great-grandfathers
+had scalped Indians. Music was made for them by descendants, it might
+well be, of Romulus, of Messalina, of Benvenuto Cellini, and, around
+behind the house, waiting to serve the dancers with light food
+and drink, lounged and gossiped grandchildren of the Congo, only
+a generation or so removed from dances for which a chance stranger
+furnished both the occasion and the refreshments. Such, in brief, was
+Mr. Parcher's peculiar view of what constituted the romantic element.
+
+And upon another subject preoccupying both Mr. Parcher and William,
+their two views, though again founded upon one thought, had no real
+congeniality. The preoccupying subject was the imminence of Miss Pratt's
+departure;--neither Mr. Parcher nor William forgot it for an instant. No
+matter what else played upon the surface of their attention, each kept
+saying to himself, underneath: “This is the last night--the last night!
+Miss Pratt is going away--going away to-morrow!”
+
+Mr. Parcher's expression was peaceful. It was more peaceful than it had
+been for a long time. In fact, he wore the look of a man who had been
+through the mill but now contemplated a restful and health-restoring
+vacation. For there are people in this world who have no respect for the
+memory of Ponce de Leon, and Mr. Parcher had come to be of their number.
+The elimination of William from his evenings had lightened the burden;
+nevertheless, Mr. Parcher would have stated freely and openly to any
+responsible party that a yearning for the renewal of his youth had not
+been intensified by his daughter's having as a visitor, all summer long,
+a howling belle of eighteen who talked baby-talk even at breakfast and
+spread her suitors all over the small house--and its one veranda--from
+eight in the morning until hours of the night long after their mothers
+(in Mr. Parcher's opinion) should have sent their fathers to march them
+home. Upon Mr. Parcher's optimism the effect of so much unavoidable
+observation of young love had been fatal; he declared repeatedly that
+his faith in the human race was about gone. Furthermore, his physical
+constitution had proved pathetically vulnerable to nightly quartets,
+quintets, and even octets, on the porch below his bedchamber window, so
+that he was wont to tell his wife that never, never could he expect to
+be again the man he had been in the spring before Miss Pratt came to
+visit May. And, referring to conversations which he almost continuously
+overheard, perforce, Mr. Parcher said that if this was the way HE talked
+at that age, he would far prefer to drown in an ordinary fountain, and
+be dead and done with it, than to bathe in Ponce de Leon's.
+
+Altogether, the summer had been a severe one; he doubted that he could
+have survived much more of it. And now that it was virtually over,
+at last, he was so resigned to the departure of his daughter's lovely
+little friend that he felt no regret for the splurge with which her
+visit was closing. Nay, to speed the parting guest--such was his lavish
+mood--twice and thrice over would he have paid for the lights, the
+flowers, the music, the sandwiches, the coffee, the chicken salad, the
+cake, the lemonade-punch, and the ice-cream.
+
+Thus did the one thought divide itself between William and Mr. Parcher,
+keeping itself deep and pure under all their other thoughts. “Miss Pratt
+is going away!” thought William and Mr. Parcher. “Miss PRATT is going
+away--to-morrow!”
+
+The unuttered words advanced tragically toward the gate in the head of
+William at the same time that they moved contentedly away in the head
+of Mr. Parcher; for Mr. Parcher caught sight of his wife just then, and
+went to join her as she sank wearily upon the front steps.
+
+“Taking a rest for a minute?” he inquired. “By George! we're both
+entitled to a good LONG rest, after to-night! If we could afford it,
+we'd go away to a quiet little sanitarium in the hills, somewhere,
+and--” He ceased to speak and there was the renewal of an old bitterness
+in his expression as his staring eyes followed the movements of a
+stately young form entering the gateway. “Look at it!” said Mr. Parcher
+in a whisper. “Just look at it!”
+
+“Look at what?” asked his wife.
+
+“That Baxter boy!” said Mr. Parcher, as William passed on toward the
+dancers. “What's he think he's imitating--Henry Irving? Look at his
+walk!”
+
+“He walks that way a good deal, lately, I've noticed,” said Mrs. Parcher
+in a tired voice. “So do Joe Bullitt and--”
+
+“He didn't even come to say good evening to you,” Mr. Parcher
+interrupted. “Talk about MANNERS, nowadays! These young--”
+
+“He didn't see us.”
+
+“Well, we're used to that,” said Mr. Parcher. “None of 'em see us.
+They've worn holes in all the cane-seated chairs, they've scuffed up the
+whole house, and I haven't been able to sit down anywhere down-stairs
+for three months without sitting on some dam boy; but they don't even
+know we're alive! Well, thank the Lord, it's over--after to-night!” His
+voice became reflective. “That Baxter boy was the worst, until he took
+to coming in the daytime when I was down-town. I COULDN'T have stood it
+if he'd kept on coming in the evening. If I'd had to listen to any more
+of his talking or singing, either the embalmer or the lunatic-asylum
+would have had me, sure! I see he's got hold of his daddy's dress-suit
+again for to-night.”
+
+“Is it Mr. Baxter's dress-suit?” Mrs. Parcher inquired. “How do you
+know?”
+
+Mr. Parcher smiled. “How I happen to know is a secret,” he said. “I
+forgot about that. His little sister, Jane, told me that Mrs. Baxter had
+hidden it, or something, so that Willie couldn't wear it, but I guess
+Jane wouldn't mind my telling YOU that she told me especially as they're
+letting him use it again to-night. I suppose he feels grander 'n the
+King o' Siam!”
+
+“No,” Mrs. Parcher returned, thoughtfully. “I don't think he does, just
+now.” Her gaze was fixed upon the dancing-platform, which most of
+the dancers were abandoning as the music fell away to an interval
+of silence. In the center of the platform there remained one group,
+consisting of Miss Pratt and five orators, and of the orators the most
+impassioned and gesticulative was William.
+
+“They all seem to want to dance with her all the time,” said Mrs.
+Parcher. “I heard her telling one of the boys, half an hour ago, that
+all she could give him was either the twenty-eighth regular dance or the
+sixteenth 'extra.'”
+
+“The what?” Mr. Parcher demanded, whirling to face her. “Do they think
+this party's going to keep running till day after to-morrow?” And then,
+as his eyes returned to the group on the platform, “That boy seems to
+have quite a touch of emotional insanity,” he remarked, referring to
+William. “What IS the matter with him?”
+
+“Oh, nothing,” his wife returned. “Only trying to arrange a dance with
+her. He seems to be in difficulties.”
+
+
+
+
+XXVI
+
+MISS BOKE
+
+Nothing could have been more evident than William's difficulties. They
+continued to exist, with equal obviousness, when the group broke up in
+some confusion, after a few minutes of animated discussion; Mr. Wallace
+Banks, that busy and executive youth, bearing Miss Pratt triumphantly
+off to the lemonade-punch-bowl, while William pursued Johnnie Watson
+and Joe Bullitt. He sought to detain them near the edge of the platform,
+though they appeared far from anxious to linger in his company; and he
+was able to arrest their attention only by clutching an arm of each. In
+fact, the good feeling which had latterly prevailed among these three
+appeared to be in danger of disintegrating. The occasion was too
+vital; and the watchword for “Miss Pratt's last night” was
+Devil-Take-the-Hindmost!
+
+“Now you look here, Johnnie,” William said, vehemently, “and you listen,
+too, Joe! You both got seven dances apiece with her, anyway, all on
+account of my not getting here early enough, and you got to--”
+
+“It wasn't because of any such reason,” young Mr. Watson protested. “I
+asked her for mine two days ago.”
+
+“Well, THAT wasn't fair, was it?” William cried. “Just because I never
+thought of sneaking in ahead like that, you go and--”
+
+“Well, you ought to thought of it,” Johnnie retorted, jerking his arm
+free of William's grasp. “I can't stand here GABBIN' all night!” And he
+hurried away.
+
+“Joe,” William began, fastening more securely upon Mr. Bullitt--“Joe,
+I've done a good many favors for you, and--”
+
+“I've got to see a man,” Mr. Bullitt interrupted. “Lemme go, Silly Bill.
+There's some body I got to see right away before the next dance begins.
+I GOT to! Honest I have!”
+
+William seized him passionately by the lapels of his coat. “Listen, Joe.
+For goodness' sake can't you listen a MINUTE? You GOT to give me--”
+
+“Honest, Bill,” his friend expostulated, backing away as forcefully as
+possible, “I got to find a fellow that's here to-night and ask him about
+something important before--”
+
+“Ye gods! Can't you wait a MINUTE?” William cried, keeping his grip upon
+Joe's lapels. “You GOT to give me anyway TWO out of all your dances with
+her! You heard her tell me, yourself, that she'd be willing if you or
+Johnnie or--”
+
+“Well, I only got five or six with her, and a couple extras. Johnnie's
+got seven. Whyn't you go after Johnnie? I bet he'd help you out, all
+right, if you kept after him. What you want to pester ME for, Bill?”
+
+The brutal selfishness of this speech, as well as its cold-blooded
+insincerity, produced in William the impulse to smite. Fortunately, his
+only hope lay in persuasion, and after a momentary struggle with his own
+features he was able to conceal what he desired to do to Joe's.
+
+He swallowed, and, increasing the affectionate desperation of his clutch
+upon Mr. Bullitt's lapels, “Joe,” he began, huskily--“Joe, if _I_'d got
+six reg'lar and two extras with Miss Pratt her last night here, and you
+got here late, and it wasn't your fault--I couldn't help being late,
+could I? It wasn't my fault I was late, I guess, was it? Well, if I
+was in YOUR place I wouldn't act the way you and Johnnie do--not in a
+thousand years I wouldn't! I'd say, 'You want a couple o' my dances with
+Miss Pratt, ole man? Why, CERTAINLY--'”
+
+“Yes, you would!” was the cynical comment of Mr. Bullitt, whose averted
+face and reluctant shoulders indicated a strong desire to conclude the
+interview. “To-night, especially!” he added.
+
+“Look here, Joe,” said William, desperately, “don't you realize that
+this is the very last night Miss Pratt's going to be in this town?”
+
+“You bet I do!” These words, though vehement, were inaudible; being
+formed in the mind of Mr. Bullitt, but, for diplomatic reasons, not
+projected upon the air by his vocal organs.
+
+William continued: “Joe, you and I have been friends ever since you and
+I were boys.” He spoke with emotion, but Joe had no appearance of being
+favorably impressed. “And when I look back,” said William, “I expect
+I've done more favors for you than I ever have for any oth--”
+
+But Mr. Bullitt briskly interrupted this appealing reminiscence.
+“Listen here, Silly Bill,” he said, becoming all at once friendly and
+encouraging--“Bill, there's other girls here you can get dances with.
+There's one or two of 'em sittin' around in the yard. You can have a
+bully time, even if you did come late.” And, with the air of discharging
+happily all the obligations of which William had reminded him, he added,
+“I'll tell you THAT much, Bill!”
+
+“Joe, you got to give me anyway ONE da--”
+
+“Look!” said Mr. Bullitt, eagerly. “Look sittin' yonder, over under
+that tree all by herself! That's a visiting girl named Miss Boke; she's
+visiting some old uncle or something she's got livin' here, and I bet
+you could--”
+
+“Joe, you GOT to--”
+
+“I bet that Miss Boke's a good dancer, Bill,” Joe continued, warmly.
+“May Parcher says so. She was tryin' to get me to dance with her myself,
+but I couldn't, or I would of. Honest, Bill, I would of! Bill, if I was
+you I'd sail right in there before anybody else got a start, and I'd--”
+
+“Ole man,” said William, gently, “you remember the time Miss Pratt and I
+had an engagement to go walkin', and you wouldn't of seen her for a week
+on account of your aunt dyin' in Kansas City, if I hadn't let you go
+along with us? Ole man, if you--”
+
+But the music sounded for the next dance, and Joe felt that it was
+indeed time to end this uncomfortable conversation. “I got to go, Bill,”
+ he said. “I GOT to!”
+
+“Wait just one minute,” William implored. “I want to say just this:
+if--”
+
+“Here!” exclaimed Mr. Bullitt. “I got to GO!”
+
+“I know it. That's why--”
+
+Heedless of remonstrance, Joe wrenched himself free, for it would have
+taken a powerful and ruthless man to detain him longer. “What you take
+me for?” he demanded, indignantly. “I got this with Miss PRATT!”
+
+And evading a hand which still sought to clutch him, he departed hotly.
+
+... Mr. Parcher's voice expressed wonder, a little later, as he
+recommended his wife to turn her gaze in the direction of “that Baxter
+boy” again. “Just look at him!” said Mr. Parcher. “His face has got more
+genuine idiocy in it than I've seen around here yet, and God knows I've
+been seeing some miracles in that line this summer!”
+
+“He's looking at Lola Pratt,” said Mrs. Parcher.
+
+“Don't you suppose I can see that?” Mr. Parcher returned, with some
+irritation. “That's what's the trouble with him. Why don't he QUIT
+looking at her?”
+
+“I think probably he feels badly because she's dancing with one of the
+other boys,” said his wife, mildly.
+
+“Then why can't he dance with somebody else himself?” Mr. Parcher
+inquired, testily. “Instead of standing around like a calf looking out
+of the butcher's wagon! By George! he looks as if he was just going to
+MOO!”
+
+“Of course he ought to be dancing with somebody,” Mrs. Parcher remarked,
+thoughtfully. “There are one or two more girls than boys here, and
+he's the only boy not dancing. I believe I'll--” And, not stopping to
+complete the sentence, she rose and walked across the interval of grass
+to William. “Good evening, William,” she said, pleasantly. “Don't you
+want to dance?”
+
+“Ma'am?” said William, blankly, and the eyes he turned upon here were
+glassy with anxiety. He was still determined to dance on and on and on
+with Miss Pratt, but he realized that there were great obstacles to be
+overcome before he could begin the process. He was feverishly awaiting
+the next interregnum between dances--then he would show Joe Bullitt and
+Johnnie Watson and Wallace Banks, and some others who had set themselves
+in his way, that he was “abs'lutely not goin' to stand it!”
+
+He couldn't stand it, he told himself, even if he wanted to--not
+to-night! He had “been through enough” in order to get to the party, he
+thought, thus defining sufferings connected with his costume, and now
+that he was here he WOULD dance and dance, on and on, with Miss Pratt.
+Anything else was unthinkable.
+
+He HAD to!
+
+“Don't you want to dance?” Mrs. Parcher repeated. “Have you looked
+around for a girl without a partner?”
+
+He continued to stare at her, plainly having no comprehension of her
+meaning.
+
+“Girl?” he echoed, in a tone of feeble inquiry.
+
+She smiled and nodded, taking his arm. “You come with me,” she said.
+“I'LL fix you up!”
+
+William suffered her to conduct him across the yard. Intensely
+preoccupied with what he meant to do as soon as the music paused, he
+was somewhat hazy, but when he perceived that he was being led in the
+direction of a girl, sitting solitary under one of the maple-trees, the
+sudden shock of fear aroused his faculties.
+
+“What--where--” he stammered, halting and seeking to detach himself from
+his hostess.
+
+“What is it?” she asked.
+
+“I got--I got to--” William began, uneasily. “I got to--”
+
+His purpose was to excuse himself on the ground that he had to find a
+man and tell him something important before the next dance, for in the
+confusion of the moment his powers refused him greater originality.
+But the vital part of his intended excuse remained unspoken, being
+disregarded and cut short, as millions of other masculine diplomacies
+have been, throughout the centuries, by the decisive action of ladies.
+
+Miss Boke had been sitting under the mapletree for a long time--so long,
+indeed, that she was acquiring a profound distaste for forestry and even
+for maple syrup. In fact, her state of mind was as desperate, in its
+way, as William's; and when a hostess leads a youth (in almost perfectly
+fitting conventional black) toward a girl who has been sitting alone
+through dance after dance, that girl knows what that youth is going to
+have to do.
+
+It must be confessed for Miss Boke that her eyes had been upon William
+from the moment Mrs. Parcher addressed him. Nevertheless, as the pair
+came toward her she looked casually away in an indifferent manner. And
+yet this may have been but a seeming unconsciousness, for upon the very
+instant of William's halting, and before he had managed to stammer “I
+got to--” for the fourth time, Miss Boke sprang to her feet and met Mrs.
+Parcher more than halfway.
+
+“Oh, Mrs. Parcher!” she called, coming forward.
+
+“I got--” the panic-stricken William again hastily began. “I got to--”
+
+“Oh, Mrs. Parcher,” cried Miss Boke, “I've been SO worried! There's a
+candle in that Japanese lantern just over your head, and I think it's
+going out.”
+
+“I'll run and get a fresh one in a minute,” said Mrs. Parcher, smiling
+benevolently and retaining William's arm with a little difficulty. “We
+were just coming to find you. I've brought--”
+
+“I got to--I got to find a m--” William made a last, stricken effort.
+
+“Miss Boke, this is Mr. Baxter,” said Mrs. Parcher, and she added, with
+what seemed to William hideous garrulity, “He and you both came late,
+dear, and he hasn't any dances engaged, either. So run and dance, and
+have a nice time together.”
+
+Thereupon this disastrous woman returned to her husband. Her look was
+conscientious; she thought she had done something pleasant!
+
+The full horror of his position was revealed to William in the relieved,
+confident, proprietor's smile of Miss Boke. For William lived by a code
+from which no previous experience had taught him any means of escape.
+Mrs. Parcher had made the statement--so needless and so ruinous--that
+he had no engagements; and in his dismay he had been unable to deny this
+fatal truth; he had been obliged to let it stand. Henceforth, he was
+committed absolutely to Miss Boke until either some one else asked her
+to dance, or (while yet in her close company) William could obtain an
+engagement with another girl. The latter alternative presented certain
+grave difficulties, also contracting William to dance with the other
+girl before once more obtaining his freedom, but undeniably he regarded
+it from the first as the more hopeful.
+
+He had to give form to the fatal invitation. “M'av this dance 'thyou?”
+ he muttered, doggedly.
+
+“Vurry pleased to!” Miss Boke responded, whereupon they walked in
+silence to the platform, stepped upon its surface, and embraced.
+
+They made a false start.
+
+They made another.
+
+They stood swaying to catch the time; then made another. After that they
+tried again, and were saved from a fall only by spasmodic and noticeable
+contortions.
+
+Miss Boke laughed tolerantly, as if forgiving William for his
+awkwardness, and his hot heart grew hotter with that injustice. She was
+a large, ample girl, weighing more than William (this must be definitely
+claimed in his behalf), and she had been spending the summer at a
+lakeside hotel where she had constantly danced “man's part.” To paint
+William's predicament at a stroke, his partner was a determined rather
+than a graceful dancer--and their efforts to attune themselves to each
+other and to the music were in a fair way to attract general attention.
+
+A coarse chuckle, a half-suppressed snort, assailed William's scarlet
+ear, and from the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of Joe Bullitt
+gliding by, suffused; while over Joe's detested shoulder could be seen
+the adorable and piquant face of the One girl--also suffused.
+
+“Doggone it!” William panted.
+
+“Oh, you mustn't be discouraged with yourself,” said Miss Boke,
+genially. “I've met lots of Men that had trouble to get started and
+turned out to be right good dancers, after all. It seems to me we're
+kind of workin' against each other. I'll tell you--you kind of let me
+do the guiding and I'll get you going fine. Now! ONE, two, ONE, two!
+There!”
+
+William ceased to struggle for dominance, and their efforts to “get
+started” were at once successful. With a muscular power that was
+surprising, Miss Boke bore him out into the circling current, swung
+him round and round, walked him backward half across the platform, then
+swung him round and round and round again. For a girl, she “guided”
+ remarkably well; nevertheless, a series of collisions, varying in
+intensity, marked the path of the pair upon the rather crowded platform.
+In such emergencies Miss Boke proved herself deft in swinging William
+to act as a buffer, and he several times found himself heavily stricken
+from the rear; anon his face would be pressed suffocatingly into Miss
+Boke's hair, without the slightest wish on his part for such intimacy.
+He had a helpless feeling, fully warranted by the circumstances. Also,
+he soon became aware that Miss Boke's powerful “guiding” was observed
+by the public; for, after one collision, more severe than others, a low
+voice hissed in his ear:
+
+“SHE WON'T HURT YOU MUCH, SILLY BILL. SHE'S ONLY IN FUN!”
+
+This voice belonged to the dancer with whom he had just been in painful
+contact, Johnnie Watson. However, Johnnie had whirled far upon another
+orbit before William found a retort, and then it was a feeble one.
+
+“I wish YOU'D try a few dances with her!” he whispered, inaudibly, but
+with unprecedented bitterness, as the masterly arm of his partner just
+saved him from going over the edge of the platform. “I bet she'd kill
+you!”
+
+More than once he tried to assert himself and resume his natural place
+as guide, but each time he did so he immediately got out of step with
+his partner, their knees collided embarrassingly, they staggered and
+walked upon each other's insteps--and William was forced to abandon the
+unequal contest.
+
+“I just love dancing,” said Miss Boke, serenely. “Don't you, Mr.
+Baxter?”
+
+“What?” he gulped. “Yeh.”
+
+“It's a beautiful floor for dancing, isn't it?”
+
+“Yeh.”
+
+“I just love dancing,” Miss Boke thought proper to declare again. “Don't
+you love it, Mr. Baxter?”
+
+This time he considered his enthusiasm to be sufficiently indicated by a
+nod. He needed all his breath.
+
+“It's lovely,” she murmured. “I hope they don't play 'Home, Sweet
+Home' very early at parties in this town. I could keep on like this all
+night!”
+
+To the gasping William it seemed that she already had kept on like this
+all night, and he expressed himself in one great, frank, agonized moan
+of relief when the music stopped. “I sh' think those musicians 'd be
+dead!” he said, as he wiped his brow. And then discovering that May
+Parcher stood at his elbow, he spoke hastily to her. “M'av the next
+'thyou?”
+
+But Miss Parcher had begun to applaud the musicians for an encore. She
+shook her head. “Next's the third extra,” she said. “And, anyhow, this
+one's going to be encored now. You can have the twenty-second--if there
+IS any!” William threw a wild glance about him, looking for other girls,
+but the tireless orchestra began to play the encore, and Miss Boke, who
+had been applauding, instantly cast herself upon his bosom. “Come on!”
+ she cried. “Don't let's miss a second of it; It's just glorious!”
+
+When the encore was finished she seized William's arm, and, mentioning
+that she'd left her fan upon the chair under the maple-tree, added,
+“Come on! Let's go get it QUICK!”
+
+Under the maple-tree she fanned herself and talked of her love for
+dancing until the music sounded again. “Come on!” she cried, then.
+“Don't let's miss a second of it! It's just glorious!”
+
+And grasping his arm, she propelled him toward the platform with a merry
+little rush.
+
+So passed five dances. Long, long dances.
+
+Likewise five encores. Long encores.
+
+
+
+
+XXVII
+
+MAROONED
+
+At every possible opportunity William hailed other girls with a hasty
+“M'av the next 'thyou?” but he was indeed unfortunate to have arrived so
+late.
+
+The best he got was a promise of “the nineteenth--if there IS any!”
+
+After each dance Miss Boke conducted him back to the maple-tree, aloof
+from the general throng, and William found the intermissions almost
+equal to his martyrdoms upon the platform. But, as there was a barely
+perceptible balance in their favor, he collected some fragments of his
+broken spirit, when Miss Boke would have borne him to the platform for
+the sixth time, and begged to “sit this one out,” alleging that he had
+“kind of turned his ankle, or something,” he believed.
+
+The cordial girl at once placed him upon the chair and gallantly
+procured another for herself. In her solicitude she sat close to him,
+looking fondly at his face, while William, though now and then rubbing
+his ankle for plausibility's sake, gazed at the platform with an
+expression which Gustave Dore would gratefully have found suggestive.
+William was conscious of a voice continually in action near him, but
+not of what it said. Miss Boke was telling him of the dancing “up at the
+lake” where she had spent the summer, and how much she had loved it, but
+William missed all that. Upon the many-colored platform the ineffable
+One drifted to and fro, back and forth; her little blonde head, in a
+golden net, glinting here and there like a bit of tinsel blowing across
+a flower-garden.
+
+And when that dance and its encore were over she went to lean against a
+tree, while Wallace Banks fanned her, but she was so busy with Wallace
+that she did not notice William, though she passed near enough to waft a
+breath of violet scent to his wan nose. A fragment of her silver speech
+tinkled in his ear:
+
+“Oh, Wallie Banks! Bid pid s'ant have Bruvva Josie-Joe's dance 'less Joe
+say so. Lola MUS' be fair. Wallie mustn't--”
+
+“That's that Miss Pratt,” observed Miss Boke, following William's gaze
+with some interest. “You met her yet?”
+
+“Yeh,” said William.
+
+“She's been visiting here all summer,” Miss Boke informed him. “I was at
+a little tea this afternoon, and some of the girls said this Miss Pratt
+said she'd never DREAM of getting engaged to any man that didn't have
+seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars. I don't know if it's true or
+not, but I expect so. Anyway, they said they heard her say so.”
+
+William lifted his right hand from his ankle and passed it, time after
+time, across his damp forehead. He did not believe that Miss Pratt could
+have expressed herself in so mercenary a manner, but if she HAD--well,
+one fact in British history had so impressed him that he remembered
+it even after Examination: William Pitt, the younger, had been Prime
+Minister of England at twenty-one.
+
+If an Englishman could do a thing like that, surely a bright, energetic
+young American needn't feel worried about seven hundred and fifty
+thousand dollars! And although William, at seventeen, had seldom
+possessed more than seven hundred and fifty cents, four long years must
+pass, and much could be done, before he would reach the age at which
+William Pitt attained the premiership--coincidentally a good, ripe,
+marriageable age. Still, seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars is
+a stiffish order, even allowing four long years to fill it; and
+undoubtedly Miss Boke's bit of gossip added somewhat to the already
+sufficient anxieties of William's evening.
+
+“Up at the lake,” Miss Boke chattered on, “we got to use the hotel
+dining-room for the hops. It's a floor a good deal like this floor is
+to-night--just about oily enough and as nice a floor as ever I danced
+on. We have awf'ly good times up at the lake. 'Course there aren't so
+many Men up there, like there are here to-night, and I MUST say I AM
+glad to get a chance to dance with a Man again! I told you you'd dance
+all right, once we got started, and look at the way it's turned out:
+our steps just suit exactly! If I must say it, I could scarcely think of
+anybody I EVER met I'd rather dance with. When anybody's step suits in
+with mine, that way, why, I LOVE to dance straight through an evening
+with one person, the way we're doing.”
+
+Dimly, yet with strong repulsion, William perceived that their
+interminable companionship had begun to affect Miss Boke with a liking
+for him. And as she chattered chummily on, revealing this increasing
+cordiality all the while--though her more obvious topics were dancing,
+dancing-floors, and “the lake”--the reciprocal sentiment roused in his
+breast was that of Sindbad the Sailor for the Old Man of the Sea.
+
+He was unable to foresee a future apart from her; and when she informed
+him that she preferred his style of dancing to all other styles shown
+by the Men at this party, her thus singling him out for praise only
+emphasized, in his mind, that point upon which he was the most
+embittered.
+
+“Yes!” he reflected. “It had to be ME!” With all the crowd to choose
+from, Mrs. Parcher had to go and pick on HIM! All, all the others went
+about, free as air, flitting from girl to girl--girls that danced like
+girls! All, all except William, danced with Miss PRATT! What Miss Pratt
+had offered HIM was a choice between the thirty-second dance and
+the twenty-first extra. THAT was what he had to look forward to: the
+thirty-second reg'lar or the twenty-first extra!
+
+Meanwhile, merely through eternity, he was sealed unto Miss Boke.
+
+The tie that bound them oppressed him as if it had been an ill-omened
+matrimony, and he sat beside her like an unwilling old husband. All the
+while, Miss Boke had no appreciation whatever of her companion's real
+condition, and, when little, spasmodic, sinister changes appeared in his
+face (as they certainly did from time to time) she attributed them to
+pains in his ankle. However, William decided to discard his ankle,
+after they had “sat out” two dances on account of it. He decided that he
+preferred dancing, and said he guessed he must be better.
+
+So they danced again--and again.
+
+When the fourteenth dance came, about half an hour before midnight, they
+were still dancing together.
+
+It was upon the conclusion of this fourteenth dance that Mr. Parcher
+mentioned to his wife a change in his feelings toward William. “I've
+been watching him,” said Mr. Parcher, “and I never saw true misery show
+plainer. He's having a really horrible time. By George! I hate him, but
+I've begun to feel kind of sorry for him! Can't you trot up somebody
+else, so he can get away from that fat girl?”
+
+Mrs. Parcher shook her head in a discouraged way. “I've tried, and I've
+tried, and I've tried!” she said.
+
+“Well, try again.”
+
+“I can't now.” She waved her hand toward the rear of the house. Round
+the corner marched a short procession of negroes, bearing trays; and
+the dancers were dispersing themselves to chairs upon the lawn “for
+refreshments.”
+
+“Well, do something,” Mr. Parcher urged. “We don't want to find him in
+the cistern in the morning!”
+
+Mrs. Parcher looked thoughtful, then brightened. “_I_ know!” she said.
+“I'll make May and Lola and their partners come sit in this little
+circle of chairs here, and then I'll go and bring Willie and Miss Boke
+to sit with them. I'll give Willie the seat at Lola's left. You keep the
+chairs.”
+
+Straightway she sped upon her kindly errand. It proved successful, so
+successful, indeed, that without the slightest effort--without even a
+hint on her part--she brought not only William and his constant friend
+to sit in the circle with Miss Pratt, Miss Parcher and their escorts,
+but Mr. Bullitt, Mr. Watson, Mr. Banks, and three other young gentlemen
+as well. Nevertheless, Mrs. Parcher managed to carry out her plan,
+and after a little display of firmness, saw William satisfactorily
+established in the chair at Miss Pratt's left.
+
+At last, at last, he sat beside the fairy-like creature, and filled
+his lungs with infinitesimal particles of violet scent. More: he was no
+sooner seated than the little blonde head bent close to his; the golden
+net brushed his cheek. She whispered:
+
+“No'ty ickle boy Batster! Lola's last night, an' ickle boy Batster
+fluttin'! Flut all night wif dray bid dirl!”
+
+William made no reply.
+
+There are occasions, infrequent, of course, when even a bachelor is not
+flattered by being accused of flirting. William's feelings toward Miss
+Boke had by this time come to such a pass that he, regarded the charge
+of flirting with her as little less than an implication of grave
+mental deficiency. And well he remembered how Miss Pratt, beholding his
+subjugated gymnastics in the dance, had grown pink with laughter! But
+still the rose-leaf lips whispered:
+
+“Lola saw! Lola saw bad boy Batster under dray bid tree fluttin' wif
+dray bid dirl. Fluttin' all night wif dray bid 'normous dirl!”
+
+Her cruelty was all unwitting; she intended to rally him sweetly. But
+seventeen is deathly serious at such junctures, and William was in a
+sensitive condition. He made no reply in words. Instead, he drew himself
+up (from the waist, that is, because he was sitting) with a kind of
+proud dignity. And that was all.
+
+“Oo tross?” whispered Lola.
+
+He spake not.
+
+“'Twasn't my fault about dancing,” she said. “Bad boy! What made you
+come so late?”
+
+He maintained his silence and the accompanying icy dignity, whereupon
+she made a charming little pout.
+
+“Oo be so tross,” she said, “Lola talk to nice Man uvver side of her!”
+
+With that she turned her back upon him and prattled merrily to the
+gentleman of sixteen upon her right.
+
+Still and cold sat William. Let her talk to the Man at the other side
+of her as she would, and never so gaily, William knew that she was
+conscious every instant of the reproachful presence upon her left. And
+somehow these moments of quiet and melancholy dignity became the most
+satisfactory he had known that evening. For as he sat, so silent, so
+austere, and not yet eating, though a plate of chicken salad had been
+placed upon his lap, he began to feel that there was somewhere about
+him a mysterious superiority which set him apart from other people--and
+above them. This quality, indefinable and lofty, had carried him through
+troubles, that very night, which would have wrecked the lives of such
+simple fellows as Joe Bullitt and Johnnie Watson. And although Miss
+Pratt continued to make merry with the Man upon her right, it seemed
+to William that this was but outward show. He had a strange, subtle
+impression that the mysterious superiority which set him apart from
+others was becoming perceptible to her--that she was feeling it, too.
+
+Alas! Such are the moments Fate seizes upon to play the clown!
+
+Over the chatter and laughter of the guests rose a too familiar voice.
+“Lemme he'p you to nice tongue samwich, lady. No'm? Nice green lettuce
+samwich, lady?”
+
+Genesis!
+
+“Nice tongue samwich, suh? Nice lettuce samwich, lady?” he could be
+heard vociferating--perhaps a little too much as if he had sandwiches
+for sale. “Lemme jes' lay this nice green lettuce samwich on you' plate
+fer you.”
+
+His wide-spread hand bore the tray of sandwiches high overhead, for his
+style in waiting was florid, though polished. He walked with a faint,
+shuffling suggestion of a prance, a lissome pomposity adopted in
+obedience to the art-sense within him which bade him harmonize himself
+with occasions of state and fashion. His manner was the super-supreme
+expression of graciousness, but the graciousness was innocent, being but
+an affectation and nothing inward--for inwardly Genesis was humble. He
+was only pretending to be the kind of waiter he would like to be.
+
+And because he was a new waiter he strongly wished to show familiarity
+with his duties--familiarity, in fact, with everything and everybody.
+This yearning, born of self-doubt, and intensified by a slight touch of
+gin, was beyond question the inspiration of his painful behavior when
+he came near the circle of chairs where sat Mr. and Mrs. Parcher, Miss
+Parcher, Miss Pratt, Miss Boke, Mr. Watson, Mr. Bullitt, others--and
+William.
+
+“Nice tongue samwich, lady!” he announced, semi-cake-walking beneath his
+high-borne tray.
+
+“Nice green lettuce sam--” He came suddenly to a dramatic dead-stop as he
+beheld William sitting before him, wearing that strange new dignity and
+Mr. Baxter's evening clothes. “Name o' goo'ness!” Genesis exclaimed, so
+loudly that every one looked up. “How in the livin' worl' you evuh come
+to git here? You' daddy sut'ny mus' 'a' weakened 'way down 'fo' he let
+you wear his low-cut ves' an' pants an' long-tail coat! I bet any man
+fifty cents you gone an' stole 'em out aftuh he done went to bed!”
+
+And he burst into a wild, free African laugh.
+
+At seventeen such things are not embarrassing; they are catastrophical.
+But, mercifully, catastrophes often produce a numbness in the victims.
+More as in a trance than actually William heard the outbreak of his
+young companions; and, during the quarter of an hour subsequent to
+Genesis's performance, the oft-renewed explosions of their mirth made
+but a kind of horrid buzzing in his ears. Like sounds borne from far
+away were the gaspings of Mr. and Mrs. Parcher, striving with all their
+strength to obtain mastery of themselves once more.
+
+... A flourish of music challenged the dancers. Couples appeared upon
+the platform.
+
+The dreadful supper was over.
+
+The ineffable One, supremely pink, rose from her seat at William's
+side and moved toward the platform with the glowing Joe Bullitt. Then
+William, roused to action by this sight, sprang to his feet and took a
+step toward them. But it was only one weak step.
+
+A warm and ample hand placed itself firmly inside the crook of his
+elbow. “Let's get started for this one before the floor gets all crowded
+up,” said Miss Boke.
+
+Miss Boke danced and danced with him; she danced him on--and on--and
+on----
+
+At half past one the orchestra played “Home, Sweet Home.” As the last
+bars sounded, a group of earnest young men who had surrounded the lovely
+guest of honor, talking vehemently, broke into loud shouts, embraced one
+another and capered variously over the lawn. Mr. Parcher beheld from a
+distance these manifestations, and then, with an astonishment even more
+profound, took note of the tragic William, who was running toward him,
+radiant--Miss Boke hovering futilely in the far background.
+
+“What's all the hullabaloo?” Mr. Parcher inquired.
+
+“Miss Pratt!” gasped William. “Miss Pratt!”
+
+“Well, what about her?”
+
+And upon receiving William's reply, Mr. Parcher might well have
+discerned behind it the invisible hand of an ironic but recompensing
+Providence making things even--taking from the one to give to the other.
+
+“She's going to stay!” shouted the happy William. “She's promised to
+stay another week!”
+
+And then, mingling with the sounds of rejoicing, there ascended to
+heaven the stricken cry of an elderly man plunging blindly into the
+house in search of his wife.
+
+
+
+
+XXVIII
+
+RANNIE KIRSTED
+
+Observing the monotonously proper behavior of the sun, man had an absurd
+idea and invented Time. Becoming still more absurd, man said, “So much
+shall be a day; such and such shall be a week. All weeks shall be the
+same length.” Yet every baby knows better! How long for Johnnie Watson,
+for Joe Bullitt, for Wallace Banks--how long for William Sylvanus Baxter
+was the last week of Miss Pratt? No one can answer. How long was that
+week for Mr. Parcher? Again the mind is staggered.
+
+Many people, of course, considered it to be a week of average size.
+Among these was Jane.
+
+Throughout seven days which brought some tense moments to the Baxter
+household, Jane remained calm; and she was still calm upon the eighth
+morning as she stood in the front yard of her own place of residence,
+gazing steadily across the street. The object of her grave attention was
+an ample brick house, newly painted white after repairs and enlargements
+so inspiring to Jane's faculty for suggesting better ways of doing
+things, that the workmen had learned to address her, with a slight
+bitterness, as “Madam President.”
+
+Throughout the process of repair, and until the very last of the
+painting, Jane had considered this house to be as much her property as
+anybody's; for children regard as ownerless all vacant houses and all
+houses in course of construction or radical alteration. Nothing short of
+furniture--intimate furniture in considerable quantity--hints that the
+public is not expected. However, such a hint, or warning, was conveyed
+to Jane this morning, for two “express wagons” were standing at the curb
+with their backs impolitely toward the brick house; and powerful-voiced
+men went surging to and fro under fat arm-chairs, mahogany tables,
+disarticulated bedsteads, and baskets of china and glassware; while a
+harassed lady appeared in the outer doorway, from time to time, with
+gestures of lamentation and entreaty. Upon the sidewalk, between the
+wagons and the gate, was a broad wet spot, vaguely circular, with a
+partial circumference of broken glass and extinct goldfish.
+
+Jane was forced to conclude that the brick house did belong to somebody,
+after all. Wherefore, she remained in her own yard, a steadfast
+spectator, taking nourishment into her system at regular intervals.
+This was beautifully automatic: in each hand she held a slice of bread,
+freely plastered over with butter, apple sauce, and powdered sugar;
+and when she had taken somewhat from the right hand, that hand slowly
+descended with its burden, while, simultaneously, the left began to
+rise, reaching the level of her mouth precisely at the moment when a
+little wave passed down her neck, indicating that the route was clear.
+Then, having made delivery, the left hand sank, while the right began to
+rise again. And, so well had custom trained Jane's members, never once
+did she glance toward either of these faithful hands or the food that
+it supported; her gaze was all the while free to remain upon the house
+across the way and the great doings before it.
+
+After a while, something made her wide eyes grow wider almost to their
+utmost. Nay, the event was of that importance her mechanical hands
+ceased to move and stopped stock-still, the right half-way up, the left
+half-way down, as if because of sudden motor trouble within Jane. Her
+mouth was equally affected, remaining open at a visible crisis in the
+performance of its duty. These were the tokens of her agitation upon
+beholding the removal of a dolls' house from one of the wagons. This
+dolls' house was at least five feet high, of proportionate breadth and
+depths the customary absence of a facade disclosing an interior of four
+luxurious floors, with stairways, fireplaces, and wall-paper. Here was a
+mansion wherein doll-duchesses, no less, must dwell.
+
+Straightway, a little girl ran out of the open doorway of the brick
+house and, with a self-importance concentrated to the point of
+shrewishness, began to give orders concerning the disposal of her
+personal property, which included (as she made clear) not only the
+dolls' mansion, but also three dolls' trunks and a packing-case of fair
+size. She was a thin little girl, perhaps half a year younger than Jane;
+and she was as soiled, particularly in respect to hands, brow, chin, and
+the knees of white stockings, as could be expected of any busybodyish
+person of nine or ten whose mother is house-moving. But she was
+gifted--if we choose to put the matter in the hopeful, sweeter way--she
+was gifted with an unusually loud and shrill voice, and she made herself
+heard over the strong-voiced men to such emphatic effect that one of the
+latter, with the dolls' mansion upon his back, paused in the gateway to
+acquaint her with his opinion that of all the bossy little girls he had
+ever seen, heard, or heard of, she was the bossiest.
+
+“THE worst!” he added.
+
+The little girl across the street was of course instantly aware of Jane,
+though she pretended not to be; and from the first her self-importance
+was in large part assumed for the benefit of the observer. After a
+momentary silence, due to her failure to think of any proper response to
+the workman who so pointedly criticized her, she resumed the peremptory
+direction of her affairs. She ran in and out of the house, her brow dark
+with frowns, her shoulders elevated; and by every means at her disposal
+she urged her audience to behold the frightful responsibilities of one
+who must keep a thousand things in her head at once, and yet be ready
+for decisive action at any instant.
+
+There may have been one weakness in this strong performance: the
+artistic sincerity of it was a little discredited by the increasing
+frequency with which the artist took note of her effect. During each
+of her most impressive moments, she flashed, from the far corner of her
+eye, two questions at Jane: “How about THAT one? Are you still watching
+Me?”
+
+Then, apparently in the very midst of her cares, she suddenly and
+without warning ceased to boss, walked out into the street, halted, and
+stared frankly at Jane.
+
+Jane had begun her automatic feeding again. She continued it, meanwhile
+seriously returning the stare of the new neighbor. For several minutes
+this mutual calm and inoffensive gaze was protracted; then Jane, after
+swallowing the last morsel of her supplies, turned her head away and
+looked at a tree. The little girl, into whose eyes some wistfulness had
+crept, also turned her head and looked at a tree. After a while, she
+advanced to the curb on Jane's side of the street, and, swinging her
+right foot, allowed it to kick the curbstone repeatedly.
+
+Jane came out to the sidewalk and began to kick one of the
+fence-pickets.
+
+“You see that ole fatty?” asked the little girl, pointing to one of the
+workmen, thus sufficiently identified.
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“That's the one broke the goldfish,” said the little girl. There was a
+pause during which she continued to scuff the curbstone with her shoe,
+Jane likewise scuffing the fence-picket. “I'm goin' to have papa get him
+arrested,” added the stranger.
+
+“My papa got two men arrested once,” Jane said, calmly. “Two or three.”
+
+The little girl's eyes, wandering upward, took note of Jane's papa's
+house, and of a fierce young gentleman framed in an open window
+up-stairs. He was seated, wore ink upon his forehead, and tapped his
+teeth with a red penholder.
+
+“Who is that?” she asked.
+
+“It's Willie.”
+
+“Is it your papa?”
+
+“NO-O-O-O!” Jane exclaimed. “It's WILLIE!”
+
+“Oh,” said the little girl, apparently satisfied.
+
+Each now scuffed less energetically with her shoe; feet slowed down;
+so did conversation, and, for a time, Jane and the stranger wrapped
+themselves in stillness, though there may have been some silent
+communing between them. Then the new neighbor placed her feet far apart
+and leaned backward upon nothing, curving her front outward and her
+remarkably flexible spine inward until a profile view of her was grandly
+semicircular.
+
+Jane watched her attentively, but without comment. However, no one
+could have doubted that the processes of acquaintance were progressing
+favorably.
+
+“Let's go in our yard,” said Jane.
+
+The little girl straightened herself with a slight gasp, and accepted
+the invitation. Side by side, the two passed through the open gate,
+walked gravely forth upon the lawn, and halted, as by common consent.
+Jane thereupon placed her feet wide apart and leaned backward upon
+nothing, attempting the feat in contortion just performed by the
+stranger.
+
+“Look,” she said. “Look at ME!”
+
+But she lacked the other's genius, lost her balance, and fell. Born
+persistent, she immediately got to her feet and made fresh efforts.
+
+“No! Look at ME!” the little girl cried, becoming semicircular again.
+“This is the way. I call it 'puttin' your stummick out o' joint.' You
+haven't got yours out far enough.”
+
+“Yes, I have,” said Jane, gasping.
+
+“Well, to do it right, you must WALK that way. As soon as you get your
+stummick out o' joint, you must begin an' walk. Look! Like this.” And
+the little girl, having achieved a state of such convexity that her
+braided hair almost touched the ground behind her, walked successfully
+in that singular attitude.
+
+“I'm walkin',” Jane protested, her face not quite upside down. “Look!
+I'M walkin' that way, too. My stummick--”
+
+There came an outraged shout from above, and a fierce countenance,
+stained with ink, protruded from the window.
+
+“Jane!”
+
+“What?”
+
+“Stop that! Stop putting your stomach out in front of you like that!
+It's disgraceful!”
+
+Both young ladies, looking rather oppressed, resumed the perpendicular.
+“Why doesn't he like it?” the stranger asked in a tone of pure wonder.
+
+“I don't know,” said Jane. “He doesn't like much of anything. He's
+seventeen years old.”
+
+After that, the two stared moodily at the ground for a little while,
+chastened by the severe presence above; then Jane brightened.
+
+“_I_ know!” she exclaimed, cozily. “Let's play callers. Right here by
+this bush 'll be my house. You come to call on me, an' we'll talk
+about our chuldren. You be Mrs. Smith an' I'm Mrs. Jones.” And in the
+character of a hospitable matron she advanced graciously toward the new
+neighbor. “Why, my dear Mrs. SMITH, come right IN! I THOUGHT you'd call
+this morning. I want to tell you about my lovely little daughter. She's
+only ten years old, an' says the brightest THINGS! You really must--”
+
+But here Jane interrupted herself abruptly, and, hopping behind the
+residential bush, peeped over it, not at Mrs. Smith, but at a boy of ten
+or eleven who was passing along the sidewalk. Her expression was gravely
+interested, somewhat complacent; and Mrs. Smith was not so lacking in
+perception that she failed to understand how completely--for the time
+being, at least--calling was suspended.
+
+The boy whistled briskly, “My country, 'tis of thee,” and though his
+knowledge of the air failed him when he finished the second line, he
+was not disheartened, but began at the beginning again, continuing
+repeatedly after this fashion to offset monotony by patriotism. He
+whistled loudly; he walked with ostentatious intent to be at some heavy
+affair in the distance; his ears were red. He looked neither to the
+right nor to the left.
+
+That is, he looked neither to the right nor to the left until he had
+passed the Baxters' fence. But when he had gone as far as the upper
+corner of the fence beyond, he turned his head and looked back, without
+any expression--except that of a whistler--at Jane. And thus, still
+whistling “My country, 'tis of thee,” and with blank pink face over his
+shoulder, he proceeded until he was out of sight.
+
+“Who was that boy?” the new neighbor then inquired.
+
+“It's Freddie,” said Jane, placidly. “He's in our Sunday-school. He's in
+love of me.”
+
+“JANE!”
+
+Again the outraged and ink-stained countenance glared down from the
+window.
+
+“What you want?” Jane asked.
+
+“What you MEAN talking about such things?” William demanded. “In all my
+life I never heard anything as disgusting! Shame on you!”
+
+The little girl from across the street looked upward thoughtfully. “He's
+mad,” she remarked, and, regardless of Jane's previous information, “It
+IS your papa, isn't it?” she insisted.
+
+“No!” said Jane, testily. “I told you five times it's my brother
+Willie.”
+
+“Oh!” said the little girl, and, grasping the fact that William's
+position was, in dignity and authority, negligible, compared with that
+which she had persisted in imagining, she felt it safe to tint her
+upward gaze with disfavor. “He acts kind of crazy,” she murmured.
+
+“He's in love of Miss Pratt,” said Jane. “She's goin' away to-day. She
+said she'd go before, but to-day she IS! Mr. Parcher, where she visits,
+he's almost dead, she's stayed so long. She's awful, I think.”
+
+William, to whom all was audible, shouted, hoarsely, “I'll see to YOU!”
+ and disappeared from the window.
+
+“Will he come down here?” the little girl asked, taking a step toward
+the gate.
+
+“No. He's just gone to call mamma. All she'll do' ll be to tell us to go
+play somewheres else. Then we can go talk to Genesis.”
+
+“Who?”
+
+“Genesis. He's puttin' a load of coal in the cellar window with a
+shovel. He's nice.”
+
+“What's he put the coal in the window for?”
+
+“He's a colored man,” said Jane.
+
+“Shall we go talk to him now?”
+
+“No,” Jane said, thoughtfully. “Let's be playin' callers when mamma
+comes to tell us to go 'way. What was your name?”
+
+“Rannie.”
+
+“No, it wasn't.”
+
+“It is too, Rannie,” the little girl insisted. “My whole name's Mary
+Randolph Kirsted, but my short name's Rannie.”
+
+Jane laughed. “What a funny name!” she said. “I didn't mean your real
+name; I meant your callers' name. One of us was Mrs. Jones, and one
+was--”
+
+“I want to be Mrs. Jones,” said Rannie.
+
+“Oh, my DEAR Mrs. Jones,” Jane began at once, “I want to tell you
+about my lovely chuldren. I have two, one only seven years old, and the
+other--”
+
+“Jane!” called Mrs. Baxter from William's window.
+
+“Yes'm?”
+
+“You must go somewhere else to play. Willie's trying to work at his
+studies up here, and he says you've disturbed him very much.”
+
+“Yes'm.”
+
+The obedient Jane and her friend turned to go, and as they went, Miss
+Mary Randolph Kirsted allowed her uplifted eyes to linger with increased
+disfavor upon William, who appeared beside Mrs. Baxter at the window.
+
+“I tell you what let's do,” Rannie suggested in a lowered voice. “He got
+so fresh with us, an' made your mother come, an' all, let's--let's--”
+
+She hesitated.
+
+“Let's what?” Jane urged her, in an eager whisper.
+
+“Let's think up somep'n he won't like--an' DO it!”
+
+They disappeared round a corner of the house, their heads close
+together.
+
+
+
+
+XXIX
+
+“DON'T FORGET!”
+
+Up-stairs, Mrs. Baxter moved to the door of her son's room, pretending
+to be unconscious of the gaze he maintained upon her. Mustering courage
+to hum a little tune and affecting inconsequence, she had nearly crossed
+the threshold when he said, sternly:
+
+“And this is all you intend to say to that child?”
+
+“Why, yes, Willie.”
+
+“And yet I told you what she said!” he cried. “I told you I HEARD her
+stand there and tell that dirty-faced little girl how that idiot boy
+that's always walkin' past here four or five times a day, whistling and
+looking back, was in 'love of' her! Ye gods! What kind of a person will
+she grow up into if you don't punish her for havin' ideas like that at
+her age?”
+
+Mrs. Baxter regarded him mildly, not replying, and he went on, with loud
+indignation:
+
+“I never heard of such a thing! That Worm walkin' past here four or five
+times a day just to look at JANE! And her standing there, calmly tellin'
+that sooty-faced little girl, 'He's in love of me'! Why, it's enough to
+sicken a man! Honestly, if I had my way, I'd see that both she and that
+little Freddie Banks got a first-class whipping!”
+
+“Don't you think, Willie,” said Mrs. Baxter--“don't you think that,
+considering the rather noncommittal method of Freddie's courtship, you
+are suggesting extreme measures?”
+
+“Well, SHE certainly ought to be punished!” he insisted, and then, with
+a reversal to agony, he shuddered. “That's the least of it!” he cried.
+“It's the insulting things you always allow her to say of one of the
+noblest girls in the United States--THAT'S what counts! On the very last
+day--yes, almost the last hour--that Miss Pratt's in this town, you let
+your only daughter stand there and speak disrespectfully of her--and
+then all you do is tell her to 'go and play somewhere else'! I don't
+understand your way of bringing up a child,” he declared, passionately.
+“I do NOT!”
+
+“There, there, Willie,” Mrs. Baxter said. “You're all wrought up--”
+
+“I am NOT wrought up!” shouted William. “Why should I be charged with--”
+
+“Now, now!” she said. “You'll feel better to-morrow.”
+
+“What do you mean by that?” he demanded, breathing deeply.
+
+For reply she only shook her head in an odd little way, and in her
+parting look at him there was something at once compassionate, amused,
+and reassuring.
+
+“You'll be all right, Willie,” she said, softly, and closed the door.
+
+Alone, William lifted clenched hands in a series of tumultuous
+gestures at the ceiling; then he moaned and sank into a chair at his
+writing-table. Presently a comparative calm was restored to him, and
+with reverent fingers he took from a drawer a one-pound box of candy,
+covered with white tissue-paper, girdled with blue ribbon. He set the
+box gently beside him upon the table; then from beneath a large, green
+blotter drew forth some scribbled sheets. These he placed before him,
+and, taking infinite pains with his handwriting, slowly copied:
+
+
+DEAR LOLA--I presume when you are reading these lines it will be this
+afternoon and you will be on the train moving rapidly away from this old
+place here farther and farther from it all. As I sit here at my old desk
+and look back upon it all while I am writing this farewell letter I hope
+when you are reading it you also will look back upon it all and think
+of one you called (Alias) Little Boy Baxter. As I sit here this morning
+that you are going away at last I look back and I cannot rember any
+summer in my whole life which has been like this summer, because a great
+change has come over me this summer. If you would like to know what this
+means it was something like I said when John Watson got there yesterday
+afternoon and interrupted what I said. May you enjoy this candy and think
+of the giver. I will put something in with this letter. It is something
+maybe you would like to have and in exchange I would give all I possess
+for one of you if you would send it to me when you get home. Please do
+this for now my heart is braking. Yours sincerely, WILLIAM S. BAXTER
+(ALIAS) LITTLE BOY BAXTER.
+
+
+William opened the box of candy and placed the letter upon the top layer
+of chocolates. Upon the letter he placed a small photograph (wrapped in
+tissue-paper) of himself. Then, with a pair of scissors, he trimmed
+an oblong of white cardboard to fit into the box. Upon this piece of
+cardboard he laboriously wrote, copying from a tortured, inky sheet
+before him:
+
+     IN DREAM
+     BY WILLIAM S. BAXTER
+
+     The sunset light
+     Fades into night
+     But never will I forget
+     The smile that haunts me yet
+     Through the future four long years
+     I hope you will remember with tears
+     Whate'er my rank or station
+     Whilst receiving my education
+     Though far away you seem
+     I will see thee in dream.
+
+He placed his poem between the photograph and the letter, closed the
+box, and tied the tissue-paper about it again with the blue ribbon.
+Throughout these rites (they were rites both in spirit and in manner) he
+was subject to little catchings of the breath, half gulp, half sigh. But
+the dolorous tokens passed, and he sat with elbows upon the table,
+his chin upon his hands, reverie in his eyes. Tragedy had given way to
+gentler pathos;--beyond question, something had measurably soothed him.
+Possibly, even in this hour preceding the hour of parting, he knew a
+little of that proud amazement which any poet is entitled to feel over
+each new lyric miracle just wrought.
+
+Perhaps he was helped, too, by wondering what Miss Pratt would think of
+him when she read “In Dream,” on the train that afternoon. For reasons
+purely intuitive, and decidedly without foundation in fact, he was
+satisfied that no rival farewell poem would be offered her, and so it
+may be that he thought “In Dream” might show her at last, in one blaze
+of light, what her eyes had sometimes fleetingly intimated she did
+perceive in part--the difference between William and such every-day,
+rather well-meaning, fairly good-hearted people as Joe Bullitt, Wallace
+Banks, Johnnie Watson, and others. Yes, when she came to read “In
+Dream,” and to “look back upon it all,” she would surely know--at last!
+
+And then, when the future four long years (while receiving his
+education) had passed, he would go to her. He would go to her, and
+she would take him by the hand, and lead him to her father, and say,
+“Father, this is William.”
+
+But William would turn to her, and, with the old, dancing light in his
+eyes, “No, Lola,” he would say, “not William, but Ickle Boy Baxter!
+Always and always, just that for you; oh, my dear!”
+
+And then, as in story and film and farce and the pleasanter kinds of
+drama, her father would say, with kindly raillery, “Well, when you two
+young people get through, you'll find me in the library, where I have a
+pretty good BUSINESS proposition to lay before YOU, young man!”
+
+And when the white-waistcoated, white-side-burned old man had,
+chuckling, left the room, William would slowly lift his arms; but Lola
+would move back from him a step--only a step--and after laying a finger
+archly upon her lips to check him, “Wait, sir!” she would say. “I have a
+question to ask you, sir!”
+
+“What question, Lola?”
+
+“THIS question, sir!” she would reply. “In all that summer, sir, so long
+ago, why did you never tell me what you WERE, until I had gone away and
+it was too late to show you what I felt? Ah, Ickle Boy Baxter, I never
+understood until I looked back upon it all, after I had read 'In Dream,'
+on the train that day! THEN I KNEW!” “And now, Lola?” William would say.
+“Do you understand me, NOW?”
+
+Shyly she would advance the one short step she had put between
+them, while he, with lifted, yearning arms, this time destined to no
+disappointment----
+
+At so vital a moment did Mrs. Baxter knock at his door and consoling
+reverie cease to minister unto William. Out of the rosy sky he dropped,
+falling miles in an instant, landing with a bump. He started, placed the
+sacred box out of sight, and spoke gruffly.
+
+“What you want?”
+
+“I'm not coming in, Willie,” said his mother. “I just wanted to know--I
+thought maybe you were looking out of the window and noticed where those
+children went.”
+
+“What children?”
+
+“Jane and that little girl from across the street--Kirsted, her name
+must be.”
+
+“No. I did not.”
+
+“I just wondered,” Mrs. Baxter said, timidly. “Genesis thinks he
+heard the little Kirsted girl telling Jane she had plenty of money for
+carfare. He thinks they went somewhere on a street-car. I thought maybe
+you noticed wheth--”
+
+“I told you I did not.”
+
+“All right,” she said, placatively. “I didn't mean to bother you, dear.”
+
+Following this there was a silence; but no sound of receding footsteps
+indicated Mrs. Baxter's departure from the other side of the closed
+door.
+
+“Well, what you WANT?” William shouted.
+
+“Nothing--nothing at all,” said the compassionate voice. “I just thought
+I'd have lunch a little later than usual; not till half past one. That
+is if--well, I thought probably you meant to go to the station to see
+Miss Pratt off on the one-o'clock train.”
+
+Even so friendly an interest as this must have appeared to the quivering
+William an intrusion in his affairs, for he demanded, sharply:
+
+“How'd you find out she's going at one o'clock?”
+
+“Why--why, Jane mentioned it,” Mrs. Baxter replied, with obvious
+timidity. “Jane said--”
+
+She was interrupted by the loud, desperate sound of William's fist
+smiting his writing-table, so sensitive was his condition. “This is just
+unbearable!” he cried. “Nobody's business is safe from that child!”
+
+“Why, Willie, I don't see how it matters if--”
+
+He uttered a cry. “No! Nothing matters! Nothing matters at all! Do you
+s'pose I want that child, with her insults, discussing when Miss Pratt
+is or is not going away? Don't you know there are SOME things that have
+no business to be talked about by every Tom, Dick, and Harry?”
+
+“Yes, dear,” she said. “I understand, of course. Jane only told me she
+met Mr. Parcher on the street, and he mentioned that Miss Pratt was
+going at one o'clock to-day. That's all I--”
+
+“You say you understand,” he wailed, shaking his head drearily at the
+closed door, “and yet, even on such a day as this, you keep TALKING!
+Can't you see sometimes there's times when a person can't stand to--”
+
+“Yes, Willie,” Mrs. Baxter interposed, hurriedly. “Of course! I'm going
+now. I have to go hunt up those children, anyway. You try to be back for
+lunch at half past one--and don't worry, dear; you really WILL be all
+right!”
+
+She departed, a sigh from the abyss following her as she went down the
+hall. Her comforting words meant nothing pleasant to her son, who felt
+that her optimism was out of place and tactless. He had no intention to
+be “all right,” and he desired nobody to interfere with his misery.
+
+He went to his mirror, and, gazing long--long and piercingly--at the
+William there limned, enacted, almost unconsciously, a little scene of
+parting. The look of suffering upon the mirrored face slowly altered; in
+its place came one still sorrowful, but tempered with sweet indulgence.
+He stretched out his hand, as if he set it upon a head at about the
+height of his shoulder.
+
+“Yes, it may mean--it may mean forever!” he said in a low, tremulous
+voice. “Little girl, we MUST be brave!”
+
+And the while his eyes gazed into the mirror, they became expressive
+of a momentary pleased surprise, as if, even in the arts of sorrow, he
+found himself doing better than he knew. But his sorrow was none the
+less genuine because of that.
+
+Then he noticed the ink upon his forehead, and went away to wash. When
+he returned he did an unusual thing--he brushed his coat thoroughly,
+removing it for this special purpose. After that, he earnestly combed
+and brushed his hair, and retied his tie. Next, he took from a drawer
+two clean handkerchiefs. He placed one in his breast pocket, part of the
+colored border of the handkerchief being left on exhibition, and with
+the other he carefully wiped his shoes. Finally, he sawed it back and
+forth across them, and, with a sigh, languidly dropped it upon the
+floor, where it remained.
+
+Returning to the mirror, he again brushed his hair--he went so far, this
+time, as to brush his eyebrows, which seemed not much altered by the
+operation. Suddenly, he was deeply affected by something seen in the
+glass.
+
+“By George!” he exclaimed aloud.
+
+Seizing a small hand-mirror, he placed it in juxtaposition to his right
+eye, and closely studied his left profile as exhibited in the larger
+mirror. Then he examined his right profile, subjecting it to a like
+scrutiny emotional, yet attentive and prolonged.
+
+“By George!” he exclaimed, again. “By George!”
+
+He had made a discovery. There was a downy shadow upon his upper lip.
+What he had just found out was that this down could be seen projecting
+beyond the line of his lip, like a tiny nimbus. It could be seen in
+PROFILE.
+
+“By GEORGE!” William exclaimed.
+
+He was still occupied with the two mirrors when his mother again tapped
+softly upon his door, rousing him as from a dream (brief but engaging)
+to the heavy realities of that day.
+
+“What you want now?”
+
+“I won't come in,” said Mrs. Baxter. “I just came to see.”
+
+“See what?”
+
+“I wondered--I thought perhaps you needed something. I knew your watch
+was out of order--”
+
+“F'r 'evan's sake what if it is?”
+
+She offered a murmur of placative laughter as her apology, and said:
+“Well, I just thought I'd tell you--because if you did intend going to
+the station, I thought you probably wouldn't want to miss it and get
+there too late. I've got your hat here all nicely brushed for you. It's
+nearly twenty minutes of one, Willie.”
+
+“WHAT?”
+
+“Yes, it is. It's--”
+
+She had no further speech with him.
+
+Breathless, William flung open his door, seized the hat, racketed down
+the stairs, and out through the front door, which he left open behind
+him. Eight seconds later he returned at a gallop, hurtled up the stairs
+and into his room, emerging instantly with something concealed under his
+coat. Replying incoherently to his mother's inquiries, he fell down the
+stairs as far as the landing, used the impetus thus given as a help to
+greater speed for the rest of the descent--and passed out of hearing.
+
+Mrs. Baxter sighed, and went to a window in her own room, and looked
+out.
+
+William was already more than half-way to the next corner, where there
+was a car-line that ran to the station; but the distance was not too
+great for Mrs. Baxter to comprehend the nature of the symmetrical white
+parcel now carried in his right hand. Her face became pensive as she
+gazed after the flying slender figure:--there came to her mind the
+recollection of a seventeen-year-old boy who had brought a box of candy
+(a small one, like William's) to the station, once, long ago, when she
+had been visiting in another town. For just a moment she thought of that
+boy she had known, so many years ago, and a smile came vaguely upon her
+lips. She wondered what kind of a woman he had married, and how many
+children he had--and whether he was a widower----
+
+The fleeting recollection passed; she turned from the window and shook
+her head, puzzled.
+
+“Now where on earth could Jane and that little Kirsted girl have gone?”
+ she murmured.
+
+... At the station, William, descending from the street-car, found
+that he had six minutes to spare. Reassured of so much by the great
+clock in the station tower, he entered the building, and, with calm
+and dignified steps, crossed the large waiting-room. Those calm
+and dignified steps were taken by feet which little betrayed the
+tremulousness of the knees above them. Moreover, though William's
+face was red, his expression--cold, and concentrated upon high
+matters--scorned the stranger, and warned the lower classes that the
+mission of this bit of gentry was not to them.
+
+With but one sweeping and repellent glance over the canaille present,
+he made sure that the person he sought was not in the waiting-room.
+Therefore, he turned to the doors which gave admission to the tracks,
+but before he went out he paused for an instant of displeasure. Hard by
+the doors stood a telephone-booth, and from inside this booth a little
+girl of nine or ten was peering eagerly out at William, her eyes just
+above the lower level of the glass window in the door.
+
+Even a prospect thus curtailed revealed her as a smudged and dusty
+little girl; and, evidently, her mother must have been preoccupied with
+some important affair that day; but to William she suggested nothing
+familiar. As his glance happened to encounter hers, the peering
+eyes grew instantly brighter with excitement;--she exposed her whole
+countenance at the window, and impulsively made a face at him.
+
+William had not the slightest recollection of ever having seen her
+before.
+
+He gave her one stern look and went on; though he felt that something
+ought to be done. The affair was not a personal one--patently, this was
+a child who played about the station and amused herself by making faces
+at everybody who passed the telephone-booth--still, the authorities
+ought not to allow it. People did not come to the station to be
+insulted.
+
+Three seconds later the dusty-faced little girl and her moue were sped
+utterly from William's mind. For, as the doors swung together behind
+him, he saw Miss Pratt. There were no gates nor iron barriers to obscure
+the view; there was no train-shed to darken the air. She was at
+some distance, perhaps two hundred feet, along the tracks, where
+the sleeping-cars of the long train would stop. But there she stood,
+mistakable for no other on this wide earth!
+
+There she stood--a glowing little figure in the hazy September sunlight,
+her hair an amber mist under the adorable little hat; a small bunch
+of violets at her waist; a larger bunch of fragrant but less expensive
+sweet peas in her right hand; half a dozen pink roses in her left; her
+little dog Flopit in the crook of one arm; and a one-pound box of candy
+in the crook of the other--ineffable, radiant, starry, there she stood!
+
+Near her also stood her young hostess, and Wallace Banks, Johnnie
+Watson, and Joe Bullitt--three young gentlemen in a condition of
+solemn tensity. Miss Parcher saw William as he emerged from the
+station building, and she waved her parasol in greeting, attracting the
+attention of the others to him, so that they: all turned and stared.
+
+Seventeen sometimes finds it embarrassing (even in a state of deep
+emotion) to walk two hundred feet, or thereabout, toward a group of
+people who steadfastly watch the long approach. And when the watching
+group contains the lady of all the world before whom one wishes to
+appear most debonair, and contains not only her, but several rivals,
+who, though FAIRLY good-hearted, might hardly be trusted to neglect such
+an opportunity to murmur something jocular about one--No, it cannot be
+said that William appeared to be wholly without self-consciousness.
+
+In fancy he had prophesied for this moment something utterly different.
+He had seen himself parting from her, the two alone as within a cloud.
+He had seen himself gently placing his box of candy in her hands, some
+of his fingers just touching some of hers and remaining thus lightly in
+contact to the very last. He had seen himself bending toward the sweet
+blonde head to murmur the few last words of simple eloquence, while
+her eyes lifted in mysterious appeal to his--and he had put no other
+figures, not even Miss Parcher's, into this picture.
+
+Parting is the most dramatic moment in young love, and if there is one
+time when the lover wishes to present a lofty but graceful appearance it
+is at the last. To leave with the loved one, for recollection, a final
+picture of manly dignity in sorrow--that, above all things, is
+the lover's desire. And yet, even at the beginning of William's
+two-hundred-foot advance (later so much discussed) he felt the heat
+surging over his ears, and, as he took off his hat, thinking to wave it
+jauntily in reply to Miss Parcher, he made but an uncertain gesture of
+it, so that he wished he had not tried it. Moreover, he had covered less
+than a third of the distance, when he became aware that all of the
+group were staring at him with unaccountable eagerness, and had begun to
+laugh.
+
+William felt certain that his attire was in no way disordered, nor in
+itself a cause for laughter;--all of these people had often seen him
+dressed as he was to-day, and had preserved their gravity. But, in spite
+of himself, he took off his hat again, and looked to see if anything
+about it might explain this mirth, which, at his action, increased. Nay,
+the laughter began to be shared by strangers; and some set down their
+hand-luggage for greater pleasure in what they saw.
+
+William's inward state became chaotic.
+
+He tried to smile carelessly, to prove his composure, but he found that
+he had lost almost all control over his features. He had no knowledge
+of his actual expression except that it hurt him. In desperation he fell
+back upon hauteur; he managed to frown, and walked proudly. At that
+they laughed the more, Wallace Banks rudely pointing again and again at
+William; and not till the oncoming sufferer reached a spot within
+twenty feet of these delighted people did he grasp the significance of
+Wallace's repeated gesture of pointing. Even then he understood only
+when the gesture was supplemented by half-articulate shouts:
+
+“Behind you! Look BEHIND you!”
+
+The stung youth turned.
+
+There, directly behind him, he beheld an exclusive little procession
+consisting of two damsels in single file, the first soiled with
+house-moving, the second with apple sauce.
+
+For greater caution they had removed their shoes; and each damsel,
+as she paraded, dangled from each far-extended hand a shoe. And both
+damsels, whether beneath apple sauce or dust smudge, were suffused with
+the rapture of a great mockery.
+
+They were walking with their stummicks out o' joint.
+
+At sight of William's face they squealed. They turned and ran. They got
+themselves out of sight.
+
+Simultaneously, the air filled with solid thunder and the pompous train
+shook the ground. Ah, woe's the word! This was the thing that meant to
+bear away the golden girl and honeysuckle of the world--meant to, and
+would, not abating one iron second!
+
+Now a porter had her hand-bag.
+
+Dear Heaven! to be a porter--yes, a colored one! What of that, NOW? Just
+to be a simple porter, and journey with her to the far, strange pearl
+among cities whence she had come!
+
+The gentle porter bowed her toward the steps of his car; but first she
+gave Flopit into the hands of May Parcher, for a moment, and whispered
+a word to Wallace Banks; then to Joe Bullitt; then to Johnnie
+Watson;--then she ran to William.
+
+She took his hand.
+
+“Don't forget!” she whispered. “Don't forget Lola!”
+
+He stood stock-still. His face was blank, his hand limp. He said
+nothing.
+
+She enfolded May Parcher, kissed her devotedly; then, with Flopit once
+more under her arm, she ran and jumped upon the steps just as the train
+began to move. She stood there, on the lowest step, slowly gliding away
+from them, and in her eyes there was a sparkle of tears, left, it may
+be, from her laughter at poor William's pageant with Jane and Rannie
+Kirsted--or, it may be, not.
+
+She could not wave to her friends, in answer to their gestures of
+farewell, for her arms were too full of Flopit and roses and candy and
+sweet peas; but she kept nodding to them in a way that showed them how
+much she thanked them for being sorry she was going--and made it clear
+that she was sorry, too, and loved them all.
+
+“Good-by!” she meant.
+
+Faster she glided; the engine passed from sight round a curve beyond a
+culvert, but for a moment longer they could see the little figure upon
+the steps--and, to the very last glimpse they had of her, the small,
+golden head was still nodding “Good-by!” Then those steps whereon she
+stood passed in their turn beneath the culvert, and they saw her no
+more.
+
+Lola Pratt was gone!
+
+Wet-eyed, her young hostess of the long summer turned away, and stumbled
+against William. “Why, Willie Baxter!” she cried, blinking at him.
+
+The last car of the train had rounded the curve and disappeared, but
+William was still waving farewell--not with his handkerchief, but with
+a symmetrical, one-pound parcel, wrapped in white tissue-paper, girdled
+with blue ribbon.
+
+“Never mind!” said May Parcher. “Let's all walk Up-town together, and
+talk about her on the way, and we'll go by the express-office, and you
+can send your candy to her by express, Willie.”
+
+
+
+
+XXX
+
+THE BRIDE-TO-BE
+
+In the smallish house which all summer long, from morning until late
+at night, had resounded with the voices of young people, echoing their
+songs, murmurous with their theories of love, or vibrating with their
+glee, sometimes shaking all over during their more boisterous moods--in
+that house, now comparatively so vacant, the proprietor stood and
+breathed deep breaths.
+
+“Hah!” he said, inhaling and exhaling the air profoundly.
+
+His wife was upon the porch, outside, sewing. The silence was deep.
+He seemed to listen to it--to listen with gusto; his face slowly
+broadening, a pinkish tint overspreading it. His flaccid cheeks appeared
+to fill, to grow firm again, a smile finally widening them.
+
+“HAH!” he breathed, sonorously. He gave himself several resounding slaps
+upon the chest, then went out to the porch and sat in a rocking-chair
+near his wife. He spread himself out expansively. “My Glory!” he said.
+“I believe I'll take off my coat! I haven't had my coat off, outside of
+my own room, all summer. I believe I'll take a vacation! By George, I
+believe I'll stay home this afternoon!”
+
+“That's nice,” said Mrs. Parcher.
+
+“Hah!” he said. “My Glory! I believe I'll take off my shoes!”
+
+And, meeting no objection, he proceeded to carry out this plan.
+
+“Hah-AH!” he said, and placed his stockinged feet upon the railing,
+where a number of vines, running upon strings, made a screen between the
+porch and the street. He lit a large cigar. “Well, well!” he said. “That
+tastes good! If this keeps on, I'll be in as good shape as I was last
+spring before you know it!” Leaning far back in the rocking-chair, his
+hands behind his head, he smoked with fervor; but suddenly he jumped in
+a way which showed that his nerves were far from normal. His feet came
+to the floor with a thump, he jerked the cigar out of his mouth, and
+turned a face of consternation upon his wife.
+
+“What's the matter?”
+
+“Suppose,” said Mr. Patcher, huskily--“suppose she missed her train.”
+
+Mrs. Parcher shook her head.
+
+“Think not?” he said, brightening. “I ordered the livery-stable to have
+a carriage here in lots of time.”
+
+“They did,” said Mrs. Parcher, severely. “About five dollars' worth.”
+
+“Well, I don't mind that,” he returned, putting his feet up again.
+“After all, she was a mighty fine little girl in her way. The only
+trouble with me was that crowd of boys;--having to listen to them
+certainly liked to killed me, and I believe if she'd stayed just one
+more day I'd been a goner! Of all the dam boys I ever--” He paused,
+listening.
+
+“Mr. Parcher!” a youthful voice repeated.
+
+He rose, and, separating two of the vines which screened the end of the
+porch from the street, looked out. Two small maidens had paused upon the
+sidewalk, and were peering over the picket fence.
+
+“Mr. Parcher,” said Jane, as soon as his head appeared between the
+vines--“Mr. Parcher, Miss Pratt's gone. She's gone away on the cars.”
+
+“You think so?” he asked, gravely.
+
+“We saw her,” said Jane. “Rannie an' I were there. Willie was goin' to
+chase us, I guess, but we went in the baggage-room behind trunks, an'
+we saw her go. She got on the cars, an' it went with her in it. Honest,
+she's gone away, Mr. Parcher.”
+
+Before speaking, Mr. Parcher took a long look at this telepathic child.
+In his fond eyes she was a marvel and a darling.
+
+“Well--THANK you, Jane!” he said.
+
+Jane, however, had turned her head and was staring at the corner, which
+was out of his sight.
+
+“Oo-oo-ooh!” she murmured.
+
+“What's the trouble, Jane?”
+
+“Willie!” she said. “It's Willie an' that Joe Bullitt, an' Johnnie
+Watson, an' Mr. Wallace Banks. They're with Miss May Parcher. They're
+comin' right here!”
+
+Mr. Parcher gave forth a low moan, and turned pathetically to his wife,
+but she cheered him with a laugh.
+
+“They've only walked up from the station with May,” she said. “They
+won't come in. You'll see!”
+
+Relieved, Mr. Parcher turned again to speak to Jane--but she was not
+there. He caught but a glimpse of her, running up the street as fast as
+she could, hand in hand with her companion.
+
+“Run, Rannie, run!” panted Jane. “I got to get home an' tell mamma about
+it before Willie. I bet I ketch Hail Columbia, anyway, when he does get
+there!”
+
+And in this she was not mistaken: she caught Hail Columbia. It lasted
+all afternoon.
+
+It was still continuing after dinner. Thatt evening, when an
+oft-repeated yodel, followed by a shrill-wailed, “Jane-ee! Oh,
+Jane-NEE-ee!” brought her to an open window down-stairs. In the early
+dusk she looked out upon the washed face of Rannie Kirsted, who stood on
+the lawn below.
+
+“Come on out, Janie. Mamma says I can stay outdoors an' play till half
+past eight.”
+
+Jane shook her head. “I can't. I can't go outside the house till
+to-morrow. It's because we walked after Willie with our stummicks out o'
+joint.”
+
+“Pshaw!” Rannie cried, lightly. “My mother didn't do anything to me for
+that.”
+
+“Well, nobody told her on you,” said Jane, reasonably.
+
+“Can't you come out at all?” Rannie urged. “Go ask your mother. Tell
+her--”
+
+“How can I,” Jane inquired, with a little heat, “when she isn't here to
+ask? She's gone out to play cards--she and papa.”
+
+Rannie swung her foot. “Well,” she said, “I guess I haf to find SOMEp'n
+to do! G' night!”
+
+With head bowed in thought she moved away, disappearing into the gray
+dusk, while Jane, on her part, left the window and went to the open
+front door. Conscientiously, she did not cross the threshold, but
+restrained herself to looking out. On the steps of the porch sat
+William, alone, his back toward the house.
+
+“Willie?” said Jane, softly; and, as he made no response, she lifted her
+voice a little. “Will-ee!”
+
+“Whatchwant!” he grunted, not moving.
+
+“Willie, I told mamma I was sorry I made you feel so bad.”
+
+“All right!” he returned, curtly.
+
+“Well, when I haf to go to bed, Willie,” she said, “mamma told me
+because I made you feel bad I haf to go up-stairs by myself, to-night.”
+
+She paused, seeming to hope that he would say something, but he spake
+not.
+
+“Willie, I don't haf to go for a while yet, but when I do--maybe in
+about a half an hour--I wish you'd come stand at the foot of the stairs
+till I get up there. The light's lit up-stairs, but down around here
+it's kind of dark.”
+
+He did not answer.
+
+“Will you, Willie?”
+
+“Oh, all RIGHT!” he said.
+
+This contented her, and she seated herself so quietly upon the floor,
+just inside the door, that he ceased to be aware of her, thinking she
+had gone away. He sat staring vacantly into the darkness, which had come
+on with that abruptness which begins to be noticeable in September.
+His elbows were on his knees, and his body was sunk far forward in an
+attitude of desolation.
+
+The small noises of the town--that town so empty to-night--fell upon his
+ears mockingly. It seemed to him incredible that so hollow a town could
+go about its nightly affairs just as usual. A man and a woman, going
+by, laughed loudly at something the man had said: the sound of their
+laughter was horrid to William. And from a great distance from far out
+in the country--there came the faint, long-drawn whistle of an engine.
+
+That was the sorrowfulest sound of all to William. His lonely mind's
+eye sought the vasty spaces to the east; crossed prairie, and river, and
+hill, to where a long train whizzed onward through the dark--farther
+and farther and farther away. William uttered a sigh, so hoarse, so deep
+from the tombs, so prolonged, that Jane, who had been relaxing herself
+at full length upon the floor, sat up straight with a jerk.
+
+But she was wise enough not to speak.
+
+Now the full moon came masquerading among the branches of the
+shade-trees; it came in the likeness of an enormous football, gloriously
+orange. Gorgeously it rose higher, cleared the trees, and resumed its
+wonted impersonation of a silver disk. Here was another mockery: What
+was the use of a moon NOW?
+
+Its use appeared straightway.
+
+In direct coincidence with that rising moon, there came from a little
+distance down the street the sound of a young male voice, singing.
+It was not a musical voice, yet sufficiently loud; and it knew only a
+portion of the words and air it sought to render, but, upon completing
+the portion it did know, it instantly began again, and sang that portion
+over and over with brightest patience. So the voice approached the
+residence of the Baxter family, singing what the shades of night gave
+courage to sing--instead of whistle, as in the abashing sunlight.
+
+Thus:
+
+“My countree, 'tis of thee, Sweet land of liber-tee, My countree, 'tis
+of thee, Sweet land of liber-tee, My countree, 'tis of thee, Sweet land
+of liber-tee, My countree, 'tis of thee, Sweet land of liber-tee, My
+countree, 'tis--”
+
+
+Jane spoke unconsciously. “It's Freddie,” she said.
+
+William leaped to his feet; this was something he could NOT bear! He
+made a bloodthirsty dash toward the gate, which the singer was just in
+the act of passing.
+
+“You GET OUT O' HERE!” William roared.
+
+The song stopped. Freddie Banks fled like a rag on the wind.
+
+
+... Now here is a strange matter.
+
+The antique prophets prophesied successfully; they practised with some
+ease that art since lost but partly rediscovered by M. Maeterlinck, who
+proves to us that the future already exists, simultaneously with the
+present. Well, if his proofs be true, then at this very moment when
+William thought menacingly of Freddie Banks, the bright air of a happy
+June evening--an evening ordinarily reckoned ten years, nine months and
+twenty-one days in advance of this present sorrowful evening--the bright
+air of that happy June evening, so far in the future, was actually
+already trembling to a wedding-march played upon a church organ; and
+this selfsame Freddie, with a white flower in his buttonhole, and in
+every detail accoutred as a wedding usher, was an usher for this very
+William who now (as we ordinarily count time) threatened his person.
+
+But for more miracles:
+
+As William turned again to resume his meditations upon the steps, his
+incredulous eyes fell upon a performance amazingly beyond fantasy, and
+without parallel as a means to make scorn of him. Not ten feet from the
+porch--and in the white moonlight that made brilliant the path to the
+gate--Miss Mary Randolph Kirsted was walking. She was walking with
+insulting pomposity in her most pronounced semicircular manner.
+
+“YOU GET OUT O' HERE!” she said, in a voice as deep and hoarse as she
+could make it. “YOU GET OUT O' HERE!”
+
+Her intention was as plain as the moon. She was presenting in her own
+person a sketch of William, by this means expressing her opinion of him
+and avenging Jane.
+
+“YOU GET OUT O' HERE!” she croaked.
+
+The shocking audacity took William's breath. He gasped; he sought for
+words.
+
+“Why, you--you--” he cried. “You--you sooty-faced little girl!”
+
+In this fashion he directly addressed Miss Mary Randolph Kirsted for the
+first time in his life.
+
+And that was the strangest thing of this strange evening. Strangest
+because, as with life itself, there was nothing remarkable upon the
+surface of it. But if M. Maeterlinck has the right of the matter, and
+if the bright air of that June evening, almost eleven years in the
+so-called future, was indeed already trembling to “Lohengrin,” then
+William stood with Johnnie Watson against a great bank of flowers at the
+foot of a church aisle; that aisle was roped with white-satin ribbons;
+and William and Johnnie were waiting for something important to happen.
+And then, to the strains of “Here Comes the Bride,” it did--a stately,
+solemn, roseate, gentle young thing with bright eyes seeking through a
+veil for William's eyes.
+
+Yes, if great M. Maeterlinck is right, it seems that William ought to
+have caught at least some eerie echo of that wedding-march, however
+faint--some bars or strains adrift before their time upon the moonlight
+of this September night in his eighteenth year.
+
+For there, beyond the possibility of any fate to intervene, or of any
+later vague, fragmentary memory of even Miss Pratt to impair, there in
+that moonlight was his future before him.
+
+He started forward furiously. “You--you--you little--”
+
+But he paused, not wasting his breath upon the empty air.
+
+His bride-to-be was gone.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Seventeen, by Booth Tarkington
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+
+<!DOCTYPE html
+   PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
+   "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" >
+
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en">
+  <head>
+    <title>
+      Seventeen, by Booth Tarkington
+    </title>
+    <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve">
+
+    body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify}
+    P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; }
+    H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; }
+    hr  { width: 50%; text-align: center;}
+    .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; }
+    blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;}
+    .mynote    {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;}
+    .toc       { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;}
+    .toc2      { margin-left: 20%;}
+    div.fig    { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; }
+    div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; }
+    .figleft   {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;}
+    .figright  {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;}
+    .pagenum   {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal;
+               margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%;
+               text-align: right;}
+    pre        { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;}
+
+</style>
+  </head>
+  <body>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Seventeen, by Booth Tarkington
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Seventeen
+       A Tale Of Youth And Summer Time And The Baxter Family Especially William
+
+Author: Booth Tarkington
+
+Release Date: February 21, 2006 [EBook #1611]
+Last Updated: March 3, 2018
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SEVENTEEN ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Charles Keller and David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <h1>
+      SEVENTEEN
+    </h1>
+    <h4>
+      A Tale Of Youth And Summer Time And The Baxter Family Especially William
+    </h4>
+    <h2>
+      By Booth Tarkington
+    </h2>
+    <h4>
+      TO S.K.T.
+    </h4>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <blockquote>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big>
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        <br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> <big><b>SEVENTEEN</b></big> </a><br />
+        <br /> <br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> I </a><br /> <a
+        href="#link2H_4_0005"> II </a><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> III </a><br />
+        <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> IV </a><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> V </a><br />
+        <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> VI </a><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> VII
+        </a><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> VIII </a><br /> <a
+        href="#link2H_4_0012"> IX </a><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> X </a><br />
+        <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> XI </a><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> XII
+        </a><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0016"> XIII </a><br /> <a
+        href="#link2H_4_0017"> XIV </a><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0018"> XV </a><br />
+        <a href="#link2H_4_0019"> XVI </a><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0020"> XVII
+        </a><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0021"> XVIII </a><br /> <a
+        href="#link2H_4_0022"> XIX </a><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0023"> XX </a><br />
+        <a href="#link2H_4_0024"> XXI </a><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0025"> XXII
+        </a><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0026"> XXIII </a><br /> <a
+        href="#link2H_4_0027"> XXIV </a><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0028"> XXV </a><br />
+        <a href="#link2H_4_0029"> XXVI </a><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0030"> XXVII
+        </a><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0031"> XXVIII&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </a><br />
+        <a href="#link2H_4_0032"> XXIX </a><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0033"> XXX
+        </a><br />
+      </p>
+    </blockquote>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      SEVENTEEN
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      I
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      WILLIAM
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      William Sylvanus Baxter paused for a moment of thought in front of the
+      drug-store at the corner of Washington Street and Central Avenue. He had
+      an internal question to settle before he entered the store: he wished to
+      allow the young man at the soda-fountain no excuse for saying, &ldquo;Well, make
+      up your mind what it's goin' to be, can't you?&rdquo; Rudeness of this kind,
+      especially in the presence of girls and women, was hard to bear, and
+      though William Sylvanus Baxter had borne it upon occasion, he had reached
+      an age when he found it intolerable. Therefore, to avoid offering
+      opportunity for anything of the kind, he decided upon chocolate and
+      strawberry, mixed, before approaching the fountain. Once there, however,
+      and a large glass of these flavors and diluted ice-cream proving merely
+      provocative, he said, languidly&mdash;an affectation, for he could have
+      disposed of half a dozen with gusto: &ldquo;Well, now I'm here, I might as well
+      go one more. Fill 'er up again. Same.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emerging to the street, penniless, he bent a fascinated and dramatic gaze
+      upon his reflection in the drug-store window, and then, as he turned his
+      back upon the alluring image, his expression altered to one of lofty and
+      uncondescending amusement. That was his glance at the passing public. From
+      the heights, he seemed to bestow upon the world a mysterious derision&mdash;for
+      William Sylvanus Baxter was seventeen long years of age, and had learned
+      to present the appearance of one who possesses inside information about
+      life and knows all strangers and most acquaintances to be of inferior
+      caste, costume, and intelligence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He lingered upon the corner awhile, not pressed for time. Indeed, he found
+      many hours of these summer months heavy upon his hands, for he had no
+      important occupation, unless some intermittent dalliance with a work on
+      geometry (anticipatory of the distant autumn) might be thought important,
+      which is doubtful, since he usually went to sleep on the shady side porch
+      at his home, with the book in his hand. So, having nothing to call him
+      elsewhere, he lounged before the drug-store in the early afternoon
+      sunshine, watching the passing to and fro of the lower orders and
+      bourgeoisie of the middle-sized midland city which claimed him (so to
+      speak) for a native son.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Apparently quite unembarrassed by his presence, they went about their
+      business, and the only people who looked at him with any attention were
+      pedestrians of color. It is true that when the gaze of these fell upon him
+      it was instantly arrested, for no colored person could have passed him
+      without a little pang of pleasure and of longing. Indeed, the tropical
+      violence of William Sylvanus Baxter's tie and the strange brilliancy of
+      his hat might have made it positively unsafe for him to walk at night
+      through the negro quarter of the town. And though no man could have sworn
+      to the color of that hat, whether it was blue or green, yet its color was
+      a saner thing than its shape, which was blurred, tortured, and raffish; it
+      might have been the miniature model of a volcano that had blown off its
+      cone and misbehaved disastrously on its lower slopes as well. He had the
+      air of wearing it as a matter of course and with careless ease, but that
+      was only an air&mdash;it was the apple of his eye.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For the rest, his costume was neutral, subordinate, and even a little
+      neglected in the matter of a detail or two: one pointed flap of his soft
+      collar was held down by a button, but the other showed a frayed thread
+      where the button once had been; his low patent-leather shoes were of a
+      luster not solicitously cherished, and there could be no doubt that he
+      needed to get his hair cut, while something might have been done, too,
+      about the individualized hirsute prophecies which had made independent
+      appearances, here and there, upon his chin. He examined these from time to
+      time by the sense of touch, passing his hand across his face and allowing
+      his finger-tips a slight tapping motion wherever they detected a prophecy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thus he fell into a pleasant musing and seemed to forget the crowded
+      street.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      II
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      THE UNKNOWN
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      He was roused by the bluff greeting of an acquaintance not dissimilar to
+      himself in age, manner, and apparel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;H'lo, Silly Bill!&rdquo; said this person, halting beside William Sylvanus
+Baxter. &ldquo;What's the news?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      William showed no enthusiasm; on the contrary, a frown of annoyance
+      appeared upon his brow. The nickname &ldquo;Silly Bill&rdquo;&mdash;long ago
+      compounded by merry child-comrades from &ldquo;William&rdquo; and &ldquo;Sylvanus&rdquo;&mdash;was
+      not to his taste, especially in public, where he preferred to be addressed
+      simply and manfully as &ldquo;Baxter.&rdquo; Any direct expression of resentment,
+      however, was difficult, since it was plain that Johnnie Watson intended no
+      offense whatever and but spoke out of custom.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't know any,&rdquo; William replied, coldly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dull times, ain't it?&rdquo; said Mr. Watson, a little depressed by his
+      friend's manner. &ldquo;I heard May Parcher was comin' back to town yesterday,
+      though.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, let her!&rdquo; returned William, still severe.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They said she was goin' to bring a girl to visit her,&rdquo; Johnnie began in a
+      confidential tone. &ldquo;They said she was a reg'lar ringdinger and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, what if she is?&rdquo; the discouraging Mr. Baxter interrupted. &ldquo;Makes
+      little difference to ME, I guess!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh no, it don't. YOU don't take any interest in girls! OH no!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I do not!&rdquo; was the emphatic and heartless retort. &ldquo;I never saw one in
+      my life I'd care whether she lived or died!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Honest?&rdquo; asked Johnnie, struck by the conviction with which this speech
+      was uttered. &ldquo;Honest, is that so?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, 'honest'!&rdquo; William replied, sharply. &ldquo;They could ALL die, <i>I</i>
+      wouldn't notice!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Johnnie Watson was profoundly impressed. &ldquo;Why, <i>I</i> didn't know you
+      felt that way about 'em, Silly Bill. I always thought you were kind of&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I do feel that way about 'em!&rdquo; said William Sylvanus Baxter, and,
+      outraged by the repetition of the offensive nickname, he began to move
+      away. &ldquo;You can tell 'em so for me, if you want to!&rdquo; he added over his
+      shoulder. And he walked haughtily up the street, leaving Mr. Watson to
+      ponder upon this case of misogyny, never until that moment suspected.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was beyond the power of his mind to grasp the fact that William
+      Sylvanus Baxter's cruel words about &ldquo;girls&rdquo; had been uttered because
+      William was annoyed at being called &ldquo;Silly Bill&rdquo; in a public place, and
+      had not known how to object otherwise than by showing contempt for any
+      topic of conversation proposed by the offender. This latter, being of a
+      disposition to accept statements as facts, was warmly interested, instead
+      of being hurt, and decided that here was something worth talking about,
+      especially with representatives of the class so sweepingly excluded from
+      the sympathies of Silly Bill.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      William, meanwhile, made his way toward the &ldquo;residence section&rdquo; of the
+      town, and presently&mdash;with the passage of time found himself eased of
+      his annoyance. He walked in his own manner, using his shoulders to
+      emphasize an effect of carelessness which he wished to produce upon
+      observers. For his consciousness of observers was abnormal, since he had
+      it whether any one was looking at him or not, and it reached a crucial
+      stage whenever he perceived persons of his own age, but of opposite sex,
+      approaching.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A person of this description was encountered upon the sidewalk within a
+      hundred yards of his own home, and William Sylvanus Baxter saw her while
+      yet she was afar off. The quiet and shady thoroughfare was empty of all
+      human life, at the time, save for those two; and she was upon the same
+      side of the street that he was; thus it became inevitable that they should
+      meet, face to face, for the first time in their lives. He had perceived,
+      even in the distance, that she was unknown to him, a stranger, because he
+      knew all the girls in this part of the town who dressed as famously in the
+      mode as that! And then, as the distance between them lessened, he saw that
+      she was ravishingly pretty; far, far prettier, indeed, than any girl he
+      knew. At least it seemed so, for it is, unfortunately, much easier for
+      strangers to be beautiful. Aside from this advantage of mystery, the
+      approaching vision was piquant and graceful enough to have reminded a much
+      older boy of a spotless white kitten, for, in spite of a charmingly
+      managed demureness, there was precisely that kind of playfulness somewhere
+      expressed about her. Just now it was most definite in the look she bent
+      upon the light and fluffy burden which she carried nestled in the inner
+      curve of her right arm: a tiny dog with hair like cotton and a pink ribbon
+      round his neck&mdash;an animal sated with indulgence and idiotically
+      unaware of his privilege. He was half asleep!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      William did not see the dog, or it is the plain, anatomical truth that
+      when he saw how pretty the girl was, his heart&mdash;his physical heart&mdash;began
+      to do things the like of which, experienced by an elderly person, would
+      have brought the doctor in haste. In addition, his complexion altered&mdash;he
+      broke out in fiery patches. He suffered from breathlessness and from
+      pressure on the diaphragm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Afterward, he could not have named the color of the little parasol she
+      carried in her left hand, and yet, as it drew nearer and nearer, a rosy
+      haze suffused the neighborhood, and the whole world began to turn an
+      exquisite pink. Beneath this gentle glow, with eyes downcast in thought,
+      she apparently took no note of William, even when she and William had come
+      within a few yards of each other. Yet he knew that she would look up and
+      that their eyes must meet&mdash;a thing for which he endeavored to prepare
+      himself by a strange weaving motion of his neck against the friction of
+      his collar&mdash;for thus, instinctively, he strove to obtain greater ease
+      and some decent appearance of manly indifference. He felt that his efforts
+      were a failure; that his agitation was ruinous and must be perceptible at
+      a distance of miles, not feet. And then, in the instant of panic that
+      befell, when her dark-lashed eyelids slowly lifted, he had a flash of
+      inspiration.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He opened his mouth somewhat, and as her eyes met his, full and
+      startlingly, he placed three fingers across the orifice, and also offered
+      a slight vocal proof that she had surprised him in the midst of a yawn.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, hum!&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For the fraction of a second, the deep blue spark in her eyes glowed
+      brighter&mdash;gentle arrows of turquoise shot him through and through&mdash;and
+      then her glance withdrew from the ineffable collision. Her small,
+      white-shod feet continued to bear her onward, away from him, while his own
+      dimmed shoes peregrinated in the opposite direction&mdash;William
+      necessarily, yet with excruciating reluctance, accompanying them. But just
+      at the moment when he and the lovely creature were side by side, and her
+      head turned from him, she spoke that is, she murmured, but he caught the
+      words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You Flopit, wake up!&rdquo; she said, in the tone of a mother talking
+      baby-talk. &ldquo;SO indifferink!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      William's feet and his breath halted spasmodically. For an instant he
+      thought she had spoken to him, and then for the first time he perceived
+      the fluffy head of the dog bobbing languidly over her arm, with the motion
+      of her walking, and he comprehended that Flopit, and not William Sylvanus
+      Baxter, was the gentleman addressed. But&mdash;but had she MEANT him?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His breath returning, though not yet operating in its usual manner, he
+      stood gazing after her, while the glamorous parasol passed down the shady
+      street, catching splashes of sunshine through the branches of the
+      maple-trees; and the cottony head of the tiny dog continued to be visible,
+      bobbing rhythmically over a filmy sleeve. Had she meant that William was
+      indifferent? Was it William that she really addressed?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He took two steps to follow her, but a suffocating shyness stopped him
+      abruptly and, in a horror lest she should glance round and detect him in
+      the act, he turned and strode fiercely to the gate of his own home before
+      he dared to look again. And when he did look, affecting great casualness
+      in the action, she was gone, evidently having turned the corner. Yet the
+      street did not seem quite empty; there was still something warm and
+      fragrant about it, and a rosy glamor lingered in the air. William rested
+      an elbow upon the gate-post, and with his chin reposing in his hand gazed
+      long in the direction in which the unknown had vanished. And his soul was
+      tremulous, for she had done her work but too well.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Indifferink'!&rdquo; he murmured, thrilling at his own exceedingly indifferent
+      imitation of her voice. &ldquo;Indifferink!&rdquo; that was just what he would have
+      her think&mdash;that he was a cold, indifferent man. It was what he wished
+      all girls to think. And &ldquo;sarcastic&rdquo;! He had been envious one day when May
+      Parcher said that Joe Bullitt was &ldquo;awfully sarcastic.&rdquo; William had spent
+      the ensuing hour in an object-lesson intended to make Miss Parcher see
+      that William Sylvanus Baxter was twice as sarcastic as Joe Bullitt ever
+      thought of being, but this great effort had been unsuccessful, because
+      William, failed to understand that Miss Parcher had only been sending a
+      sort of message to Mr. Bullitt. It was a device not unique among her sex;
+      her hope was that William would repeat her remark in such a manner that
+      Joe Bullitt would hear it and call to inquire what she meant.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'SO indifferink'!&rdquo; murmured William, leaning dreamily upon the gate-post.
+      &ldquo;Indifferink!&rdquo; He tried to get the exact cooing quality of the unknown's
+      voice. &ldquo;Indifferink!&rdquo; And, repeating the honeyed word, so entrancingly
+      distorted, he fell into a kind of stupor; vague, beautiful pictures rising
+      before him, the one least blurred being of himself, on horseback, sweeping
+      between Flopit and a racing automobile. And then, having restored the
+      little animal to its mistress, William sat carelessly in the saddle (he
+      had the Guardsman's seat) while the perfectly trained steed wheeled about,
+      forelegs in the air, preparing to go. &ldquo;But shall I not see you again, to
+      thank you more properly?&rdquo; she cried, pleading. &ldquo;Some other day&mdash;perhaps,&rdquo;
+       he answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And left her in a cloud of dust.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      III
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      THE PAINFUL AGE
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;OH WILL&mdash;EE!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thus a shrill voice, to his ears hideously different from that other,
+      interrupted and dispersed his visions. Little Jane, his ten-year-old
+      sister, stood upon the front porch, the door open behind her, and in her
+      hand she held a large slab of bread-and-butter covered with apple sauce
+      and powdered sugar. Evidence that she had sampled this compound was upon
+      her cheeks, and to her brother she was a repulsive sight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will-ee!&rdquo; she shrilled. &ldquo;Look! GOOD!&rdquo; And to emphasize the adjective she
+      indelicately patted the region of her body in which she believed her
+      stomach to be located. &ldquo;There's a slice for you on the dining-room table,&rdquo;
+       she informed him, joyously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Outraged, he entered the house without a word to her, and, proceeding to
+      the dining-room, laid hands upon the slice she had mentioned, but declined
+      to eat it in Jane's company. He was in an exalted mood, and though in no
+      condition of mind or body would he refuse food of almost any kind, Jane
+      was an intrusion he could not suffer at this time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He carried the refection to his own room and, locking the door, sat down
+      to eat, while, even as he ate, the spell that was upon him deepened in
+      intensity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, eyes!&rdquo; he whispered, softly, in that cool privacy and shelter from
+      the world. &ldquo;Oh, eyes of blue!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The mirror of a dressing-table sent him the reflection of his own eyes,
+      which also were blue; and he gazed upon them and upon the rest of his
+      image the while he ate his bread-and-butter and apple sauce and sugar.
+      Thus, watching himself eat, he continued to stare dreamily at the mirror
+      until the bread-and-butter and apple sauce and sugar had disappeared,
+      whereupon he rose and approached the dressing-table to study himself at
+      greater advantage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He assumed as repulsive an expression as he could command, at the same
+      time making the kingly gesture of one who repels unwelcome attentions; and
+      it is beyond doubt that he was thus acting a little scene of indifference.
+      Other symbolic dramas followed, though an invisible observer might have
+      been puzzled for a key to some of them. One, however, would have proved
+      easily intelligible: his expression having altered to a look of pity and
+      contrition, he turned from the mirror, and, walking slowly to a chair
+      across the room, used his right hand in a peculiar manner, seeming to
+      stroke the air at a point about ten inches above the back of the chair.
+      &ldquo;There, there, little girl,&rdquo; he said in a low, gentle voice. &ldquo;I didn't
+      know you cared!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then, with a rather abrupt dismissal of this theme, he returned to the
+      mirror and, after a questioning scrutiny, nodded solemnly, forming with
+      his lips the words, &ldquo;The real thing&mdash;the real thing at last!&rdquo; He
+      meant that, after many imitations had imposed upon him, Love&mdash;the
+      real thing&mdash;had come to him in the end. And as he turned away he
+      murmured, &ldquo;And even her name&mdash;unknown!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This evidently was a thought that continued to occupy him, for he walked
+      up and down the room, frowning; but suddenly his brow cleared and his eye
+      lit with purpose. Seating himself at a small writing-table by the window,
+      he proceeded to express his personality&mdash;though with considerable
+      labor&mdash;in something which he did not doubt to be a poem.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Three-quarters of an hour having sufficed for its completion, including
+      &ldquo;rewriting and polish,&rdquo; he solemnly signed it, and then read it several
+      times in a state of hushed astonishment. He had never dreamed that he
+      could do anything like this.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+                    MILADY
+          I do not know her name
+          Though it would be the same
+          Where roses bloom at twilight
+          And the lark takes his flight
+          It would be the same anywhere
+          Where music sounds in air
+          I was never introduced to the lady
+          So I could not call her Lass or Sadie
+          So I will call her Milady
+          By the sands of the sea
+          She always will be
+          Just M'lady to me.
+                         &mdash;WILLIAM SYLVANUS BAXTER, Esq., July 14
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      It is impossible to say how many times he might have read the poem over,
+      always with increasing amazement at his new-found powers, had he not been
+      interrupted by the odious voice of Jane.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will&mdash;ee!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      To William, in his high and lonely mood, this piercing summons brought an
+      actual shudder, and the very thought of Jane (with tokens of apple sauce
+      and sugar still upon her cheek, probably) seemed a kind of sacrilege. He
+      fiercely swore his favorite oath, acquired from the hero of a work of
+      fiction he admired, &ldquo;Ye gods!&rdquo; and concealed his poem in the drawer of the
+      writing-table, for Jane's footsteps were approaching his door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will&mdash;ee! Mamma wants you.&rdquo; She tried the handle of the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;G'way!&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will&mdash;ee!&rdquo; Jane hammered upon the door with her fist. &ldquo;Will&mdash;ee!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What you want?&rdquo; he shouted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane explained, certain pauses indicating that her attention was partially
+      diverted to another slice of bread-and-butter and apple sauce and sugar.
+      &ldquo;Will&mdash;ee, mamma wants you&mdash;wants you to go help Genesis bring
+      some wash-tubs home and a tin clo'es-boiler&mdash;from the second-hand
+      man's store.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;WHAT!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane repeated the outrageous message, adding, &ldquo;She wants you to hurry&mdash;and
+      I got some more bread-and-butter and apple sauce and sugar for comin' to
+      tell you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      William left no doubt in Jane's mind about his attitude in reference to
+      the whole matter. His refusal was direct and infuriated, but, in the midst
+      of a multitude of plain statements which he was making, there was a
+      decisive tapping upon the door at a point higher than Jane could reach,
+      and his mother's voice interrupted:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hush, Willie! Open the door, please.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He obeyed furiously, and Mrs. Baxter walked in with a deprecating air,
+      while Jane followed, so profoundly interested that, until almost the close
+      of the interview, she held her bread-and-butter and apple sauce and sugar
+      at a sort of way-station on its journey to her mouth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's a nice thing to ask me to do!&rdquo; stormed the unfortunate William.
+      &ldquo;Ye gods! Do you think Joe Bullitt's mother would dare to&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wait, dearie!&rdquo; Mrs. Baxter begged, pacifically. &ldquo;I just want to explain&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Explain'! Ye gods!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, now, just a minute, Willie!&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;What I wanted to explain was
+      why it's necessary for you to go with Genesis for the&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never!&rdquo; he shouted. &ldquo;Never! You expect me to walk through the public
+      streets with that awful-lookin' old nigger&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Genesis isn't old,&rdquo; she managed to interpolate. &ldquo;He&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But her frantic son disregarded her. &ldquo;Second-hand wash-tubs!&rdquo; he
+      vociferated. &ldquo;And tin clothes-boilers! THAT'S what you want your SON to
+      carry through the public streets in broad daylight! Ye gods!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, there isn't anybody else,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Please don't rave so, Willie,
+      and say 'Ye gods' so much; it really isn't nice. I'm sure nobody 'll
+      notice you&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Nobody'!&rdquo; His voice cracked in anguish. &ldquo;Oh no! Nobody except the whole
+      town! WHY, when there's anything disgusting has to be done in this family&mdash;why
+      do <i>I</i> always have to be the one? Why can't Genesis bring the
+      second-hand wash-tubs without ME? Why can't the second-hand store deliver
+      'em? Why can't&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's what I want to tell you,&rdquo; she interposed, hurriedly, and as the
+      youth lifted his arms on high in a gesture of ultimate despair, and then
+      threw himself miserably into a chair, she obtained the floor. &ldquo;The
+      second-hand store doesn't deliver things,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I bought them at an
+      auction, and it's going out of business, and they have to be taken away
+      before half past four this afternoon. Genesis can't bring them in the
+      wheelbarrow, because, he says, the wheel is broken, and he says he can't
+      possibly carry two tubs and a wash-boiler himself; and he can't make two
+      trips because it's a mile and a half, and I don't like to ask him, anyway;
+      and it would take too long, because he has to get back and finish cutting
+      the grass before your papa gets home this evening. Papa said he HAD to!
+      Now, I don't like to ask you, but it really isn't much. You and Genesis
+      can just slip up there and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Slip!&rdquo; moaned William. &ldquo;'Just SLIP up there'! Ye gods!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Genesis is waiting on the back porch,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Really it isn't worth
+      your making all this fuss about.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh no!&rdquo; he returned, with plaintive satire. &ldquo;It's nothing! Nothing at
+      all!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, <i>I</i> shouldn't mind it,&rdquo; she said; briskly, &ldquo;if I had the time.
+      In fact, I'll have to, if you won't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ye gods!&rdquo; He clasped his head in his hands, crushed, for he knew that the
+      curse was upon him and he must go. &ldquo;Ye gods!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And then, as he stamped to the door, his tragic eye fell upon Jane, and he
+      emitted a final cry of pain:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can't you EVER wash your face?&rdquo; he shouted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      IV
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      GENESIS AND CLEMATIS
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      Genesis and his dog were waiting just outside the kitchen door, and of all
+      the world these two creatures were probably the last in whose company
+      William Sylvanus Baxter desired to make a public appearance. Genesis was
+      an out-of-doors man and seldom made much of a toilet; his overalls in
+      particular betraying at important points a lack of the anxiety he should
+      have felt, since only Genesis himself, instead of a supplementary fabric,
+      was directly underneath them. And the aged, grayish, sleeveless and
+      neckless garment which sheltered him from waist to collar-bone could not
+      have been mistaken for a jersey, even though what there was of it was
+      dimly of a jerseyesque character. Upon the feet of Genesis were things
+      which careful study would have revealed to be patent-leather
+      dancing-pumps, long dead and several times buried; and upon his head,
+      pressing down his markedly criminal ears, was a once-derby hat of a brown
+      not far from Genesis's own color, though decidedly without his gloss. A
+      large ring of strange metals with the stone missing, adorned a finger of
+      his right hand, and from a corner of his mouth projected an unlighted and
+      spreading cigar stub which had the appearance of belonging to its present
+      owner merely by right of salvage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And Genesis's dog, scratching himself at his master's feet, was the true
+      complement of Genesis, for although he was a youngish dog, and had not
+      long been the property of Genesis, he was a dog that would have been
+      recognized anywhere in the world as a colored person's dog. He was not a
+      special breed of dog&mdash;though there was something rather houndlike
+      about him&mdash;he was just a dog. His expression was grateful but
+      anxious, and he was unusually bald upon the bosom, but otherwise whitish
+      and brownish, with a gaunt, haunting face and no power to look anybody in
+      the eye.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He rose apprehensively as the fuming William came out of the kitchen, but
+      he was prepared to follow his master faithfully, and when William and
+      Genesis reached the street the dog was discovered at their heels,
+      whereupon William came to a decisive halt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Send that dog back,&rdquo; he said, resolutely. &ldquo;I'm not going through the
+      streets with a dog like that, anyhow!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Genesis chuckled. &ldquo;He ain' goin' back,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;'Ain' nobody kin make
+      'at dog go back. I 'ain' had him mo'n two weeks, but I don' b'lieve
+      Pres'dent United States kin make 'at dog go back! I show you.&rdquo; And,
+      wheeling suddenly, he made ferocious gestures, shouting. &ldquo;G'on back, dog!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The dog turned, ran back a few paces, halted, and then began to follow
+      again, whereupon Genesis pretended to hurl stones at him; but the animal
+      only repeated his manoeuver&mdash;and he repeated it once more when
+      William aided Genesis by using actual missiles, which were dodged with
+      almost careless adeptness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll show him!&rdquo; said William, hotly. &ldquo;I'll show him he can't follow ME!&rdquo;
+       He charged upon the dog, shouting fiercely, and this seemed to do the
+      work, for the hunted animal, abandoning his partial flights, turned a
+      tucked-under tail, ran all the way back to the alley, and disappeared from
+      sight. &ldquo;There!&rdquo; said William. &ldquo;I guess that 'll show him!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I ain' bettin' on it!&rdquo; said Genesis, as they went on. &ldquo;He nev' did stop
+      foll'in' me yet. I reckon he the foll'indest dog in the worl'! Name Clem.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, he can't follow ME!&rdquo; said the surging William, in whose mind's eye
+      lingered the vision of an exquisite doglet, with pink-ribboned throat and
+      a cottony head bobbing gently over a filmy sleeve. &ldquo;He doesn't come within
+      a mile of ME, no matter what his name is!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Name Clem fer short,&rdquo; said Genesis, amiably. &ldquo;I trade in a mandoline fer
+      him what had her neck kind o' busted off on one side. I couldn' play her
+      nohow, an' I found her, anyways. Yes-suh, I trade in 'at mandoline fer him
+      'cause always did like to have me a good dog&mdash;but I d'in' have me no
+      name fer him; an' this here Blooie Bowers, what I trade in the mandoline
+      to, he say HE d'in have no name fer him. Say nev' did know if WAS a name
+      fer him 'tall. So I'z spen' the evenin' at 'at lady's house, Fanny, what
+      used to be cook fer Miz Johnson, nex' do' you' maw's; an' I ast Fanny what
+      am I go'n' a do about it, an' Fanny say, 'Call him Clematis,' she say.
+      ''At's a nice name!' she say. 'Clematis.' So 'at's name I name him,
+      Clematis. Call him Clem fer short, but Clematis his real name. He'll come,
+      whichever one you call him, Clem or Clematis. Make no diff'ence to him,
+      long's he git his vittles. Clem or Clematis, HE ain' carin'!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      William's ear was deaf to this account of the naming of Clematis; he
+      walked haughtily, but as rapidly as possible, trying to keep a little in
+      advance of his talkative companion, who had never received the training as
+      a servitor which should have taught him his proper distance from the Young
+      Master. William's suffering eyes were fixed upon remoteness; and his lips
+      moved, now and then, like a martyr's, pronouncing inaudibly a sacred word.
+      &ldquo;Milady! Oh, Milady!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thus they had covered some three blocks of their journey&mdash;the
+      too-democratic Genesis chatting companionably and William burning with
+      mortification&mdash;when the former broke into loud laughter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What I tell you?&rdquo; he cried, pointing ahead. &ldquo;Look ayonnuh! NO, suh,
+      Pres'dent United States hisse'f ain' go tell 'at dog stay home!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And there, at the corner before them, waited Clematis, roguishly lying in
+      a mud-puddle in the gutter. He had run through alleys parallel to their
+      course&mdash;and in the face of such demoniac cunning the wretched William
+      despaired of evading his society. Indeed, there was nothing to do but to
+      give up, and so the trio proceeded, with William unable to decide which
+      contaminated him more, Genesis or the loyal Clematis. To his way of
+      thinking, he was part of a dreadful pageant, and he winced pitiably
+      whenever the eye of a respectable passer-by fell upon him. Everybody
+      seemed to stare&mdash;nay, to leer! And he felt that the whole world would
+      know his shame by nightfall.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nobody, he reflected, seeing him in such company, could believe that he
+      belonged to &ldquo;one of the oldest and best families in town.&rdquo; Nobody would
+      understand that he was not walking with Genesis for the pleasure of his
+      companionship&mdash;until they got the tubs and the wash-boiler, when his
+      social condition must be thought even more degraded. And nobody, he was
+      shudderingly positive, could see that Clematis was not his dog (Clematis
+      kept himself humbly a little in the rear, but how was any observer to know
+      that he belonged to Genesis and not to William?)
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And how frightful that THIS should befall him on such a day, the very day
+      that his soul had been split asunder by the turquoise shafts of Milady's
+      eyes and he had learned to know the Real Thing at last!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Milady! Oh, Milady!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For in the elder teens adolescence may be completed, but not by
+      experience, and these years know their own tragedies. It is the time of
+      life when one finds it unendurable not to seem perfect in all outward
+      matters: in worldly position, in the equipments of wealth, in family, and
+      in the grace, elegance, and dignity of all appearances in public. And yet
+      the youth is continually betrayed by the child still intermittently
+      insistent within him, and by the child which undiplomatic people too often
+      assume him to be. Thus with William's attire: he could ill have borne any
+      suggestion that it was not of the mode, but taking care of it was a
+      different matter. Also, when it came to his appetite, he could and would
+      eat anything at any time, but something younger than his years led him&mdash;often
+      in semi-secrecy&mdash;to candy-stores and soda-water fountains and
+      ice-cream parlors; he still relished green apples and knew cravings for
+      other dangerous inedibles. But these survivals were far from painful to
+      him; what injured his sensibilities was the disposition on the part of
+      people especially his parents, and frequently his aunts and uncles&mdash;to
+      regard him as a little boy. Briefly, the deference his soul demanded in
+      its own right, not from strangers only, but from his family, was about
+      that which is supposed to be shown a Grand Duke visiting his Estates.
+      Therefore William suffered often.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But the full ignominy of the task his own mother had set him this
+      afternoon was not realized until he and Genesis set forth upon the return
+      journey from the second-hand shop, bearing the two wash-tubs, a
+      clothes-wringer (which Mrs. Baxter had forgotten to mention), and the tin
+      boiler&mdash;and followed by the lowly Clematis.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      V
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      SORROWS WITHIN A BOILER
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      There was something really pageant-like about the little excursion now,
+      and the glittering clothes-boiler, borne on high, sent flashing lights far
+      down the street. The wash-tubs were old-fashioned, of wood; they refused
+      to fit one within the other; so William, with his right hand, and Genesis,
+      with his left, carried one of the tubs between them; Genesis carried the
+      heavy wringer with his right hand, and he had fastened the other tub upon
+      his back by means of a bit of rope which passed over his shoulder; thus
+      the tin boiler, being a lighter burden, fell to William.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The cover would not stay in place, but continually fell off when he
+      essayed to carry the boiler by one of its handles, and he made shift to
+      manage the accursed thing in various ways&mdash;the only one proving
+      physically endurable being, unfortunately, the most grotesque. He was
+      forced to carry the cover in his left hand and to place his head partially
+      within the boiler itself, and to support it&mdash;tilted obliquely to rest
+      upon his shoulders&mdash;as a kind of monstrous tin cowl or helmet. This
+      had the advantage of somewhat concealing his face, though when he leaned
+      his head back, in order to obtain clearer vision of what was before him,
+      the boiler slid off and fell to the pavement with a noise that nearly
+      caused a runaway, and brought the hot-cheeked William much derisory
+      attention from a passing street-car. However, he presently caught the
+      knack of keeping it in position, and it fell no more.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Seen from the rear, William was unrecognizable&mdash;but interesting. He
+      appeared to be a walking clothes-boiler, armed with a shield and
+      connected, by means of a wash-tub, with a negro of informal ideas
+      concerning dress. In fact, the group was whimsical, and three young people
+      who turned in behind it, out of a cross-street, indulged immediately in
+      fits of inadequately suppressed laughter, though neither Miss May Parcher
+      nor Mr. Johnnie Watson even remotely suspected that the legs beneath the
+      clothes-boiler belonged to an acquaintance. And as for the third of this
+      little party, Miss Parcher's visitor, those peregrinating legs suggested
+      nothing familiar to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, see the fun-ee laundrymans!&rdquo; she cried, addressing a cottony doglet's
+      head that bobbed gently up and down over her supporting arm. &ldquo;Sweetest
+      Flopit must see, too! Flopit, look at the fun-ee laundrymans!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Sh!&rdquo; murmured Miss Parcher, choking. &ldquo;He might hear you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He might, indeed, since they were not five yards behind him and the dulcet
+      voice was clear and free. Within the shadowy interior of the
+      clothes-boiler were features stricken with sudden, utter horror. &ldquo;FLOPIT!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The attention of Genesis was attracted by a convulsive tugging of the tub
+      which he supported in common with William; it seemed passionately to urge
+      greater speed. A hissing issued from the boiler, and Genesis caught the
+      words, huskily whispered:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Walk faster! You got to walk faster.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The tub between them tugged forward with a pathos of appeal wasted upon
+      the easy-going Genesis.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I got plenty time cut 'at grass befo' you' pa gits home,&rdquo; he said,
+      reassuringly. &ldquo;Thishere rope what I got my extry tub slung to is 'mos' wo'
+      plum thew my hide.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Having uttered this protest, he continued to ambulate at the same pace,
+      though somewhat assisted by the forward pull of the connecting tub, an
+      easance of burden which he found pleasant; and no supplementary message
+      came from the clothes-boiler, for the reason that it was incapable of
+      further speech. And so the two groups maintained for a time their relative
+      positions, about fifteen feet apart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The amusement of the second group having abated through satiety, the minds
+      of its components turned to other topics. &ldquo;Now Flopit must have his
+      darlin' 'ickle run,&rdquo; said Flopit's mistress, setting the doglet upon the
+      ground. &ldquo;That's why sweetest Flopit and I and all of us came for a walk,
+      instead of sitting on the nice, cool porch-kins. SEE the sweetie toddle!
+      Isn't he adorable, May? ISN'T he adorable, Mr. Watson?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Watson put a useless sin upon his soul, since all he needed to say was
+      a mere &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo; He fluently avowed himself to have become insane over the
+      beauty of Flopit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Flopit, placed upon the ground, looked like something that had dropped
+      from a Christmas tree, and he automatically made use of fuzzy legs,
+      somewhat longer than a caterpillar's, to patter after his mistress. He was
+      neither enterprising nor inquisitive; he kept close to the rim of her
+      skirt, which was as high as he could see, and he wished to be taken up and
+      carried again. He was in a half-stupor; it was his desire to remain in
+      that condition, and his propulsion was almost wholly subconscious, though
+      surprisingly rapid, considering his dimensions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My goo'ness!&rdquo; exclaimed Genesis, glancing back over his shoulder. &ldquo;'At
+      li'l' thing ack like he think he go'n a GIT somewheres!&rdquo; And then, in
+      answer to a frantic pull upon the tub, &ldquo;Look like you mighty strong
+      t'day,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I cain' go no fastuh!&rdquo; He glanced back again, chuckling.
+      &ldquo;'At li'l' bird do well not mix up nothin' 'ith ole man Clematis!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Clematis, it happened, was just coming into view, having been detained
+      round the corner by his curiosity concerning a set of Louis XVI. furniture
+      which some house-movers were unpacking upon the sidewalk. A curl of
+      excelsior, in fact, had attached itself to his nether lip, and he was
+      pausing to remove it&mdash;when his roving eye fell upon Flopit. Clematis
+      immediately decided to let the excelsior remain where it was, lest he miss
+      something really important.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He approached with glowing eagerness at a gallop.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then, having almost reached his goal, he checked himself with surprising
+      abruptness and walked obliquely beside Flopit, but upon a parallel course,
+      his manner agitated and his brow furrowed with perplexity. Flopit was
+      about the size of Clematis's head, and although Clematis was certain that
+      Flopit was something alive, he could not decide what.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Flopit paid not the slightest attention to Clematis. The self-importance
+      of dogs, like that of the minds of men, is in directly inverse ratio to
+      their size; and if the self-importance of Flopit could have been taken out
+      of him and given to an elephant, that elephant would have been
+      insufferable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Flopit continued to pay no attention to Clematis.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      All at once, a roguish and irresponsible mood seized upon Clematis; he
+      laid his nose upon the ground, deliberating a bit of gaiety, and then,
+      with a little rush, set a large, rude paw upon the sensitive face of
+      Flopit and capsized him. Flopit uttered a bitter complaint in an asthmatic
+      voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, nassy dray bid Horror!&rdquo; cried his mistress, turning quickly at this
+      sound and waving a pink parasol at Clematis. &ldquo;Shoo! DIRTY dog! Go 'way!&rdquo;
+       And she was able somehow to connect him with the wash-tub and boiler, for
+      she added, &ldquo;Nassy laundrymans to have bad doggies!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Watson rushed upon Clematis with angry bellowings and imaginary
+      missiles. &ldquo;You disgusting brute!&rdquo; he roared. &ldquo;How DARE you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Apparently much alarmed, Clematis lowered his ears, tucked his tail
+      underneath him, and fled to the rear, not halting once or looking back
+      until he disappeared round the corner whence he had come. &ldquo;There!&rdquo; said
+      Mr. Watson. &ldquo;I guess HE won't bother us again very soon!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It must be admitted that Milady was one of those people who do not mind
+      being overheard, no matter what they say. &ldquo;Lucky for us,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;we
+      had a nice dray bid MANS to protect us, wasn't it, Flopit?&rdquo; And she
+      thought it necessary to repeat something she had already made sufficiently
+      emphatic.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nassy laundrymans!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I expect I gave that big mongrel the fright of his life,&rdquo; said Mr.
+      Watson, with complacency. &ldquo;He'll probably run a mile!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The shoulders of Genesis shook as he was towed along by the convulsive
+      tub. He knew from previous evidence that Clematis possessed both a high
+      quality and a large quantity of persistence, and it was his hilarious
+      opinion that the dog had not gone far. As a matter of fact, the head of
+      Clematis was at this moment cautiously extended from behind the fence-post
+      at the corner whither he had fled. Viewing with growing assurance the
+      scene before him, he permitted himself to emerge wholly, and sat down,
+      with his head tilted to one side in thought. Almost at the next corner the
+      clothes-boiler with legs, and the wash-tubs, and Genesis were marching on;
+      and just behind them went three figures not so familiar to Clematis, and
+      connected in his mind with a vague, mild apprehension. But all backs were
+      safely toward him, and behind them pattered that small live thing which
+      had so profoundly interested him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He rose and came on apace, silently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When he reached the side of Flopit, some eight or nine seconds later,
+      Clematis found himself even more fascinated and perplexed than during
+      their former interview, though again Flopit seemed utterly to disregard
+      him. Clematis was not at all sure that Flopit WAS a dog, but he felt that
+      it was his business to find out. Heaven knows, so far, Clematis had not a
+      particle of animosity in his heart, but he considered it his duty to
+      himself&mdash;in case Flopit turned out not to be a dog&mdash;to learn
+      just what he was. The thing might be edible.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Therefore, again pacing obliquely beside Flopit (while the human beings
+      ahead went on, unconscious of the approaching climax behind them) Clematis
+      sought to detect, by senses keener than sight, some evidence of Flopit's
+      standing in the zoological kingdom; and, sniffing at the top of Flopit's
+      head&mdash;though Clematis was uncertain about its indeed being a head&mdash;he
+      found himself baffled and mentally much disturbed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Flopit did not smell like a dog; he smelled of violets.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      VI
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      TRUCULENCE
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      Clematis frowned and sneezed as the infinitesimal particles of sachet
+      powder settled in the lining of his nose. He became serious, and was
+      conscious of a growing feeling of dislike; he began to be upset over the
+      whole matter. But his conscience compelled him to persist in his attempt
+      to solve the mystery; and also he remembered that one should be courteous,
+      no matter what some other thing chooses to be. Hence he sought to place
+      his nose in contact with Flopit's, for he had perceived on the front of
+      the mysterious stranger a buttony something which might possibly be a
+      nose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Flopit evaded the contact. He felt that he had endured about enough from
+      this Apache, and that it was nearly time to destroy him. Having no
+      experience of battle, save with bedroom slippers and lace handkerchiefs,
+      Flopit had little doubt of his powers as a warrior. Betrayed by his
+      majestic self-importance, he had not the remotest idea that he was small.
+      Usually he saw the world from a window, or from the seat of an automobile,
+      or over his mistress's arm. He looked down on all dogs, thought them
+      ruffianly, despised them; and it is the miraculous truth that not only was
+      he unaware that he was small, but he did not even know that he was a dog,
+      himself. He did not think about himself in that way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      From these various ignorances of his sprang his astonishing, his
+      incredible, valor. Clematis, with head lowered close to Flopit's,
+      perceived something peering at him from beneath the tangled curtain of
+      cottony, violet-scented stuff which seemed to be the upper part of
+      Flopit's face. It was Flopit's eye, a red-rimmed eye and sore&mdash;and so
+      demoniacally malignant that Clematis, indescribably startled, would have
+      withdrawn his own countenance at once&mdash;but it was too late. With a
+      fearful oath Flopit sprang upward and annexed himself to the under lip of
+      the horrified Clematis.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Horror gave place to indignation instantly; and as Miss Parcher and her
+      guest turned, screaming, Clematis's self-command went all to pieces.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Parcher became faint and leaned against the hedge along which they
+      had been passing, but her visitor continued to scream, while Mr. Watson
+      endeavored to kick Clematis without ruining Flopit&mdash;a difficult
+      matter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Flopit was baresark from the first, and the mystery is where he learned
+      the dog-cursing that he did. In spite of the David-and-Goliath difference
+      in size it would be less than justice to deny that a very fair dog-fight
+      took place. It was so animated, in truth, that the one expert in such
+      matters who was present found himself warmly interested. Genesis relieved
+      himself of the burden of the wash-tub upon his back, dropped the handle of
+      that other in which he had a half-interest, and watched the combat; his
+      mouth, like his eyes, wide open in simple pleasure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was not destined to enjoy the spectacle to the uttermost; a furious
+      young person struck him a frantic, though harmless, blow with a pink
+      parasol.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You stop them!&rdquo; she screamed. &ldquo;You make that horrible dog stop, or I'll
+      have you arrested!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Genesis rushed forward.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You CLEM!&rdquo; he shouted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And instantly Clematis was but a whitish and brownish streak along the
+      hedge. He ran like a dog in a moving picture when they speed the film, and
+      he shot from sight, once more, round the corner, while Flopit, still
+      cursing, was seized and squeezed in his mistress's embrace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But she was not satisfied. &ldquo;Where's that laundryman with the tin thing on
+      his head?&rdquo; she demanded. &ldquo;He ought to be arrested for having such a dog.
+      It's HIS dog, isn't it? Where is he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Genesis turned and looked round about the horizon, mystified. William
+      Sylvanus Baxter and the clothes-boiler had disappeared from sight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If he owns that dog,&rdquo; asserted the still furious owner of Flopit, &ldquo;I WILL
+      have him arrested. Where is he? Where is that laundryman?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, he,&rdquo; Genesis began slowly, &ldquo;HE ain' no laundrym&mdash;&rdquo; He came to
+      an uncertain pause. If she chose to assume, with quick feminine intuition,
+      that the dog was William's and that William was a laundryman, it was not
+      Genesis's place to enlighten her. &ldquo;'Tic'larly,&rdquo; he reflected, &ldquo;since she
+      talk so free about gittin' people 'rested!&rdquo; He became aware that William
+      had squirmed through the hedge and now lay prostrate on the other side of
+      it, but this, likewise, was something within neither his duty nor his
+      inclination to reveal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thishere laundryman,&rdquo; said Genesis, resuming&mdash;&ldquo;thishere laundryman
+      what own the dog, I reckon he mus' hopped on 'at street-car what went by.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, he OUGHT to be arrested!&rdquo; she said, and, pressing her cheek to
+      Flopit's, she changed her tone. &ldquo;Izzum's ickle heart a-beatin' so
+      floppity! Um's own mumsy make ums all right, um's p'eshus Flopit!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then with the consoling Miss Parcher's arm about her, and Mr. Watson even
+      more dazzled with love than when he had first met her, some three hours
+      past, she made her way between the tubs, and passed on down the street.
+      Not till the three (and Flopit) were out of sight did William come forth
+      from the hedge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hi yah!&rdquo; exclaimed Genesis. &ldquo;'At lady go'n a 'rest ev'y man what own a
+      dog, 'f she had her way!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But William spoke no word.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In silence, then, they resumed their burdens and their journey. Clematis
+      was waiting for them at the corner ahead.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      VII
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      MR. BAXTER'S EVENING CLOTHES
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      That evening, at about half-past seven o'clock, dinner being over and Mr.
+      and Mrs. Baxter (parents of William) seated in the library, Mrs. Baxter
+      said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think it's about time for you to go and dress for your Emerson Club
+      meeting, papa, if you intend to go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do I have to dress?&rdquo; Mr. Baxter asked, plaintively.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think nearly all the men do, don't they?&rdquo; she insisted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I'm getting old enough not to have to, don't you think, mamma?&rdquo; he
+      urged, appealingly. &ldquo;When a man's my age&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nonsense!&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Your figure is exactly like William's. It's the
+      figure that really shows age first, and yours hasn't begun to.&rdquo; And she
+      added, briskly, &ldquo;Go along like a good boy and get it ever!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Baxter rose submissively and went upstairs to do as he was bid. But,
+      after fifteen or twenty minutes, during which his footsteps had been
+      audible in various parts of the house, he called down over the banisters:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can't find 'em.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can't find what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My evening clothes. They aren't anywhere in the house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where did you put them the last time you wore them?&rdquo; she called.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know. I haven't had 'em on since last spring.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right; I'll come,&rdquo; she said, putting her sewing upon the table and
+      rising. &ldquo;Men never can find anything,&rdquo; she observed, additionally, as she
+      ascended the stairs. &ldquo;Especially their own things!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      On this occasion, however, as she was obliged to admit a little later,
+      women were not more efficacious than the duller sex. Search high, search
+      low, no trace of Mr. Baxter's evening clothes were to be found. &ldquo;Perhaps
+      William could find them,&rdquo; said Mrs. Baxter, a final confession of
+      helplessness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But William was no more to be found than the missing apparel. William, in
+      fact, after spending some time in the lower back hall, listening to the
+      quest above, had just gone out through the kitchen door. And after some
+      ensuing futile efforts, Mr. Baxter was forced to proceed to his club in
+      the accoutrements of business.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He walked slowly, enjoying the full moon, which sailed up a river in the
+      sky&mdash;the open space between the trees that lined the street&mdash;and
+      as he passed the house of Mr. Parcher he noted the fine white shape of a
+      masculine evening bosom gleaming in the moonlight on the porch. A dainty
+      figure in white sat beside it, and there was another white figure present,
+      though this one was so small that Mr. Baxter did not see it at all. It was
+      the figure of a tiny doglet, and it reposed upon the black masculine knees
+      that belonged to the evening bosom.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Baxter heard a dulcet voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He IS indifferink, isn't he, sweetest Flopit? Seriously, though, Mr.
+      Watson was telling me about you to-day. He says you're the most
+      indifferent man he knows. He says you don't care two minutes whether a
+      girl lives or dies. Isn't he a mean ole wicked sing, p'eshus Flopit!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The reply was inaudible, and Mr. Baxter passed on, having recognized
+      nothing of his own.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;These YOUNG fellows don't have any trouble finding their dress-suits, I
+      guess,&rdquo; he murmured. &ldquo;Not on a night like this!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      ... Thus William, after a hard day, came to the gates of his romance,
+      entering those portals of the moon in triumph. At one stroke his dashing
+      raiment gave him high superiority over Johnnie Watson and other rivals who
+      might loom. But if he had known to what undoing this great coup exposed
+      him, it is probable that Mr. Baxter would have appeared at the Emerson
+      Club, that night, in evening clothes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      VIII
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      JANE
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      William's period of peculiar sensitiveness dated from that evening, and
+      Jane, in particular, caused him a great deal of anxiety. In fact, he began
+      to feel that Jane was a mortification which his parents might have spared
+      him, with no loss to themselves or to the world. Not having shown that
+      consideration for anybody, they might at least have been less spinelessly
+      indulgent of her. William's bitter conviction was that he had never seen a
+      child so starved of discipline or so lost to etiquette as Jane.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For one thing, her passion for bread-and-butter, covered with apple sauce
+      and powdered sugar, was getting to be a serious matter. Secretly, William
+      was not yet so changed by love as to be wholly indifferent to this
+      refection himself, but his consumption of it was private, whereas Jane had
+      formed the habit of eating it in exposed places&mdash;such as the front
+      yard or the sidewalk. At no hour of the day was it advisable for a
+      relative to approach the neighborhood in fastidious company, unless
+      prepared to acknowledge kinship with a spindly young person either eating
+      bread-and-butter and apple sauce and powdered sugar, or all too visibly
+      just having eaten bread-and-butter and apple sauce and powdered sugar.
+      Moreover, there were times when Jane had worse things than apple sauce to
+      answer for, as William made clear to his mother in an oration as hot as
+      the July noon sun which looked down upon it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Baxter was pleasantly engaged with a sprinkling-can and some small
+      flower-beds in the shady back yard, and Jane, having returned from various
+      sidewalk excursions, stood close by as a spectator, her hands replenished
+      with the favorite food and her chin rising and falling in gentle motions,
+      little prophecies of the slight distensions which passed down her slender
+      throat with slow, rhythmic regularity. Upon this calm scene came William,
+      plunging round a corner of the house, furious yet plaintive.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You've got to do something about that child!&rdquo; he began. &ldquo;I CAN not stand
+      it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane looked at him dumbly, not ceasing, how ever, to eat; while Mrs.
+      Baxter thoughtfully continued her sprinkling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You've been gone all morning, Willie,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I thought your father
+      mentioned at breakfast that he expected you to put in at least four hours
+      a day on your mathematics and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's neither here nor there,&rdquo; William returned, vehemently. &ldquo;I just
+      want to say this: if you don't do something about Jane, I will! Just look
+      at her! LOOK at her, I ask you! That's just the way she looked half an
+      hour ago, out on the public sidewalk in front of the house, when I came by
+      here with Miss PRATT! That was pleasant, wasn't it? To be walking with a
+      lady on the public street and meet a member of my family looking like
+      that! Oh, LOVELY!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In the anguish of this recollection his voice cracked, and though his eyes
+      were dry his gestures wept for him. Plainly, he was about to reach the
+      most lamentable portion of his narrative. &ldquo;And then she HOLLERED at me!
+      She hollered, 'Oh, WILL&mdash;EE!'&rdquo; Here he gave an imitation of Jane's
+      voice, so damnatory that Jane ceased to eat for several moments and drew
+      herself up with a kind of dignity. &ldquo;She hollered, 'Oh, WILL&mdash;EE' at
+      me!&rdquo; he stormed. &ldquo;Anybody would think I was about six years old! She
+      hollered, 'Oh, Will&mdash;ee,' and she rubbed her stomach and slushed
+      apple sauce all over her face, and she kept hollering, 'Will&mdash;ee!'
+      with her mouth full. 'Will&mdash;ee, look! Good! Bread-and-butter and
+      apple sauce and sugar! I bet you wish YOU had some, Will&mdash;ee!'&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You did eat some, the other day,&rdquo; said Jane. &ldquo;You ate a whole lot. You
+      eat it every chance you get!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You hush up!&rdquo; he shouted, and returned to his description of the outrage.
+      &ldquo;She kept FOLLOWING us! She followed us, hollering, 'WILL&mdash;EE!' till
+      it's a wonder we didn't go deaf! And just look at her! I don't see how you
+      can stand it to have her going around like that and people knowing it's
+      your child! Why, she hasn't got enough ON!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Baxter laughed. &ldquo;Oh, for this very hot weather, I really don't think
+      people notice or care much about&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Notice'!&rdquo; he wailed. &ldquo;I guess Miss PRATT noticed! Hot weather's no
+      excuse for&mdash;for outright obesity!&rdquo; (As Jane was thin, it is probable
+      that William had mistaken the meaning of this word.) &ldquo;Why, half o' what
+      she HAS got on has come unfastened&mdash;especially that frightful thing
+      hanging around her leg&mdash;and look at her back, I just beg you! I ask
+      you to look at her back. You can see her spinal cord!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Column,&rdquo; Mrs. Baxter corrected. &ldquo;Spinal column, Willie.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do <i>I</i> care which it is?&rdquo; he fumed. &ldquo;People aren't supposed to
+      go around with it EXPOSED, whichever it is! And with apple sauce on their
+      ears!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is not!&rdquo; Jane protested, and at the moment when she spoke she was
+      right. Naturally, however, she lifted her hands to the accused ears, and
+      the unfortunate result was to justify William's statement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;LOOK!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;I just ask you to look! Think of it: that's the sight I
+      have to meet when I'm out walking with Miss PRATT! She asked me who it
+      was, and I wish you'd seen her face. She wanted to know who 'that curious
+      child' was, and I'm glad you didn't hear the way she said it. 'Who IS that
+      curious child?' she said, and I had to tell her it was my sister. I had to
+      tell Miss PRATT it was my only SISTER!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Willie, who is Miss Pratt?&rdquo; asked Mrs. Baxter, mildly. &ldquo;I don't think
+      I've ever heard of&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane had returned to an admirable imperturbability, but she chose this
+      moment to interrupt her mother, and her own eating, with remarks delivered
+      in a tone void of emphasis or expression.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Willie's mashed on her,&rdquo; she said, casually. &ldquo;And she wears false
+      side-curls. One almost came off.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At this unspeakable desecration William's face was that of a high priest
+      stricken at the altar.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She's visitin' Miss May Parcher,&rdquo; added the deadly Jane. &ldquo;But the
+      Parchers are awful tired of her. They wish she'd go home, but they don't
+      like to tell her so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      One after another these insults from the canaille fell upon the ears of
+      William. That slanders so atrocious could soil the universal air seemed
+      unthinkable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He became icily calm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;NOW if you don't punish her,&rdquo; he said, deliberately, &ldquo;it's because you
+      have lost your sense of duty!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Having uttered these terrible words, he turned upon his heel and marched
+      toward the house. His mother called after him:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wait, Willie. Jane doesn't mean to hurt your feelings&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My feelings!&rdquo; he cried, the iciness of his demeanor giving way under the
+      strain of emotion. &ldquo;You stand there and allow her to speak as she did of
+      one of the&mdash;one of the&mdash;&rdquo; For a moment William appeared to be at
+      a loss, and the fact is that it always has been a difficult matter to
+      describe THE bright, ineffable divinity of the world to one's mother,
+      especially in the presence of an inimical third party of tender years.
+      &ldquo;One of the&mdash;&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;one of the&mdash;the noblest&mdash;one of
+      the noblest&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Again he paused.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Jane didn't mean anything,&rdquo; said Mrs. Baxter. &ldquo;And if you think Miss
+      Pratt is so nice, I'll ask May Parcher to bring her to tea with us some
+      day. If it's too hot, we'll have iced tea, and you can ask Johnnie Watson,
+      if you like. Don't get so upset about things, Willie!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Upset'!&rdquo; he echoed, appealing to heaven against this word. &ldquo;'Upset'!&rdquo;
+       And he entered the house in a manner most dramatic.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What made you say that?&rdquo; Mrs. Baxter asked, turning curiously to Jane
+      when William had disappeared. &ldquo;Where did you hear any such things?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was there,&rdquo; Jane replied, gently eating on and on. William could come
+      and William could go, but Jane's alimentary canal went on forever.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You were where, Jane?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At the Parchers'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I see.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yesterday afternoon,&rdquo; said Jane, &ldquo;when Miss Parcher had the Sunday-school
+      class for lemonade and cookies.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you hear Miss Parcher say&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No'm,&rdquo; said Jane. &ldquo;I ate too many cookies, I guess, maybe. Anyways, Miss
+      Parcher said I better lay down&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;LIE down, Jane.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm. On the sofa in the liberry, an' Mrs. Parcher an' Mr. Parcher came
+      in there an' sat down, after while, an' it was kind of dark, an' they
+      didn't hardly notice me, or I guess they thought I was asleep, maybe.
+      Anyways, they didn't talk loud, but Mr. Parcher would sort of grunt an'
+      ack cross. He said he just wished he knew when he was goin' to have a home
+      again. Then Mrs. Parcher said May HAD to ask her Sunday-school class, but
+      he said he never meant the Sunday-school class. He said since Miss Pratt
+      came to visit, there wasn't anywhere he could go, because Willie Baxter
+      an' Johnnie Watson an' Joe Bullitt an' all the other ones like that were
+      there all the time, an' it made him just sick at the stummick, an' he did
+      wish there was some way to find out when she was goin' home, because he
+      couldn't stand much more talk about love. He said Willie an' Johnnie
+      Watson an' Joe Bullitt an' Miss Pratt were always arguin' somep'm about
+      love, an' he said Willie was the worst. Mamma, he said he didn't like the
+      rest of it, but he said he guessed he could stand it if it wasn't for
+      Willie. An' he said the reason they were all so in love of Miss Pratt was
+      because she talks baby-talk, an' he said he couldn't stand much more
+      baby-talk. Mamma, she has the loveliest little white dog, an' Mr. Parcher
+      doesn't like it. He said he couldn't go anywhere around the place without
+      steppin' on the dog or Willie Baxter. An' he said he couldn't sit on his
+      own porch any more; he said he couldn't sit even in the liberry but he had
+      to hear baby-talk goin' on SOMEwheres an' then either Willie Baxter or Joe
+      Bullitt or somebody or another arguin' about love. Mamma, he said&rdquo;&mdash;Jane
+      became impressive&mdash;&ldquo;he said, mamma, he said he didn't mind the
+      Sunday-school class, but he couldn't stand those dam boys!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Jane!&rdquo; Mrs. Baxter cried, &ldquo;you MUSTN'T say such things!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I didn't, mamma. Mr. Parcher said it. He said he couldn't stand those da&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;JANE! No matter what he said, you mustn't repeat&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I'm not. I only said Mr. PARCHER said he couldn't stand those d&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Baxter cut the argument short by imprisoning Jane's mouth with a firm
+      hand. Jane continued to swallow quietly until released. Then she said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, mamma, how can I tell you what he said unless I say&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hush!&rdquo; Mrs. Baxter commanded. &ldquo;You must never, never again use such a
+      terrible and wicked word.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I won't, mamma,&rdquo; Jane said, meekly. Then she brightened. &ldquo;Oh, <i>I</i>
+      know! I'll say 'word' instead. Won't that be all right?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I suppose so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Mr. Parcher said he couldn't stand those word boys. That sounds all
+      right, doesn't it, mamma?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Baxter hesitated, but she was inclined to hear as complete as
+      possible a report of Mr. and Mrs. Parcher's conversation, since it seemed
+      to concern William so nearly; and she well knew that Jane had her own way
+      of telling things&mdash;or else they remained untold.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I suppose so,&rdquo; Mrs. Baxter said, again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, they kind of talked along,&rdquo; Jane continued, much pleased;&mdash;&ldquo;an'
+      Mr. Parcher said when he was young he wasn't any such a&mdash;such a word
+      fool as these young word fools were. He said in all his born days Willie
+      Baxter was the wordest fool he ever saw!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Willie Baxter's mother flushed a little. &ldquo;That was very unjust and very
+      wrong of Mr. Parcher,&rdquo; she said, primly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh no, mamma!&rdquo; Jane protested. &ldquo;Mrs. Parcher thought so, too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did she, indeed!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Only she didn't say word or wordest or anything like that,&rdquo; Jane
+      explained. &ldquo;She said it was because Miss Pratt had coaxed him to be so in
+      love of her, an' Mr. Parcher said he didn't care whose fault it was,
+      Willie was a&mdash;a word calf an' so were all the rest of 'em, Mr.
+      Parcher said. An' he said he couldn't stand it any more. Mr. Parcher said
+      that a whole lot of times, mamma. He said he guess' pretty soon he'd haf
+      to be in the lunatic asylum if Miss Pratt stayed a few more days with her
+      word little dog an' her word Willie Baxter an' all the other word calfs.
+      Mrs. Parcher said he oughtn't to say 'word,' mamma. She said, 'Hush,
+      hush!' to him, mamma. He talked like this, mamma: he said, 'I'll be word
+      if I stand it!' An' he kept gettin' crosser, an' he said, 'Word! Word!
+      WORD! WOR&mdash;'&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There!&rdquo; Mrs. Baxter interrupted, sharply. &ldquo;That will do, Jane! We'll talk
+      about something else now, I think.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane looked hurt; she was taking great pleasure in this confidential
+      interview, and gladly would have continued to quote the harried Mr.
+      Parcher at great length. Still, she was not entirely uncontent: she must
+      have had some perception that her performance merely as a notable bit of
+      reportorial art&mdash;did not wholly lack style, even if her attire did.
+      Yet, brilliant as Jane's work was, Mrs. Baxter felt no astonishment;
+      several times ere this Jane had demonstrated a remarkable faculty for the
+      retention of details concerning William. And running hand in hand with a
+      really superb curiosity, this powerful memory was making Jane an even
+      greater factor in William's life than he suspected.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      During the glamors of early love, if there be a creature more deadly than
+      the little brother of a budding woman, that creature is the little sister
+      of a budding man. The little brother at least tells in the open all he
+      knows, often at full power of his lungs, and even that may be avoided,
+      since he is wax in the hands of bribery; but the little sister is more apt
+      to save her knowledge for use upon a terrible occasion; and, no matter
+      what bribes she may accept, she is certain to tell her mother everything.
+      All in all, a young lover should arrange, if possible, to be the only
+      child of elderly parents; otherwise his mother and sister are sure to know
+      a great deal more about him than he knows that they know.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This was what made Jane's eyes so disturbing to William during lunch that
+      day. She ate quietly and competently, but all the while he was conscious
+      of her solemn and inscrutable gaze fixed upon him; and she spoke not once.
+      She could not have rendered herself more annoying, especially as William
+      was trying to treat her with silent scorn, for nothing is more irksome to
+      the muscles of the face than silent scorn, when there is no means of
+      showing it except by the expression. On the other hand, Jane's
+      inscrutability gave her no discomfort whatever. In fact, inscrutability is
+      about the most comfortable expression that a person can wear, though the
+      truth is that just now Jane was not really inscrutable at all.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She was merely looking at William and thinking of Mr. Parcher.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      IX
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      LITTLE SISTERS HAVE BIG EARS
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      The confidential talk between mother and daughter at noon was not the last
+      to take place that day. At nightfall&mdash;eight o'clock in this pleasant
+      season&mdash;Jane was saying her prayers beside her bed, while her mother
+      stood close by, waiting to put out the light.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An' bless mamma and papa an'&mdash;&rdquo; Jane murmured, coming to a pause.
+      &ldquo;An'&mdash;an' bless Willie,&rdquo; she added, with a little reluctance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go on, dear,&rdquo; said her mother. &ldquo;You haven't finished.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know it, mamma,&rdquo; Jane looked up to say. &ldquo;I was just thinkin' a minute.
+      I want to tell you about somep'm.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Finish your prayers first, Jane.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane obeyed with a swiftness in which there was no intentional
+      irreverence. Then she jumped into bed and began a fresh revelation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's about papa's clo'es, mamma.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What clothes of papa's? What do you mean, Jane?&rdquo; asked Mrs. Baxter,
+      puzzled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The ones you couldn't find. The ones you been lookin' for 'most every
+      day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean papa's evening clothes?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm,&rdquo; said Jane. &ldquo;Willie's got 'em on.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, he has!&rdquo; Jane assured her with emphasis. &ldquo;I bet you he's had 'em on
+      every single evening since Miss Pratt came to visit the Parchers! Anyway,
+      he's got 'em on now, 'cause I saw 'em.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Baxter bit her lip and frowned. &ldquo;Are you sure, Jane?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm. I saw him in 'em.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I was in my bare feet after I got undressed&mdash;before you came
+      up-stairs&mdash;mamma, an' I was kind of walkin' around in the hall&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You shouldn't do that, Jane.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No'm. An' I heard Willie say somep'm kind of to himself, or like
+      deckamation. He was inside his room, but the door wasn't quite shut. He
+      started out once, but he went back for somep'm an' forgot to, I guess.
+      Anyway, I thought I better look an' see what was goin' on, mamma. So I
+      just kind of peeked in&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you shouldn't do that, dear,&rdquo; Mrs. Baxter said, musingly. &ldquo;It isn't
+      really quite honorable.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No'm. Well, what you think he was doin'?&rdquo; (Here Jane's voice betrayed
+      excitement and so did her eyes.) &ldquo;He was standin' up there in papa's
+      clo'es before the lookin'-glass, an' first he'd lean his head over on one
+      side, an' then he'd lean it over on the other side, an' then he'd bark,
+      mamma.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He'd what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm!&rdquo; said Jane. &ldquo;He'd give a little, teeny BARK, mamma&mdash;kind of
+      like a puppy, mamma.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What?&rdquo; cried Mrs. Baxter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm, he did!&rdquo; Jane asserted. &ldquo;He did it four or five times. First he'd
+      lean his head way over on his shoulder like this&mdash;look, mamma!&mdash;an'
+      then he'd lean it way over the other shoulder, an' every time he'd do it
+      he'd bark. 'Berp-werp!' he'd say, mamma, just like that, only not loud at
+      all. He said, 'Berp-werp! BERP-WERP-WERP!' You could tell he meant it for
+      barkin', but it wasn't very good, mamma. What you think he meant, mamma?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Heaven knows!&rdquo; murmured the astonished mother.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An' then,&rdquo; Jane continued, &ldquo;he quit barkin' all of a sudden, an' didn't
+      lean his head over any more, an' commenced actin' kind of solemn, an' kind
+      of whispered to himself. I think he was kind of pretendin' he was talkin'
+      to Miss Pratt, or at a party, maybe. Anyways, he spoke out loud after
+      while not just exactly LOUD, I mean, but anyway so's 't I could hear what
+      he said. Mamma&mdash;he said, 'Oh, my baby-talk lady!' just like that,
+      mamma. Listen, mamma, here's the way he said it: 'Oh, my baby-talk lady!'&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane's voice, in this impersonation, became sufficiently soft and
+      tremulous to give Mrs. Baxter a fair idea of the tender yearning of the
+      original. &ldquo;'OH, MY BABY-TALK LADY!'&rdquo; cooed the terrible Jane.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mercy!&rdquo; Mrs. Baxter exclaimed. &ldquo;Perhaps it's no wonder Mr. Parcher&mdash;&rdquo;
+       She broke off abruptly, then inquired, &ldquo;What did he do next, Jane?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Next,&rdquo; said Jane, &ldquo;he put the light out, an' I had to&mdash;well, I just
+      waited kind of squeeged up against the wall, an' he never saw me. He went
+      on out to the back stairs, an' went down the stairs tiptoe, mamma. You
+      know what I think, mamma? I think he goes out that way an' through the
+      kitchen on account of papa's clo'es.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Baxter paused, with her hand upon the key of the shaded electric
+      lamp. &ldquo;I suppose so,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I think perhaps&mdash;&rdquo; For a moment or
+      two she wrapped herself in thought. &ldquo;Perhaps&rdquo;&mdash;she repeated, musingly&mdash;&ldquo;perhaps
+      we'll keep this just a secret between you and me for a little while, Jane,
+      and not say anything to papa about the clothes. I don't think it will hurt
+      them, and I suppose Willie feels they give him a great advantage over the
+      other boys&mdash;and papa uses them so very little, especially since he's
+      grown a wee bit stouter. Yes, it will be our secret, Jane. We'll think it
+      over till to-morrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Baxter turned out the light, then came and kissed Jane in the dark.
+      &ldquo;Good night, dear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;G' night, mamma.&rdquo; But as Mrs. Baxter reached the door Jane's voice was
+      heard again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mamma?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes?&rdquo; Mrs. Baxter paused.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mamma,&rdquo; Jane said, slowly, &ldquo;I think&mdash;I think Mr. Parcher is a very
+      nice man. Mamma?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, dear?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mamma, what do you s'pose Willie barked at the lookin'-glass for?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That,&rdquo; said Mrs. Baxter, &ldquo;is beyond me. Young people and children do the
+      strangest things, Jane! And then, when they get to be middle-aged, they
+      forget all those strange things they did, and they can't understand what
+      the new young people&mdash;like you and Willie mean by the strange things
+      THEY do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm. I bet <i>I</i> know what he was barkin' for, mamma.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You know what I think? I think he was kind of practisin'. I think he was
+      practisin' how to bark at Mr. Parcher.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no!&rdquo; Mrs. Baxter laughed. &ldquo;Who ever could think of such a thing but
+      you, Jane! You go to sleep and forget your nonsense!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nevertheless, Jane might almost have been gifted with clairvoyance, her
+      preposterous idea came so close to the actual fact, for at that very
+      moment William was barking. He was not barking directly at Mr. Parcher, it
+      is true, but within a short distance of him and all too well within his
+      hearing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      X
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      MR. PARCHER AND LOVE
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Parcher, that unhappy gentleman, having been driven indoors from his
+      own porch, had attempted to read Plutarch's Lives in the library, but,
+      owing to the adjacency of the porch and the summer necessity for open
+      windows, his escape spared only his eyes and not his suffering ears. The
+      house was small, being but half of a double one, with small rooms, and the
+      &ldquo;parlor,&rdquo; library, and dining-room all about equally exposed to the porch
+      which ran along the side of the house. Mr. Parcher had no refuge except
+      bed or the kitchen, and as he was troubled with chronic insomnia, and the
+      cook had callers in the kitchen, his case was desperate. Most
+      unfortunately, too, his reading-lamp, the only one in the house, was a
+      fixture near a window, and just beyond that window sat Miss Pratt and
+      William in sweet unconsciousness, while Miss Parcher entertained the
+      overflow (consisting of Mr. Johnnie Watson) at the other end of the porch.
+      Listening perforce to the conversation of the former couple though
+      &ldquo;conversation&rdquo; is far from the expression later used by Mr. Parcher to
+      describe what he heard&mdash;he found it impossible to sit still in his
+      chair. He jerked and twitched with continually increasing restlessness;
+      sometimes he gasped, and other times he moaned a little, and there were
+      times when he muttered huskily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, cute-ums!&rdquo; came the silvery voice of Miss Pratt from the likewise
+      silvery porch outside, underneath the summer moon. &ldquo;Darlin' Flopit, look!
+      Ickle boy Baxter goin' make imitations of darlin' Flopit again. See! Ickle
+      boy Baxter puts head one side, then other side, just like darlin' Flopit.
+      Then barks just like darlin' Flopit! Ladies and 'entlemen, imitations of
+      darlin' Flopit by ickle boy Baxter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Berp-werp! Berp-werp!&rdquo; came the voice of William Sylvanus Baxter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And in the library Plutarch's Lives moved convulsively, while with
+      writhing lips Mr. Parcher muttered to himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;More, more!&rdquo; cried Miss Pratt, clapping her hands. &ldquo;Do it again, ickle
+      boy Baxter!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Berp-werp! Berp-werp-werp!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;WORD!&rdquo; muttered Mr. Parcher.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Pratt's voice became surcharged with honeyed wonder. &ldquo;How did he
+      learn such marv'lous, MARV'LOUS imitations of darlin' Flopit? He ought to
+      go on the big, big stage and be a really actor, oughtn't he, darlin'
+      Flopit? He could make milyums and milyums of dollardies, couldn't he,
+      darlin' Flopit?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      William's modest laugh disclaimed any great ambition for himself in this
+      line. &ldquo;Oh, I always could think up imitations of animals; things like that&mdash;but
+      I hardly would care to&mdash;to adop' the stage for a career. Would&mdash;you?&rdquo;
+       (There was a thrill in his voice when he pronounced the ineffably
+      significant word &ldquo;you.&rdquo;)
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Pratt became intensely serious.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's my DREAM!&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      William, seated upon a stool at her feet, gazed up at the amber head,
+      divinely splashed by the rain of moonlight. The fire with which she spoke
+      stirred him as few things had ever stirred him. He knew she had just
+      revealed a side of herself which she reserved for only the chosen few who
+      were capable of understanding her, and he fell into a hushed rapture. It
+      seemed to him that there was a sacredness about this moment, and he sought
+      vaguely for something to say that would live up to it and not be out of
+      keeping. Then, like an inspiration, there came into his head some words he
+      had read that day and thought beautiful. He had found them beneath an
+      illustration in a magazine, and he spoke them almost instinctively.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was wonderful of you to say that to me,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I shall never
+      forget it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's my DREAM!&rdquo; Miss Pratt exclaimed, again, with the same enthusiasm.
+      &ldquo;It's my DREAM.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You would make a glorious actress!&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At that her mood changed. She laughed a laugh like a sweet little girl's
+      laugh (not Jane's) and, setting her rocking-chair in motion, cuddled the
+      fuzzy white doglet in her arms. &ldquo;Ickle boy Baxter t'yin' flatterbox us,
+      tunnin' Flopit! No'ty, no'ty flatterbox!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no!&rdquo; William insisted, earnestly. &ldquo;I mean it. But&mdash;but&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But whatcums?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you think about actors and actresses making love to each other on
+      the stage? Do you think they have to really feel it, or do they just
+      pretend?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said Miss Pratt, weightily, &ldquo;sometimes one way, sometimes the
+      other.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      William's gravity became more and more profound. &ldquo;Yes, but how can they
+      pretend like that? Don't you think love is a sacred thing, Cousin Lola?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Fictitious sisterships, brotherships, and cousinships are devices to push
+      things along, well known to seventeen and even more advanced ages. On the
+      wonderful evening of their first meeting William and Miss Pratt had cozily
+      arranged to be called, respectively, &ldquo;Ickle boy Baxter&rdquo; and &ldquo;Cousin Lola.&rdquo;
+       (Thus they had broken down the tedious formalities of their first twenty
+      minutes together.)
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't you think love is sacred?&rdquo; he repeated in the deepest tone of which
+      his vocal cords were capable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ess,&rdquo; said Miss Pratt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;<i>I</i> do!&rdquo; William was emphatic. &ldquo;I think love is the most sacred
+      thing there is. I don't mean SOME kinds of love. I mean REAL love. You
+      take some people, I don't believe they ever know what real love means.
+      They TALK about it, maybe, but they don't understand it. Love is something
+      nobody can understand unless they feel it and and if they don't understand
+      it they don't feel it. Don't YOU think so?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ess.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Love,&rdquo; William continued, his voice lifting and thrilling to the great
+      theme&mdash;&ldquo;love is something nobody can ever have but one time in their
+      lives, and if they don't have it then, why prob'ly they never will. Now,
+      if a man REALLY loves a girl, why he'd do anything in the world she wanted
+      him to. Don't YOU think so?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ess, 'deedums!&rdquo; said the silvery voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But if he didn't, then he wouldn't,&rdquo; said William vehemently. &ldquo;But when a
+      man really loves a girl he will. Now, you take a man like that and he can
+      generally do just about anything the girl he loves wants him to. Say,
+      f'rinstance, she wants him to love her even more than he does already&mdash;or
+      almost anything like that&mdash;and supposin' she asks him to. Well, he
+      would go ahead and do it. If they really loved each other he would!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He paused a moment, then in a lowered tone he said, &ldquo;I think REAL love is
+      sacred, don't you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ess.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't you think love is the most sacred thing there is&mdash;that is, if
+      it's REAL love?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ess.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;<i>I</i> do,&rdquo; said William, warmly. &ldquo;I&mdash;I'm glad you feel like that,
+      because I think real love is the kind nobody could have but just once in
+      their lives, but if it isn't REAL love, why&mdash;why most people never
+      have it at all, because&mdash;&rdquo; He paused, seeming to seek for the exact
+      phrase which would express his meaning. &ldquo;&mdash;Because the REAL love a
+      man feels for a girl and a girl for a man, if they REALLY love each other,
+      and, you look at a case like that, of course they would BOTH love each
+      other, or it wouldn't be real love well, what <i>I</i> say is, if it's
+      REAL love, well, it's&mdash;it's sacred, because I think that kind of love
+      is always sacred. Don't you think love is sacred if it's the real thing?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ess,&rdquo; said Miss Pratt. &ldquo;Do Flopit again. Be Flopit!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Berp-werp! Berp-werp-werp.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And within the library an agonized man writhed and muttered:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;WORD! WORD! WORD&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This hoarse repetition had become almost continuous.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      ... But out on the porch, that little, jasmine-scented bower in Arcady
+      where youth cried to youth and golden heads were haloed in the moonshine,
+      there fell a silence. Not utter silence, for out there an ethereal music
+      sounded constantly, unheard and forgotten by older ears. Time was when the
+      sly playwrights used &ldquo;incidental music&rdquo; in their dramas; they knew that an
+      audience would be moved so long as the music played; credulous while that
+      crafty enchantment lasted. And when the galled Mr. Parcher wondered how
+      those young people out on the porch could listen to each other and not
+      die, it was because he did not hear and had forgotten the music that
+      throbs in the veins of youth. Nevertheless, it may not be denied that
+      despite his poor memory this man of fifty was deserving of a little
+      sympathy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was William who broke the silence. &ldquo;How&mdash;&rdquo; he began, and his voice
+      trembled a little. &ldquo;How&mdash;how do you&mdash;how do you think of me when
+      I'm not with you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Think nice-cums,&rdquo; Miss Pratt responded. &ldquo;Flopit an' me think nice-cums.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said William; &ldquo;I mean what name do you have for me when you're when
+      you're thinking about me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Pratt seemed to be puzzled, perhaps justifiably, and she made a
+      cooing sound of interrogation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I mean like this,&rdquo; William explained. &ldquo;F'rinstance, when you first came,
+      I always thought of you as 'Milady'&mdash;when I wrote that poem, you
+      know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ess. Boo'fums.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But now I don't,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Now I think of you by another name when I'm
+      alone. It&mdash;it just sort of came to me. I was kind of just sitting
+      around this afternoon, and I didn't know I was thinking about anything at
+      all very much, and then all of a sudden I said it to myself out loud. It
+      was about as strange a thing as I ever knew of. Don't YOU think so?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ess. It uz dest WEIRD!&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;What ARE dat pitty names?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I called you,&rdquo; said William, huskily and reverently, &ldquo;I called you 'My
+      Baby-Talk Lady.'&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      BANG!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They were startled by a crash from within the library; a heavy weight
+      seemed to have fallen (or to have been hurled) a considerable distance.
+      Stepping to the window, William beheld a large volume lying in a distorted
+      attitude at the foot of the wall opposite to that in which the
+      reading-lamp was a fixture. But of all human life the room was empty; for
+      Mr. Parcher had given up, and was now hastening to his bed in the last
+      faint hope of saving his reason.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His symptoms, however, all pointed to its having fled; and his wife,
+      looking up from some computations in laundry charges, had but a vision of
+      windmill gestures as he passed the door of her room. Then, not only for
+      her, but for the inoffensive people who lived in the other half of the
+      house, the closing of his own door took place in a really memorable
+      manner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      William, gazing upon the fallen Plutarch, had just offered the
+      explanation, &ldquo;Somebody must 'a' thrown it at a bug or something, I guess,&rdquo;
+       when the second explosion sent its reverberations through the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My doodness!&rdquo; Miss Pratt exclaimed, jumping up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      William laughed reassuringly, remaining calm. &ldquo;It's only a door blew shut
+      up-stairs,&rdquo; he said &ldquo;Let's sit down again&mdash;just the way we were?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Unfortunately for him, Mr. Joe Bullitt now made his appearance at the
+      other end of the porch. Mr. Bullitt, though almost a year younger than
+      either William or Johnnie Watson, was of a turbulent and masterful
+      disposition. Moreover, in regard to Miss Pratt, his affections were in as
+      ardent a state as those of his rivals, and he lacked Johnnie's meekness.
+      He firmly declined to be shunted by Miss Parcher, who was trying to favor
+      William's cause, according to a promise he had won of her by strong
+      pleading. Regardless of her efforts, Mr. Bullitt descended upon William
+      and his Baby-Talk-Lady, and received from the latter a honeyed greeting,
+      somewhat to the former's astonishment and not at all to his pleasure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, goody-cute!&rdquo; cried Miss Pratt. &ldquo;Here's big Bruvva Josie-Joe!&rdquo; And she
+      lifted her little dog close to Mr. Bullitt's face, guiding one of Flopit's
+      paws with her fingers. &ldquo;Stroke big Bruvva Josie-Joe's pint teeks, darlin'
+      Flopit.&rdquo; (Josie-Joe's pink cheeks were indicated by the expression &ldquo;pint
+      teeks,&rdquo; evidently, for her accompanying action was to pass Flopit's paw
+      lightly over those glowing surfaces.) &ldquo;'At's nice!&rdquo; she remarked. &ldquo;Stroke
+      him gently, p'eshus Flopit, an' nen we'll coax him to make pitty singin'
+      for us, like us did yestiday.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She turned to William.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;COAX him to make pitty singin'? I LOVE his voice&mdash;I'm dest CRAZY
+      over it. Isn't oo?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      William's passion for Mr. Bullitt's voice appeared to be under control. He
+      laughed coldly, almost harshly. &ldquo;Him sing?&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Has he been tryin'
+      to sing around HERE? I wonder the family didn't call for the police!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was to be seen that Mr. Bullitt did not relish the sally. &ldquo;Well, they
+      will,&rdquo; he retorted, &ldquo;if you ever spring one o' your solos on 'em!&rdquo; And
+      turning to Miss Pratt, he laughed loudly and bitterly. &ldquo;You ought to hear
+      Silly Bill sing&mdash;some time when you don't mind goin' to bed sick for
+      a couple o' days!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Symptoms of truculence at once became alarmingly pronounced on both sides.
+      William was naturally incensed, and as for Mr. Bullitt, he had endured a
+      great deal from William every evening since Miss Pratt's arrival.
+      William's evening clothes were hard enough for both Mr. Watson and Mr.
+      Bullitt to bear, without any additional insolence on the part of the
+      wearer. Big Bruvva Josie-Joe took a step toward his enemy and breathed
+      audibly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let's ALL sing,&rdquo; the tactful Miss Pratt proposed, hastily. &ldquo;Come on, May
+      and Cousin Johnnie-Jump-Up,&rdquo; she called to Miss Parcher and Mr. Watson.
+      &ldquo;Singin'-school, dirls an' boys! Singin'-school! Ding, ding!
+      Singin'-school bell's a-wingin'!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The diversion was successful. Miss Parcher and Mr. Watson joined the other
+      group with alacrity, and the five young people were presently seated close
+      together upon the steps of the porch, sending their voices out upon the
+      air and up to Mr. Parcher's window in the song they found loveliest that
+      summer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Pratt carried the air. William also carried it part of the time and
+      hunted for it the rest of the time, though never in silence. Miss Parcher
+      &ldquo;sang alto,&rdquo; Mr. Bullitt &ldquo;sang bass,&rdquo; and Mr. Watson &ldquo;sang tenor&rdquo;&mdash;that
+      is, he sang as high as possible, often making the top sound of a chord and
+      always repeating the last phrase of each line before the others finished
+      it. The melody was a little too sweet, possibly; while the singers thought
+      so highly of the words that Mr. Parcher missed not one, especially as the
+      vocal rivalry between Josie-Joe and Ickle Boy Baxter incited each of them
+      to prevent Miss Pratt from hearing the other.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      William sang loudest of all; Mr. Parcher had at no time any difficulty in
+      recognizing his voice.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+          &ldquo;Oh, I love my love in the morning
+               And I love my love at night,
+          I love my love in the dawning,
+               And when the stars are bright.
+          Some may love the sunshine,
+               Others may love the dew.
+          Some may love the raindrops,
+               But I love only you-OO-oo!
+                    By the stars up above
+                    It is you I luh-HUV!
+               Yes, <i>I</i> love own-LAY you!&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      They sang it four times; then Mr. Bullitt sang his solo, &ldquo;Tell her, O
+      Golden Moon, how I Adore her,&rdquo; William following with &ldquo;The violate loves
+      the cowslip, but <i>I</i> love YEW,&rdquo; and after that they all sang, &ldquo;Oh, I
+      love my love in the morning,&rdquo; again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      All this while that they sang of love, Mr. Parcher was moving to and fro
+      upon his bed, not more than eighteen feet in an oblique upward-slanting
+      line from the heads of the serenaders. Long, long he tossed, listening to
+      the young voices singing of love; long, long he thought of love, and many,
+      many times he spoke of it aloud, though he was alone in the room. And in
+      thus speaking of it, he would give utterance to phrases and words probably
+      never before used in connection with love since the world began.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His thoughts, and, at intervals, his mutterings, continued to be active
+      far into the night, long after the callers had gone, and though his
+      household and the neighborhood were at rest, with never a katydid outside
+      to rail at the waning moon. And by a coincidence not more singular than
+      most coincidences, it happened that at just about the time he finally fell
+      asleep, a young lady at no great distance from him awoke to find her self
+      thinking of him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      XI
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      BEGINNING A TRUE FRIENDSHIP
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      This was Miss Jane Baxter. She opened her eyes upon the new-born day, and
+      her first thoughts were of Mr. Parcher. That is, he was already in her
+      mind when she awoke, a circumstance to be accounted for on the ground that
+      his conversation, during her quiet convalescence in his library, had so
+      fascinated her that in all likelihood she had been dreaming of him. Then,
+      too, Jane and Mr. Parcher had a bond in common, though Mr. Parcher did not
+      know it. Not without result had William repeated Miss Pratt's inquiry in
+      Jane's hearing: &ldquo;Who IS that curious child?&rdquo; Jane had preserved her
+      sang-froid, but the words remained with her, for she was one of those who
+      ponder and retain in silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She thought almost exclusively of Mr. Parcher until breakfast-time, and
+      resumed her thinking of him at intervals during the morning. Then, in the
+      afternoon, a series of quiet events not unconnected with William's passion
+      caused her to think of Mr. Parcher more poignantly than ever; nor was her
+      mind diverted to a different channel by another confidential conversation
+      with her mother. Who can say, then, that it was not by design that she
+      came face to face with Mr. Parcher on the public highway at about five
+      o'clock that afternoon? Everything urges the belief that she deliberately
+      set herself in his path.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Parcher was walking home from his office, and he walked slowly,
+      gulping from time to time, as he thought of the inevitable evening before
+      him. His was not a rugged constitution, and for the last fortnight or so
+      he had feared that it was giving way altogether. Each evening he felt that
+      he was growing weaker, and sometimes he thought piteously that he might go
+      away for a while. He did not much care where, though what appealed to him
+      most, curiously enough, was not the thought of the country, with the
+      flowers and little birds; no, what allured him was the idea that perhaps
+      he could find lodgment for a time in an Old People's Home, where the
+      minimum age for inmates was about eighty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Walking more and more slowly, as he approached the dwelling he had once
+      thought of as home, he became aware of a little girl in a checkered dress
+      approaching him at a gait varied by the indifferent behavior of a
+      barrel-hoop which she was disciplining with a stick held in her right
+      hand. When the hoop behaved well, she came ahead rapidly; when it affected
+      to be intoxicated, which was most often its whim, she zigzagged with it,
+      and gained little ground. But all the while, and without reference to what
+      went on concerning the hoop, she slowly and continuously fed herself (with
+      her left hand) small, solemnly relished bites of a slice of
+      bread-and-butter covered with apple sauce and powdered sugar.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Parcher looked upon her, and he shivered slightly; for he knew her to
+      be Willie Baxter's sister.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Unaware of the emotion she produced in him, Jane checked her hoop and
+      halted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;G'd afternoon, Mister Parcher,&rdquo; she said, gravely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good afternoon,&rdquo; he returned, without much spirit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane looked up at him trustfully and with a strange, unconscious fondness.
+      &ldquo;You goin' home now, Mr. Parcher?&rdquo; she asked, turning to walk at his side.
+      She had suspended the hoop over her left arm and transferred the
+      bread-and-butter and apple sauce and sugar to her right, so that she could
+      eat even more conveniently than before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suppose so,&rdquo; he murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My brother Willie's been at your house all afternoon,&rdquo; she remarked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He repeated, &ldquo;I suppose so,&rdquo; but in a tone which combined the vocal tokens
+      of misery and of hopeless animosity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He just went home,&rdquo; said Jane. &ldquo;I was 'cross the street from your house,
+      but I guess he didn't see me. He kept lookin' back at your house. Miss
+      Pratt was on the porch.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suppose so.&rdquo; This time it was a moan.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane proceeded to give him some information. &ldquo;My brother Willie isn't
+      comin' back to your house to-night, but he doesn't know it yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What!&rdquo; exclaimed Mr. Parcher.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Willie isn't goin' to spend any more evenings at your house at all,&rdquo; said
+      Jane, thoughtfully. &ldquo;He isn't, but he doesn't know it yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Parcher gazed fixedly at the wonderful child, and something like a ray
+      of sunshine flickered over his seamed and harried face. &ldquo;Are you SURE he
+      isn't?&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;What makes you think so?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know he isn't,&rdquo; said demure Jane. &ldquo;It's on account of somep'm I told
+      mamma.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And upon this a gentle glow began to radiate throughout Mr. Parcher. A new
+      feeling budded within his bosom; he was warmly attracted to Jane. She was
+      evidently a child to be cherished, and particularly to be encouraged in
+      the line of conduct she seemed to have adopted. He wished the Bullitt and
+      Watson families each had a little girl like this. Still, if what she said
+      of William proved true, much had been gained and life might be tolerable,
+      after all.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He'll come in the afternoons, I guess,&rdquo; said Jane. &ldquo;But you aren't home
+      then, Mr. Parcher, except late like you were that day of the Sunday-school
+      class. It was on account of what you said that day. I told mamma.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Told your mamma what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What you said.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Parcher's perplexity continued. &ldquo;What about?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;About Willie. YOU know!&rdquo; Jane smiled fraternally.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I don't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was when I was layin' in the liberry, that day of the Sunday-school
+      class,&rdquo; Jane told him. &ldquo;You an' Mrs. Parcher was talkin' in there about
+      Miss Pratt an' Willie an' everything.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good heavens!&rdquo; Mr. Parcher, summoning his memory, had placed the occasion
+      and Jane together. &ldquo;Did you HEAR all that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo; Jane nodded. &ldquo;I told mamma all what you said.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Murder!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said Jane, &ldquo;I guess it's good I did, because look&mdash;that's the
+      very reason mamma did somep'm so's he can't come any more except in
+      daytime. I guess she thought Willie oughtn't to behave so's't you said so
+      many things about him like that; so to-day she did somep'm, an' now he
+      can't come any more to behave that loving way of Miss Pratt that you said
+      you would be in the lunatic asylum if he didn't quit. But he hasn't found
+      it out yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Found what out, please?&rdquo; asked Mr. Parcher, feeling more affection for
+      Jane every moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He hasn't found out he can't come back to your house to-night; an' he
+      can't come back to-morrow night, nor day-after-to-morrow night, nor&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it because your mamma is going to tell him he can't?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Mr. Parcher. Mamma says he's too old&mdash;an' she said she didn't
+      like to, anyway. She just DID somep'm.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What? What did she do?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's a secret,&rdquo; said Jane. &ldquo;I could tell you the first part of it&mdash;up
+      to where the secret begins, I expect.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do!&rdquo; Mr. Parcher urged.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, it's about somep'm Willie's been WEARIN',&rdquo; Jane began, moving
+      closer to him as they slowly walked onward. &ldquo;I can't tell you what they
+      were, because that's the secret&mdash;but he had 'em on him every evening
+      when he came to see Miss Pratt, but they belong to papa, an' papa doesn't
+      know a word about it. Well, one evening papa wanted to put 'em on, because
+      he had a right to, Mr. Parcher, an' Willie didn't have any right to at
+      all, but mamma couldn't find 'em; an' she rummidged an' rummidged 'most
+      all next day an' pretty near every day since then an' never did find 'em,
+      until don't you believe I saw Willie inside of 'em only last night! He was
+      startin' over to your house to see Miss Pratt in 'em! So I told mamma, an'
+      she said it 'd haf to be a secret, so that's why I can't tell you what
+      they were. Well, an' then this afternoon, early, I was with her, an' she
+      said, long as I had told her the secret in the first place, I could come
+      in Willie's room with her, an' we both were already in there anyway,
+      'cause I was kind of thinkin' maybe she'd go in there to look for 'em, Mr.
+      Parcher&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I see,&rdquo; he said, admiringly. &ldquo;I see.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, they were under Willie's window-seat, all folded up; an' mamma said
+      she wondered what she better do, an' she was worried because she didn't
+      like to have Willie behave so's you an' Mrs. Parcher thought that way
+      about him. So she said the&mdash;the secret&mdash;what Willie wears, you
+      know, but they're really papa's an' aren't Willie's any more'n they're
+      MINE&mdash;well, she said the secret was gettin' a little teeny bit too
+      tight for papa, but she guessed they&mdash;I mean the secret&mdash;she
+      said she guessed it was already pretty loose for Willie; so she wrapped it
+      up, an' I went with her, an' we took 'em to a tailor, an' she told him to
+      make 'em bigger, for a surprise for papa, 'cause then they'll fit him
+      again, Mr. Parcher. She said he must make 'em a whole lot bigger. She said
+      he must let 'em way, WAY out! So I guess Willie would look too funny in
+      'em after they're fixed; an' anyway, Mr. Parcher, the secret won't be home
+      from the tailor's for two weeks, an' maybe by that time Miss Pratt'll be
+      gone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They had reached Mr. Parcher's gate; he halted and looked down fondly upon
+      this child who seemed to have read his soul. &ldquo;Do you honestly think so?&rdquo;
+       he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, anyway, Mr. Parcher,&rdquo; said Jane, &ldquo;mamma said&mdash;well, she said
+      she's sure Willie wouldn't come here in the evening any more when YOU're
+      at home, Mr. Parcher&mdash;'cause after he'd been wearin' the secret every
+      night this way he wouldn't like to come and not have the secret on. Mamma
+      said the reason he would feel like that was because he was seventeen years
+      old. An' she isn't goin' to tell him anything about it, Mr. Parcher. She
+      said that's the best way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her new friend nodded and seemed to agree. &ldquo;I suppose that's what you
+      meant when you said he wasn't coming back but didn't know it yet?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Mr. Parcher.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He rested an elbow upon the gate-post, gazing down with ever-increasing
+      esteem. &ldquo;Of course I know your last name,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;but I'm afraid I've
+      forgotten your other one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's Jane.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Jane,&rdquo; said Mr. Parcher, &ldquo;I should like to do something for you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane looked down, and with eyes modestly lowered she swallowed the last
+      fragment of the bread-and-butter and apple sauce and sugar which had been
+      the constantly evanescent companion of their little walk together. She was
+      not mercenary; she had sought no reward.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I guess I must run home,&rdquo; she said. And with one lift of her eyes
+      to his and a shy laugh&mdash;laughter being a rare thing for Jane&mdash;she
+      scampered quickly to the corner and was gone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But though she cared for no reward, the extraordinary restlessness of
+      William, that evening, after dinner, must at least have been of great
+      interest to her. He ascended to his own room directly from the table, but
+      about twenty minutes later came down to the library, where Jane was
+      sitting (her privilege until half after seven) with her father and mother.
+      William looked from one to the other of his parents and seemed about to
+      speak, but did not do so. Instead, he departed for the upper floor again
+      and presently could be heard moving about energetically in various parts
+      of the house, a remote thump finally indicating that he was doing
+      something with a trunk in the attic.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After that he came down to the library again and once more seemed about to
+      speak, but did not. Then he went up-stairs again, and came down again, and
+      he was still repeating this process when Jane's time-limit was reached and
+      she repaired conscientiously to her little bed. Her mother came to hear
+      her prayers and to turn out the light; and&mdash;when Mrs. Baxter had
+      passed out into the hall, after that, Jane heard her speaking to William,
+      who was now conducting what seemed to be excavations on a serious scale in
+      his own room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Willie, perhaps I didn't tell you, but&mdash;you remember I'd been
+      missing papa's evening clothes and looking everywhere for days and days?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ye&mdash;es,&rdquo; huskily from William.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I found them! And where do you suppose I'd put them? I found them
+      under your window-seat. Can you think of anything more absurd than putting
+      them there and then forgetting it? I took them to the tailor's to have
+      them let out. They were getting too tight for papa, but they'll be all
+      right for him when the tailor sends them back.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      What the stricken William gathered from this it is impossible to state
+      with accuracy; probably he mixed some perplexity with his emotions.
+      Certainly he was perplexed the following evening at dinner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane did not appear at the table. &ldquo;Poor child! she's sick in bed,&rdquo; Mrs.
+      Baxter explained to her husband. &ldquo;I was out, this afternoon, and she ate
+      nearly ALL of a five-pound box of candy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Both the sad-eyed William and his father were dumfounded. &ldquo;Where on earth
+      did she get a five-pound box of candy?&rdquo; Mr. Baxter demanded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm afraid Jane has begun her first affair,&rdquo; said Mrs. Baxter. &ldquo;A
+      gentleman sent it to her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What gentleman?&rdquo; gasped William.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And in his mother's eyes, as they slowly came to rest on his in reply, he
+      was aware of an inscrutability strongly remindful of that inscrutable look
+      of Jane's.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Parcher,&rdquo; she said, gently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      XII
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      PROGRESS OF THE SYMPTOMS
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. BAXTER'S little stroke of diplomacy had gone straight to the mark,
+      she was a woman of insight. For every reason she was well content to have
+      her son spend his evenings at home, though it cannot be claimed that his
+      presence enlivened the household, his condition being one of strange,
+      trancelike irascibility. Evening after evening passed, while he sat
+      dreaming painfully of Mr. Parcher's porch; but in the daytime, though
+      William did not literally make hay while the sun shone, he at least
+      gathered a harvest somewhat resembling hay in general character.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thus:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One afternoon, having locked his door to secure himself against intrusion
+      on the part of his mother or Jane, William seated himself at his
+      writing-table, and from a drawer therein took a small cardboard box, which
+      he uncovered, placing the contents in view before him upon the table. (How
+      meager, how chilling a word is &ldquo;contents&rdquo;!) In the box were:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A faded rose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Several other faded roses, disintegrated into leaves.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Three withered &ldquo;four-leaf clovers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A white ribbon still faintly smelling of violets.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A small silver shoe-buckle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A large pearl button.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A small pearl button.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A tortoise-shell hair-pin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A cross-section from the heel of a small slipper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A stringy remnant, probably once an improvised wreath of daisies.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Four or five withered dandelions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Other dried vegetation, of a nature now indistinguishable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      William gazed reverently upon this junk of precious souvenirs; then from
+      the inner pocket of his coat he brought forth, warm and crumpled, a
+      lumpish cluster of red geranium blossoms, still aromatic and not quite
+      dead, though naturally, after three hours of such intimate confinement,
+      they wore an unmistakable look of suffering. With a tenderness which his
+      family had never observed in him since that piteous day in his fifth year
+      when he tried to mend his broken doll, William laid the geranium blossoms
+      in the cardboard box among the botanical and other relics.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His gentle eyes showed what the treasures meant to him, and yet it was
+      strange that they should have meant so much, because the source of supply
+      was not more than a quarter of a mile distant, and practically
+      inexhaustible. Miss Pratt had now been a visitor at the Parchers' for
+      something less than five weeks, but she had made no mention of prospective
+      departure, and there was every reason to suppose that she meant to remain
+      all summer. And as any foliage or anything whatever that she touched, or
+      that touched her, was thenceforth suitable for William's museum, there
+      appeared to be some probability that autumn might see it so enlarged as to
+      lack that rarity in the component items which is the underlying value of
+      most collections.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      William's writing-table was beside an open window, through which came an
+      insistent whirring, unagreeable to his mood; and, looking down upon the
+      sunny lawn, he beheld three lowly creatures. One was Genesis; he was
+      cutting the grass. Another was Clematis; he had assumed a transient
+      attitude, curiously triangular, in order to scratch his ear, the while his
+      anxious eyes never wavered from the third creature.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This was Jane. In one hand she held a little stack of sugar-sprinkled
+      wafers, which she slowly but steadily depleted, unconscious of the
+      increasingly earnest protest, at last nearing agony, in the eyes of
+      Clematis. Wearing unaccustomed garments of fashion and festivity, Jane
+      stood, in speckless, starchy white and a blue sash, watching the
+      lawn-mower spout showers of grass as the powerful Genesis easily propelled
+      it along over lapping lanes, back and forth, across the yard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      From a height of illimitable loftiness the owner of the cardboard treasury
+      looked down upon the squat commonplaceness of those three lives. The
+      condition of Jane and Genesis and Clematis seemed almost laughably
+      pitiable to him, the more so because they were unaware of it. They
+      breathed not the starry air that William breathed, but what did it matter
+      to them? The wretched things did not even know that they meant nothing to
+      Miss Pratt!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Clematis found his ear too pliable for any great solace from his foot, but
+      he was not disappointed; he had expected little, and his thoughts were
+      elsewhere. Rising, he permitted his nose to follow his troubled eyes, with
+      the result that it touched the rim of the last wafer in Jane's external
+      possession.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This incident annoyed William. &ldquo;Look there!&rdquo; he called from the window.
+      &ldquo;You mean to eat that cake after the dog's had his face on it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane remained placid. &ldquo;It wasn't his face.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, if it wasn't his face, I'd like to know what&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It wasn't his face,&rdquo; Jane repeated. &ldquo;It was his nose. It wasn't all of
+      his nose touched it, either. It was only a little outside piece of his
+      nose.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, are you going to eat that cake, I ask you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane broke off a small bit of the wafer. She gave the bit to Clematis and
+      slowly ate what remained, continuing to watch Genesis and apparently
+      unconscious of the scorching gaze from the window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I never saw anything as disgusting as long as I've lived!&rdquo; William
+      announced. &ldquo;I wouldn't 'a' believed it if anybody'd told me a sister of
+      mine would eat after&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I didn't,&rdquo; said Jane. &ldquo;I like Clematis, anyway.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ye gods!&rdquo; her brother cried. &ldquo;Do you think that makes it any better? And,
+      BY the WAY,&rdquo; he continued, in a tone of even greater severity, &ldquo;I'd a like
+      to know where you got those cakes. Where'd you get 'em, I'd just like to
+      inquire?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In the pantry.&rdquo; Jane turned and moved toward the house. &ldquo;I'm goin' in for
+      some more, now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      William uttered a cry; these little cakes were sacred. His mother, growing
+      curious to meet a visiting lady of whom (so to speak) she had heard much
+      and thought more, had asked May Parcher to bring her guest for iced tea,
+      that afternoon. A few others of congenial age had been invited: there was
+      to be a small matinee, in fact, for the honor and pleasure of the son of
+      the house, and the cakes of Jane's onslaught were part of Mrs. Baxter's
+      preparations. There was no telling where Jane would stop; it was
+      conceivable that Miss Pratt herself might go waferless.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      William returned the cardboard box to its drawer with reverent haste;
+      then, increasing the haste, but dropping the reverence, he hied himself to
+      the pantry with such advantage of longer legs that within the minute he
+      and the wafers appeared in conjunction before his mother, who was
+      arranging fruit and flowers upon a table in the &ldquo;living-room.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      William entered in the stained-glass attitude of one bearing gifts.
+      Overhead, both hands supported a tin pan, well laden with small cakes and
+      wafers, for which Jane was silently but repeatedly and systematically
+      jumping. Even under the stress of these efforts her expression was cool
+      and collected; she maintained the self-possession that was characteristic
+      of her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Not so with William; his cheeks were flushed, his eyes indignant. &ldquo;You see
+      what this child is doing?&rdquo; he demanded. &ldquo;Are you going to let her ruin
+      everything?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ruin?&rdquo; Mrs. Baxter repeated, absently, refreshing with fair water a bowl
+      of flowers upon the table. &ldquo;Ruin?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, ruin!&rdquo; William was hotly emphatic, &ldquo;If you don't do something with
+      her it 'll all be ruined before Miss Pr&mdash; before they even get here!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Baxter laughed. &ldquo;Set the pan down, Willie.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Set it DOWN?&rdquo; he echoed, incredulously &ldquo;With that child in the room and
+      grabbing like&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There!&rdquo; Mrs. Baxter took the pan from him, placed it upon a chair, and
+      with the utmost coolness selected five wafers and gave them to Jane. &ldquo;I'd
+      already promised her she could have five more. You know the doctor said
+      Jane's digestion was the finest he'd ever misunderstood. They won't hurt
+      her at all, Willie.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This deliberate misinterpretation of his motives made it difficult for
+      William to speak. &ldquo;Do YOU think,&rdquo; he began, hoarsely, &ldquo;do you THINK&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They're so small, too,&rdquo; Mrs. Baxter went on. &ldquo;SHE probably wouldn't be
+      sick if she ate them all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My heavens!&rdquo; he burst forth. &ldquo;Do you think I was worrying about&mdash;&rdquo;
+       He broke off, unable to express himself save by a few gestures of despair.
+      Again finding his voice, and a great deal of it, he demanded: &ldquo;Do you
+      realize that Miss PRATT will be here within less than half an hour? What
+      do you suppose she'd think of the people of this town if she was invited
+      out, expecting decent treatment, and found two-thirds of the cakes eaten
+      up before she got there, and what was left of 'em all mauled and pawed
+      over and crummy and chewed-up lookin' from some wretched CHILD?&rdquo; Here
+      William became oratorical, but not with marked effect, since Jane regarded
+      him with unmoved eyes, while Mrs. Baxter continued to be mildly
+      preoccupied in arranging the table. In fact, throughout this episode in
+      controversy the ladies' party had not only the numerical but the emotional
+      advantage. Obviously, the approach of Miss Pratt was not to them what it
+      was to William. &ldquo;I tell you,&rdquo; he declaimed;&mdash;&ldquo;yes, I tell you that it
+      wouldn't take much of this kind of thing to make Miss Pratt think the
+      people of this town were&mdash;well, it wouldn't take much to make her
+      think the people of this town hadn't learned much of how to behave in
+      society and were pretty uncilivized!&rdquo; He corrected himself. &ldquo;Uncivilized!
+      And to think Miss Pratt has to find that out in MY house! To think&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, Willie,&rdquo; said Mrs. Baxter, gently, &ldquo;you'd better go up and brush
+      your hair again before your friends come. You mustn't let yourself get so
+      excited.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Excited!'&rdquo; he cried, incredulously. &ldquo;Do you think I'm EXCITED? Ye gods!&rdquo;
+       He smote his hands together and, in his despair of her intelligence, would
+      have flung himself down upon a chair, but was arrested half-way by
+      simultaneous loud outcries from his mother and Jane.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't sit on the CAKES!&rdquo; they both screamed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Saving himself and the pan of wafers by a supreme contortion at the last
+      instant, William decided to remain upon his feet. &ldquo;What do I care for the
+      cakes?&rdquo; he demanded, contemptuously, beginning to pace the floor. &ldquo;It's
+      the question of principle I'm talking about! Do you think it's right to
+      give the people of this town a poor name when strangers like Miss PRATT
+      come to vis&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Willie!&rdquo; His mother looked at him hopelessly. &ldquo;Do go and brush your hair.
+      If you could see how you've tousled it you would.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He gave her a dazed glance and strode from the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane looked after him placidly. &ldquo;Didn't he talk funny!&rdquo; she murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, dear,&rdquo; said Mrs. Baxter. She shook her head and uttered the
+      enigmatic words, &ldquo;They do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I mean Willie, mamma,&rdquo; said Jane. &ldquo;If it's anything about Miss Pratt. he
+      always talks awful funny. Don't you think Willie talks awful funny if it's
+      anything about Miss Pratt, mamma?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, but&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What, mamma?&rdquo; Jane asked as her mother paused.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well&mdash;it happens. People do get like that at his age, Jane.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Does everybody?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I suppose not everybody. Just some.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane's interest was roused. &ldquo;Well, do those that do, mamma,&rdquo; she inquired,
+      &ldquo;do they all act like Willie?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Mrs. Baxter. &ldquo;That's the trouble; you can't tell what's
+      coming.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane nodded. &ldquo;I think I know,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;You mean Willie&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      William himself interrupted her. He returned violently to the doorway, his
+      hair still tousled, and, standing upon the threshold, said, sternly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is that child wearing her best dress for?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Willie!&rdquo; Mrs. Baxter cried. &ldquo;Go brush your hair!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish to know what that child is all dressed up for?&rdquo; he insisted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To please you! Don't you want her to look her best at your tea?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought that was it!&rdquo; he cried, and upon this confirmation of his worst
+      fears he did increased violence to his rumpled hair. &ldquo;I suspected it, but
+      I wouldn't 'a' believed it! You mean to let this child&mdash;you mean to
+      let&mdash;&rdquo; Here his agitation affected his throat and his utterance
+      became clouded. A few detached phrases fell from him: &ldquo;&mdash;Invite MY
+      friends&mdash;children's party&mdash;ye gods!&mdash;think Miss Pratt plays
+      dolls&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Jane will be very good,&rdquo; his mother said. &ldquo;I shouldn't think of not
+      having her, Willie, and you needn't bother about your friends; they'll be
+      very glad to see her. They all know her, except Miss Pratt, perhaps, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+       Mrs. Baxter paused; then she asked, absently: &ldquo;By the way, haven't I heard
+      somewhere that she likes pretending to be a little girl, herself?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;WHAT!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Mrs. Baxter, remaining calm; &ldquo;I'm sure I've heard somewhere
+      that she likes to talk 'baby-talk.'&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Upon this a tremor passed over William, after which he became rigid. &ldquo;You
+      ask a lady to your house,&rdquo; he began, &ldquo;and even before she gets here,
+      before you've even seen her, you pass judgment upon one of the&mdash;one
+      of the noblest&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good gracious! <i>I</i> haven't 'passed judgment.' If she does talk
+      'baby-talk,' I imagine she does it very prettily, and I'm sure I've no
+      objection. And if she does do it, why should you be insulted by my
+      mentioning it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was the way you said it,&rdquo; he informed her, icily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good gracious! I just said it!&rdquo; Mrs. Baxter laughed, and then, probably a
+      little out of patience with him, she gave way to that innate
+      mischievousness in such affairs which is not unknown to her sex. &ldquo;You see,
+      Willie, if she pretends to be a cunning little girl, it will be helpful to
+      Jane to listen and learn how.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      William uttered a cry; he knew that he was struck, but he was not sure how
+      or where. He was left with a blank mind and no repartee. Again he dashed
+      from the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the hall, near the open front door, he came to a sudden halt, and Mrs.
+      Baxter and Jane heard him calling loudly to the industrious Genesis:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here! You go cut the grass in the back yard, and for Heaven's sake, take
+      that dog with you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Grass awready cut roun' back,&rdquo; responded the amiable voice of Genesis,
+      while the lawnmower ceased not to whir. &ldquo;Cut all 'at back yod 's mawnin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, you can't cut the front yard now. Go around in the back yard and
+      take that dog with you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nemmine 'bout 'at back yod! Ole Clem ain' trouble nobody.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You hear what I tell you?&rdquo; William shouted. &ldquo;You do what I say and you do
+      it quick!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Genesis laughed gaily. &ldquo;I got my grass to cut!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You decline to do what I command you?&rdquo; William roared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, indeedy! Who pay me my wages? 'At's MY boss. You' ma say, 'Genesis,
+      you git all 'at lawn mowed b'fo' sundown.' No, suh! Nee'n' was'e you' bref
+      on me, 'cause I'm got all MY time good an' took up!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Once more William presented himself fatefully to his mother and Jane. &ldquo;May
+      I just kindly ask you to look out in the front yard?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm familiar with it, Willie,&rdquo; Mrs. Baxter returned, a little wearily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I mean I want you to look at Genesis.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm familiar with his appearance, too,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Why in the world do
+      you mind his cutting the grass?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      William groaned. &ldquo;Do you honestly want guests coming to this house to see
+      that awful old darky out there and know that HE'S the kind of servants we
+      employ? Ye gods!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Genesis is just a neighborhood outdoors darky, Willie; he works for
+      half a dozen families besides us. Everybody in this part of town knows
+      him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he cried, &ldquo;but a lady that didn't live here wouldn't. Ye gods! What
+      do you suppose she WOULD think? You know what he's got on!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's a sort of sleeveless jersey he wears, Willie, I think.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, you DON'T think that!&rdquo; he cried, with great bitterness. &ldquo;You know
+      it's not a jersey! You know perfectly well what it is, and yet you expect
+      to keep him out there when&mdash;when one of the one of the nobl&mdash;when
+      my friends arrive! And they'll think that's our DOG out there, won't they?
+      When intelligent people come to a house and see a dog sitting out in
+      front, they think it's the family in the house's dog, don't they?&rdquo;
+       William's condition becoming more and more disordered, he paced the room,
+      while his agony rose to a climax. &ldquo;Ye gods! What do you think Miss Pratt
+      will think of the people of this town, when she's invited to meet a few of
+      my friends and the first thing she sees is a nigger in his undershirt?
+      What 'll she think when she finds that child's eaten up half the food, and
+      the people have to explain that the dog in the front yard belongs to the
+      darky&mdash;&rdquo; He interrupted himself with a groan: &ldquo;And prob'ly she
+      wouldn't believe it. Anybody'd SAY they didn't own a dog like that! And
+      that's what you want her to see, before she even gets inside the house!
+      Instead of a regular gardener in livery like we ought to have, and a
+      bulldog or a good Airedale or a fox-hound, or something, the first things
+      you want intelligent people from out of town to see are that awful old
+      darky and his mongrel scratchin' fleas and like as not lettin' 'em get on
+      other people! THAT'd be nice, wouldn't it? Go out to tea expecting decent
+      treatment and get fl&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;WILLIE!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Baxter managed to obtain his attention. &ldquo;If you'll go and brush your
+      hair I'll send Genesis and Clematis away for the rest of the afternoon.
+      And then if you 'll sit down quietly and try to keep cool until your
+      friends get here, I'll&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Quietly'!&rdquo; he echoed, shaking his head over this mystery. &ldquo;I'm the only
+      one that IS quiet around here. Things 'd be in a fine condition to receive
+      guests if I didn't keep pretty cool, I guess!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, there,&rdquo; she said, soothingly. &ldquo;Go and brush your hair. And change
+      your collar, Willie; it's all wilted. I'll send Genesis away.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His wandering eye failed to meet hers with any intelligence. &ldquo;Collar,&rdquo; he
+      muttered, as if in soliloquy. &ldquo;Collar.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Change it!&rdquo; said Mrs. Baxter, raising her voice. &ldquo;It's WILTED.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He departed in a dazed manner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Passing through the hall, he paused abruptly, his eye having fallen with
+      sudden disapproval upon a large, heavily framed, glass-covered engraving,
+      &ldquo;The Battle of Gettysburg,&rdquo; which hung upon the wall, near the front door.
+      Undeniably, it was a picture feeble in decorative quality; no doubt, too,
+      William was right in thinking it as unworthy of Miss Pratt, as were Jane
+      and Genesis and Clematis. He felt that she must never see it, especially
+      as the frame had been chipped and had a corner broken, but it was more
+      pleasantly effective where he found it than where (in his nervousness) he
+      left it. A few hasty jerks snapped the elderly green cords by which it was
+      suspended; then he laid the picture upon the floor and with his
+      handkerchief made a curious labyrinth of avenues in the large oblong area
+      of fine dust which this removal disclosed upon the wall. Pausing to wipe
+      his hot brow with the same implement, he remembered that some one had made
+      allusions to his collar and hair, whereupon he sprang to the stairs,
+      mounted two at a time, rushed into his own room, and confronted his
+      streaked image in the mirror.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      XIII
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      AT HOME TO HIS FRIENDS
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      After ablutions, he found his wet hair plastic, and easily obtained the
+      long, even sweep backward from the brow, lacking which no male person,
+      unless bald, fulfilled his definition of a man of the world. But there
+      ensued a period of vehemence and activity caused by a bent collar-button,
+      which went on strike with a desperation that was downright savage. The day
+      was warm and William was warmer; moisture bedewed him afresh. Belated
+      victory no sooner arrived than he perceived a fatal dimpling of the new
+      collar, and was forced to begin the operation of exchanging it for a
+      successor. Another exchange, however, he unfortunately forgot to make: the
+      handkerchief with which he had wiped the wall remained in his pocket.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Voices from below, making polite laughter, warned him that already some of
+      the bidden party had arrived, and, as he completed the fastening of his
+      third consecutive collar, an ecstasy of sound reached him through the open
+      window&mdash;and then, Oh then! his breath behaved in an abnormal manner
+      and he began to tremble. It was the voice of Miss Pratt, no less!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He stopped for one heart-struck look from his casement. All in fluffy
+      white and heliotrope she was&mdash;a blonde rapture floating over the
+      sidewalk toward William's front gate. Her little white cottony dog, with a
+      heliotrope ribbon round his neck, bobbed his head over her cuddling arm; a
+      heliotrope parasol shielded her infinitesimally from the amorous sun. Poor
+      William!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Two youths entirely in William's condition of heart accompanied the
+      glamorous girl and hung upon her rose-leaf lips, while Miss Parcher
+      appeared dimly upon the outskirts of the group, the well-known penalty for
+      hostesses who entertain such radiance. Probably it serves them right.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To William's reddening ear Miss Pratt's voice came clearly as the chiming
+      of tiny bells, for she spoke whimsically to her little dog in that
+      tinkling childlike fashion which was part of the spell she cast.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Darlin' Flopit,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;wake up! Oo tummin' to tea-potty wiz all de
+      drowed-ups. P'eshus Flopit, wake up!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Dizzy with enchantment, half suffocated, his heart melting within him,
+      William turned from the angelic sounds and fairy vision of the window. He
+      ran out of the room, and plunged down the front stairs. And the next
+      moment the crash of breaking glass and the loud thump-bump of a heavily
+      falling human body resounded through the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Baxter, alarmed, quickly excused herself from the tea-table, round
+      which were gathered four or five young people, and hastened to the front
+      hall, followed by Jane. Through the open door were seen Miss Pratt, Miss
+      Parcher, Mr. Johnnie Watson and Mr. Joe Bullitt coming leisurely up the
+      sunny front walk, laughing and unaware of the catastrophe which had just
+      occurred within the shadows of the portal. And at a little distance from
+      the foot of the stairs William was seated upon the prostrate &ldquo;Battle of
+      Gettysburg.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It slid,&rdquo; he said, hoarsely. &ldquo;I carried it upstairs with me&rdquo;&mdash;he
+      believed this&mdash;&ldquo;and somebody brought it down and left it lying flat
+      on the floor by the bottom step on purpose to trip me! I stepped on it and
+      it slid.&rdquo; He was in a state of shock: it seemed important to impress upon
+      his mother the fact that the picture had not remained firmly in place when
+      he stepped upon it. &ldquo;It SLID, I tell you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Get up, Willie!&rdquo; she urged, under her breath, and as he summoned enough
+      presence of mind to obey, she beheld ruins other than the wrecked
+      engraving. She stifled a cry. &ldquo;WILLIE! Did the glass cut you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He felt himself. &ldquo;No'm.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It did your trousers! You'll have to change them. Hurry!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Some of William's normal faculties were restored to him by one hasty
+      glance at the back of his left leg, which had a dismantled appearance. A
+      long blue strip of cloth hung there, with white showing underneath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;HURRY!&rdquo; said Mrs. Baxter. And hastily gathering some fragments of glass,
+      she dropped them upon the engraving, pushed it out of the way, and went
+      forward to greet Miss Pratt and her attendants.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As for William, he did not even pause to close his mouth, but fled with it
+      open. Upward he sped, unseen, and came to a breathless halt upon the
+      landing at the top of the stairs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As it were in a dream he heard his mother's hospitable greetings at the
+      door, and then the little party lingered in the hall, detained by Miss
+      Pratt's discovery of Jane.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, tweetums tootums ickle dirl!&rdquo; he heard the ravishing voice exclaim.
+      &ldquo;Oh, tootums ickle blue sash!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It cost a dollar and eighty-nine cents,&rdquo; said Jane. &ldquo;Willie sat on the
+      cakes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh no, he didn't,&rdquo; Mrs. Baxter laughed. &ldquo;He didn't QUITE!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He had to go up-stairs,&rdquo; said Jane. And as the stricken listener above
+      smote his forehead, she added placidly, &ldquo;He tore a hole in his clo'es.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She seemed about to furnish details, her mood being communicative, but
+      Mrs. Baxter led the way into the &ldquo;living-room&rdquo;; the hall was vacated, and
+      only the murmur of voices and laughter reached William. What descriptive
+      information Jane may have added was spared his hearing, which was a mercy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And yet it may be that he could not have felt worse than he did; for there
+      IS nothing worse than to be seventeen and to hear one of the Noblest girls
+      in the world told by a little child that you sat on the cakes and tore a
+      hole in your clo'es.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      William leaned upon the banister railing and thought thoughts about Jane.
+      For several long, seething moments he thought of her exclusively. Then,
+      spurred by the loud laughter of rivals and the agony of knowing that even
+      in his own house they were monopolizing the attention of one of the
+      Noblest, he hastened into his own, room and took account of his reverses.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Standing with his back to the mirror, he obtained over his shoulder a view
+      of his trousers which caused him to break out in a fresh perspiration.
+      Again he wiped his forehead with the handkerchief, and the result was
+      instantly visible in the mirror.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The air thickened with sounds of frenzy, followed by a torrential roar and
+      great sputterings in a bath-room, which tumult subsiding, William returned
+      at a tragic gallop to his room and, having removed his trousers, began a
+      feverish examination of the garments hanging in a clothes-closet. There
+      were two pairs of flannel trousers which would probably again be white and
+      possible, when cleaned and pressed, but a glance showed that until then
+      they were not to be considered as even the last resort of desperation.
+      Beside them hung his &ldquo;last year's summer suit&rdquo; of light gray.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Feverishly he brought it forth, threw off his coat, and then&mdash;deflected
+      by another glance at the mirror&mdash;began to change his collar again.
+      This was obviously necessary, and to quicken the process he decided to
+      straighten the bent collar-button. Using a shoe-horn as a lever, he
+      succeeded in bringing the little cap or head of the button into its proper
+      plane, but, unfortunately, his final effort dislodged the cap from the rod
+      between it and the base, and it flew off malignantly into space. Here was
+      a calamity; few things are more useless than a decapitated collar-button,
+      and William had no other. He had made sure that it was his last before he
+      put it on, that day; also he had ascertained that there was none in, on,
+      or about his father's dressing-table. Finally, in the possession of
+      neither William nor his father was there a shirt with an indigenous
+      collar.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For decades, collar-buttons have been on the hand-me-down shelves of
+      humor; it is a mistake in the catalogue. They belong to pathos. They have
+      done harm in the world, and there have been collar-buttons that failed
+      when the destinies of families hung upon them. There have been
+      collar-buttons that thwarted proper matings. There have been
+      collar-buttons that bore last hopes, and, falling to the floor, NEVER were
+      found! William's broken collar-button was really the only collar-button in
+      the house, except such as were engaged in serving his male guests below.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At first he did not realize the extent of his misfortune. How could he?
+      Fate is always expected to deal its great blows in the grand manner. But
+      our expectations are fustian spangled with pinchbeck; we look for tragedy
+      to be theatrical. Meanwhile, every day before our eyes, fate works on,
+      employing for its instruments the infinitesimal, the ignoble and the petty&mdash;in
+      a word, collar-buttons.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Of course William searched his dressing-table and his father's, although
+      he had been thoroughly over both once before that day. Next he went
+      through most of his mother's and Jane's accessories to the toilette;
+      through trinket-boxes, glove-boxes, hairpin-boxes, handkerchief-cases&mdash;even
+      through sewing-baskets. Utterly he convinced himself that ladies not only
+      use no collar-buttons, but also never pick them up and put them away among
+      their own belongings. How much time he consumed in this search is
+      difficult to reckon;&mdash;it is almost impossible to believe that there
+      is absolutely no collar-button in a house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And what William's state of mind had become is matter for exorbitant
+      conjecture. Jane, arriving at his locked door upon an errand, was bidden
+      by a thick, unnatural voice to depart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mamma says, 'What in mercy's name is the matter?'&rdquo; Jane called. &ldquo;She
+      whispered to me, 'Go an' see what in mercy's name is the matter with
+      Willie; an' if the glass cut him, after all; an' why don't he come down';
+      an' why don't you, Willie? We're all havin' the nicest time!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You g'way!&rdquo; said the strange voice within the room. &ldquo;G'way!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, did the glass cut you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No! Keep quiet! G'way!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, are you EVER comin' down to your party?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I am! G'way!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane obeyed, and William somehow completed the task upon which he was
+      engaged. Genius had burst forth from his despair; necessity had become a
+      mother again, and William's collar was in place. It was tied there. Under
+      his necktie was a piece of string.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had lost count of time, but he was frantically aware of its passage;
+      agony was in the thought of so many rich moments frittered away;
+      up-stairs, while Joe Bullitt and Johnnie Watson made hay below. And there
+      was another spur to haste in his fear that the behavior of Mrs. Baxter
+      might not be all that the guest of honor would naturally expect of
+      William's mother. As for Jane, his mind filled with dread; shivers passed
+      over him at intervals.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was a dismal thing to appear at a &ldquo;party&rdquo; (and that his own) in &ldquo;last
+      summer's suit,&rdquo; but when he had hastily put it on and faced the mirror, he
+      felt a little better&mdash;for three or four seconds. Then he turned to
+      see how the back of it looked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And collapsed in a chair, moaning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0017" id="link2H_4_0017">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      XIV
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      TIME DOES FLY
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      He remembered now what he had been too hurried to remember earlier. He had
+      worn these clothes on the previous Saturday, and, returning from a
+      glorified walk with Miss Pratt, he had demonstrated a fact to which his
+      near-demolition of the wafers, this afternoon, was additional testimony.
+      This fact, roughly stated, is that a person of seventeen, in love, is
+      liable to sit down anywhere. William had dreamily seated himself upon a
+      tabouret in the library, without noticing that Jane had left her open
+      paint-box there. Jane had just been painting sunsets; naturally all the
+      little blocks of color were wet, and the effect upon William's pale-gray
+      trousers was marvelous&mdash;far beyond the capacity of his coat to
+      conceal. Collar-buttons and children's paint-boxes&mdash;those are the
+      trolls that lie in wait!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The gray clothes and the flannel trousers had been destined for the
+      professional cleaner, and William, rousing himself from a brief stupor,
+      made a piteous effort to substitute himself for that expert so far as the
+      gray trousers were concerned. He divested himself of them and brought
+      water, towels, bath-soap, and a rubber bath-sponge to the bright light of
+      his window; and; there, with touching courage and persistence, he tried to
+      scrub the paint out of the cloth. He obtained cloud studies and marines
+      which would have interested a Post-Impressionist, but upon trousers they
+      seemed out of place.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There came one seeking and calling him again; raps sounded upon the door,
+      which he had not forgotten to lock.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Willie,&rdquo; said a serious voice, &ldquo;mamma wants to know what in mercy's name
+      is the matter! She wants to know if you know for mercy's name what time it
+      is! She wants to know what in mercy's name you think they're all goin' to
+      think! She says&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;G'WAY!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, she said I had to find out what in mercy's name you're doin',
+      Willie.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You tell her,&rdquo; he shouted, hoarsely&mdash;&ldquo;tell her I'm playin' dominoes!
+      What's she THINK I'm doin'?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I guess&rdquo;&mdash;Jane paused, evidently to complete the swallowing of
+      something&mdash;&ldquo;I guess she thinks you're goin' crazy. I don't like Miss
+      Pratt, but she lets me play with that little dog. It's name's Flopit!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You go 'way from that door and stop bothering me,&rdquo; said William. &ldquo;I got
+      enough on my mind!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mamma looks at Miss Pratt,&rdquo; Jane remarked. &ldquo;Miss Pratt puts cakes in that
+      Mr. Bullitt's mouth and Johnnie Watson's mouth, too. She's awful.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      William made it plain that these bulletins from the party found no favor
+      with him. He bellowed, &ldquo;If you don't get away from that DOOR&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane was interested in the conversation, but felt that it would be better
+      to return to the refreshment-table. There she made use of her own
+      conception of a whisper to place before her mother a report which was
+      considered interesting and even curious by every one present; though, such
+      was the courtesy of the little assembly, there was a general pretense of
+      not hearing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I told him,&rdquo; thus whispered Jane, &ldquo;an' he said, 'You g'way from that door
+      or I'll do somep'm'&mdash;he didn't say what, mamma. He said, 'What you
+      think I'm doin'? I'm playin' dominoes.' He didn't mean he WAS playin'
+      dominoes, mamma. He just said he was. I think maybe he was just lookin' in
+      the lookin'-glass some more.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Baxter was becoming embarrassed. She resolved to go to William's room
+      herself at the first opportunity; but for some time her conscientiousness
+      as a hostess continued to occupy her at the table, and then, when she
+      would have gone, Miss Pratt detained her by a roguish appeal to make Mr.
+      Bullitt and Mr. Watson behave. Both refused all nourishment except such as
+      was placed in their mouths by the delicate hand of one of the Noblest, and
+      the latter said that really she wanted to eat a little tweetie now and
+      then herself, and not to spend her whole time feeding the Men. For Miss
+      Pratt had the same playfulness with older people that she had with those
+      of her own age; and she elaborated her pretended quarrel with the two
+      young gentlemen, taking others of the dazzled company into her confidence
+      about it, and insisting upon &ldquo;Mamma Batster's&rdquo; acting formally as judge to
+      settle the difficulty. However, having thus arranged matters, Miss Pratt
+      did not resign the center of interest, but herself proposed a compromise:
+      she would continue to feed Mr. Bullitt and Mr. Watson &ldquo;every other
+      tweetie&rdquo;&mdash;that is, each must agree to eat a cake &ldquo;all by him own
+      self,&rdquo; after every cake fed to him. So the comedietta went on, to the
+      running accompaniment of laughter, with Mr. Bullitt and Mr. Watson swept
+      by such gusts of adoration they were like to perish where they sat. But
+      Mrs. Baxter's smiling approval was beginning to be painful to the muscles
+      of her face, for it was hypocritical. And if William had known her
+      thoughts about one of the Noblest, he could only have attributed them to
+      that demon of groundless prejudice which besets all females, but most
+      particularly and outrageously the mothers and sisters of Men.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A colored serving-maid entered with a laden tray, and, having disposed of
+      its freight of bon-bons among the guests, spoke to Mrs. Baxter in a low
+      voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Could you manage step in the back hall a minute, please, ma'am?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Baxter managed and, having closed the door upon the laughing voices,
+      asked, quickly&mdash;&ldquo;What is it, Adelia? Have you seen Mr. William? Do
+      you know why he doesn't come down?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm,&rdquo; said Adelia. &ldquo;He gone mighty near out his head, Miz Baxter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm. He come floppin' down the back stairs in his baf-robe li'l' while
+      ago. He jes' gone up again. He 'ain't got no britches, Miz Baxter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No WHAT?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No'm,&rdquo; said Adelia. &ldquo;He 'ain't got no britches at all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A statement of this kind is startling under Almost any circumstances, and
+      it is unusually so when made in reference to a person for whom a party is
+      being given. Therefore it was not unreasonable of Mrs. Baxter to lose her
+      breath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But&mdash;it can't BE!&rdquo; she gasped. &ldquo;He has! He has plenty!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No'm, he 'ain't,&rdquo; Adelia assured her. &ldquo;An' he's carryin' on so I don't
+      scarcely think he knows much what he's doin', Miz Baxter. He brung down
+      some gray britches to the kitchen to see if I couldn' press an' clean 'em
+      right quick: they was the ones Miss Jane, when she's paintin' all them
+      sunsets, lef' her paint-box open, an' one them sunsets got on these here
+      gray britches, Miz Baxter; an' hones'ly, Miz Baxter, he's fixed 'em in a
+      condishum, tryin' to git that paint out, I don't believe it 'll be no use
+      sendin' 'em to the cleaner. 'Clean 'em an' press 'em QUICK?' I says. 'I
+      couldn' clean 'em by Resurreckshum, let alone pressin' 'em!' No'm! Well,
+      he had his blue britches, too, but they's so ripped an' tore an' kind o'
+      shredded away in one place, the cook she jes' hollered when he spread 'em
+      out, an' he didn' even ast me could I mend 'em. An' he had two pairs o'
+      them white flannen britches, but hones'ly, Miz Baxter, I don't scarcely
+      think Genesis would wear 'em, the way they is now! 'Well,' I says, 'ain't
+      but one thing lef' to do <i>I</i> can see,' I says. 'Why don't you go put
+      on that nice black suit you had las' winter?'&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course!&rdquo; Mrs. Baxter cried. &ldquo;I'll go and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No'm,&rdquo; said Adelia. &ldquo;You don' need to. He's up in the attic now, r'arin'
+      roun' 'mongs' them trunks, but seem to me like I remember you put that
+      suit away under the heavy blankets in that big cedar ches' with the
+      padlock. If you jes' tell me where is the key, I take it up to him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Under the bureau in the spare room,&rdquo; said Mrs. Baxter. &ldquo;HURRY!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Adelia hurried; and, fifteen minutes later, William, for the last time
+      that afternoon, surveyed himself in his mirror. His face showed the strain
+      that had been upon him and under which he still labored; the black suit
+      was a map of creases, and William was perspiring more freely than ever
+      under the heavy garments. But at least he was clothed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He emptied his pockets, disgorging upon the floor a multitude of small
+      white spheres, like marbles. Then, as he stepped out into the hall, he
+      discovered that their odor still remained about him; so he stopped and
+      carefully turned his pockets inside out, one after the other, but finding
+      that he still smelled vehemently of the &ldquo;moth-balls,&rdquo; though not one
+      remained upon him, he went to his mother's room and sprinkled violet
+      toilet-water upon his chest and shoulders. He disliked such odors, but
+      that left by the moth-balls was intolerable, and, laying hands upon a
+      canister labeled &ldquo;Hyacinth,&rdquo; he contrived to pour a quantity of scented
+      powder inside his collar, thence to be distributed by the force of gravity
+      so far as his dampness permitted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lo, William was now ready to go to his party! Moist, wilted, smelling
+      indeed strangely, he was ready.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But when he reached the foot of the stairs he discovered that there was
+      one thing more to be done. Indignation seized him, and also a creeping
+      fear chilled his spine, as he beheld a lurking shape upon the porch,
+      stealthily moving toward the open door. It was the lowly Clematis, dog
+      unto Genesis.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      William instantly divined the purpose of Clematis. It was debatable
+      whether Clematis had remained upon the premises after the departure of
+      Genesis, or had lately returned thither upon some errand of his own, but
+      one thing was certain, and the manner of Clematis&mdash;his attitude, his
+      every look, his every gesture&mdash;made it as clear as day. Clematis had
+      discovered, by one means or another, the presence of Flopit in the house,
+      and had determined to see him personally.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Clematis wore his most misleading expression; a stranger would have
+      thought him shy and easily turned from his purpose&mdash;but William was
+      not deceived. He knew that if Clematis meant to see Flopit, a strong will,
+      a ready brain, and stern action were needed to thwart him; but at all
+      costs that meeting must be prevented. Things had been awful enough,
+      without that!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was well aware that Clematis could not be driven away, except
+      temporarily, for nothing was further fixed upon Clematis than his habit of
+      retiring under pressure, only to return and return again. True, the door
+      could have been shut in the intruder's face, but he would have sought
+      other entrance with possible success, or, failing that, would have awaited
+      in the front yard the dispersal of the guests and Flopit's consequent
+      emerging. This was a contretemps not to be endured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The door of the living-room was closed, muffling festal noises and
+      permitting safe passage through the hall. William cast a hunted look over
+      his shoulder; then he approached Clematis.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good ole doggie,&rdquo; he said, huskily. &ldquo;Hyuh, Clem! Hyuh, Clem!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Clematis moved sidelong, retreating with his head low and his tail
+      denoting anxious thoughts.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hyuh, Clem!&rdquo; said William, trying, with only fair success, to keep his
+      voice from sounding venomous. &ldquo;Hyuh, Clem!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Clematis continued his deprecatory retreat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thereupon William essayed a ruse&mdash;he pretended to nibble at
+      something, and then extended his hand as if it held forth a gift of food.
+      &ldquo;Look, Clem,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Yum-yum! Meat, Clem! Good meat!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For once Clematis was half credulous. He did not advance, but he elongated
+      himself to investigate the extended hand, and the next instant found
+      himself seized viciously by the scruff of the neck. He submitted to
+      capture in absolute silence. Only the slightest change of countenance
+      betrayed his mortification at having been found so easy a gull; this
+      passed, and a look of resolute stoicism took its place.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He refused to walk, but offered merely nominal resistance, as a formal
+      protest which he wished to be of record, though perfectly understanding
+      that it availed nothing at present. William dragged him through the long
+      hall and down a short passageway to the cellar door. This he opened,
+      thrust Clematis upon the other side of it, closed and bolted it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Immediately a stentorian howl raised blood-curdling echoes and resounded
+      horribly through the house. It was obvious that Clematis intended to make
+      a scene, whether he was present at it or not. He lifted his voice in
+      sonorous dolor, stating that he did not like the cellar and would continue
+      thus to protest as long as he was left in it alone. He added that he was
+      anxious to see Flopit and considered it an unexampled outrage that he was
+      withheld from the opportunity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Smitten with horror, William reopened the door and charged down the cellar
+      stairs after Clematis, who closed his caitiff mouth and gave way
+      precipitately. He fled from one end of the cellar to the other and back,
+      while William pursued; choking, and calling in low, ferocious tones: &ldquo;Good
+      doggie! Good ole doggie! Hyuh, Clem! Meat, Clem, meat&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was dodging through coal-bins; there was squirming between barrels;
+      there was high jumping and broad jumping, and there was a final aspiring
+      but baffled dash for the top of the cellar stairs, where the door,
+      forgotten by William, stood open. But it was here that Clematis, after a
+      long and admirable exhibition of ingenuity, no less than agility,
+      submitted to capture. That is to say, finding himself hopelessly pinioned,
+      he resumed the stoic.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Grimly the panting and dripping William dragged him through the kitchen,
+      where the cook cried out unintelligibly, seeming to summon Adelia, who was
+      not present. Through the back yard went captor and prisoner, the latter
+      now maintaining a seated posture&mdash;his pathetic conception of dignity
+      under duress. Finally, into a small shed or tool-house, behind Mrs.
+      Baxter's flower-beds, went Clematis in a hurried and spasmodic manner. The
+      instant the door slammed he lifted his voice&mdash;and was bidden to use
+      it now as much as he liked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Adelia, with a tray of used plates, encountered the son of the house as he
+      passed through the kitchen on his return, and her eyes were those of one
+      who looks upon miracles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      William halted fiercely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's the matter?&rdquo; he demanded. &ldquo;Is my face dirty?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean, are it too dirty to go in yonduh to the party?&rdquo; Adelia asked,
+      slowly. &ldquo;No, suh; you look all right to go in there. You lookin' jes' fine
+      to go in there now, Mist' Willie!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Something in her tone struck him as peculiar, even as ominous, but his
+      blood was up&mdash;he would not turn back now. He strode into the hall and
+      opened the door of the &ldquo;living-room.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane was sitting on the floor, busily painting sunsets in a large
+      blank-book which she had obtained for that exclusive purpose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked up brightly as William appeared in the doorway, and in answer
+      to his wild gaze she said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I got a little bit sick, so mamma told me to keep quiet a while. She's
+      lookin' for you all over the house. She told papa she don't know what in
+      mercy's name people are goin' to think about you, Willie.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The distraught youth strode to her. &ldquo;The party&mdash;&rdquo; he choked. &ldquo;WHERE&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They all stayed pretty long,&rdquo; said Jane, &ldquo;but the last ones said they had
+      to go home to their dinners when papa came, a little while ago. Johnnie
+      Watson was carryin' Flopit for that Miss Pratt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      William dropped into the chair beside which Jane had established herself
+      upon the floor. Then he uttered a terrible cry and rose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Again Jane had painted a sunset she had not intended.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      XV
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      ROMANCE OF STATISTICS
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      On a warm morning, ten days later, William stood pensively among his
+      mother's flowerbeds behind the house, his attitude denoting a low state of
+      vitality. Not far away, an aged negro sat upon a wheelbarrow in the hot
+      sun, tremulously yet skilfully whittling a piece of wood into the shape of
+      a boat, labor more to his taste, evidently, than that which he had
+      abandoned at the request of Jane. Allusion to this preference for a
+      lighter task was made by Genesis, who was erecting a trellis on the border
+      of the little garden.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pappy whittle all day,&rdquo; he chuckled. &ldquo;Whittle all night, too! Pappy, I
+      thought you 'uz goin' to git 'at long bed all spade' up fer me by noon.
+      Ain't 'at what you tole me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You let him alone, Genesis,&rdquo; said Jane, who sat by the old man's side,
+      deeply fascinated. &ldquo;There's goin' to be a great deal of rain in the next
+      few days maybe, an' I haf to have this boat ready.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The aged darky lifted his streaky and diminished eyes to the burnished
+      sky, and laughed. &ldquo;Rain come some day, anyways,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;We git de boat
+      ready 'fo' she fall, dat sho.&rdquo; His glance wandered to William and rested
+      upon him with feeble curiosity. &ldquo;Dat ain' yo' pappy, is it?&rdquo; he asked
+      Jane.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should say it isn't!&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;It's Willie. He was only
+      seventeen about two or three months ago, Mr. Genesis.&rdquo; This was not the
+      old man's name, but Jane had evolved it, inspired by respect for one so
+      aged and so kind about whittling. He was the father of Genesis, and the
+      latter, neither to her knowledge nor to her imagination, possessed a
+      surname.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I got cat'rack in my lef' eye,&rdquo; said Mr. Genesis, &ldquo;an' de right one, she
+      kine o' tricksy, too. Tell black man f'um white man, little f'um big.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'd hate it if he was papa,&rdquo; said Jane, confidentially. &ldquo;He's always
+      cross about somep'm, because he's in love.&rdquo; She approached her mouth to
+      her whittling friend's ear and continued in a whisper: &ldquo;He's in love of
+      Miss Pratt. She's out walkin' with Joe Bullitt. I was in the front yard
+      with Willie, an' we saw 'em go by. He's mad.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      William did not hear her. Moodily, he had discovered that there was
+      something amiss with the buckle of his belt, and, having ungirded himself,
+      he was biting the metal tongue of the buckle in order to straighten it.
+      This fell under the observation of Genesis, who remonstrated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You break you' teef on 'at buckle,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I won't, either,&rdquo; William returned, crossly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ain' my teef,&rdquo; said Genesis. &ldquo;Break 'em, you want to!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The attention of Mr. Genesis did not seem to be attracted to the speakers;
+      he continued his whittling in a craftsman-like manner, which brought
+      praise from Jane.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You can see to whittle, Mr. Genesis,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;You whittle better than
+      anybody in the world.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I speck so, mebbe,&rdquo; Mr. Genesis returned, with a little complacency. &ldquo;How
+      ole yo' pappy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, he's OLD!&rdquo; Jane explained.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      William deigned to correct her. &ldquo;He's not old, he's middle-aged.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, suh,&rdquo; said Mr. Genesis, &ldquo;I had three chillum 'fo' I 'uz twenty. I
+      had two when I 'uz eighteem.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      William showed sudden interest. &ldquo;You did!&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;How old were you
+      when you had the first one?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I 'uz jes' yo' age,&rdquo; said the old man. &ldquo;I 'uz seventeem.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By George!&rdquo; cried William.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane seemed much less impressed than William, seventeen being a long way
+      from ten, though, of course, to seventeen itself hardly any information
+      could be imagined as more interesting than that conveyed by the words of
+      the aged Mr. Genesis. The impression made upon William was obviously
+      profound and favorable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By George!&rdquo; he cried again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Genesis he de youngis' one,&rdquo; said the old man. &ldquo;Genesis he 'uz bawn when
+      I 'uz sixty-one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      William moved closer. &ldquo;What became of the one that was born when you were
+      seventeen?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, suh,&rdquo; said Mr. Genesis, &ldquo;I nev' did know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At this, Jane's interest equaled William's. Her eyes consented to leave
+      the busy hands of the aged darky, and, much enlarged, rose to his face.
+      After a little pause of awe and sympathy she inquired:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Was it a boy or a girl?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The old man deliberated within himself. &ldquo;Seem like it mus' been a boy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did it die?&rdquo; Jane asked, softly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon it mus' be dead by now,&rdquo; he returned, musingly. &ldquo;Good many of
+      'em dead: what I KNOWS is dead. Yes'm, I reckon so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How old were you when you were married?&rdquo; William asked, with a manner of
+      peculiar earnestness;&mdash;it was the manner of one who addresses a
+      colleague.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Me? Well, suh, dat 'pen's.&rdquo; He seemed to search his memory. &ldquo;I rickalect
+      I 'uz ma'ied once in Looavle,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane's interest still followed the first child. &ldquo;Was that where it was
+      born, Mr. Genesis?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked puzzled, and paused in his whittling to rub his deeply
+      corrugated forehead. &ldquo;Well, suh, mus' been some bawn in Looavle. Genesis,&rdquo;
+       he called to his industrious son, &ldquo;whaih 'uz YOU bawn?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Right 'n 'is town,&rdquo; laughed Genesis. &ldquo;You fergit a good deal, pappy, but
+      I notice you don' fergit come to meals!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The old man grunted, resuming his whittling busily. &ldquo;Hain' much use,&rdquo; he
+      complained. &ldquo;Cain' eat nuff'm 'lessen it all gruelly. Man cain' eat nuff'm
+      'lessen he got teef. Genesis, di'n' I hyuh you tellin' dis white gemmun
+      take caih his teef&mdash;not bite on no i'on?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      William smiled in pity. &ldquo;I don't need to bother about that, I guess,&rdquo; he
+      said. &ldquo;I can crack nuts with my teeth.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, suh,&rdquo; said the old man. &ldquo;You kin now. Ev'y nut you crac' now goin'
+      cos' you a yell when you git 'long 'bout fawty an' fifty. You crack nuts
+      now an' you'll holler den!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I guess I won't worry myself much now about what won't happen till
+      I'm forty or fifty,&rdquo; said William. &ldquo;My teeth 'll last MY time, I guess.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      That brought a chuckle from Mr. Genesis. &ldquo;Jes' listen!&rdquo; he exclaimed.
+      &ldquo;Young man think he ain' nev' goin' be ole man. Else he think, 'Dat ole
+      man what I'm goin' to be, dat ain' goin' be me 'tall&mdash;dat goin' be
+      somebody else! What I caih 'bout dat ole man? I ain't a-goin' take caih o'
+      no teef fer HIM!' Yes, suh, an' den when he GIT to be ole man, he say,
+      'What become o' dat young man I yoosta be? Where is dat young man agone
+      to? He 'uz a fool, dat's what&mdash;an' <i>I</i> ain' no fool, so he mus'
+      been somebody else, not me; but I do jes' wish I had him hyuh 'bout two
+      minutes&mdash;long enough to lam him fer not takin' caih o' my teef fer
+      me!' Yes, suh!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      William laughed; his good humor was restored and he found the conversation
+      of Mr. Genesis attractive. He seated himself upon an upturned bucket near
+      the wheelbarrow, and reverted to a former theme. &ldquo;Well, I HAVE heard of
+      people getting married even younger 'n you were,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You take
+      India, for instance. Why, they get married in India when they're twelve,
+      and even seven and eight years old.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They do not!&rdquo; said Jane, promptly. &ldquo;Their mothers and fathers wouldn't
+      let 'em, an' they wouldn't want to, anyway.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suppose you been to India and know all about it!&rdquo; William retorted.
+      &ldquo;For the matter o' that, there was a young couple got married in
+      Pennsylvania the other day; the girl was only fifteen, and the man was
+      sixteen. It was in the papers, and their parents consented, and said it
+      was a good thing. Then there was a case in Fall River, Massachusetts,
+      where a young man eighteen years old married a woman forty-one years old;
+      it was in the papers, too. And I heard of another case somewhere in Iowa&mdash;a
+      boy began shaving when he was thirteen, and shaved every day for four
+      years, and now he's got a full beard, and he's goin' to get married this
+      year&mdash;before he's eighteen years old. Joe Bullitt's got a cousin in
+      Iowa that knows about this case&mdash;he knows the girl this fellow with
+      the beard is goin' to marry, and he says he expects it 'll turn out the
+      best thing could have happened. They're goin' to live on a farm. There's
+      hunderds of cases like that, only you don't hear of more'n just a few of
+      'em. People used to get married at sixteen, seventeen, eighteen&mdash;anywhere
+      in there&mdash;and never think anything of it at all. Right up to about a
+      hunderd years ago there were more people married at those ages than there
+      were along about twenty-four and twenty-five, the way they are now. For
+      instance, you take Shakespeare&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      William paused.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Genesis was scraping the hull of the miniature boat with a piece of
+      broken glass, in lieu of sandpaper, but he seemed to be following his
+      young friend's remarks with attention. William had mentioned Shakespeare
+      impulsively, in the ardor of demonstrating his point; however, upon second
+      thought he decided to withdraw the name.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I mean, you take the olden times,&rdquo; he went on; &ldquo;hardly anybody got
+      married after they were nineteen or twenty years old, unless they were
+      widowers, because they were all married by that time. And right here in
+      our own county, there were eleven couples married in the last six months
+      under twenty-one years of age. I've got a friend named Johnnie Watson; his
+      uncle works down at the court-house and told him about it, so it can't be
+      denied. Then there was a case I heard of over in&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Genesis uttered a loud chuckle. &ldquo;My goo'ness!&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;How you
+      c'leck all' dem fac's? Lan' name! What puzzlin' ME is how you 'member 'em
+      after you done c'leck 'em. Ef it uz me I couldn't c'leck 'em in de firs'
+      place, an' ef I could, dey wouldn' be no use to me, 'cause I couldn't
+      rickalect 'em!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, it isn't so hard,&rdquo; said William, &ldquo;if you kind of get the hang of
+      it.&rdquo; Obviously pleased, he plucked a spear of grass and placed it between
+      his teeth, adding, &ldquo;I always did have a pretty good memory.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mamma says you're the most forgetful boy she ever heard of,&rdquo; said Jane,
+      calmly. &ldquo;She says you can't remember anything two minutes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      William's brow darkened. &ldquo;Now look here&mdash;&rdquo; he began, with severity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But the old darky intervened. &ldquo;Some folks got good rickaleckshum an' some
+      folks got bad,&rdquo; he said, pacifically. &ldquo;Young white germmun rickalect mo'
+      in two minute dan what I kin in two years!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane appeared to accept this as settlement of the point at issue, while
+      William bestowed upon Mr. Genesis a glance of increased favor. William's
+      expression was pleasant to see; in fact, it was the pleasantest expression
+      Jane had seen him wearing for several days. Almost always, lately, he was
+      profoundly preoccupied, and so easily annoyed that there was no need to be
+      careful of his feelings, because&mdash;as his mother observed&mdash;he was
+      &ldquo;certain to break out about every so often, no matter what happened!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I remember pretty much everything,&rdquo; he said, as if in modest explanation
+      of the performance which had excited the aged man's admiration. &ldquo;I can
+      remember things that happened when I was four years old.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So can I,&rdquo; said Jane. &ldquo;I can remember when I was two. I had a kitten fell
+      down the cistern and papa said it hurt the water.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My goo'ness!&rdquo; Mr. Genesis exclaimed. &ldquo;An' you 'uz on'y two year ole,
+      honey! Bes' <i>I</i> kin do is rickalect when I 'uz 'bout fifty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh no!&rdquo; Jane protested. &ldquo;You said you remembered havin' a baby when you
+      were seventeen, Mr. Genesis.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm,&rdquo; he admitted. &ldquo;I mean rickalect good like you do 'bout yo' li'l'
+      cat an' all how yo' pappy tuck on 'bout it. I kin rickalect SOME, but I
+      cain' rickalect GOOD.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      William coughed with a certain importance. &ldquo;Do you remember,&rdquo; he asked,
+      &ldquo;when you were married, how did you feel about it? Were you kind of
+      nervous, or anything like that, beforehand?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Genesis again passed a wavering hand across his troubled brow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I mean,&rdquo; said William, observing his perplexity, &ldquo;were you sort of shaky&mdash;f'rinstance,
+      as if you were taking an important step in life?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lemme see.&rdquo; The old man pondered for a moment. &ldquo;I felt mighty shaky once,
+      I rickalect; dat time yalla m'latta man shootin' at me f 'um behime a
+      snake-fence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shootin' at you!&rdquo; Jane cried, stirred from her accustomed placidity. &ldquo;Mr.
+      Genesis! What DID he do that for?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nuff'm!&rdquo; replied Mr. Genesis, with feeling. &ldquo;Nuff'm in de wide worl'! He
+      boun' to shoot SOMEbody, an' pick on me 'cause I 'uz de handies'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He closed his knife, gave the little boat a final scrape with the broken
+      glass, and then a soothing rub with the palm of his hand. &ldquo;Dah, honey,&rdquo; he
+      said&mdash;and simultaneously factory whistles began to blow. &ldquo;Dah yo'
+      li'l' steamboat good as I kin git her widout no b'iler ner no smokestack.
+      I reckon yo' pappy 'll buy 'em fer you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane was grateful. &ldquo;It's a beautiful boat, Mr. Genesis. I do thank you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Genesis, the son, laid aside his tools and approached. &ldquo;Pappy finish
+      whittlin' spang on 'em noon whistles,&rdquo; he chuckled. &ldquo;Come 'long, pappy. I
+      bet you walk fas' 'nuff goin' todes dinnuh. I hear fry-cakes ploppin' in
+      skillet!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Genesis laughed loudly, his son's words evidently painting a merry and
+      alluring picture; and the two, followed by Clematis, moved away in the
+      direction of the alley gate. William and Jane watched the brisk departure
+      of the antique with sincere esteem and liking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He must have been sixteen,&rdquo; said William, musingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When?&rdquo; Jane asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      William, in deep thought, was still looking after Mr. Genesis; he was
+      almost unconscious that he had spoken aloud and he replied, automatically:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When he was married.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then, with a start, he realized into how great a condescension he had been
+      betrayed, and hastily added, with pronounced hauteur, &ldquo;Things you don't
+      understand. You run in the house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane went into the house, but she did not carry her obedience to the point
+      of running. She walked slowly, and in that state of profound reverie which
+      was characteristic of her when she was immersed in the serious study of
+      William's affairs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0019" id="link2H_4_0019">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      XVI
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      THE SHOWER
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      She continued to be thoughtful until after lunch, when, upon the sun's
+      disappearance behind a fat cloud, Jane and the heavens exchanged
+      dispositions for the time&mdash;the heavens darkened and Jane brightened.
+      She was in the front hall, when the sunshine departed rather abruptly, and
+      she jumped for joy, pointing to the open door. &ldquo;Look! Looky there!&rdquo; she
+      called to her brother. Richly ornamented, he was descending the front
+      stairs, his embellishments including freshly pressed white trousers, a new
+      straw hat, unusual shoes, and a blasphemous tie. &ldquo;I'm goin' to get to sail
+      my boat,&rdquo; Jane shouted. &ldquo;It's goin' to rain.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is not,&rdquo; said William, irritated. &ldquo;It's not going to anything like
+      rain. I s'pose you think it ought to rain just to let you sail that chunk
+      of wood!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's goin' to rain&mdash;it's goin' to rain!&rdquo; (Jane made a little
+      singsong chant of it.) &ldquo;It's goin' to rain&mdash;it gives Willie a pain&mdash;it's
+      goin' to rain&mdash;it gives Willie a pain&mdash;it's goin' to&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He interrupted her sternly. &ldquo;Look here! You're old enough to know better.
+      I s'pose you think there isn't anything as important in the world as your
+      gettin' the chance to sail that little boat! I s'pose you think business
+      and everything else has got to stop and get ruined, maybe, just to please
+      you!&rdquo; As he spoke he walked to an umbrella-stand in the hall and
+      deliberately took therefrom a bamboo walking-stick of his father's.
+      Indeed, his denunciation of Jane's selfishness about the weather was made
+      partly to reassure himself and settle his nerves, strained by the unusual
+      procedure he contemplated, and partly to divert Jane's attention. In the
+      latter effort he was unsuccessful; her eyes became strange and unbearable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She uttered a shriek:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Willie's goin' to carry a CANE!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You hush up!&rdquo; he said, fiercely, and hurried out through the front door.
+      She followed him to the edge of the porch; she stood there while he made
+      his way to the gate, and she continued to stand there as he went down the
+      street, trying to swing the cane in an accustomed and unembarrassed
+      manner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane made this difficult.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Willie's got a CANE!&rdquo; she screamed. &ldquo;He's got papa's CANE!&rdquo; Then,
+      resuming her little chant, she began to sing: &ldquo;It's goin' to rain&mdash;Willie's
+      got papa's cane&mdash;it's goin' to rain&mdash;Willie's got papa's cane!&rdquo;
+       She put all of her voice into a final effort. &ldquo;MISS PRATT'LL GET WET IF
+      YOU DON'T TAKE AN UMBERELLER-R-R!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The attention of several chance pedestrians had been attracted, and the
+      burning William, breaking into an agonized half-trot, disappeared round
+      the corner. Then Jane retired within the house, feeling that she had done
+      her duty. It would be his own fault if he got wet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rain was coming. Rain was in the feel of the air&mdash;and in Jane's hope.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She was not disappointed. Mr. Genesis, so secure of fair weather in the
+      morning, was proved by the afternoon to be a bad prophet. The fat cloud
+      was succeeded by others, fatter; a corpulent army assailed the vault of
+      heaven, heavy outriders before a giant of evil complexion and devastating
+      temper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      An hour after William had left the house, the dust in the streets and all
+      loose paper and rubbish outdoors rose suddenly to a considerable height
+      and started for somewhere else. The trees had colic; everything became as
+      dark as winter twilight; streaks of wildfire ran miles in a second, and
+      somebody seemed to be ripping up sheets of copper and tin the size of
+      farms. The rain came with a swish, then with a rattle, and then with a
+      roar, while people listened at their garret doorways and marveled.
+      Window-panes turned to running water;&mdash;it poured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then it relented, dribbled, shook down a few last drops; and passed on to
+      the countryside. Windows went up; eaves and full gutters plashed and
+      gurgled; clearer light fell; then, in a moment, sunshine rushed upon
+      shining green trees and green grass; doors opened&mdash;and out came the
+      children!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Shouting, they ran to the flooded gutters. Here were rivers, lakes, and
+      oceans for navigation; easy pilotage, for the steersman had but to wade
+      beside his craft and guide it with a twig. Jane's timely boat was one of
+      the first to reach the water.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Her mother had been kind, and Jane, with shoes and stockings left behind
+      her on the porch, was a happy sailor as she waded knee-deep along the
+      brimming curbstones. At the corner below the house of the Baxters, the
+      street was flooded clear across, and Jane's boat, following the current,
+      proceeded gallantly onward here, sailed down the next block, and was
+      thoughtlessly entering a sewer when she snatched it out of the water.
+      Looking about her, she perceived a gutter which seemed even lovelier than
+      the one she had followed. It was deeper and broader and perhaps a little
+      browner, wherefore she launched her ship upon its dimpled bosom and
+      explored it as far as the next sewer-hole or portage. Thus the voyage
+      continued for several blocks with only one accident&mdash;which might have
+      happened to anybody. It was an accident in the nature of a fall, caused by
+      the sliding of Jane's left foot on some slippery mud. This treacherous
+      substance, covered with water, could not have been anticipated;
+      consequently Jane's emotions were those of indignation rather than of
+      culpability. Upon rising, she debated whether or not she should return to
+      her dwelling, inclining to the opinion that the authorities there would
+      have taken the affirmative; but as she was wet not much above the waist,
+      and the guilt lay all upon the mud, she decided that such an interruption
+      of her journey would be a gross injustice to herself. Navigation was
+      reopened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Presently the boat wandered into a miniature whirlpool, grooved in a
+      spiral and pleasant to see. Slowly the water went round and round, and so
+      did the boat without any assistance from Jane. Watching this movement
+      thoughtfully, she brought forth from her drenched pocket some sodden
+      whitish disks, recognizable as having been crackers, and began to eat
+      them. Thus absorbed, she failed at first to notice the approach of two
+      young people along the sidewalk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They were the entranced William and Miss Pratt; and their appearance
+      offered a suggestive contrast in relative humidity. In charming and
+      tender-colored fabrics, fluffy and cool and summery, she was specklessly
+      dry; not a drop had touched even the little pink parasol over her
+      shoulder, not one had fallen upon the tiny white doglet drowsing upon her
+      arm. But William was wet&mdash;he was still more than merely damp, though
+      they had evidently walked some distance since the rain had ceased to fall.
+      His new hat was a mucilaginous ruin; his dank coat sagged; his shapeless
+      trousers flopped heavily, and his shoes gave forth marshy sounds as he
+      walked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      No brilliant analyst was needed to diagnose this case. Surely any observer
+      must have said: &ldquo;Here is a dry young lady, and at her side walks a wet
+      young gentleman who carries an umbrella in one hand and a walking-stick in
+      the other. Obviously the young lady and gentleman were out for a stroll
+      for which the stick was sufficient, and they were caught by the rain.
+      Before any fell, however, he found her a place of shelter&mdash;such as a
+      corner drug-store and then himself gallantly went forth into the storm for
+      an umbrella. He went to the young lady's house, or to the house where she
+      may be visiting, for, if he had gone to his own he would have left his
+      stick. It may be, too, that at his own, his mother would have detained
+      him, since he is still at the age when it is just possible sometimes for
+      mothers to get their sons into the house when it rains. He returned with
+      the umbrella to the corner drug-store at probably about the time when the
+      rain ceased to fall, because his extreme moistness makes necessary the
+      deduction that he was out in all the rain that rained. But he does not
+      seem to care.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The fact was that William did not even know that he was wet. With his head
+      sidewise and his entranced eyes continuously upon the pretty face so near,
+      his state was almost somnambulistic. Not conscious of his soggy garments
+      or of the deluged streets, he floated upon a rosy cloud, incense about
+      him, far-away music enchanting his ears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      If Jane had not recognized the modeling of his features she might not have
+      known them to be William's, for they had altered their grouping to produce
+      an expression with which she was totally unfamiliar. To be explicit, she
+      was unfamiliar with this expression in that place&mdash;that is to say,
+      upon William, though she had seen something like it upon other people,
+      once or twice, in church.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      William's thoughts might have seemed to her as queer as his expression,
+      could she have known them. They were not very definite, however, taking
+      the form of sweet, vague pictures of the future. These pictures were of
+      married life; that is, married life as William conceived it for himself
+      and Miss Pratt&mdash;something strikingly different from that he had
+      observed as led by his mother and father, or their friends and relatives.
+      In his rapt mind he beheld Miss Pratt walking beside him &ldquo;through life,&rdquo;
+       with her little parasol and her little dog&mdash;her exquisite face always
+      lifted playfully toward his own (with admiration underneath the
+      playfulness), and he heard her voice of silver always rippling &ldquo;baby-talk&rdquo;
+       throughout all the years to come. He saw her applauding his triumphs&mdash;though
+      these remained indefinite in his mind, and he was unable to foreshadow the
+      business or profession which was to provide the amazing mansion (mainly
+      conservatory) which he pictured as their home. Surrounded by flowers, and
+      maintaining a private orchestra, he saw Miss Pratt and himself growing old
+      together, attaining to such ages as thirty and even thirty-five, still in
+      perfect harmony, and always either dancing in the evenings or strolling
+      hand in hand in the moonlight. Sometimes they would visit the nursery,
+      where curly-headed, rosy cherubs played upon a white-bear rug in the
+      firelight. These were all boys and ready-made, the youngest being three
+      years old and without a past.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They would be beautiful children, happy with their luxurious toys on the
+      bear rug, and they would NEVER be seen in any part of the house except the
+      nursery. Their deportment would be flawless, and&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;WILL-EE!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The aviator struck a hole in the air; his heart misgave him. Then he came
+      to earth&mdash;a sickening drop, and instantaneous.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;WILL-EE!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was Jane, a figurine in a plastic state and altogether disgraceful;&mdash;she
+      came up out of the waters and stood before them with feet of clay, indeed;
+      pedestaled upon the curbstone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who IS that CURIOUS child?&rdquo; said Miss Pratt, stopping.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      William shuddered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Was she calling YOU?&rdquo; Miss Pratt asked, incredulously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Willie, I told you you better take an umbereller,&rdquo; said Jane, &ldquo;instead of
+      papa's cane.&rdquo; And she added, triumphantly, &ldquo;Now you see!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Moving forward, she seemed to have in mind a dreadful purpose; there was
+      something about her that made William think she intended casually to
+      accompany him and Miss Pratt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You go home!&rdquo; he commanded, hoarsely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Pratt uttered a little scream of surprise and recognition. &ldquo;It's your
+      little sister!&rdquo; she exclaimed, and then, reverting to her favorite
+      playfulness of enunciation, &ldquo;'Oor ickle sissa!&rdquo; she added, gaily, as a
+      translation. Jane misunderstood it; she thought Miss Pratt meant &ldquo;OUR
+      little sister.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go home!&rdquo; said William.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No'ty, no'ty!&rdquo; said Miss Pratt, shaking her head. &ldquo;Me 'fraid oo's a
+      no'ty, no'ty ickle dirl! All datie!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane advanced. &ldquo;I wish you'd let me carry Flopit for you,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Giving forth another gentle scream, Miss Pratt hopped prettily backward
+      from Jane's extended hands. &ldquo;Oo-oo!&rdquo; she cried, chidingly. &ldquo;Mustn't touch!
+      P'eshus Flopit all soap-water-wash clean. Ickle dirly all muddy-nassy!
+      Ickle dirly must doe home, det all soap-water-wash clean like NICE ickle
+      sissa. Evabody will love 'oor ickle sissa den,&rdquo; she concluded, turning to
+      William. &ldquo;Tell 'oor ickle sissa MUS' doe home det soap-water-wash!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane stared at Miss Pratt with fixed solemnity during the delivery of
+      these admonitions, and it was to be seen that they made an impression upon
+      her. Her mouth slowly opened, but she spake not. An extraordinary idea had
+      just begun to make itself at home in her mind. It was an idea which had
+      been hovering in the neighborhood of that domain ever since William's
+      comments upon the conversation of Mr. Genesis, in the morning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go home!&rdquo; repeated William, and then, as Jane stood motionless and
+      inarticulate, transfixed by her idea, he said, almost brokenly, to his
+      dainty companion, &ldquo;I DON'T know what you'll think of my mother! To let
+      this child&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Pratt laughed comfortingly as they started on again. &ldquo;Isn't mamma's
+      fault, foolish boy Baxter. Ickle dirlies will det datie!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The profoundly mortified William glanced back over his shoulder, bestowing
+      upon Jane a look in which bitterness was mingled with apprehension. But
+      she remained where she was, and did not follow. That was a little to be
+      thankful for, and he found some additional consolation in believing that
+      Miss Pratt had not caught the frightful words, &ldquo;papa's cane,&rdquo; at the
+      beginning of the interview. He was encouraged to this belief by her
+      presently taking from his hand the decoration in question and examining it
+      with tokens of pleasure. &ldquo;'Oor pitty walk'-'tick,&rdquo; she called it, with a
+      tact he failed to suspect. And so he began to float upward again; glamors
+      enveloped him and the earth fell away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was alone in space with Miss Pratt once more.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0020" id="link2H_4_0020">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      XVII
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      JANE'S THEORY
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      The pale end of sunset was framed in the dining-room windows, and Mr. and
+      Mrs. Baxter and the rehabilitated Jane were at the table, when William
+      made his belated return from the afternoon's excursion. Seating himself,
+      he waived his mother's references to the rain, his clothes, and probable
+      colds, and after one laden glance at Jane denoting a grievance so
+      elaborate that he despaired of setting it forth in a formal complaint to
+      the Powers&mdash;he fell into a state of trance. He took nourishment
+      automatically, and roused himself but once during the meal, a pathetic
+      encounter with his father resulting from this awakening.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Everybody in town seemed to be on the streets, this evening, as I walked
+      home,&rdquo; Mr. Baxter remarked, addressing his wife. &ldquo;I suppose there's
+      something in the clean air after a rain that brings 'em out. I noticed one
+      thing, though; maybe it's the way they dress nowadays, but you certainly
+      don't see as many pretty girls on the streets as there used to be.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      William looked up absently. &ldquo;I used to think that, too,&rdquo; he said, with
+      dreamy condescension, &ldquo;when I was younger.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Baxter stared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I'll be darned!&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Papa, papa!&rdquo; his wife called, reprovingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When you were younger!&rdquo; Mr. Baxter repeated, with considerable
+      irritation. &ldquo;How old d' you think you are?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm going on eighteen,&rdquo; said William, firmly. &ldquo;I know plenty of cases&mdash;cases
+      where&mdash;&rdquo; He paused, relapsing into lethargy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's the matter with him?&rdquo; Mr. Baxter inquired, heatedly, of his wife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      William again came to life. &ldquo;I was saying that a person's age is different
+      according to circumstances,&rdquo; he explained, with dignity, if not lucidity.
+      &ldquo;You take Genesis's father. Well, he was married when he was sixteen. Then
+      there was a case over in Iowa that lots of people know about and nobody
+      thinks anything of. A young man over there in Iowa that's seventeen years
+      old began shaving when he was thirteen and shaved every day for four
+      years, and now&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He was interrupted by his father, who was no longer able to contain
+      himself. &ldquo;And now I suppose he's got WHISKERS!&rdquo; he burst forth. &ldquo;There's
+      an ambition for you! My soul!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was Jane who took up the tale. She had been listening with growing
+      excitement, her eyes fixed piercingly upon William. &ldquo;He's got a beard!&rdquo;
+       she cried, alluding not to her brother, but to the fabled Iowan. &ldquo;I heard
+      Willie tell ole Mr. Genesis about it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It seems to lie heavily on your mind,&rdquo; Mr. Baxter said to William. &ldquo;I
+      suppose you feel that in the face of such an example, your life between
+      the ages of thirteen and seventeen has been virtually thrown away?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      William had again relapsed, but he roused himself feebly. &ldquo;Sir?&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What IS the matter with him?&rdquo; Mr. Baxter demanded. &ldquo;Half the time lately
+      he seems to be hibernating, and only responds by a slight twitching when
+      poked with a stick. The other half of the time he either behaves like
+      I-don't-know-what or talks about children growing whiskers in Iowa! Hasn't
+      that girl left town yet?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      William was not so deep in trance that this failed to stir him. He left
+      the table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Baxter looked distressed, though, as the meal was about concluded,
+      and William had partaken of his share in spite of his dreaminess, she had
+      no anxieties connected with his sustenance. As for Mr. Baxter, he felt a
+      little remorse, undoubtedly, but he was also puzzled. So plain a man was
+      he that he had no perception of the callous brutality of the words &ldquo;THAT
+      GIRL&rdquo; when applied to some girls. He referred to his mystification a
+      little later, as he sat with his evening paper in the library.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know what I said to that tetchy boy to hurt him,&rdquo; he began in an
+      apologetic tone. &ldquo;I don't see that there was anything too rough for him to
+      stand in a little sarcasm. He needn't be so sensitive on the subject of
+      whiskers, it seems to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Baxter smiled faintly and shook her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was Jane who responded. She was seated upon the floor, disporting
+      herself mildly with her paint-box. &ldquo;Papa, I know what's the matter with
+      Willie,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you?&rdquo; Mr. Baxter returned. &ldquo;Well, if you make it pretty short, you've
+      got just about long enough to tell us before your bedtime.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think he's married,&rdquo; said Jane.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What!&rdquo; And her parents united their hilarity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do think he's married,&rdquo; Jane insisted, unmoved. &ldquo;I think he's married
+      with that Miss Pratt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said her father, &ldquo;he does seem upset, and it may be that her visit
+      and the idea of whiskers, coming so close together, is more than mere
+      coincidence, but I hardly think Willie is married, Jane!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, then,&rdquo; she returned, thoughtfully, &ldquo;he's almost married. I know
+      that much, anyway.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What makes you think so?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, because! I KIND of thought he must be married, or anyways somep'm,
+      when he talked to Mr. Genesis this mornin'. He said he knew how some
+      people got married in Pennsylvania an' India, an' he said they were only
+      seven or eight years old. He said so, an' I heard him; an' he said there
+      were eleven people married that were only seventeen, an' this boy in Iowa
+      got a full beard an' got married, too. An' he said Mr. Genesis was only
+      sixteen when HE was married. He talked all about gettin' married when
+      you're seventeen years old, an' he said how people thought it was the best
+      thing could happen. So I just KNOW he's almost married!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Baxter chuckled, and Mrs. Baxter smiled, but a shade of
+      thoughtfulness, a remote anxiety, tell upon the face of the latter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You haven't any other reason, have you, Jane?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm,&rdquo; said Jane, promptly. &ldquo;An' it's a more reason than any! Miss Pratt
+      calls you 'mamma' as if you were HER mamma. She does it when she talks to
+      Willie.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Jane!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes m, I HEARD her. An' Willie said, 'I don't know what you'll think
+      about mother.' He said, 'I don't know what you'll think about mother,' to
+      Miss Pratt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Baxter looked a little startled, and her husband frowned. Jane
+      mistook their expressions for incredulity. &ldquo;They DID, mamma,&rdquo; she
+      protested. &ldquo;That's just the way they talked to each other. I heard 'em
+      this afternoon, when Willie had papa's cane.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Maybe they were doing it to tease you, if you were with them,&rdquo; Mr. Baxter
+      suggested.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wasn't with 'em. I was sailin' my boat, an' they came along, an' first
+      they never saw me, an' Willie looked&mdash;oh, papa, I wish you'd seen
+      him!&rdquo; Jane rose to her feet in her excitement. &ldquo;His face was so funny, you
+      never saw anything like it! He was walkin' along with it turned sideways,
+      an' all the time he kept walkin' frontways, he kept his face sideways&mdash;like
+      this, papa. Look, papa!&rdquo; And she gave what she considered a faithful
+      imitation of William walking with Miss Pratt. &ldquo;Look, papa! This is the way
+      Willie went. He had it sideways so's he could see Miss. Pratt, papa. An'
+      his face was just like this. Look, papa!&rdquo; She contorted her features in a
+      terrifying manner. &ldquo;Look, papa!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't, Jane!&rdquo; her mother exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I haf to show papa how Willie looked, don't I?&rdquo; said Jane,
+      relaxing. &ldquo;That's just the way he looked. Well, an' then they stopped an'
+      talked to me, an' Miss Pratt said, 'It's our little sister.'&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did she really?&rdquo; Mrs. Baxter asked, gravely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm, she did. Soon as she saw who I was, she said, 'Why, it's our
+      little sister!' Only she said it that way she talks&mdash;sort of foolish.
+      'It's our ittle sissy'&mdash;somep'm like that, mamma. She said it twice
+      an' told me to go home an' get washed up. An' Miss Pratt told Willie&mdash;Miss
+      Pratt said, 'It isn't mamma's fault Jane's so dirty,' just like that. She&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you sure she said 'our little sister'?&rdquo; said Mrs. Baxter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, you can ask Willie! She said it that funny way. 'Our 'ittle sissy';
+      that's what she said. An' Miss Pratt said, 'Ev'rybody would love our
+      little sister if mamma washed her in soap an' water!' You can ask Willie;
+      that's exackly what Miss Pratt said, an' if you don't believe it you can
+      ask HER. If you don't want to believe it, why, you can ask&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hush, dear,&rdquo; said Mrs. Baxter. &ldquo;All this doesn't mean anything at all,
+      especially such nonsense as Willie's thinking of being married. It's your
+      bedtime.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, but MAMMA&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Was that all they said?&rdquo; Mr. Baxter inquired.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane turned to him eagerly. &ldquo;They said all lots of things like that, papa.
+      They&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nonsense!&rdquo; Mrs. Baxter in interrupted. &ldquo;Come, it's bedtime. I'll go up
+      with you. You mustn't think such nonsense.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, mamma&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come along, Jane!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane was obedient in the flesh, but her spirit was free; her opinions were
+      her own. Disappointed in the sensation she had expected to produce, she
+      followed her mother out of the room wearing the expression of a person who
+      says, &ldquo;You'll SEE&mdash;some day when everything's ruined!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Baxter, left alone, laughed quietly, lifted his neglected newspaper to
+      obtain the light at the right angle, and then allowed it to languish upon
+      his lap again. Frowning, he began to tap the floor with his shoe.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was trying to remember what things were in his head when he was
+      seventeen, and it was difficult. It seemed to him that he had been a
+      steady, sensible young fellow&mdash;really quite a man&mdash;at that age.
+      Looking backward at the blur of youthful years, the period from sixteen to
+      twenty-five appeared to him as &ldquo;pretty much all of a piece.&rdquo; He could not
+      recall just when he stopped being a boy; it must have been at about
+      fifteen, he thought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      All at once he sat up stiffly in his chair, and the paper slid from his
+      knee. He remembered an autumn, long ago, when he had decided to abandon
+      the educational plans of his parents and become an actor. He had located
+      this project exactly, for it dated from the night of his seventeenth
+      birthday, when he saw John McCullough play &ldquo;Virginius.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Even now Mr. Baxter grew a little red as he remembered the remarkable
+      letter he had written, a few weeks later, to the manager of a passing
+      theatrical company. He had confidently expected an answer, and had made
+      his plans to leave town quietly with the company and afterward reassure
+      his parents by telegraph. In fact, he might have been on the stage at this
+      moment, if that manager had taken him. Mr. Baxter began to look nervous.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Still, there is a difference between going on the stage and getting
+      married. &ldquo;I don't know, though!&rdquo; Mr. Baxter thought. &ldquo;And Willie's
+      certainly not so well balanced in a GENERAL way as I was.&rdquo; He wished his
+      wife would come down and reassure him, though of course it was all
+      nonsense.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But when Mrs. Baxter came down-stairs she did not reassure him. &ldquo;Of course
+      Jane's too absurd!&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I don't mean that she 'made it up'; she
+      never does that, and no doubt this little Miss Pratt did say about what
+      Jane thought she said. But it all amounts to nothing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Willie's just going through what several of the other boys about his age
+      are going through&mdash;like Johnnie Watson and Joe Bullitt and Wallace
+      Banks. They all seem to be frantic over her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I caught a glimpse of her the day you had her to tea. She's rather
+      pretty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Adorably! And perhaps Willie has been just a LITTLE bit more frantic than
+      the others.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He certainly seems in a queer state!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At this his wife's tone became serious. &ldquo;Do you think he WOULD do as crazy
+      a thing as that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Baxter laughed. &ldquo;Well, I don't know what he'd do it ON! I don't
+      suppose he has more than a dollar in his possession.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, he has,&rdquo; she returned, quickly. &ldquo;Day before yesterday there was a
+      second-hand furniture man here, and I was too busy to see him, but I
+      wanted the storeroom in the cellar cleared out, and I told Willie he could
+      have whatever the man would pay him for the junk in there, if he'd watch
+      to see that they didn't TAKE anything. They found some old pieces that I'd
+      forgotten, underneath things, and altogether the man paid Willie nine
+      dollars and eighty-five cents.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, mercy-me!&rdquo; exclaimed Mr. Baxter, &ldquo;the girl may be an idiot, but she
+      wouldn't run away and marry a boy just barely seventeen on nine dollars
+      and eighty-five cents!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh no!&rdquo; said Mrs. Baxter. &ldquo;At least, I don't THINK so. Of course girls do
+      as crazy things as boys sometimes&mdash;in their way. I was thinking&mdash;&rdquo;
+       She paused. &ldquo;Of COURSE there couldn't be anything in it, but it did seem a
+      little strange.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What did?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, just before I came down-stairs, Adelia came for the laundry; and I
+      asked her if she'd seen Willie; and she said he'd put on his dark suit
+      after dinner, and he went out through the kitchen, carrying his
+      suit-case.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He did?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course,&rdquo; Mrs. Baxter went on, slowly, &ldquo;I COULDN'T believe he'd do such
+      a thing, but he really is in a PREPOSTEROUS way over this little Miss
+      Pratt, and he DID have that money&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By George!&rdquo; Mr. Baxter got upon his feet. &ldquo;The way he talked at dinner, I
+      could come pretty near believing he hasn't any more brains LEFT than to
+      get married on nine dollars and eighty-five cents! I wouldn't put it past
+      him! By George, I wouldn't!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I don't think he would,&rdquo; she remonstrated, feebly. &ldquo;Besides, the law
+      wouldn't permit it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Baxter paced the floor. &ldquo;Oh, I suppose they COULD manage it. They
+      could go to some little town and give false ages and&mdash;&rdquo; He broke off.
+      &ldquo;Adelia was sure he had his suit-case?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She nodded. &ldquo;Do you think we'd better go down to the Parchers'? We'd just
+      say we came to call, of course, and if&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Get your hat on,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I don't think there's anything in it at all,
+      but we'd just as well drop down there. It can't HURT anything.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course, I don't think&mdash;&rdquo; she began.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Neither do I,&rdquo; he interrupted, irascibly. &ldquo;But with a boy of his age
+      crazy enough to think he's in love, how do WE know what 'll happen? We're
+      only his parents! Get your hat on.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But when the uneasy couple found themselves upon the pavement before the
+      house of the Parchers, they paused under the shade-trees in the darkness,
+      and presently decided that it was not necessary to go in. Suddenly their
+      uneasiness had fallen from them. From the porch came the laughter of
+      several young voices, and then one silvery voice, which pretended to be
+      that of a tiny child.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, s'ame! S'ame on 'oo, big Bruvva Josie-Joe! Mus' be polite to Johnny
+      Jump-up, or tant play wiv May and Lola!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's Miss Pratt,&rdquo; whispered Mrs. Baxter. &ldquo;She's talking to Johnnie
+      Watson and Joe Bullitt and May Parcher. Let's go home; it's all right. Of
+      course I knew it would be.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, certainly,&rdquo; said Mr. Baxter, as they turned. &ldquo;Even if Willie were as
+      crazy as that, the little girl would have more sense. I wouldn't have
+      thought anything of it, if you hadn't told me about the suit-case. That
+      looked sort of queer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She agreed that it did, but immediately added that she had thought nothing
+      of it. What had seemed more significant to her was William's interest in
+      the early marriage of Genesis's father, and in the Iowa beard story, she
+      said. Then she said that it WAS curious about the suit-case.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And when they came to their own house again, there was William sitting
+      alone and silent upon the steps of the porch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought you'd gone out, Willie,&rdquo; said his mother, as they paused beside
+      him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ma'am?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Adelia said you went out, carrying your suit-case.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh yes,&rdquo; he said, languidly. &ldquo;If you leave clothes at Schwartz's in the
+      evening they have 'em pressed in the morning. You said I looked damp at
+      dinner, so I took 'em over and left 'em there.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I see.&rdquo; Mrs. Baxter followed her husband to the door, but she stopped on
+      the threshold and called back:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't sit there too long, Willie.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ma'am?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The dew is falling and it rained so hard to-day&mdash;I'm afraid it might
+      be damp.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ma'am?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come on,&rdquo; Mr. Baxter said to his wife. &ldquo;He's down on the Parchers' porch,
+      not out in front here. Of course he can't hear you. It's three blocks and
+      a half.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But William's father was mistaken. Little he knew! William was not upon
+      the porch of the Parchers, with May Parcher and Joe Bullitt and Johnnie
+      Watson to interfere. He was far from there, in a land where time was not.
+      Upon a planet floating in pink mist, and uninhabited&mdash;unless old Mr.
+      Genesis and some Hindoo princes and the diligent Iowan may have
+      established themselves in its remoter regions&mdash;William was alone with
+      Miss Pratt, in the conservatory. And, after a time, they went together,
+      and looked into the door of a room where an indefinite number of little
+      boys&mdash;all over three years of age&mdash;were playing in the firelight
+      upon a white-bear rug. For, in the roseate gossamer that boys' dreams are
+      made of, William had indeed entered the married state.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His condition was growing worse, every day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0021" id="link2H_4_0021">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      XVIII
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      THE BIG, FAT LUMMOX
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      In the morning sunshine, Mrs. Baxter stood at the top of the steps of the
+      front porch, addressing her son, who listened impatiently and edged
+      himself a little nearer the gate every time he shifted his weight from one
+      foot to the other.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Willie,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;you must really pay some attention to the laws of
+      health, or you'll never live to be an old man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't want to live to be an old man,&rdquo; said William, earnestly. &ldquo;I'd
+      rather do what I please now and die a little sooner.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You talk very foolishly,&rdquo; his mother returned. &ldquo;Either come back and put
+      on some heavier THINGS or take your overcoat.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My overcoat!&rdquo; William groaned. &ldquo;They'd think I was a lunatic, carrying an
+      overcoat in August!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not to a picnic,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mother, it isn't a picnic, I've told you a hunderd times! You think it's
+      one those ole-fashion things YOU used to go to&mdash;sit on the damp
+      ground and eat sardines with ants all over 'em? This isn't anything like
+      that; we just go out on the trolley to this farm-house and have noon
+      dinner, and dance all afternoon, and have supper, and then come home on
+      the trolley. I guess we'd hardly of got up anything as out o' date as a
+      picnic in honor of Miss PRATT!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Baxter seemed unimpressed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It doesn't matter whether you call it a picnic or not, Willie. It will be
+      cool on the open trolleycar coming home, especially with only those white
+      trousers on&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ye gods!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;I've got other things on besides my trousers! I wish
+      you wouldn't always act as if I was a perfect child! Good heavens! isn't a
+      person my age supposed to know how much clothes to wear?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, if he is,&rdquo; she returned, &ldquo;it's a mere supposition and not founded
+      on fact. Don't get so excited, Willie, please; but you'll either have to
+      give up the picnic or come in and ch&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Change my 'things'!&rdquo; he wailed. &ldquo;I can't change my 'things'! I've got
+      just twenty minutes to get to May Parcher's&mdash;the crowd meets there,
+      and they're goin' to take the trolley in front the Parchers' at exactly a
+      quarter after 'leven. PLEASE don't keep me any longer, mother&mdash;I GOT
+      to go!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She stepped into the hall and returned immediately. &ldquo;Here's your overcoat,
+      Willie.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His expression was of despair. &ldquo;They'll think I'm a lunatic and they'll
+      say so before everybody&mdash;and I don't blame 'em! Overcoat on a hot day
+      like this! Except me, I don't suppose there was ever anybody lived in the
+      world and got to be going on eighteen years old and had to carry his silly
+      old overcoat around with him in August&mdash;because his mother made him!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Willie,&rdquo; said Mrs. Baxter, &ldquo;you don't know how many thousands and
+      thousands of mothers for thousands and thousands of years have kept their
+      sons from taking thousands and thousands of colds&mdash;just this way!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He moaned. &ldquo;Well, and I got to be called a lunatic just because you're
+      nervous, I s'pose. All right!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She hung it upon his arm, kissed him; and he departed in a desperate
+      manner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      However, having worn his tragic face for three blocks, he halted before a
+      corner drug-store, and permitted his expression to improve as he gazed
+      upon the window display of My Little Sweetheart All-Tobacco Cuban
+      Cigarettes, the Package of Twenty for Ten Cents. William was not a smoker&mdash;that
+      is to say, he had made the usual boyhood experiments, finding them
+      discouraging; and though at times he considered it humorously
+      man-about-town to say to a smoking friend, &ldquo;Well, <i>I</i>'ll tackle one
+      o' your ole coffin-nails,&rdquo; he had never made a purchase of tobacco in his
+      life. But it struck him now that it would be rather debonair to disport
+      himself with a package of Little Sweethearts upon the excursion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And the name! It thrilled him inexpressibly, bringing a tenderness into
+      his eyes and a glow into his bosom. He felt that when he should smoke a
+      Little Sweetheart it would be a tribute to the ineffable visitor for whom
+      this party was being given&mdash;it would bring her closer to him. His
+      young brow grew almost stern with determination, for he made up his mind,
+      on the spot, that he would smoke oftener in the future&mdash;he would
+      become a confirmed smoker, and all his life he would smoke My Little
+      Sweetheart All-Tobacco Cuban Cigarettes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He entered and managed to make his purchase in a matter-of-fact way, as if
+      he were doing something quite unemotional; then he said to the clerk:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, by the by&mdash;ah&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The clerk stared. &ldquo;Well, what else?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I mean,&rdquo; said William, hurriedly, &ldquo;there's something I wanted to 'tend
+      to, now I happen to be here. I was on my way to take this overcoat to&mdash;to
+      get something altered at the tailor's for next winter. 'Course I wouldn't
+      want it till winter, but I thought I might as well get it DONE.&rdquo; He
+      paused, laughing carelessly, for greater plausibility. &ldquo;I thought he'd
+      prob'ly want lots of time on the job&mdash;he's a slow worker, I've
+      noticed&mdash;and so I decided I might just as well go ahead and let him
+      get at it. Well, so I was on my way there, but I just noticed I only got
+      about six minutes more to get to a mighty important engagement I got this
+      morning, and I'd like to leave it here and come by and get it on my way
+      home, this evening.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sure,&rdquo; said the clerk. &ldquo;Hang it on that hook inside the
+      p'scription-counter. There's one there already, b'longs to your friend,
+      that young Bullitt fella. He was in here awhile ago and said he wanted to
+      leave his because he didn't have time to take it to be pressed in time for
+      next winter. Then he went on and joined that crowd in Mr. Parcher's yard,
+      around the corner, that's goin' on a trolley-party. I says, 'I betcher
+      mother maje carry it,' and he says, 'Oh no. Oh no,' he says. 'Honest, I
+      was goin' to get it pressed!' You can hang yours on the same nail.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The clerk spoke no more, and went to serve another customer, while William
+      stared after him a little uneasily. It seemed that here was a man of
+      suspicious nature, though, of course, Joe Bullitt's shallow talk about
+      getting an overcoat pressed before winter would not have imposed upon
+      anybody. However, William felt strongly that the private life of the
+      customers of a store should not be pried into and speculated about by
+      employees, and he was conscious of a distaste for this clerk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nevertheless, it was with a lighter heart that he left his overcoat behind
+      him and stepped out of the side door of the drug-store. That brought him
+      within sight of the gaily dressed young people, about thirty in number,
+      gathered upon the small lawn beside Mr. Parcher's house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Pratt stood among them, in heliotrope and white, Flopit nestling in
+      her arms. She was encircled by girls who were enthusiastically caressing
+      the bored and blinking Flopit; and when William beheld this charming
+      group, his breath became eccentric, his knee-caps became cold and
+      convulsive, his neck became hot, and he broke into a light perspiration.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She saw him! The small blonde head and the delirious little fluffy hat
+      above it shimmered a nod to him. Then his mouth fell unconsciously open,
+      and his eyes grew glassy with the intensity of meaning he put into the
+      silent response he sent across the picket fence and through the
+      interstices of the intervening group. Pressing with his elbow upon the
+      package of cigarettes in his pocket, he murmured, inaudibly, &ldquo;My Little
+      Sweetheart, always for you!&rdquo;&mdash;a repetition of his vow that, come what
+      might, he would forever remain a loyal smoker of that symbolic brand. In
+      fact, William's mental condition had never shown one moment's turn for the
+      better since the fateful day of the distracting visitor's arrival.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Johnnie Watson and Mr. Joe Bullitt met him at the gate and offered him
+      hearty greeting. All bickering and dissension among these three had
+      passed. The lady was so wondrous impartial that, as time went on, the
+      sufferers had come to be drawn together, rather than thrust asunder, by
+      their common feeling. It had grown to be a bond uniting them; they were
+      not so much rivals as ardent novices serving a single altar, each
+      worshiping there without visible gain over the other. Each had even come
+      to possess, in the eyes of his two fellows, almost a sacredness as a
+      sharer in the celestial glamor; they were tender one with another. They
+      were in the last stages.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Johnnie Watson had with him to-day a visitor of his own&mdash;a vastly
+      overgrown person of eighteen, who, at Johnnie's beckoning, abandoned a
+      fair companion of the moment and came forward as William entered the gate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I want to intradooce you to two of my most int'mut friends, George,&rdquo; said
+      Johnnie, with the anxious gravity of a person about to do something
+      important and unfamiliar. &ldquo;Mr. Baxter, let me intradooce my cousin, Mr.
+      Crooper. Mr. Crooper, this is my friend, Mr. Baxter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The gentlemen shook hands solemnly, saying,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'M very glad to meet you,&rdquo; and Johnnie turned to Joe Bullitt. &ldquo;Mr. Croo&mdash;I
+      mean, Mr. Bullitt, let me intradooce my friend, Mr. Crooper&mdash;I mean
+      my cousin, Mr. Crooper. Mr. Crooper is a cousin of mine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Glad to make your acquaintance, Mr. Crooper,&rdquo; said Joe. &ldquo;I suppose you're
+      a cousin of Johnnie's, then?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yep,&rdquo; said Mr. Crooper, becoming more informal. &ldquo;Johnnie wrote me to come
+      over for this shindig, so I thought I might as well come.&rdquo; He laughed
+      loudly, and the others laughed with the same heartiness. &ldquo;Yessir,&rdquo; he
+      added, &ldquo;I thought I might as well come, 'cause I'm pretty apt to be on
+      hand if there's anything doin'!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, that's right,&rdquo; said William, and while they all laughed again, Mr.
+      Crooper struck his cousin a jovial blow upon the back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hi, ole sport!&rdquo; he cried, &ldquo;I want to meet that Miss Pratt before we
+      start. The car'll be along pretty soon, and I got her picked for the girl
+      I'm goin' to sit by.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The laughter of William and Joe Bullitt, designed to express cordiality,
+      suddenly became flaccid and died. If Mr. Crooper had been a sensitive
+      person he might have perceived the chilling disapproval in their glances,
+      for they had just begun to be most unfavorably impressed with him. The
+      careless loudness&mdash;almost the notoriety&mdash;with which he had
+      uttered Miss Pratt's name, demanding loosely to be presented to her,
+      regardless of the well-known law that a lady must first express some wish
+      in such matters&mdash;these were indications of a coarse nature sure to be
+      more than uncongenial to Miss Pratt. Its presence might make the whole
+      occasion distasteful to her&mdash;might spoil her day. Both William and
+      Joe Bullitt began to wonder why on earth Johnnie Watson didn't have any
+      more sense than to invite such a big, fat lummox of a cousin to the party.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This severe phrase of theirs, almost simultaneous in the two minds, was
+      not wholly a failure as a thumb-nail sketch of Mr. George Crooper. And yet
+      there was the impressiveness of size about him, especially about his legs
+      and chin. At seventeen and eighteen growth is still going on, sometimes in
+      a sporadic way, several parts seeming to have sprouted faster than others.
+      Often the features have not quite settled down together in harmony, a
+      mouth, for instance, appearing to have gained such a lead over the rest of
+      a face, that even a mother may fear it can never be overtaken. Voices,
+      too, often seem misplaced; one hears, outside the door, the bass rumble of
+      a sinister giant, and a mild boy, thin as a cricket, walks in. The
+      contrary was George Crooper's case; his voice was an unexpected piping
+      tenor, half falsetto and frequently girlish&mdash;as surprising as the
+      absurd voice of an elephant.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had the general outwardness of a vast and lumpy child. His chin had so
+      distanced his other features that his eyes, nose, and brow seemed almost
+      baby-like in comparison, while his mountainous legs were the great part of
+      the rest of him. He was one of those huge, bottle-shaped boys who are
+      always in motion in spite of their cumbersomeness. His gestures were
+      continuous, though difficult to interpret as bearing upon the subject of
+      his equally continuous conversation; and under all circumstances he kept
+      his conspicuous legs incessantly moving, whether he was going anywhere or
+      remaining in comparatively one spot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His expression was pathetically offensive, the result of his bland
+      confidence in the audible opinions of a small town whereof his father was
+      the richest inhabitant&mdash;and the one thing about him, even more
+      obvious than his chin, his legs, and his spectacular taste in flannels,
+      was his perfect trust that he was as welcome to every one as he was to his
+      mother. This might some day lead him in the direction of great pain, but
+      on the occasion of the &ldquo;subscription party&rdquo; for Miss Pratt it gave him an
+      advantage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When do I get to meet that cutie?&rdquo; he insisted, as Johnnie Watson moved
+      backward from the cousinly arm, which threatened further flailing. &ldquo;You
+      intradooced me to about seven I can't do much FOR, but I want to get the
+      howdy business over with this Miss Pratt, so I and she can get things
+      started. I'm goin' to keep her busy all day!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, don't be in such a hurry,&rdquo; said Johnnie, uneasily. &ldquo;You can meet
+      her when we get out in the country&mdash;if I get a chance, George.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, sir!&rdquo; George protested, jovially. &ldquo;I guess you're sad birds over in
+      this town, but look out! When I hit a town it don't take long till they
+      all hear there's something doin'! You know how I am when I get started,
+      Johnnie!&rdquo; Here he turned upon William, tucking his fat arm affectionately
+      through William's thin one. &ldquo;Hi, sport! Ole Johnnie's so slow, YOU toddle
+      me over and get me fixed up with this Miss Pratt, and I'll tell her you're
+      the real stuff&mdash;after we get engaged!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He was evidently a true cloud-compeller, this horrible George.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0022" id="link2H_4_0022">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      XIX
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      &ldquo;I DUNNO WHY IT IS&rdquo;
+     </h3>
+    <p>
+      William extricated his arm, huskily muttering words which were lost in the
+      general outcry, &ldquo;Car's coming!&rdquo; The young people poured out through the
+      gate, and, as the car stopped, scrambled aboard. For a moment everything
+      was hurried and confused. William struggled anxiously to push through to
+      Miss Pratt and climb up beside her, but Mr. George Crooper made his way
+      into the crowd in a beaming, though bull-like manner, and a fat back in a
+      purple-and-white &ldquo;blazer&rdquo; flattened William's nose, while ponderous heels
+      damaged William's toes; he was shoved back, and just managed to clamber
+      upon the foot-board as the car started. The friendly hand of Joe Bullitt
+      pulled him to a seat, and William found himself rubbing his nose and
+      sitting between Joe and Johnnie Watson, directly behind the dashing
+      Crooper and Miss Pratt. Mr. Crooper had already taken Flopit upon his lap.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dogs are always crazy 'bout me,&rdquo; they heard him say, for his high voice
+      was but too audible over all other sounds. &ldquo;Dogs and chuldren. I dunno why
+      it is, but they always take to me. My name's George Crooper, Third,
+      Johnnie Watson's cousin. He was tryin' to intradooce me before the car
+      came along, but he never got the chance. I guess as this shindig's for
+      you, and I'm the only other guest from out o' town, we'll have to
+      intradooce ourselves&mdash;the two guests of honor, as it were.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Pratt laughed her silvery laugh, murmured politely, and turned no
+      freezing glance upon her neighbor. Indeed, it seemed that she was far from
+      regarding him with the distaste anticipated by William and Joe Bullitt.
+      &ldquo;Flopit look so toot an' tunnin',&rdquo; she was heard to remark. &ldquo;Flopit look
+      so 'ittle on dray, big, 'normous man's lap.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Crooper laughed deprecatingly. &ldquo;He does look kind of small compared
+      with the good ole man that's got charge of him, now! Well, I always was a
+      good deal bigger than the fellas I went with. I dunno why it is, but I was
+      always kind of quicker, too, as it were&mdash;and the strongest in any
+      crowd I ever got with. I'm kind of musclebound, I guess, but I don't let
+      that interfere with my quickness any. Take me in an automobile, now&mdash;I
+      got a racin'-car at home&mdash;and I keep my head better than most people
+      do, as it were. I can kind of handle myself better; I dunno why it is. My
+      brains seem to work better than other people's, that's all it is. I don't
+      mean that I got more sense, or anything like that; it's just the way my
+      brains work; they kind of put me at an advantage, as it were. Well,
+      f'rinstance, if I'd been livin' here in this town and joined in with the
+      crowd to get up this party, well, it would of been done a good deal
+      diff'rent. I won't say better, but diff'rent. That's always the way with
+      me if I go into anything, pretty soon I'm running the whole shebang; I
+      dunno why it is. The other people might try to run it their way for a
+      while, but pretty soon you notice 'em beginning to step out of the way for
+      good ole George. I dunno why it is, but that's the way it goes. Well, if
+      I'd been running THIS party I'd of had automobiles to go out in, not a
+      trolley-car where you all got to sit together&mdash;and I'd of sent over
+      home for my little racer and I'd of taken you out in her myself. I wish
+      I'd of sent for it, anyway. We could of let the rest go out in the
+      trolley, and you and I could of got off by ourselves: I'd like you to see
+      that little car. Well, anyway, I bet you'd of seen something pretty
+      different and a whole lot better if I'd of come over to this town in time
+      to get up this party for you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For US,&rdquo; Miss Pratt corrected him, sunnily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bofe strangers&mdash;party for us two&mdash;all bofe!&rdquo; And she gave him
+      one of her looks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Crooper flushed with emotion; he was annexed; he became serious.
+      &ldquo;Say,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that's a mighty smooth hat you got on.&rdquo; And he touched
+      the fluffy rim of it with his forefinger. His fat shoulders leaned toward
+      her yearningly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We'd cert'nly of had a lot better time sizzin' along in that little racer
+      I got,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I'd like to had you see how I handle that little car.
+      Girls over home, they say they like to go out with me just to watch the
+      way I handle her; they say it ain't so much just the ride, but more the
+      way I handle that little car. I dunno why it is, but that's what they say.
+      That's the way I do anything I make up my mind to tackle, though. I don't
+      try to tackle everything&mdash;there's lots o' things I wouldn't take
+      enough interest in 'em, as it were&mdash;but just lemme make up my mind
+      once, and it's all off; I dunno why it is. There was a brakeman on the
+      train got kind of fresh: he didn't know who I was. Well, I just put my
+      hand on his shoulder and pushed him down in his seat like this&rdquo;&mdash;he
+      set his hand upon Miss Pratt's shoulder. &ldquo;I didn't want to hit him,
+      because there was women and chuldren in the car, so I just shoved my face
+      up close to him, like this. 'I guess you don't know how much stock my
+      father's got in this road,' I says. Did he wilt? Well, you ought of seen
+      that brakeman when I got through tellin' him who I was!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nassy ole brateman!&rdquo; said Miss Pratt, with unfailing sympathy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Crooper's fat hand, as if unconsciously, gave Miss Pratt's delicate
+      shoulder a little pat in reluctant withdrawal. &ldquo;Well, that's the way with
+      me,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Much as I been around this world, nobody ever tried to put
+      anything over on me and got away with it. They always come out the little
+      end o' the horn; I dunno why it is. Say, that's a mighty smooth locket you
+      got on the end o' that chain, there.&rdquo; And again stretching forth his hand,
+      in a proprietor-like way, he began to examine the locket.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Three hot hearts, just behind, pulsated hatred toward him; for Johnnie
+      Watson had perceived his error, and his sentiments were now linked to
+      those of Joe Bullitt and William. The unhappiness of these three helpless
+      spectators was the more poignant because not only were they witnesses of
+      the impression of greatness which George Crooper was obviously producing
+      upon Miss Pratt, but they were unable to prevent themselves from being
+      likewise impressed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They were not analytical; they dumbly accepted George at his own rating,
+      not even being able to charge him with lack of modesty. Did he not always
+      accompany his testimonials to himself with his deprecating falsetto laugh
+      and &ldquo;I dunno why it is,&rdquo; an official disclaimer of merit, &ldquo;as it were&rdquo;?
+      Here was a formidable candidate, indeed&mdash;a traveler, a man of the
+      world, with brains better and quicker than other people's brains; an
+      athlete, yet knightly&mdash;he would not destroy even a brakeman in the
+      presence of women and children&mdash;and, finally, most enviable and
+      deadly, the owner and operator of a &ldquo;little racer&rdquo;! All this glitter was
+      not far short of overpowering; and yet, though accepting it as fact, the
+      woeful three shared the inconsistent belief that in spite of everything
+      George was nothing but a big, fat lummox. For thus they even rather loudly
+      whispered of him&mdash;almost as if hopeful that Miss Pratt, and mayhap
+      George himself, might overhear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Impotent their seething! The overwhelming Crooper pursued his conquering
+      way. He leaned more and more toward the magnetic girl, his growing
+      tenderness having that effect upon him, and his head inclining so far that
+      his bedewed brow now and then touched the fluffy hat. He was
+      constitutionally restless, but his movements never ended by placing a
+      greater distance between himself and Miss Pratt, though they sometimes
+      discommoded Miss Parcher, who sat at the other side of him&mdash;a side of
+      him which appeared to be without consciousness. He played naively with
+      Miss Pratt's locket and with the filmy border of her collar; he flicked
+      his nose for some time with her little handkerchief, loudly sniffing its
+      scent; and finally he became interested in a ring she wore, removed it,
+      and tried unsuccessfully to place it upon one of his own fingers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've worn lots o' girls' rings on my watch-fob. I'd let 'em wear mine on
+      a chain or something. I guess they like to do that with me,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I
+      dunno why it is.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At this subtle hint the three unfortunates held their breath, and then
+      lost it as the lovely girl acquiesced in the horrible exchange. As for
+      William, life was of no more use to him. Out of the blue heaven of that
+      bright morning's promise had fallen a pall, draping his soul in black and
+      purple. He had been horror-stricken when first the pudgy finger of George
+      Crooper had touched the fluffy edge of that sacred little hat; then,
+      during George's subsequent pawings and leanings, William felt that he must
+      either rise and murder or go mad. But when the exchange of rings was
+      accomplished, his spirit broke and even resentment oozed away. For a time
+      there was no room in him for anything except misery.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dully, William's eyes watched the fat shoulders hitching and twitching,
+      while the heavy arms flourished in gesture and in further pawings. Again
+      and again were William's ears afflicted with, &ldquo;I dunno why it is,&rdquo;
+       following upon tribute after tribute paid by Mr. Crooper to himself, and
+      received with little cries of admiration and sweet child-words on the part
+      of Miss Pratt. It was a long and accursed ride.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0023" id="link2H_4_0023">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      XX
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      SYDNEY CARTON
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      At the farm-house where the party were to dine, Miss Pratt with joy
+      discovered a harmonium in the parlor, and, seating herself, with all the
+      girls, Flopit, and Mr. George Crooper gathered around her, she played an
+      accompaniment, while George, in a thin tenor of detestable sweetness, sang
+      &ldquo;I'm Falling in Love with Some One.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His performance was rapturously greeted, especially by the accompanist.
+      &ldquo;Oh, wunnerfulest Untle Georgiecums!&rdquo; she cried, for that was now the
+      gentleman's name. &ldquo;If Johnnie McCormack hear Untle Georgiecums he go shoot
+      umself dead&mdash;Bang!&rdquo; She looked round to where three figures hovered
+      morosely in the rear. &ldquo;Tum on, sin' chorus, Big Bruvva Josie-Joe, Johnny
+      Jump-up, an' Ickle Boy Baxter. All over adain, Untle Georgiecums! Boys an'
+      dirls all sin' chorus. Tummence!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And so the heartrending performance continued until it was stopped by
+      Wallace Banks, the altruistic and perspiring youth who had charge of the
+      subscription-list for the party, and the consequent collection of
+      assessments. This entitled Wallace to look haggard and to act as master of
+      ceremonies. He mounted a chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ladies and gentlemen,&rdquo; he bellowed, &ldquo;I want to say&mdash;that is&mdash;ah&mdash;I
+      am requested to announce t that before dinner we're all supposed to take a
+      walk around the farm and look at things, as this is supposed to be kind of
+      a model farm or supposed to be something like that. There's a Swedish lady
+      named Anna going to show us around. She's out in the yard waiting, so
+      please follow her to inspect the farm.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      To inspect a farm was probably the least of William's desires. He wished
+      only to die in some quiet spot and to have Miss Pratt told about it in
+      words that would show her what she had thrown away. But he followed with
+      the others, in the wake of the Swedish lady named Anna, and as they stood
+      in the cavernous hollow of the great barn he found his condition suddenly
+      improved.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Pratt turned to him unexpectedly and placed Flopit in his arms. &ldquo;Keep
+      p'eshus Flopit cozy,&rdquo; she whispered. &ldquo;Flopit love ole friends best!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      William's heart leaped, while a joyous warmth spread all over him. And
+      though the execrable lummox immediately propelled Miss Pratt forward&mdash;by
+      her elbow&mdash;to hear the descriptive remarks of the Swedish lady named
+      Anna, William's soul remained uplifted and entranced. She had not said
+      &ldquo;like&rdquo;; she had said, &ldquo;Flopit LOVE ole friends best&rdquo;! William pressed
+      forward valiantly, and placed himself as close as possible upon the right
+      of Miss Pratt, the lummox being upon her left. A moment later, William
+      wished that he had remained in the rear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This was due to the unnecessary frankness of the Swedish lady named Anna,
+      who was briefly pointing out the efficiency of various agricultural
+      devices. Her attention being diverted by some effusions of pride on the
+      part of a passing hen, she thought fit to laugh and say:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She yust laid egg.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      William shuddered. This grossness in the presence of Miss Pratt was
+      unthinkable. His mind refused to deal with so impossible a situation; he
+      could not accept it as a fact that such words had actually been uttered in
+      such a presence. And yet it was the truth; his incredulous ears still
+      sizzled. &ldquo;She yust laid egg!&rdquo; His entire skin became flushed; his averted
+      eyes glazed themselves with shame.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was not the only person shocked by the ribaldry of the Swedish lady
+      named Anna. Joe Bullitt and Johnnie Watson, on the outskirts of the group,
+      went to Wallace Banks, drew him aside, and, with feverish eloquence, set
+      his responsibilities before him. It was his duty, they urged, to have an
+      immediate interview with this free-spoken Anna and instruct her in the
+      proprieties. Wallace had been almost as horrified as they by her loose
+      remark, but he declined the office they proposed for him, offering,
+      however, to appoint them as a committee with authority in the matter&mdash;whereupon
+      they retorted with unreasonable indignation, demanding to know what he
+      took them for.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Unconscious of the embarrassment she had caused in these several masculine
+      minds, the Swedish lady named Anna led the party onward, continuing her
+      agricultural lecture. William walked mechanically, his eyes averted and
+      looking at no one. And throughout this agony he was burningly conscious of
+      the blasphemed presence of Miss Pratt beside him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Therefore, it was with no little surprise, when the party came out of the
+      barn, that William beheld Miss Pratt, not walking at his side, but on the
+      contrary, sitting too cozily with George Crooper upon a fallen tree at the
+      edge of a peach-orchard just beyond the barn-yard. It was Miss Parcher who
+      had been walking beside him, for the truant couple had made their escape
+      at the beginning of the Swedish lady's discourse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In vain William murmured to himself, &ldquo;Flopit love ole friends best.&rdquo;
+       Purple and black again descended upon his soul, for he could not disguise
+      from himself the damnatory fact that George had flitted with the lady,
+      while he, wretched William, had been permitted to take care of the dog!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A spark of dignity still burned within him. He strode to the barn-yard
+      fence, and, leaning over it, dropped Flopit rather brusquely at his
+      mistress's feet. Then, without a word even without a look&mdash;William
+      walked haughtily away, continuing his stern progress straight through the
+      barn-yard gate, and thence onward until he found himself in solitude upon
+      the far side of a smoke-house, where his hauteur vanished.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Here, in the shade of a great walnut-tree which sheltered the little
+      building, he gave way&mdash;not to tears, certainly, but to faint
+      murmurings and little heavings under impulses as ancient as young love
+      itself. It is to be supposed that William considered his condition a
+      lonely one, but if all the seventeen-year-olds who have known such
+      halfhours could have shown themselves to him then, he would have fled from
+      the mere horror of billions. Alas! he considered his sufferings a new
+      invention in the world, and there was now inspired in his breast a
+      monologue so eloquently bitter that it might deserve some such title as A
+      Passion Beside the Smoke-house. During the little time that William spent
+      in this sequestration he passed through phases of emotion which would have
+      kept an older man busy for weeks and left him wrecked at the end of them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      William's final mood was one of beautiful resignation with a kick in it;
+      that is, he nobly gave her up to George and added irresistibly that George
+      was a big, fat lummox! Painting pictures, such as the billions of other
+      young sufferers before him have painted, William saw himself a sad, gentle
+      old bachelor at the family fireside, sometimes making the sacrifice of his
+      reputation so that SHE and the children might never know the truth about
+      George; and he gave himself the solace of a fierce scene or two with
+      George: &ldquo;Remember, it is for them, not you&mdash;you THING!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      After this human little reaction he passed to a higher field of romance.
+      He would die for George and then she would bring the little boy she had
+      named William to the lonely headstone&mdash;Suddenly William saw himself
+      in his true and fitting character&mdash;Sydney Carton! He had lately read
+      A Tale of Two Cities, immediately re-reading until, as he would have said,
+      he &ldquo;knew it by heart&rdquo;; and even at the time he had seen resemblances
+      between himself and the appealing figure of Carton. Now that the sympathy
+      between them was perfected by Miss Pratt's preference for another, William
+      decided to mount the scaffold in place of George Crooper. The scene became
+      actual to him, and, setting one foot upon a tin milk-pail which some one
+      had carelessly left beside the smoke-house, he lifted his eyes to the
+      pitiless blue sky and unconsciously assumed the familiar attitude of
+      Carton on the steps of the guillotine. He spoke aloud those great last
+      words:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a
+      far, far better rest that I go to&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A whiskered head on the end of a long, corrugated red neck protruded from
+      the smokehouse door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What say?&rdquo; it inquired, huskily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nun-nothing!&rdquo; stammered William.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Eyes above whiskers became fierce. &ldquo;You take your feet off that
+      milk-bucket. Say! This here's a sanitary farm. 'Ain't you got any more
+      sense 'n to go an'&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But William had abruptly removed his foot and departed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He found the party noisily established in the farm-house at two long
+      tables piled with bucolic viands already being violently depleted. Johnnie
+      Watson had kept a chair beside himself vacant for William. Johnnie was in
+      no frame of mind to sit beside any &ldquo;chattering girl,&rdquo; and he had protected
+      himself by Joe Bullitt upon his right and the empty seat upon his left.
+      William took it, and gazed upon the nearer foods with a slight renewal of
+      animation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He began to eat; he continued to eat; in fact, he did well. So did his two
+      comrades. Not that the melancholy of these three was dispersed&mdash;far
+      from it! With ineffaceable gloom they ate chicken, both white meat and
+      dark, drumsticks, wishbones, and livers; they ate corn-on-the-cob, many
+      ears, and fried potatoes and green peas and string-beans; they ate peach
+      preserves and apricot preserves and preserved pears; they ate biscuits
+      with grape jelly and biscuits with crabapple jelly; they ate apple sauce
+      and apple butter and apple pie. They ate pickles, both cucumber pickles
+      and pickles made of watermelon rind; they ate pickled tomatoes, pickled
+      peppers, also pickled onions. They ate lemon pie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At that, they were no rivals to George Crooper, who was a real eater. Love
+      had not made his appetite ethereal to-day, and even the attending Swedish
+      lady named Anna felt some apprehension when it came to George and the
+      gravy, though she was accustomed to the prodigies performed in this line
+      by the robust hands on the farm. George laid waste his section of the
+      table, and from the beginning he allowed himself scarce time to say, &ldquo;I
+      dunno why it is.&rdquo; The pretty companion at his side at first gazed
+      dumfounded; then, with growing enthusiasm for what promised to be a really
+      magnificent performance, she began to utter little ejaculations of wonder
+      and admiration. With this music in his ears, George outdid himself. He
+      could not resist the temptation to be more and more astonishing as a
+      heroic comedian, for these humors sometimes come upon vain people at
+      country dinners.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      George ate when he had eaten more than he needed; he ate long after every
+      one understood why he was so vast; he ate on and on sheerly as a flourish&mdash;as
+      a spectacle. He ate even when he himself began to understand that there
+      was daring in what he did, for his was a toreador spirit so long as he
+      could keep bright eyes fastened upon him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Finally, he ate to decide wagers made upon his gorging, though at times
+      during this last period his joviality deserted him. Anon his damp brow
+      would be troubled, and he knew moments of thoughtfulness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0024" id="link2H_4_0024">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      XXI
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      MY LITTLE SWEETHEARTS
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      When George did stop, it was abruptly, during one of these intervals of
+      sobriety, and he and Miss Pratt came out of the house together rather
+      quietly, joining one of the groups of young people chatting with
+      after-dinner languor under the trees. However, Mr. Crooper began to revive
+      presently, in the sweet air of outdoors, and, observing some of the more
+      flashing gentlemen lighting cigarettes, he was moved to laughter. He had
+      not smoked since his childhood&mdash;having then been bonded through to
+      twenty-one with a pledge of gold&mdash;and he feared that these smoking
+      youths might feel themselves superior. Worse, Miss Pratt might be
+      impressed, therefore he laughed in scorn, saying:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Burnin' up ole trash around here, I expect!&rdquo; He sniffed searchingly.
+      &ldquo;Somebody's set some ole rags on fire.&rdquo; Then, as in discovery, he cried,
+      &ldquo;Oh no, only cigarettes!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Pratt, that tactful girl, counted four smokers in the group about
+      her, and only one abstainer, George. She at once defended the smokers, for
+      it is to be feared that numbers always had weight with her. &ldquo;Oh, but
+      cigarettes is lubly smell!&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Untle Georgiecums maybe be too
+      'ittle boy for smokings!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This archness was greeted loudly by the smokers, and Mr. Crooper was put
+      upon his mettle. He spoke too quickly to consider whether or no the facts
+      justified his assertion. &ldquo;Me? I don't smoke paper and ole carpets. I smoke
+      cigars!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He had created the right impression, for Miss Pratt clapped her hands.
+      &ldquo;Oh, 'plendid! Light one, Untle Georgiecums! Light one ever 'n' ever so
+      quick! P'eshus Flopit an' me we want see dray, big, 'normous man smoke
+      dray, big, 'normous cigar!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      William and Johnnie Watson, who had been hovering morbidly, unable to
+      resist the lodestone, came nearer, Johnnie being just in time to hear his
+      cousin's reply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I forgot my cigar-case.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Johnnie's expression became one of biting skepticism. &ldquo;What you talkin'
+      about, George? Didn't you promise Uncle George you'd never smoke till
+      you're of age, and Uncle George said he'd give you a thousand dollars on
+      your twenty-first birthday? What 'd you say about your 'cigar-case'?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      George felt that he was in a tight place, and the lovely eyes of Miss
+      Pratt turned upon him questioningly. He could not flush, for he was
+      already so pink after his exploits with unnecessary nutriment that more
+      pinkness was impossible. He saw that the only safety for him lay in
+      boisterous prevarication. &ldquo;A thousand dollars!&rdquo; he laughed loudly. &ldquo;I
+      thought that was real money when I was ten years old! It didn't stand in
+      MY way very long, I guess! Good ole George wanted his smoke, and he went
+      after it! You know how I am, Johnnie, when I go after anything. I been
+      smokin' cigars I dunno how long!&rdquo; Glancing about him, his eye became
+      reassured; it was obvious that even Johnnie had accepted this airy
+      statement as the truth, and to clinch plausibility he added: &ldquo;When I
+      smoke, I smoke! I smoke cigars straight along&mdash;light one right on the
+      stub of the other. I only wish I had some with me, because I miss 'em
+      after a meal. I'd give a good deal for something to smoke right now! I
+      don't mean cigarettes; I don't want any paper&mdash;I want something
+      that's all tobacco!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      William's pale, sad face showed a hint of color. With a pang he remembered
+      the package of My Little Sweetheart All-Tobacco Cuban Cigarettes (the
+      Package of Twenty for Ten Cents) which still reposed, untouched, in the
+      breast pocket of his coat. His eyes smarted a little as he recalled the
+      thoughts and hopes that had accompanied the purchase; but he thought,
+      &ldquo;What would Sydney Carton do?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      William brought forth the package of My Little Sweetheart All-Tobacco
+      Cuban Cigarettes and placed it in the large hand of George Crooper. And
+      this was a noble act, for William believed that George really wished to
+      smoke. &ldquo;Here,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;take these; they're all tobacco. I'm goin' to
+      quit smokin', anyway.&rdquo; And, thinking of the name, he added, gently, with a
+      significance lost upon all his hearers, &ldquo;I'm sure you ought to have 'em
+      instead of me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then he went away and sat alone upon the fence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Light one, light one!&rdquo; cried Miss Pratt. &ldquo;Ev'ybody mus' be happy, an'
+      dray, big, 'normous man tan't be happy 'less he have his all-tobatto
+      smote. Light it, light it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      George drew as deep a breath as his diaphragm, strangely oppressed since
+      dinner, would permit, and then bravely lit a Little Sweetheart. There must
+      have been some valiant blood in him, for, as he exhaled the smoke, he
+      covered a slight choking by exclaiming, loudly: &ldquo;THAT'S good! That's the
+      ole stuff! That's what I was lookin' for!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Pratt was entranced. &ldquo;Oh, 'plendid!&rdquo; she cried, watching him with
+      fascinated eyes. &ldquo;Now take dray, big, 'normous puffs! Take dray, big,
+      'NORMOUS puffs!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      George took great, big, enormous puffs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She declared that she loved to watch men smoke, and William's heart, as he
+      sat on the distant fence, was wrung and wrung again by the vision of her
+      playful ecstasies. But when he saw her holding what was left of the first
+      Little Sweetheart for George to light a second at its expiring spark, he
+      could not bear it. He dropped from the fence and moped away to be out of
+      sight once more. This was his darkest hour.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Studiously avoiding the vicinity of the smokehouse, he sought the little
+      orchard where he had beheld her sitting with George; and there he sat
+      himself in sorrowful reverie upon the selfsame fallen tree. How long he
+      remained there is uncertain, but he was roused by the sound of music which
+      came from the lawn before the farmhouse. Bitterly he smiled, remembering
+      that Wallace Banks had engaged Italians with harp, violin, and flute,
+      promising great things for dancing on a fresh-clipped lawn&mdash;a turf
+      floor being no impediment to seventeen's dancing. Music! To see her
+      whirling and smiling sunnily in the fat grasp of that dancing bear! He
+      would stay in this lonely orchard; SHE would not miss him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But though he hated the throbbing music and the sound of the laughing
+      voices that came to him, he could not keep away&mdash;and when he reached
+      the lawn where the dancers were, he found Miss Pratt moving rhythmically
+      in the thin grasp of Wallace Banks. Johnnie Watson approached, and spoke
+      in a low tone, tinged with spiteful triumph.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, anyway, ole fat George didn't get the first dance with her! She's
+      the guest of honor, and Wallace had a right to it because he did all the
+      work. He came up to 'em and ole fat George couldn't say a thing. Wallace
+      just took her right away from him. George didn't say anything at all, but
+      I s'pose after this dance he'll be rushin' around again and nobody else
+      'll have a chance to get near her the rest of the afternoon. My mother
+      told me I ought to invite him over here, out I had no business to do it;
+      he don't know the first principles of how to act in a town he don't live
+      in!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where'd he go?&rdquo; William asked, listlessly, for Mr. Crooper was nowhere in
+      sight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know&mdash;he just walked off without sayin' anything. But he'll
+      be back, time this dance is over, never you fear, and he'll grab her again
+      and&mdash;What's the matter with Joe?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Joseph Bullitt had made his appearance at a corner of the house, some
+      distance from where they stood. His face was alert under the impulse of
+      strong excitement, and he beckoned fiercely. &ldquo;Come here!&rdquo; And, when they
+      had obeyed, &ldquo;He's around back of the house by a kind of shed,&rdquo; said Joe.
+      &ldquo;I think something's wrong. Come on, I'll show him to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But behind the house, whither they followed him in vague, strange hope, he
+      checked them. &ldquo;LOOK THERE!&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His pointing finger was not needed. Sounds of paroxysm drew their
+      attention sufficiently&mdash;sounds most poignant, soul-rending, and
+      lugubrious. William and Johnnie perceived the large person of Mr. Crooper;
+      he was seated upon the ground, his back propped obliquely against the
+      smoke-house, though this attitude was not maintained constantly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Facing him, at a little distance, a rugged figure in homely garments stood
+      leaning upon a hoe and regarding George with a cold interest. The apex of
+      this figure was a volcanic straw hat, triangular in profile and coned with
+      an open crater emitting reddish wisps, while below the hat were several
+      features, but more whiskers, at the top of a long, corrugated red neck of
+      sterling worth. A husky voice issued from the whiskers, addressing George.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I seen you!&rdquo; it said. &ldquo;I seen you eatin'! This here farm is supposed to
+      be a sanitary farm, and you'd ought of knew better. Go it, doggone you! Go
+      it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      George complied. And three spectators, remaining aloof, but watching
+      zealously, began to feel their lost faith in Providence returning into
+      them; their faces brightened slowly, and without relapse. It was a visible
+      thing how the world became fairer and better in their eyes during that
+      little while they stood there. And William saw that his Little Sweethearts
+      had been an inspired purchase, after all; they had delivered the final tap
+      upon a tottering edifice. George's deeds at dinner had unsettled, but
+      Little Sweethearts had overthrown&mdash;and now there was awful work among
+      the ruins, to an ironical accompaniment of music from the front yard,
+      where people danced in heaven's sunshine!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This accompaniment came to a stop, and Johnnie Watson jumped. He seized
+      each of his companions by a sleeve and spoke eagerly, his eyes glowing
+      with a warm and brotherly light. &ldquo;Here!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;We better get around
+      there&mdash;this looks like it was goin' to last all afternoon. Joe, you
+      get the next dance with her, and just about time the music slows up you
+      dance her around so you can stop right near where Bill will be standin',
+      so Bill can get her quick for the dance after that. Then, Bill, you do the
+      same for me, and I'll do the same for Joe again, and then, Joe, you do it
+      for Bill again, and then Bill for me&mdash;and so on. If we go in right
+      now and work together we can crowd the rest out, and there won't anybody
+      else get to dance with her the whole day! Come on quick!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      United in purpose, the three ran lightly to the dancing-lawn, and Mr.
+      Bullitt was successful, after a little debate, in obtaining the next dance
+      with the lovely guest of the day. &ldquo;I did promise big Untle Georgiecums,&rdquo;
+       she said, looking about her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I don't think he'll come,&rdquo; said Joe. &ldquo;That is, I'm pretty sure he
+      won't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A shade fell upon the exquisite face. &ldquo;No'ty. Bruvva Josie-Joe! The Men
+      ALWAYS tum when Lola promises dances. Mustn't be rude!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well&mdash;&rdquo; Joe began, when he was interrupted by the Swedish lady named
+      Anna, who spoke to them from the steps of the house. Of the merrymakers
+      they were the nearest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dot pick fella,&rdquo; said Anna, &ldquo;dot one dot eats&mdash;we make him in a
+      petroom. He holler! He tank he neet some halp.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Does he want a doctor?&rdquo; Joe asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Doctor? No! He want make him in a amyoulance for hospital!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll go look at him,&rdquo; Johnnie Watson volunteered, running up. &ldquo;He's my
+      cousin, and I guess I got to take the responsibility.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Pratt paid the invalid the tribute of one faintly commiserating
+      glance toward the house. &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;if people would rather eat too
+      much than dance!&rdquo; She meant &ldquo;dance with ME!&rdquo; though she thought it
+      prettier not to say so. &ldquo;Come on, Bruvva Josie-Joe!&rdquo; she cried, joyously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And a little later Johnnie Watson approached her where she stood with a
+      restored and refulgent William, about to begin the succeeding dance.
+      Johnnie dropped into her hand a ring, receiving one in return. &ldquo;I thought
+      I better GET it,&rdquo; he said, offering no further explanation. &ldquo;I'll take
+      care of his until we get home. He's all right,&rdquo; said Johnnie, and then
+      perceiving a sudden advent of apprehension upon the sensitive brow of
+      William, he went on reassuringly: &ldquo;He's doin' as well as anybody could
+      expect; that is&mdash;after the crazy way he DID! He's always been
+      considered the dumbest one in all our relations&mdash;never did know how
+      to act. I don't mean he's exactly not got his senses, or ought to be
+      watched, anything like that&mdash;and of course he belongs to an awful
+      good family&mdash;but he's just kind of the black sheep when it comes to
+      intelligence, or anything like that. I got him as comfortable as a person
+      could be, and they're givin' him hot water and mustard and stuff, but what
+      he needs now is just to be kind of quiet. It'll do him a lot o' good,&rdquo;
+       Johnnie concluded, with a spark in his voice, &ldquo;to lay there the rest of
+      the afternoon and get quieted down, kind of.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don't think there's any&mdash;&rdquo; William began, and, after a pause,
+      continued&mdash;&ldquo;any hope&mdash;of his getting strong enough to come out
+      and dance afterwhile?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Johnnie shook his head. &ldquo;None in the world!&rdquo; he said, conclusively. &ldquo;The
+      best we can do for him is to let him entirely alone till after supper, and
+      then ask nobody to sit on the back seat of the trolley-car goin' home, so
+      we can make him comfortable back there, and let him kind of stretch out by
+      himself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then gaily tinkled harp, gaily sang flute and violin! Over the greensward
+      William lightly bore his lady, while radiant was the cleared sky above the
+      happy dancers. William's fingers touched those delicate fingers; the
+      exquisite face smiled rosily up to him; undreamable sweetness beat
+      rhythmically upon his glowing ears; his feet moved in a rhapsody of
+      companionship with hers. They danced and danced and danced!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then Joe danced with her, while William and Johnnie stood with hands upon
+      each other's shoulders and watched, mayhap with longing, but without
+      spite; then Johnnie danced with her while Joe and William watched&mdash;and
+      then William danced with her again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So passed the long, ineffable afternoon away&mdash;ah, Seventeen!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;... 'Jav a good time at the trolley-party?&rdquo; the clerk in the corner
+      drug-store inquired that evening.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fine!&rdquo; said William, taking his overcoat from the hook where he had left
+      it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How j' like them Little Sweethearts I sold you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;FINE!&rdquo; said William.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0025" id="link2H_4_0025">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      XXII
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      FORESHADOWINGS
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      Now the last rose had blown; the dandelion globes were long since on the
+      wind; gladioli and golden-glow and salvia were here; the season moved
+      toward asters and the goldenrod. This haloed summer still idled on its
+      way, yet all the while sped quickly; like some languid lady in an
+      elevator.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There came a Sunday&mdash;very hot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. and Mrs. Baxter, having walked a scorched half-mile from church,
+      drooped thankfully into wicker chairs upon their front porch, though Jane,
+      who had accompanied them, immediately darted away, swinging her hat by its
+      ribbon and skipping as lithesomely as if she had just come forth upon a
+      cool morning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know how she does it!&rdquo; her father moaned, glancing after her and
+      drying his forehead temporarily upon a handkerchief. &ldquo;That would merely
+      kill me dead, after walking in this heat.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then, for a time, the two were content to sit in silence, nodding to
+      occasional acquaintances who passed in the desultory after-church
+      procession. Mr. Baxter fanned himself with sporadic little bursts of
+      energy which made his straw hat creak, and Mrs. Baxter sighed with the
+      heat, and gently rocked her chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But as a group of five young people passed along the other side of the
+      street Mr. Baxter abruptly stopped fanning himself, and, following the
+      direction of his gaze, Mrs. Baxter ceased to rock. In half-completed
+      attitudes they leaned slightly forward, sharing one of those pauses of
+      parents who unexpectedly behold their offspring.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My soul!&rdquo; said William's father. &ldquo;Hasn't that girl gone home YET?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He looks pale to me,&rdquo; Mrs. Baxter murmured, absently. &ldquo;I don't think he
+      seems at all well, lately.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      During seventeen years Mr. Baxter had gradually learned not to protest
+      anxieties of this kind, unless he desired to argue with no prospect of
+      ever getting a decision. &ldquo;Hasn't she got any HOME?&rdquo; he demanded, testily.
+      &ldquo;Isn't she ever going to quit visiting the Parchers and let people have a
+      little peace?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Baxter disregarded this outburst as he had disregarded her remark
+      about William's pallor. &ldquo;You mean Miss Pratt?&rdquo; she inquired, dreamily, her
+      eyes following the progress of her son. &ldquo;No, he really doesn't look well
+      at all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is she going to visit the Parchers all summer?&rdquo; Mr. Baxter insisted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She already has, about,&rdquo; said Mrs. Baxter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look at that boy!&rdquo; the father grumbled. &ldquo;Mooning along with those other
+      moon-calves&mdash;can't even let her go to church alone! I wonder how many
+      weeks of time, counting it out in hours, he's wasted that way this
+      summer?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I don't know! You see, he never goes there in the evening.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What of that? He's there all day, isn't he? What do they find to talk
+      about? That's the mystery to me! Day after day; hours and hours&mdash;My
+      soul! What do they SAY?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Baxter laughed indulgently. &ldquo;People are always wondering that about
+      the other ages. Poor Willie! I think that a great deal of the time their
+      conversation would be probably about as inconsequent as it is now. You see
+      Willie and Joe Bullitt are walking one on each side of Miss Pratt, and
+      Johnnie Watson has to walk behind with May Parcher. Joe and Johnnie are
+      there about as much as Willie is, and, of course, it's often his turn to
+      be nice to May Parcher. He hasn't many chances to be tete-a-tete with Miss
+      Pratt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, she ought to go home. I want that boy to get back into his senses.
+      He's in an awful state.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think she is going soon,&rdquo; said Mrs. Baxter. &ldquo;The Parchers are to have a
+      dance for her Friday night, and I understand there's to be a floor laid in
+      the yard and great things. It's a farewell party.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's one mercy, anyhow!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And if you wonder what they say,&rdquo; she resumed, &ldquo;why, probably they're all
+      talking about the party. And when Willie IS alone with her&mdash;well,
+      what does anybody say?&rdquo; Mrs. Baxter interrupted herself to laugh. &ldquo;Jane,
+      for instance&mdash;she's always fascinated by that darky, Genesis, when
+      he's at work here in the yard, and they have long, long talks; I've seen
+      them from the window. What on earth do you suppose they talk about? That's
+      where Jane is now. She knew I told Genesis I'd give him something if he'd
+      come and freeze the ice-cream for us to-day, and when we got here she
+      heard the freezer and hopped right around there. If you went out to the
+      back porch you'd find them talking steadily&mdash;but what on earth about
+      I couldn't guess to save my life!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And yet nothing could have been simpler: as a matter of fact, Jane and
+      Genesis (attended by Clematis) were talking about society. That is to say,
+      their discourse was not sociologic; rather it was of the frivolous and
+      elegant. Watteau prevailed with them over John Stuart Mill&mdash;in a
+      word, they spoke of the beau monde.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Genesis turned the handle of the freezer with his left hand, allowing his
+      right the freedom of gesture which was an intermittent necessity when he
+      talked. In the matter of dress, Genesis had always been among the most
+      informal of his race, but to-day there was a change almost unnerving to
+      the Caucasian eye. He wore a balloonish suit of purple, strangely
+      scalloped at pocket and cuff, and more strangely decorated with lines of
+      small parasite buttons, in color blue, obviously buttons of leisure. His
+      bulbous new shoes flashed back yellow fire at the embarrassed sun, and his
+      collar (for he had gone so far) sent forth other sparkles, playing upon a
+      polished surface over an inner graining of soot. Beneath it hung a simple,
+      white, soiled evening tie, draped in a manner unintended by its
+      manufacturer, and heavily overburdened by a green glass medallion of the
+      Emperor Tiberius, set in brass.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yesm,&rdquo; said Genesis. &ldquo;Now I'm in 'at Swim&mdash;flyin' roun' ev'y night
+      wif all lem blue-vein people&mdash;I say, 'Mus' go buy me some blue-vein
+      clo'es! Ef I'm go'n' a START, might's well start HIGH!' So firs', I buy me
+      thishere gol' necktie pin wi' thishere lady's face carved out o' green
+      di'mon', sittin' in the middle all 'at gol'. 'Nen I buy me pair Royal King
+      shoes. I got a frien' o' mine, thishere Blooie Bowers; he say Royal King
+      shoes same kine o' shoes HE wear, an' I walk straight in 'at sto' where
+      they keep 'em at. 'Don' was'e my time showin' me no ole-time shoes,' I
+      say. 'Run out some them big, yella, lump-toed Royal Kings befo' my eyes,
+      an' firs' pair fit me I pay price, an' wear 'em right off on me!' 'Nen I
+      got me thishere suit o' clo'es&mdash;OH, oh! Sign on 'em in window: 'Ef
+      you wish to be bes'-dress' man in town take me home fer six dolluhs
+      ninety-sevum cents.' ''At's kine o' suit Genesis need,' I say. 'Ef Genesis
+      go'n' a start dressin' high, might's well start top!'&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane nodded gravely, comprehending the reasonableness of this view. &ldquo;What
+      made you decide to start, Genesis?&rdquo; she asked, earnestly. &ldquo;I mean, how did
+      it happen you began to get this way?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, suh, 'tall come 'bout right like kine o' slidin' into it 'stid o'
+      hoppin' an' jumpin'. I'z spen' the even' at 'at lady's house, Fanny, what
+      cook nex' do', las' year. Well, suh, 'at lady Fanny, she quit privut
+      cookin', she kaytliss&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She's what?&rdquo; Jane asked. &ldquo;What's that mean, Genesis&mdash;kaytliss?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She kaytuhs,&rdquo; he explained. &ldquo;Ef it's a man you call him kaytuh; ef it's a
+      lady, she's a kaytliss. She does kaytun fer all lem blue-vein fam'lies in
+      town. She make ref'eshmuns, bring waituhs&mdash;'at's kaytun. You' maw
+      give big dinnuh, she have Fanny kaytuh, an' don't take no trouble 'tall
+      herself. Fanny take all 'at trouble.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I see,&rdquo; said Jane. &ldquo;But I don't see how her bein' a kaytliss started you
+      to dressin' so high, Genesis.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thishere way. Fanny say, 'Look here, Genesis, I got big job t'morra night
+      an' I'm man short, 'count o' havin' to have a 'nouncer.'&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fanny talk jes' that way. Goin' be big dinnuh-potty, an' thishere
+      blue-vein fam'ly tell Fanny they want whole lot extry sploogin'; tell her
+      put fine-lookin' cullud man stan' by drawin'-room do'&mdash;ask ev'ybody
+      name an' holler out whatever name they say, jes' as they walk in. Thishere
+      fam'ly say they goin' show what's what, 'nis town, an' they boun' Fanny go
+      git 'em a 'nouncer. 'Well, what's mattuh YOU doin' 'at 'nouncin'?' Fanny
+      say. 'Who&mdash;me?' I tell her. 'Yes, you kin, too!' she say, an' she say
+      she len' me 'at waituh suit yoosta b'long ole Henry Gimlet what die' when
+      he owin' Fanny sixteen dolluhs&mdash;an' Fanny tuck an' keep 'at waituh
+      suit. She use 'at suit on extry waituhs when she got some on her hands
+      what 'ain't got no waituh suit. 'You wear 'at suit,' Fanny say, 'an' you
+      be good 'nouncer, 'cause you' a fine, big man, an' got a big, gran' voice;
+      'nen you learn befo' long be a waituh, Genesis, an' git dolluh an' half
+      ev'y even' you waitin ', 'sides all 'at money you make cuttin' grass
+      daytime.' Well, suh, I'z stan' up doin' 'at 'nouncin' ve'y nex' night.
+      White lady an' ge'lmun walk todes my do', I step up to 'em&mdash;I step up
+      to 'em thisaway.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Here Genesis found it pleasant to present the scene with some elaboration.
+      He dropped the handle of the freezer, rose, assumed a stately, but
+      ingratiating, expression, and &ldquo;stepped up&rdquo; to the imagined couple, using a
+      pacing and rhythmic gait&mdash;a conservative prance, which plainly
+      indicated the simultaneous operation of an orchestra. Then bending
+      graciously, as though the persons addressed were of dwarfish stature,
+      &ldquo;'Scuse me,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;but kin I please be so p'lite as to 'quiah you'
+      name?&rdquo; For a moment he listened attentively, then nodded, and, returning
+      with the same aristocratic undulations to an imaginary doorway near the
+      freezer, &ldquo;Misto an' Missuz Orlosko Rinktum!&rdquo; he proclaimed, sonorously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;WHO?&rdquo; cried Jane, fascinated. &ldquo;Genesis, 'nounce that again, right away!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Genesis heartily complied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Misto an' Missuz Orlosko Rinktum!&rdquo; he bawled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Was that really their names?&rdquo; she asked, eagerly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I kine o' fergit,&rdquo; Genesis admitted, resuming his work with the
+      freezer. &ldquo;Seem like I rickalect SOMEBODY got name good deal like what I
+      say, 'cause some mighty blue-vein names at 'at dinnuh-potty, yessuh! But I
+      on'y git to be 'nouncer one time, 'cause Fanny tellin' me nex' fam'ly have
+      dinnuh-potty make heap o' fun. Say I done my 'nouncin' GOOD, but say
+      what's use holler'n' names jes' fer some the neighbors or they own aunts
+      an' uncles to walk in, when ev'ybody awready knows 'em? So Fanny pummote
+      me to waituh, an' I roun' right in amongs' big doin's mos' ev'y night.
+      Pass ice-cream, lemonade, lemon-ice, cake, samwitches. 'Lemme han' you
+      li'l' mo' chicken salad, ma'am'&mdash;' 'Low me be so kine as to git you
+      f'esh cup coffee, suh'&mdash;'S way ole Genesis talkin' ev'y even' 'ese
+      days!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane looked at him thoughtfully. &ldquo;Do you like it better than cuttin'
+      grass, Genesis?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He paused to consider. &ldquo;Yes'm&mdash;when ban' play all lem TUNES! My
+      goo'ness, do soun' gran'!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You can't do it to-night, though, Genesis,&rdquo; said Jane. &ldquo;You haf to be
+      quiet on Sunday nights, don't you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm. 'Ain' got no mo' kaytun till nex' Friday even'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I bet that's the party for Miss Pratt at Mr. Parcher's!&rdquo; Jane cried.
+      &ldquo;Didn't I guess right?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm. I reckon I'm a-go'n' a see one you' fam'ly 'at night; see him
+      dancin'&mdash;wait on him at ref'eshmuns.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane's expression became even more serious than usual. &ldquo;Willie? I don't
+      know whether he's goin', Genesis.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lan' name!&rdquo; Genesis exclaimed. &ldquo;He die ef he don' git INvite to 'at
+      ball!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, he's invited,&rdquo; said Jane. &ldquo;Only I think maybe he won't go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My goo'ness! Why ain' he goin'?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane looked at her friend studiously before replying. &ldquo;Well, it's a
+      secret,&rdquo; she said, finally, &ldquo;but it's a very inter'sting one, an' I'll
+      tell you if you never tell.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm, I ain' tellin' nobody.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane glanced round, then stepped a little closer and told the secret with
+      the solemnity it deserved. &ldquo;Well, when Miss Pratt first came to visit Miss
+      May Parcher, Willie used to keep papa's evening clo'es in his window-seat,
+      an' mamma wondered what HAD become of 'em. Then, after dinner, he'd slip
+      up there an' put 'em on him, an' go out through the kitchen an' call on
+      Miss Pratt. Then mamma found 'em, an' she thought he oughtn't to do that,
+      so she didn't tell him or anything, an' she didn't even tell papa, but she
+      had the tailor make 'em ever an' ever so much bigger, 'cause they were
+      gettin' too tight for papa. An' well, so after that, even if Willie could
+      get 'em out o' mamma's clo'es-closet where she keeps 'em now, he'd look so
+      funny in 'em he couldn't wear 'em. Well, an' then he couldn't go to pay
+      calls on Miss Pratt in the evening since then, because mamma says after he
+      started to go there in that suit he couldn't go without it, or maybe Miss
+      Pratt or the other ones that's in love of her would think it was pretty
+      queer, an' maybe kind of expeck it was papa's all the time. Mamma says she
+      thinks Willie must have worried a good deal over reasons to say why he'd
+      always go in the daytime after that, an' never came in the evening, an'
+      now they're goin' to have this party, an' she says he's been gettin' paler
+      and paler every day since he heard about it. Mamma says he's pale SOME
+      because Miss Pratt's goin' away, but she thinks it's a good deal more
+      because, well, if he would wear those evening clo'es just to go CALLIN',
+      how would it be to go to that PARTY an' not have any! That's what mamma
+      thinks&mdash;an', Genesis, you promised you'd never tell as long as you
+      live!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm. <i>I</i> ain' tellin',&rdquo; Genesis chuckled. &ldquo;I'm a-go'n' agit me one
+      nem waituh suits befo' long, myse'f, so's I kin quit wearin' 'at ole Henry
+      Gimlet suit what b'long to Fanny, an' have me a privut suit o' my own.
+      They's a secon'-han' sto' ovuh on the avynoo, where they got swallertail
+      suits all way f'um sevum dolluhs to nineteem dolluhs an' ninety-eight
+      cents. I'm a&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane started, interrupting him. &ldquo;'SH!&rdquo; she whispered, laying a finger
+      warningly upon her lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      William had entered the yard at the back gate, and, approaching over the
+      lawn, had arrived at the steps of the porch before Jane perceived him. She
+      gave him an apprehensive look, but he passed into the house
+      absent-mindedly, not even flinching at sight of Clematis&mdash;and Mrs.
+      Baxter was right, William did look pale.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I guess he didn't hear us,&rdquo; said Jane, when he had disappeared into the
+      interior. &ldquo;He acks awful funny!&rdquo; she added, thoughtfully. &ldquo;First when he
+      was in love of Miss Pratt, he'd be mad about somep'm almost every minute
+      he was home. Couldn't anybody say ANYthing to him but he'd just behave as
+      if it was frightful, an' then if you'd see him out walkin' with Miss
+      Pratt, well, he'd look like&mdash;like&mdash;&rdquo; Jane paused; her eye fell
+      upon Clematis and by a happy inspiration she was able to complete her
+      simile with remarkable accuracy. &ldquo;He'd look like the way Clematis looks at
+      people! That's just EXACTLY the way he'd look, Genesis, when he was
+      walkin' with Miss Pratt; an' then when he was home he got so quiet he
+      couldn't answer questions an' wouldn't hear what anybody said to him at
+      table or anywhere, an' papa 'd nearly almost bust. Mamma 'n' papa 'd talk
+      an' talk about it, an'&rdquo;&mdash;she lowered her voice&mdash;&ldquo;an' I knew what
+      they were talkin' about. Well, an' then he'd hardly ever get mad any more;
+      he'd just sit in his room, an' sometimes he'd sit in there without any
+      light, or he'd sit out in the yard all by himself all evening, maybe; an'
+      th'other evening after I was in bed I heard 'em, an' papa said&mdash;well,
+      this is what papa told mamma.&rdquo; And again lowering her voice, she proffered
+      the quotation from her father in atone somewhat awe-struck: &ldquo;Papa said, by
+      Gosh! if he ever 'a' thought a son of his could make such a Word idiot of
+      himself he almost wished we'd both been girls!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Having completed this report in a violent whisper, Jane nodded repeatedly,
+      for emphasis, and Genesis shook his head to show that he was as deeply
+      impressed as she wished him to be. &ldquo;I guess,&rdquo; she added, after a pause &ldquo;I
+      guess Willie didn't hear anything you an' I talked about him, or clo'es,
+      or anything.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She was mistaken in part. William had caught no reference to himself, but
+      he had overheard something and he was now alone in his room, thinking
+      about it almost feverishly. &ldquo;A secon'-han' sto' ovuh on the avynoo, where
+      they got swaller-tail suits all way f'um sevum dolluhs to nineteem dolluhs
+      an' ninety-eight cents.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      ... Civilization is responsible for certain longings in the breast of man&mdash;artificial
+      longings, but sometimes as poignant as hunger and thirst. Of these the
+      strongest are those of the maid for the bridal veil, of the lad for long
+      trousers, and of the youth for a tailed coat of state. To the
+      gratification of this last, only a few of the early joys in life are
+      comparable. Indulged youths, too rich, can know, to the unctuous full,
+      neither the longing nor the gratification; but one such as William, in
+      &ldquo;moderate circumstances,&rdquo; is privileged to pant for his first evening
+      clothes as the hart panteth after the water-brook&mdash;and sometimes, to
+      pant in vain. Also, this was a crisis in William's life: in addition to
+      his yearning for such apparel, he was racked by a passionate urgency.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As Jane had so precociously understood, unless he should somehow manage to
+      obtain the proper draperies he could not go to the farewell dance for Miss
+      Pratt. Other unequipped boys could go in their ordinary &ldquo;best clothes,&rdquo;
+       but William could not; for, alack! he had dressed too well too soon!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was in desperate case.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The sorrow of the approaching great departure was but the heavier because
+      it had been so long deferred. To William it had seemed that this
+      flower-strewn summer could actually end no more than he could actually
+      die, but Time had begun its awful lecture, and even Seventeen was
+      listening.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Pratt, that magic girl, was going home.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0026" id="link2H_4_0026">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      XXIII
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      FATHERS FORGET
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      To the competent twenties, hundreds of miles suggesting no
+      impossibilities, such departures may be rending, but not tragic.
+      Implacable, the difference to Seventeen! Miss Pratt was going home, and
+      Seventeen could not follow; it could only mourn upon the lonely shore,
+      tracing little angelic footprints left in the sand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To Seventeen such a departure is final; it is a vanishing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now it seemed possible that William might be deprived even of the last
+      romantic consolations: of the &ldquo;last waltz together,&rdquo; of the last, last
+      &ldquo;listening to music in the moonlight together&rdquo;; of all those sacred lasts
+      of the &ldquo;last evening together.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He had pleaded strongly for a &ldquo;dress-suit&rdquo; as a fitting recognition of his
+      seventeenth birthday anniversary, but he had been denied by his father
+      with a jocularity more crushing than rigor. Since then&mdash;in particular
+      since the arrival of Miss Pratt&mdash;Mr. Baxter's temper had been growing
+      steadily more and more even. That is, as affected by William's social
+      activities, it was uniformly bad. Nevertheless, after heavy brooding,
+      William decided to make one final appeal before he resorted to measures
+      which the necessities of despair had caused him to contemplate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He wished to give himself every chance for a good effect; therefore, he
+      did not act hastily, but went over what he intended to say, rehearsing it
+      with a few appropriate gestures, and even taking some pleasure in the
+      pathetic dignity of this performance, as revealed by occasional glances at
+      the mirror of his dressing-table. In spite of these little alleviations,
+      his trouble was great and all too real, for, unhappily, the previous
+      rehearsal of an emotional scene does not prove the emotion insincere.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Descending, he found his father and mother still sitting upon the front
+      porch. Then, standing before them, solemn-eyed, he uttered a preluding
+      cough, and began:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Father,&rdquo; he said in a loud voice, &ldquo;I have come to&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear me!&rdquo; Mrs. Baxter exclaimed, not perceiving that she was interrupting
+      an intended oration. &ldquo;Willie, you DO look pale! Sit down, poor child; you
+      oughtn't to walk so much in this heat.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Father,&rdquo; William repeated. &ldquo;Fath&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suppose you got her safely home from church,&rdquo; Mr. Baxter said. &ldquo;She
+      might have been carried off by footpads if you three boys hadn't been
+      along to take care of her!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But William persisted heroically. &ldquo;Father&mdash;&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Father, I have
+      come to&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What on earth's the matter with you?&rdquo; Mr. Baxter ceased to fan himself;
+      Mrs. Baxter stopped rocking, and both stared, for it had dawned upon them
+      that something unusual was beginning to take place.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      William backed to the start and tried it again. &ldquo;Father, I have come to&mdash;&rdquo;
+       He paused and gulped, evidently expecting to be interrupted, but both of
+      his parents remained silent, regarding him with puzzled surprise.
+      &ldquo;Father,&rdquo; he began once more, &ldquo;I have come&mdash;I have come to&mdash;to
+      place before you something I think it's your duty as my father to
+      undertake, and I have thought over this step before laying it before you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My soul!&rdquo; said Mr. Baxter, under his breath. &ldquo;My soul!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At my age,&rdquo; William continued, swallowing, and fixing his earnest eyes
+      upon the roof of the porch, to avoid the disconcerting stare of his father&mdash;&ldquo;at
+      my age there's some things that ought to be done and some things that
+      ought not to be done. If you asked me what I thought OUGHT to be done,
+      there is only one answer: When anybody as old as I am has to go out among
+      other young men his own age that already got one, like anyway half of them
+      HAVE, who I go with, and their fathers have already taken such a step,
+      because they felt it was the only right thing to do, because at my age and
+      the young men I go with's age, it IS the only right thing to do, because
+      that is something nobody could deny, at my age&mdash;&rdquo; Here William drew a
+      long breath, and, deciding to abandon that sentence as irrevocably
+      tangled, began another: &ldquo;I have thought over this step, because there
+      comes a time to every young man when they must lay a step before their
+      father before something happens that they would be sorry for. I have
+      thought this undertaking over, and I am certain it would be your honest
+      duty&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My soul!&rdquo; gasped Mr. Baxter. &ldquo;I thought I knew you pretty well, but you
+      talk like a stranger to ME! What is all this? What you WANT?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A dress-suit!&rdquo; said William.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had intended to say a great deal more before coming to the point, but,
+      although through nervousness he had lost some threads of his rehearsed
+      plea, it seemed to him that he was getting along well and putting his case
+      with some distinction and power. He was surprised and hurt, therefore, to
+      hear his father utter a wordless shout in a tone of wondering derision.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have more to say&mdash;&rdquo; William began.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Mr. Baxter cut him off. &ldquo;A dress-suit!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;Well, I'm glad you
+      were talking about SOMETHING, because I honestly thought it must be too
+      much sun!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At this, the troubled William brought his eyes down from the porch roof
+      and forgot his rehearsal. He lifted his hand appealingly. &ldquo;Father,&rdquo; he
+      said, &ldquo;I GOT to have one!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Got to'!&rdquo; Mr. Baxter laughed a laugh that chilled the supplicant through
+      and through. &ldquo;At your age I thought I was lucky if I had ANY suit that was
+      fit to be seen in. You're too young, Willie. I don't want you to get your
+      mind on such stuff, and if I have my way, you won't have a dress-suit for
+      four years more, anyhow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Father, I GOT to have one. I got to have one right away!&rdquo; The urgency in
+      William's voice was almost tearful. &ldquo;I don't ask you to have it made, or
+      to go to expensive tailors, but there's plenty of good ready-made ones
+      that only cost about forty dollars; they're advertised in the paper.
+      Father, wouldn't you spend just forty dollars? I'll pay it back when I'm
+      in business; I'll work&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Baxter waved all this aside. &ldquo;It's not the money. It's the principle
+      that I'm standing for, and I don't intend&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Father, WON'T you do it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I will not!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      William saw that sentence had been passed and all appeals for a new trial
+      denied. He choked, and rushed into the house without more ado.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Poor boy!&rdquo; his mother said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Poor boy nothing!&rdquo; fumed Mr. Baxter. &ldquo;He's about lost his mind over that
+      Miss Pratt. Think of his coming out here and starting a regular debating
+      society declamation before his mother and father! Why, I never heard
+      anything like it in my life! I don't like to hurt his feelings, and I'd
+      give him anything I could afford that would do him any good, but all he
+      wants it for now is to splurge around in at this party before that little
+      yellow-haired girl! I guess he can wear the kind of clothes most of the
+      other boys wear&mdash;the kind <i>I</i> wore at parties&mdash;and never
+      thought of wearing anything else. What's the world getting to be like?
+      Seventeen years old and throws a fit because he can't have a dress-suit!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Baxter looked thoughtful. &ldquo;But&mdash;but suppose he felt he couldn't
+      go to the dance unless he wore one, poor boy&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All the better,&rdquo; said Mr. Baxter, firmly. &ldquo;Do him good to keep away and
+      get his mind on something else.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course,&rdquo; she suggested, with some timidity, &ldquo;forty dollars isn't a
+      great deal of money, and a ready-made suit, just to begin with&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Naturally, Mr. Baxter perceived whither she was drifting. &ldquo;Forty dollars
+      isn't a thousand,&rdquo; he interrupted, &ldquo;but what you want to throw it away
+      for? One reason a boy of seventeen oughtn't to have evening clothes is the
+      way he behaves with ANY clothes. Forty dollars! Why, only this summer he
+      sat down on Jane's open paint-box, twice in one week!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well&mdash;Miss Pratt IS going away, and the dance will be her last
+      night. I'm afraid it would really hurt him to miss it. I remember once,
+      before we were engaged&mdash;that evening before papa took me abroad, and
+      you&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's no use, mamma,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;We were both in the twenties&mdash;why, <i>I</i>
+      was six years older than Willie, even then. There's no comparison at all.
+      I'll let him order a dress-suit on his twenty-first birthday and not a
+      minute before. I don't believe in it, and I intend to see that he gets all
+      this stuff out of his system. He's got to learn some hard sense!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Baxter shook her head doubtfully, but she said no more. Perhaps she
+      regretted a little that she had caused Mr. Baxter's evening clothes to be
+      so expansively enlarged&mdash;for she looked rather regretful. She also
+      looked rather incomprehensible, not to say cryptic, during the long
+      silence which followed, and Mr. Baxter resumed his rocking, unaware of the
+      fixity of gaze which his wife maintained upon him&mdash;a thing the most
+      loyal will do sometimes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The incomprehensible look disappeared before long; but the regretful one
+      was renewed in the mother's eyes whenever she caught glimpses of her son,
+      that day, and at the table, where William's manner was gentle&mdash;even
+      toward his heartless father.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Underneath that gentleness, the harried self of William was no longer
+      debating a desperate resolve, but had fixed upon it, and on the following
+      afternoon Jane chanced to be a witness of some resultant actions. She came
+      to her mother with an account of them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mamma, what you s'pose Willie wants of those two ole market-baskets that
+      were down cellar?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Jane?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, he carried 'em in his room, an' then he saw me lookin'; an' he
+      said, 'G'way from here!' an' shut the door. He looks so funny! What's he
+      want of those ole baskets, mamma?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know. Perhaps he doesn't even know, himself, Jane.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But William did know, definitely. He had set the baskets upon chairs, and
+      now, with pale determination, he was proceeding to fill them. When his
+      task was completed the two baskets contained:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One &ldquo;heavy-weight winter suit of clothes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      One &ldquo;light-weight summer suit of clothes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      One cap.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One straw hat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Two pairs of white flannel trousers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Two Madras shirts.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Two flannel shirts.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Two silk shirts.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Seven soft collars.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Three silk neckties.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One crocheted tie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Eight pairs of socks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One pair of patent-leather shoes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One pair of tennis-shoes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One overcoat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Some underwear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One two-foot shelf of books, consisting of several sterling works upon
+      mathematics, in a damaged condition; five of Shakespeare's plays,
+      expurgated for schools and colleges, and also damaged; a work upon
+      political economy, and another upon the science of physics; Webster's
+      Collegiate Dictionary; How to Enter a Drawing-Room and Five Hundred Other
+      Hints; Witty Sayings from Here and There; Lorna Doone; Quentin Durward;
+      The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, a very old copy of Moths, and a small
+      Bible.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      William spread handkerchiefs upon the two over-bulging cargoes, that their
+      nature might not be disclosed to the curious, and, after listening a
+      moment at his door, took the baskets, one upon each arm, then went quickly
+      down the stairs and out of the house, out of the yard, and into the alley&mdash;by
+      which route he had modestly chosen to travel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      ... After an absence of about two hours he returned empty-handed and
+      anxious. &ldquo;Mother, I want to speak to you,&rdquo; he said, addressing Mrs Baxter
+      in a voice which clearly proved the strain of these racking days. &ldquo;I want
+      to speak to you about something important.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Willie?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Please send Jane away. I can't talk about important things with a child
+      in the room.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane naturally wished to stay, since he was going to say something
+      important. &ldquo;Mamma, do I HAF to go?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just a few minutes, dear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane walked submissively out of the door, leaving it open behind her.
+      Then, having gone about six feet farther, she halted and, preserving a
+      breathless silence, consoled herself for her banishment by listening to
+      what was said, hearing it all as satisfactorily as if she had remained in
+      the room. Quiet, thoughtful children, like Jane, avail themselves of these
+      little pleasures oftener than is suspected.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mother,&rdquo; said William, with great intensity, &ldquo;I want to ask you please to
+      lend me three dollars and sixty cents.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What for, Willie?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mother, I just ask you to lend me three dollars and sixty cents.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But what FOR?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mother, I don't feel I can discuss it any; I simply ask you: Will you
+      lend me three dollars and sixty cents?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Baxter laughed gently. &ldquo;I don't think I could, Willie, but certainly
+      I should want to know what for.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mother, I am going on eighteen years of age, and when I ask for a small
+      sum of money like three dollars and sixty cents I think I might be trusted
+      to know how to use it for my own good without having to answer questions
+      like a ch&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Willie,&rdquo; she exclaimed, &ldquo;you ought to have plenty of money of your
+      own!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course I ought,&rdquo; he agreed, warmly. &ldquo;If you'd ask father to give me a
+      regular allow&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no; I mean you ought to have plenty left out of that old junk and
+      furniture I let you sell last month. You had over nine dollars!'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That was five weeks ago,&rdquo; William explained, wearily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you certainly must have some of it left. Why, it was MORE than nine
+      dollars, I believe! I think it was nearer ten. Surely you haven't&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ye gods!&rdquo; cried the goaded William. &ldquo;A person going on eighteen years old
+      ought to be able to spend nine dollars in five weeks without everybody's
+      acting like it was a crime! Mother, I ask you the simple question: Will
+      you PLEASE lend me three dollars and sixty cents?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't think I ought to, dear. I'm sure your father wouldn't wish me to,
+      unless you'll tell me what you want it for. In fact, I won't consider it
+      at all unless you do tell me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You won't do it?&rdquo; he quavered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She shook her head gently. &ldquo;You see, dear, I'm afraid the reason you don't
+      tell me is because you know that I wouldn't give it to you if I knew what
+      you wanted it for.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This perfect diagnosis of the case so disheartened him that after a few
+      monosyllabic efforts to continue the conversation with dignity he gave it
+      up, and left in such a preoccupation with despondency that he passed the
+      surprised Jane in the hall without suspecting what she had been doing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      That evening, after dinner, he addressed to his father an impassioned
+      appeal for three dollars and sixty cents, laying such stress of pathos on
+      his principal argument that if he couldn't have a dress-suit, at least he
+      ought to be given three dollars and sixty CENTS (the emphasis is
+      William's) that Mr. Baxter was moved in the direction of consent&mdash;but
+      not far enough. &ldquo;I'd like to let you have it, Willie,&rdquo; he said, excusing
+      himself for refusal, &ldquo;but your mother felt SHE oughtn't to do it unless
+      you'd say what you wanted it for, and I'm sure she wouldn't like me to do
+      it. I can't let you have it unless you get her to say she wants me to.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thus advised, the unfortunate made another appeal to his mother the next
+      day, and, having brought about no relaxation of the situation, again
+      petitioned his father, on the following evening. So it went; the torn and
+      driven William turning from parent to parent; and surely, since the world
+      began, the special sum of three dollars and sixty cents has never been so
+      often mentioned in any one house and in the same space of time as it was
+      in the house of the Baxters during Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and
+      Thursday of that oppressive week.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But on Friday William disappeared after breakfast and did not return to
+      lunch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0027" id="link2H_4_0027">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      XXIV
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      CLOTHES MAKE THE MAN
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Baxter was troubled. During the afternoon she glanced often from the
+      open window of the room where she had gone to sew, but the peaceful
+      neighborhood continued to be peaceful, and no sound of the harassed
+      footsteps of William echoed from the pavement. However, she saw Genesis
+      arrive (in his weekday costume) to do some weeding, and Jane immediately
+      skip forth for mingled purposes of observation and conversation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What DO they say?&rdquo; thought Mrs. Baxter, observing that both Jane and
+      Genesis were unusually animated. But for once that perplexity was to be
+      dispersed. After an exciting half-hour Jane came flying to her mother,
+      breathless.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mamma,&rdquo; she cried, &ldquo;I know where Willie is! Genesis told me, 'cause he
+      saw him, an' he talked to him while he was doin' it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Doing what? Where?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mamma, listen! What you think Willie's doin'? I bet you can't g&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Jane!&rdquo; Mrs Baxter spoke sharply. &ldquo;Tell me what Genesis said, at once.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm. Willie's sittin' in a lumber-yard that Genesis comes by on his way
+      from over on the avynoo where all the colored people live&mdash;an' he's
+      countin' knot-holes in shingles.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is WHAT?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm. Genesis knows all about it, because he was thinkin' of doin' it
+      himself, only he says it would be too slow. This is the way it is, mamma.
+      Listen, mamma, because this is just exackly the way it is. Well, this
+      lumber-yard man got into some sort of a fuss because he bought millions
+      an' millions of shingles, mamma, that had too many knots in, an' the man
+      don't want to pay for 'em, or else the store where he bought 'em won't
+      take 'em back, an' they got to prove how many shingles are bad shingles,
+      or somep'm, an' anyway, mamma, that's what Willie's doin'. Every time he
+      comes to a bad shingle, mamma, he puts it somewheres else, or somep'm like
+      that, mamma, an' every time he's put a thousand bad shingles in this other
+      place they give him six cents. He gets the six cents to keep, mamma&mdash;an'
+      that's what he's been doin' all day!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good gracious!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but that's nothing, mamma&mdash;just you wait till you hear the rest.
+      THAT part of it isn't anything a TALL, mamma! You wouldn't hardly notice
+      that part of it if you knew the other part of it, mamma. Why, that isn't
+      ANYTHING!&rdquo; Jane made demonstrations of scorn for the insignificant
+      information already imparted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Jane!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I want to know everything Genesis told you,&rdquo; said her mother, &ldquo;and I want
+      you to tell it as quickly as you can.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I AM tellin' it, mamma!&rdquo; Jane protested. &ldquo;I'm just BEGINNING to
+      tell it. I can't tell it unless there's a beginning, can I? How could
+      there be ANYTHING unless you had to begin it, mamma?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Try your best to go on, Jane!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm. Well, Genesis says&mdash;Mamma!&rdquo; Jane interrupted herself with a
+      little outcry. &ldquo;Oh! I bet THAT'S what he had those two market-baskets for!
+      Yes, sir! That's just what he did! An' then he needed the rest o' the
+      money an' you an' papa wouldn't give him any, an' so he began countin'
+      shingles to-day 'cause to-night's the night of the party an' he just HASS
+      to have it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Baxter, who had risen to her feet, recalled the episode of the
+      baskets and sank into a chair. &ldquo;How did Genesis know Willie wanted forty
+      dollars, and if Willie's pawned something how did Genesis know THAT? Did
+      Willie tell Gen&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh no, mamma, Willie didn't want forty dollars&mdash;only fourteen!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But he couldn't get even the cheapest readymade dress-suit for fourteen
+      dollars.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mamma, you're gettin' it all mixed up!&rdquo; Jane cried. &ldquo;Listen, mamma!
+      Genesis knows all about a second-hand store over on the avynoo; an' it
+      keeps 'most everything, an' Genesis says it's the nicest store! It keeps
+      waiter suits all the way up to nineteen dollars and ninety-nine cents.
+      Well, an' Genesis wants to get one of those suits, so he goes in there all
+      the time, an' talks to the man an' bargains an' bargains with him, 'cause
+      Genesis says this man is the bargainest man in the wide worl', mamma!
+      That's what Genesis says. Well, an' so this man's name is One-eye Beljus,
+      mamma. That's his name, an' Genesis says so. Well, an' so this man that
+      Genesis told me about, that keeps the store&mdash;I mean One-eye Beljus,
+      mamma&mdash;well, One-eye Beljus had Willie's name written down in a book,
+      an' he knew Genesis worked for fam'lies that have boys like Willie in 'em,
+      an' this morning One-eye Beljus showed Genesis Willie's name written down
+      in this book, an' One-eye Beljus asked Genesis if he knew anybody by that
+      name an' all about him. Well, an' so at first Genesis pretended he was
+      tryin' to remember, because he wanted to find out what Willie went there
+      for. Genesis didn't tell any stories, mamma; he just pretended he couldn't
+      remember, an' so, well, One-eye Beljus kept talkin' an' pretty soon
+      Genesis found out all about it. One-eye Beljus said Willie came in there
+      an' tried on the coat of one of those waiter suits&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh no!&rdquo; gasped Mrs. Baxter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm, an' One-eye Beljus said it was the only one that would fit Willie,
+      an' One-eye Beljus told Willie that suit was worth fourteen dollars, an'
+      Willie said he didn't have any money, but he'd like to trade something
+      else for it. Well, an' so One-eye Beljus said this was an awful fine suit
+      an' the only one he had that had b'longed to a white gentleman. Well, an'
+      so they bargained, an' bargained, an' bargained, an' BARGAINED! An' then,
+      well, an' so at last Willie said he'd go an' get everything that b'longed
+      to him, an' One-eye Beljus could pick out enough to make fourteen dollars'
+      worth, an' then Willie could have the suit. Well, an' so Willie came home
+      an' put everything he had that b'longed to him into those two baskets,
+      mamma&mdash;that's just what he did, 'cause Genesis says he told One-eye
+      Beljus it was everything that b'longed to him, an' that would take two
+      baskets, mamma. Well, then, an' so he told One-eye Beljus to pick out
+      fourteen dollars' worth, an' One-eye Beljus ast Willie if he didn't have a
+      watch. Well, Willie took out his watch an' One-eye Beljus said it was an
+      awful bad watch, but he would put it in for a dollar; an' he said, 'I'll
+      put your necktie pin in for forty cents more,' so Willie took it out of
+      his necktie an' then One-eye Beljus said it would take all the things in
+      the baskets to make I forget how much, mamma, an' the watch would be a
+      dollar more, an' the pin forty cents, an' that would leave just three
+      dollars an' sixty cents more for Willie to pay before he could get the
+      suit.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Baxter's face had become suffused with high color, but she wished to
+      know all that Genesis had said, and, mastering her feelings with an
+      effort, she told Jane to proceed&mdash;a command obeyed after Jane had
+      taken several long breaths.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, an' so the worst part of it is, Genesis says, it's because that
+      suit is haunted.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm,&rdquo; said Jane, solemnly; &ldquo;Genesis says it's haunted. Genesis says
+      everybody over on the avynoo knows all about that suit, an' he says that's
+      why One-eye Beljus never could sell it before. Genesis says One-eye Beljus
+      tried to sell it to a colored man for three dollars, but the man said he
+      wouldn't put in on for three hunderd dollars, an' Genesis says HE
+      wouldn't, either, because it belonged to a Dago waiter that&mdash;that&mdash;&rdquo;
+       Jane's voice sank to a whisper of unctuous horror. She was having a
+      wonderful time! &ldquo;Mamma, this Dago waiter, he lived over on the avynoo, an'
+      he took a case-knife he'd sharpened&mdash;AN' HE CUT A LADY'S HEAD OFF
+      WITH IT!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Baxter screamed faintly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An' he got hung, mamma! If you don't believe it, you can ask One-eye
+      Beljus&mdash;I guess HE knows! An' you can ask&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hush!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An' he sold this suit to One-eye Beljus when he was in jail, mamma. He
+      sold it to him before he got hung, mamma.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hush, Jane!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Jane couldn't hush now. &ldquo;An' he had that suit on when he cut the
+      lady's head off, mamma, an' that's why it's haunted. They cleaned it all
+      up excep' a few little spots of bl&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;JANE!&rdquo; shouted her mother. &ldquo;You must not talk about such things, and
+      Genesis mustn't tell, you stories of that sort!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, how could he help it, if he told me about Willie?&rdquo; Jane urged,
+      reasonably.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never mind! Did that crazy ch&mdash;Did Willie LEAVE the baskets in that
+      dreadful place?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm&mdash;an' his watch an' pin,&rdquo; Jane informed her, impressively. &ldquo;An'
+      One-eye Beljus wanted to know if Genesis knew Willie, because One-eye
+      Beljus wanted to know if Genesis thought Willie could get the three
+      dollars an; sixty cents, an' One-eye Beljus wanted to know if Genesis
+      thought he could get anything more out of him besides that. He told
+      Genesis he hadn't told Willie he COULD have the suit, after all; he just
+      told him he THOUGHT he could, but he wouldn't say for certain till he
+      brought him the three dollars an' sixty cents. So Willie left all his
+      things there, an' his watch an&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That will do!&rdquo; Mrs. Baxter's voice was sharper than it had ever been in
+      Jane's recollection. &ldquo;I don't need to hear any more&mdash;and I don't WANT
+      to hear any more!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane was justly aggrieved. &ldquo;But, mamma, it isn't MY fault!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Baxter's lips parted to speak, but she checked herself. &ldquo;Fault?&rdquo; she
+      said, gravely. &ldquo;I wonder whose fault it really is!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And with that she went hurriedly into William's room and made a brief
+      inspection of his clothes-closet and dressing-table. Then, as Jane watched
+      her in awed silence, she strode to the window, and called, loudly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Genesis!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm?&rdquo; came the voice from below.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go to that lumber-yard where Mr. William is at work and bring him here to
+      me at once. If he declines to come, tell him&mdash;&rdquo; Her voice broke
+      oddly; she choked, but Jane could not decide with what emotion. &ldquo;Tell him&mdash;tell
+      him I ordered you to use force if necessary! Hurry!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;YES'M!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane ran to the window in time to see Genesis departing seriously through
+      the back gate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mamma&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't talk to me now, Jane,&rdquo; Mrs. Baxter said, crisply. &ldquo;I want you to go
+      down in the yard, and when Willie comes tell him I'm waiting for him here
+      in his own room. And don't come with him, Jane. Run!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, mamma.&rdquo; Jane was pleased with this appointment; she anxiously
+      desired to be the first to see how Willie &ldquo;looked.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      ... He looked flurried and flustered and breathless, and there were
+      blisters upon the reddened palms of his hands. &ldquo;What on earth's the
+      matter, mother?&rdquo; he asked, as he stood panting before her. &ldquo;Genesis said
+      something was wrong, and he said you told him to hit me if I wouldn't
+      come.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh NO!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;I only meant I thought perhaps you wouldn't obey any
+      ordinary message&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, well, it doesn't matter, but please hurry and say what you want to,
+      because I got to get back and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; Mrs. Baxter said, quietly, &ldquo;you're not going back to count any more
+      shingles, Willie. How much have you earned?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He swallowed, but spoke bravely. &ldquo;Thirty-six cents. But I've been getting
+      lots faster the last two hours and there's a good deal of time before six
+      o'clock. Mother&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;You're going over to that horrible place where you've
+      left your clothes and your watch and all those other things in the two
+      baskets, and you're going to bring them home at once.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mother!&rdquo; he cried, aghast. &ldquo;Who told you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It doesn't matter. You don't want your father to find out, do you? Then
+      get those things back here as quickly as you can. They'll have to be
+      fumigated after being in that den.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They've never been out of the baskets,&rdquo; he protested, hotly, &ldquo;except just
+      to be looked at. They're MY things, mother, and I had a right to do what I
+      needed to with 'em, didn't I?&rdquo; His utterance became difficult. &ldquo;You and
+      father just CAN'T understand&mdash;and you won't do anything to help me&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Willie, you can go to the party,&rdquo; she said, gently. &ldquo;You didn't need
+      those frightful clothes at all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;I GOT to have 'em! I CAN'T go in my day clo'es! There's
+      a reason you wouldn't understand why I can't. I just CAN'T!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;you can go to the party.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can't, either! Not unless you give me three dollars and twenty-four
+      cents, or unless I can get back to the lumber-yard and earn the rest
+      before&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No!&rdquo; And the warm color that had rushed over Mrs. Baxter during Jane's
+      sensational recital returned with a vengeance. Her eyes flashed. &ldquo;If you'd
+      rather I sent a policeman for those baskets, I'll send one. I should
+      prefer to do it&mdash;much! And to have that rascal arrested. If you don't
+      want me to send a policeman you can go for them yourself, but you must
+      start within ten minutes, because if you don't I'll telephone
+      headquarters. Ten minutes, Willie, and I mean it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He cried out, protesting. She would make him a thing of scorn forever and
+      soil his honor, if she sent a policeman. Mr. Beljus was a fair and honest
+      tradesman, he explained, passionately, and had not made the approaches in
+      this matter. Also, the garments in question, though not entirely new, nor
+      of the highest mode, were of good material and in splendid condition.
+      Unmistakably they were evening clothes, and such a bargain at fourteen
+      dollars that William would guarantee to sell them for twenty after he had
+      worn them this one evening. Mr. Beljus himself had said that he would not
+      even think of letting them go at fourteen to anybody else, and as for the
+      two poor baskets of worn and useless articles offered in exchange, and a
+      bent scarfpin and a worn-out old silver watch that had belonged to
+      great-uncle Ben&mdash;why, the ten dollars and forty cents allowed upon
+      them was beyond all ordinary liberality; it was almost charity. There was
+      only one place in town where evening clothes were rented, and the
+      suspicious persons in charge had insisted that William obtain from his
+      father a guarantee to insure the return of the garments in perfect
+      condition. So that was hopeless. And wasn't it better, also, to wear
+      clothes which had known only one previous occupant (as was the case with
+      Mr. Beljus's offering) than to hire what chance hundreds had hired?
+      Finally, there was only one thing to be considered and this was the fact
+      that William HAD to have those clothes!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Six minutes,&rdquo; said Mrs. Baxter, glancing implacably at her watch. &ldquo;When
+      it's ten I'll telephone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And the end of it was, of course, victory for the woman&mdash;victory both
+      moral and physical. Three-quarters of an hour later she was unburdening
+      the contents of the two baskets and putting the things back in place,
+      illuminating these actions with an expression of strong distaste&mdash;in
+      spite of broken assurances that Mr. Beljus had not more than touched any
+      of the articles offered to him for valuation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      ... At dinner, which was unusually early that evening, Mrs. Baxter did not
+      often glance toward her son; she kept her eyes from that white face and
+      spent most of her time in urging upon Mr. Baxter that he should be prompt
+      in dressing for a card-club meeting which he and she were to attend that
+      evening. These admonitions of hers were continued so pressingly that Mr.
+      Baxter, after protesting that there was no use in being a whole hour too
+      early, groaningly went to dress without even reading his paper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      William had retired to his own room, where he lay upon his bed in the
+      darkness. He heard the evening noises of the house faintly through the
+      closed door: voices and the clatter of metal and china from the far-away
+      kitchen, Jane's laugh in the hall, the opening and closing of the doors.
+      Then his father seemed to be in distress about something. William heard
+      him complaining to Mrs. Baxter, and though the words were indistinct, the
+      tone was vigorously plaintive. Mrs. Baxter laughed and appeared to make
+      light of his troubles, whatever they were&mdash;and presently their
+      footsteps were audible from the stairway; the front door closed
+      emphatically, and they were gone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Everything was quiet now. The open window showed as a greenish oblong set
+      in black, and William knew that in a little while there would come through
+      the stillness of that window the distant sound of violins. That was a
+      moment he dreaded with a dread that ached. And as he lay on his dreary bed
+      he thought of brightly lighted rooms where other boys were dressing
+      eagerly faces and hair shining, hearts beating high&mdash;boys who would
+      possess this last evening and the &ldquo;last waltz together,&rdquo; the last smile
+      and the last sigh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It did not once enter his mind that he could go to the dance in his &ldquo;best
+      suit,&rdquo; or that possibly the other young people at the party would be too
+      busy with their own affairs to notice particularly what he wore. It was
+      the unquestionable and granite fact, to his mind, that the whole derisive
+      World would know the truth about his earlier appearances in his father's
+      clothes. And that was a form of ruin not to be faced. In the protective
+      darkness and seclusion of William's bedroom, it is possible that smarting
+      eyes relieved themselves by blinking rather energetically; it is even
+      possible that there was a minute damp spot upon the pillow. Seventeen
+      cannot always manage the little boy yet alive under all the coverings.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Now arrived that moment he had most painfully anticipated, and dance-music
+      drifted on the night;&mdash;but there came a tapping upon his door and a
+      soft voice spoke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will-ee?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With a sharp exclamation William swung his legs over the edge of the bed
+      and sat up. Of all things he desired not, he desired no conversation with,
+      or on the part of, Jane. But he had forgotten to lock his door&mdash;the
+      handle turned, and a dim little figure marched in.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Willie, Adelia's goin' to put me to bed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You g'way from here,&rdquo; he said, huskily. &ldquo;I haven't got time to talk to
+      you. I'm busy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, you can wait a minute, can't you?&rdquo; she asked, reasonably. &ldquo;I haf to
+      tell you a joke on mamma.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't want to hear any jokes!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I HAF to tell you this one 'cause she told me to! Oh!&rdquo; Jane clapped
+      her hand over her mouth and jumped up and down, offering a fantastic
+      silhouette against the light of the Open door. &ldquo;Oh, oh, OH!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's matter?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She said I mustn't, MUSTN'T tell that she told me to tell! My goodness! I
+      forgot that! Mamma took me off alone right after dinner, an' she told me
+      to tell you this joke on her a little after she an' papa had left the
+      house, but she said, 'Above all THINGS,' she said, 'DON'T let Willie know
+      <i>I</i> said to tell him.' That's just what she said, an' here that's the
+      very first thing I had to go an' do!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, what of it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane quieted down. The pangs of her remorse were lost in her love of
+      sensationalism, and her voice sank to the thrilling whisper which it was
+      one of her greatest pleasures to use. &ldquo;Did you hear what a fuss papa was
+      makin' when he was dressin' for the card-party?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;<i>I</i> don't care if&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He had to go in his reg'lar clo'es!&rdquo; whispered Jane, triumphantly. &ldquo;An'
+      this is the joke on mamma: you know that tailor that let papa's dress-suit
+      'way, 'way out; well, Mamma thinks that tailor must think she's crazy, or
+      somep'm 'cause she took papa's dress-suit to him last Monday to get it
+      pressed for this card-party, an she guesses he must of understood her to
+      tell him to do lots besides just pressin' it. Anyway, he went an' altered
+      it, an' he took it 'way, 'way IN again; an' this afternoon when it came
+      back it was even tighter 'n what it was in the first place, an' papa
+      couldn't BEGIN to get into it! Well, an' so it's all pressed an'
+      ev'ything, an' she stopped on the way out, an' whispered to me that she'd
+      got so upset over the joke on her that she couldn't remember where she put
+      it when she took it out o' papa's room after he gave up tryin' to get
+      inside of it. An' that,&rdquo; cried Jane&mdash;&ldquo;that's the funniest thing of
+      all! Why, it's layin' right on her bed this very minute!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In one bound William leaped through the open door. Two seconds sufficed
+      for his passage through the hall to his mother's bedroom&mdash;and there,
+      neatly spread upon the lace coverlet and brighter than coronation robes,
+      fairer than Joseph's holy coat, It lay!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0028" id="link2H_4_0028">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      XXV
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      YOUTH AND MR. PARCHER
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      As a hurried worldling, in almost perfectly fitting evening clothes,
+      passed out of his father's gateway and hurried toward the place whence
+      faintly came the sound of dance-music, a child's voice called sweetly from
+      an unidentified window of the darkened house behind him:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, ANYWAY, you try and have a good time, Willie!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      William made no reply; he paused not in his stride. Jane's farewell
+      injunction, though obviously not ill-intended, seemed in poor taste, and a
+      reply might have encouraged her to believe that, in some measure at least,
+      he condescended to discuss his inner life with her. He departed rapidly,
+      but with hauteur. The moon was up, but shade-trees were thick along the
+      sidewalk, and the hauteur was invisible to any human eye; nevertheless,
+      William considered it necessary.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane's friendly but ill-chosen &ldquo;ANYWAY&rdquo; had touched doubts already
+      annoying him. He was certain to be late to the party&mdash;so late,
+      indeed, that it might prove difficult to obtain a proper number of dances
+      with the sacred girl in whose honor the celebration was being held. Too
+      many were steeped in a sense of her sacredness, well he wot! and he was
+      unable to find room in his apprehensive mind for any doubt that these
+      others would be accursedly diligent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But as he hastened onward his spirits rose, and he did reply to Jane,
+      after all, though he had placed a hundred yards between them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, and you can bet your bottom dollar I will, too!&rdquo; he muttered,
+      between his determined teeth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The very utterance of the words increased the firmness of his decision,
+      and at the same time cheered him. His apprehensions fell away, and a
+      glamorous excitement took their place, as he turned a corner and the music
+      burst more loudly upon his tingling ear. For there, not half-way to the
+      next street, the fairy scene lay spread before him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Spellbound groups of uninvited persons, most of them colored, rested their
+      forearms upon the upper rail of the Parchers' picket fence, offering to
+      William's view a silhouette like that of a crowd at a fire. Beyond the
+      fence, bright forms went skimming, shimmering, wavering over a white
+      platform, while high overhead the young moon sprayed a thinner light down
+      through the maple leaves, to where processions of rosy globes hung
+      floating in the blue night. The mild breeze trembled to the silver
+      patterings of a harp, to the sweet, barbaric chirping of plucked strings
+      of violin and 'cello&mdash;and swooned among the maple leaves to the
+      rhythmic crooning of a flute. And, all the while, from the platform came
+      the sounds of little cries in girlish voices, and the cadenced shuffling
+      of young feet, where the witching dancemusic had its way, as ever and
+      forever, with big and little slippers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The heart of William had behaved tumultuously the summer long, whenever
+      his eyes beheld those pickets of the Parchers' fence, but now it outdid
+      all its previous riotings. He was forced to open his mouth and gasp for
+      breath, so deep was his draught of that young wine, romance. Yonder&mdash;somewhere
+      in the breath-taking radiance&mdash;danced his Queen with all her Court
+      about her. Queen and Court, thought William, and nothing less exorbitant
+      could have expressed his feeling. For seventeen needs only some paper
+      lanterns, a fiddle, and a pretty girl&mdash;and Versailles is all there!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The moment was so rich that William crossed the street with a slower step.
+      His mood changed: an exaltation had come upon him, though he was never for
+      an instant unaware of the tragedy beneath all this worldly show and
+      glamor. It was the last night of the divine visit; to-morrow the town
+      would lie desolate, a hollow shell in the dust, without her. Miss Pratt
+      would be gone&mdash;gone utterly&mdash;gone away on the TRAIN! But
+      to-night was just beginning, and to-night he would dance with her; he
+      would dance and dance with her&mdash;he would dance and dance like mad! He
+      and she, poetic and fated pair, would dance on and on! They would be
+      intoxicated by the lights&mdash;the lights, the flowers, and the music.
+      Nay, the flowers might droop, the lights might go out, the music cease and
+      dawn come&mdash;she and he would dance recklessly on&mdash;on&mdash;on!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A sense of picturesqueness&mdash;his own picturesqueness&mdash;made him
+      walk rather theatrically as he passed through the groups of humble
+      onlookers outside the picket fence. Many of these turned to stare at the
+      belated guest, and William was unconscious of neither their low estate nor
+      his own quality as a patrician man-about-town in almost perfectly fitting
+      evening dress. A faint, cold smile was allowed to appear upon his lips,
+      and a fragment from a story he had read came momentarily to his mind....
+      &ldquo;Through the gaping crowds the young Augustan noble was borne down from
+      the Palatine, scornful in his jeweled litter....&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      An admiring murmur reached William's ear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;OH, oh, honey! Look attem long-tail suit! 'At's a rich boy, honey!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yessum, SO! Bet he got his pockets pack' full o' twenty-dolluh gol'
+      pieces right iss minute!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You right, honey!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      William allowed the coldness of his faint smile to increase to become
+      scornful. These poor sidewalk creatures little knew what seethed inside
+      the alabaster of the young Augustan noble! What was it to THEM that this
+      was Miss Pratt's last night and that he intended to dance and dance with
+      her, on and on?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Almost sternly he left these squalid lives behind him and passed to the
+      festal gateway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Upon one of the posts of that gateway there rested the elbow of a
+      contemplative man, middleaged or a little worse. Of all persons having
+      pleasure or business within the bright inclosure, he was, that evening,
+      the least important; being merely the background parent who paid the
+      bills. However, even this unconsidered elder shared a thought in common
+      with the Augustan now approaching: Mr. Parcher had just been thinking that
+      there was true romance in the scene before him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But what Mr. Parcher contemplated as romance arose from the fact that
+      these young people were dancing on a spot where their great-grandfathers
+      had scalped Indians. Music was made for them by descendants, it might well
+      be, of Romulus, of Messalina, of Benvenuto Cellini, and, around behind the
+      house, waiting to serve the dancers with light food and drink, lounged and
+      gossiped grandchildren of the Congo, only a generation or so removed from
+      dances for which a chance stranger furnished both the occasion and the
+      refreshments. Such, in brief, was Mr. Parcher's peculiar view of what
+      constituted the romantic element.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And upon another subject preoccupying both Mr. Parcher and William, their
+      two views, though again founded upon one thought, had no real
+      congeniality. The preoccupying subject was the imminence of Miss Pratt's
+      departure;&mdash;neither Mr. Parcher nor William forgot it for an instant.
+      No matter what else played upon the surface of their attention, each kept
+      saying to himself, underneath: &ldquo;This is the last night&mdash;the last
+      night! Miss Pratt is going away&mdash;going away to-morrow!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Parcher's expression was peaceful. It was more peaceful than it had
+      been for a long time. In fact, he wore the look of a man who had been
+      through the mill but now contemplated a restful and health-restoring
+      vacation. For there are people in this world who have no respect for the
+      memory of Ponce de Leon, and Mr. Parcher had come to be of their number.
+      The elimination of William from his evenings had lightened the burden;
+      nevertheless, Mr. Parcher would have stated freely and openly to any
+      responsible party that a yearning for the renewal of his youth had not
+      been intensified by his daughter's having as a visitor, all summer long, a
+      howling belle of eighteen who talked baby-talk even at breakfast and
+      spread her suitors all over the small house&mdash;and its one veranda&mdash;from
+      eight in the morning until hours of the night long after their mothers (in
+      Mr. Parcher's opinion) should have sent their fathers to march them home.
+      Upon Mr. Parcher's optimism the effect of so much unavoidable observation
+      of young love had been fatal; he declared repeatedly that his faith in the
+      human race was about gone. Furthermore, his physical constitution had
+      proved pathetically vulnerable to nightly quartets, quintets, and even
+      octets, on the porch below his bedchamber window, so that he was wont to
+      tell his wife that never, never could he expect to be again the man he had
+      been in the spring before Miss Pratt came to visit May. And, referring to
+      conversations which he almost continuously overheard, perforce, Mr.
+      Parcher said that if this was the way HE talked at that age, he would far
+      prefer to drown in an ordinary fountain, and be dead and done with it,
+      than to bathe in Ponce de Leon's.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Altogether, the summer had been a severe one; he doubted that he could
+      have survived much more of it. And now that it was virtually over, at
+      last, he was so resigned to the departure of his daughter's lovely little
+      friend that he felt no regret for the splurge with which her visit was
+      closing. Nay, to speed the parting guest&mdash;such was his lavish mood&mdash;twice
+      and thrice over would he have paid for the lights, the flowers, the music,
+      the sandwiches, the coffee, the chicken salad, the cake, the
+      lemonade-punch, and the ice-cream.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thus did the one thought divide itself between William and Mr. Parcher,
+      keeping itself deep and pure under all their other thoughts. &ldquo;Miss Pratt
+      is going away!&rdquo; thought William and Mr. Parcher. &ldquo;Miss PRATT is going away&mdash;to-morrow!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The unuttered words advanced tragically toward the gate in the head of
+      William at the same time that they moved contentedly away in the head of
+      Mr. Parcher; for Mr. Parcher caught sight of his wife just then, and went
+      to join her as she sank wearily upon the front steps.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Taking a rest for a minute?&rdquo; he inquired. &ldquo;By George! we're both entitled
+      to a good LONG rest, after to-night! If we could afford it, we'd go away
+      to a quiet little sanitarium in the hills, somewhere, and&mdash;&rdquo; He
+      ceased to speak and there was the renewal of an old bitterness in his
+      expression as his staring eyes followed the movements of a stately young
+      form entering the gateway. &ldquo;Look at it!&rdquo; said Mr. Parcher in a whisper.
+      &ldquo;Just look at it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look at what?&rdquo; asked his wife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That Baxter boy!&rdquo; said Mr. Parcher, as William passed on toward the
+      dancers. &ldquo;What's he think he's imitating&mdash;Henry Irving? Look at his
+      walk!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He walks that way a good deal, lately, I've noticed,&rdquo; said Mrs. Parcher
+      in a tired voice. &ldquo;So do Joe Bullitt and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He didn't even come to say good evening to you,&rdquo; Mr. Parcher interrupted.
+      &ldquo;Talk about MANNERS, nowadays! These young&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He didn't see us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, we're used to that,&rdquo; said Mr. Parcher. &ldquo;None of 'em see us. They've
+      worn holes in all the cane-seated chairs, they've scuffed up the whole
+      house, and I haven't been able to sit down anywhere down-stairs for three
+      months without sitting on some dam boy; but they don't even know we're
+      alive! Well, thank the Lord, it's over&mdash;after to-night!&rdquo; His voice
+      became reflective. &ldquo;That Baxter boy was the worst, until he took to coming
+      in the daytime when I was down-town. I COULDN'T have stood it if he'd kept
+      on coming in the evening. If I'd had to listen to any more of his talking
+      or singing, either the embalmer or the lunatic-asylum would have had me,
+      sure! I see he's got hold of his daddy's dress-suit again for to-night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it Mr. Baxter's dress-suit?&rdquo; Mrs. Parcher inquired. &ldquo;How do you know?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Parcher smiled. &ldquo;How I happen to know is a secret,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I forgot
+      about that. His little sister, Jane, told me that Mrs. Baxter had hidden
+      it, or something, so that Willie couldn't wear it, but I guess Jane
+      wouldn't mind my telling YOU that she told me especially as they're
+      letting him use it again to-night. I suppose he feels grander 'n the King
+      o' Siam!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; Mrs. Parcher returned, thoughtfully. &ldquo;I don't think he does, just
+      now.&rdquo; Her gaze was fixed upon the dancing-platform, which most of the
+      dancers were abandoning as the music fell away to an interval of silence.
+      In the center of the platform there remained one group, consisting of Miss
+      Pratt and five orators, and of the orators the most impassioned and
+      gesticulative was William.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They all seem to want to dance with her all the time,&rdquo; said Mrs. Parcher.
+      &ldquo;I heard her telling one of the boys, half an hour ago, that all she could
+      give him was either the twenty-eighth regular dance or the sixteenth
+      'extra.'&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The what?&rdquo; Mr. Parcher demanded, whirling to face her. &ldquo;Do they think
+      this party's going to keep running till day after to-morrow?&rdquo; And then, as
+      his eyes returned to the group on the platform, &ldquo;That boy seems to have
+      quite a touch of emotional insanity,&rdquo; he remarked, referring to William.
+      &ldquo;What IS the matter with him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, nothing,&rdquo; his wife returned. &ldquo;Only trying to arrange a dance with
+      her. He seems to be in difficulties.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0029" id="link2H_4_0029">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      XXVI
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      MISS BOKE
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      Nothing could have been more evident than William's difficulties. They
+      continued to exist, with equal obviousness, when the group broke up in
+      some confusion, after a few minutes of animated discussion; Mr. Wallace
+      Banks, that busy and executive youth, bearing Miss Pratt triumphantly off
+      to the lemonade-punch-bowl, while William pursued Johnnie Watson and Joe
+      Bullitt. He sought to detain them near the edge of the platform, though
+      they appeared far from anxious to linger in his company; and he was able
+      to arrest their attention only by clutching an arm of each. In fact, the
+      good feeling which had latterly prevailed among these three appeared to be
+      in danger of disintegrating. The occasion was too vital; and the watchword
+      for &ldquo;Miss Pratt's last night&rdquo; was Devil-Take-the-Hindmost!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now you look here, Johnnie,&rdquo; William said, vehemently, &ldquo;and you listen,
+      too, Joe! You both got seven dances apiece with her, anyway, all on
+      account of my not getting here early enough, and you got to&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It wasn't because of any such reason,&rdquo; young Mr. Watson protested. &ldquo;I
+      asked her for mine two days ago.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, THAT wasn't fair, was it?&rdquo; William cried. &ldquo;Just because I never
+      thought of sneaking in ahead like that, you go and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, you ought to thought of it,&rdquo; Johnnie retorted, jerking his arm free
+      of William's grasp. &ldquo;I can't stand here GABBIN' all night!&rdquo; And he hurried
+      away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Joe,&rdquo; William began, fastening more securely upon Mr. Bullitt&mdash;&ldquo;Joe,
+      I've done a good many favors for you, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've got to see a man,&rdquo; Mr. Bullitt interrupted. &ldquo;Lemme go, Silly Bill.
+      There's some body I got to see right away before the next dance begins. I
+      GOT to! Honest I have!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      William seized him passionately by the lapels of his coat. &ldquo;Listen, Joe.
+      For goodness' sake can't you listen a MINUTE? You GOT to give me&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Honest, Bill,&rdquo; his friend expostulated, backing away as forcefully as
+      possible, &ldquo;I got to find a fellow that's here to-night and ask him about
+      something important before&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ye gods! Can't you wait a MINUTE?&rdquo; William cried, keeping his grip upon
+      Joe's lapels. &ldquo;You GOT to give me anyway TWO out of all your dances with
+      her! You heard her tell me, yourself, that she'd be willing if you or
+      Johnnie or&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I only got five or six with her, and a couple extras. Johnnie's got
+      seven. Whyn't you go after Johnnie? I bet he'd help you out, all right, if
+      you kept after him. What you want to pester ME for, Bill?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The brutal selfishness of this speech, as well as its cold-blooded
+      insincerity, produced in William the impulse to smite. Fortunately, his
+      only hope lay in persuasion, and after a momentary struggle with his own
+      features he was able to conceal what he desired to do to Joe's.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He swallowed, and, increasing the affectionate desperation of his clutch
+      upon Mr. Bullitt's lapels, &ldquo;Joe,&rdquo; he began, huskily&mdash;&ldquo;Joe, if <i>I</i>'d
+      got six reg'lar and two extras with Miss Pratt her last night here, and
+      you got here late, and it wasn't your fault&mdash;I couldn't help being
+      late, could I? It wasn't my fault I was late, I guess, was it? Well, if I
+      was in YOUR place I wouldn't act the way you and Johnnie do&mdash;not in a
+      thousand years I wouldn't! I'd say, 'You want a couple o' my dances with
+      Miss Pratt, ole man? Why, CERTAINLY&mdash;'&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, you would!&rdquo; was the cynical comment of Mr. Bullitt, whose averted
+      face and reluctant shoulders indicated a strong desire to conclude the
+      interview. &ldquo;To-night, especially!&rdquo; he added.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look here, Joe,&rdquo; said William, desperately, &ldquo;don't you realize that this
+      is the very last night Miss Pratt's going to be in this town?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You bet I do!&rdquo; These words, though vehement, were inaudible; being formed
+      in the mind of Mr. Bullitt, but, for diplomatic reasons, not projected
+      upon the air by his vocal organs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      William continued: &ldquo;Joe, you and I have been friends ever since you and I
+      were boys.&rdquo; He spoke with emotion, but Joe had no appearance of being
+      favorably impressed. &ldquo;And when I look back,&rdquo; said William, &ldquo;I expect I've
+      done more favors for you than I ever have for any oth&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Mr. Bullitt briskly interrupted this appealing reminiscence. &ldquo;Listen
+      here, Silly Bill,&rdquo; he said, becoming all at once friendly and encouraging&mdash;&ldquo;Bill,
+      there's other girls here you can get dances with. There's one or two of
+      'em sittin' around in the yard. You can have a bully time, even if you did
+      come late.&rdquo; And, with the air of discharging happily all the obligations
+      of which William had reminded him, he added, &ldquo;I'll tell you THAT much,
+      Bill!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Joe, you got to give me anyway ONE da&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look!&rdquo; said Mr. Bullitt, eagerly. &ldquo;Look sittin' yonder, over under that
+      tree all by herself! That's a visiting girl named Miss Boke; she's
+      visiting some old uncle or something she's got livin' here, and I bet you
+      could&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Joe, you GOT to&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I bet that Miss Boke's a good dancer, Bill,&rdquo; Joe continued, warmly. &ldquo;May
+      Parcher says so. She was tryin' to get me to dance with her myself, but I
+      couldn't, or I would of. Honest, Bill, I would of! Bill, if I was you I'd
+      sail right in there before anybody else got a start, and I'd&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ole man,&rdquo; said William, gently, &ldquo;you remember the time Miss Pratt and I
+      had an engagement to go walkin', and you wouldn't of seen her for a week
+      on account of your aunt dyin' in Kansas City, if I hadn't let you go along
+      with us? Ole man, if you&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But the music sounded for the next dance, and Joe felt that it was indeed
+      time to end this uncomfortable conversation. &ldquo;I got to go, Bill,&rdquo; he said.
+      &ldquo;I GOT to!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wait just one minute,&rdquo; William implored. &ldquo;I want to say just this: if&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here!&rdquo; exclaimed Mr. Bullitt. &ldquo;I got to GO!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know it. That's why&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Heedless of remonstrance, Joe wrenched himself free, for it would have
+      taken a powerful and ruthless man to detain him longer. &ldquo;What you take me
+      for?&rdquo; he demanded, indignantly. &ldquo;I got this with Miss PRATT!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And evading a hand which still sought to clutch him, he departed hotly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      ... Mr. Parcher's voice expressed wonder, a little later, as he
+      recommended his wife to turn her gaze in the direction of &ldquo;that Baxter
+      boy&rdquo; again. &ldquo;Just look at him!&rdquo; said Mr. Parcher. &ldquo;His face has got more
+      genuine idiocy in it than I've seen around here yet, and God knows I've
+      been seeing some miracles in that line this summer!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He's looking at Lola Pratt,&rdquo; said Mrs. Parcher.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't you suppose I can see that?&rdquo; Mr. Parcher returned, with some
+      irritation. &ldquo;That's what's the trouble with him. Why don't he QUIT looking
+      at her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think probably he feels badly because she's dancing with one of the
+      other boys,&rdquo; said his wife, mildly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then why can't he dance with somebody else himself?&rdquo; Mr. Parcher
+      inquired, testily. &ldquo;Instead of standing around like a calf looking out of
+      the butcher's wagon! By George! he looks as if he was just going to MOO!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course he ought to be dancing with somebody,&rdquo; Mrs. Parcher remarked,
+      thoughtfully. &ldquo;There are one or two more girls than boys here, and he's
+      the only boy not dancing. I believe I'll&mdash;&rdquo; And, not stopping to
+      complete the sentence, she rose and walked across the interval of grass to
+      William. &ldquo;Good evening, William,&rdquo; she said, pleasantly. &ldquo;Don't you want to
+      dance?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ma'am?&rdquo; said William, blankly, and the eyes he turned upon here were
+      glassy with anxiety. He was still determined to dance on and on and on
+      with Miss Pratt, but he realized that there were great obstacles to be
+      overcome before he could begin the process. He was feverishly awaiting the
+      next interregnum between dances&mdash;then he would show Joe Bullitt and
+      Johnnie Watson and Wallace Banks, and some others who had set themselves
+      in his way, that he was &ldquo;abs'lutely not goin' to stand it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He couldn't stand it, he told himself, even if he wanted to&mdash;not
+      to-night! He had &ldquo;been through enough&rdquo; in order to get to the party, he
+      thought, thus defining sufferings connected with his costume, and now that
+      he was here he WOULD dance and dance, on and on, with Miss Pratt. Anything
+      else was unthinkable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He HAD to!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't you want to dance?&rdquo; Mrs. Parcher repeated. &ldquo;Have you looked around
+      for a girl without a partner?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He continued to stare at her, plainly having no comprehension of her
+      meaning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Girl?&rdquo; he echoed, in a tone of feeble inquiry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She smiled and nodded, taking his arm. &ldquo;You come with me,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I'LL
+      fix you up!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      William suffered her to conduct him across the yard. Intensely preoccupied
+      with what he meant to do as soon as the music paused, he was somewhat
+      hazy, but when he perceived that he was being led in the direction of a
+      girl, sitting solitary under one of the maple-trees, the sudden shock of
+      fear aroused his faculties.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What&mdash;where&mdash;&rdquo; he stammered, halting and seeking to detach
+      himself from his hostess.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is it?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I got&mdash;I got to&mdash;&rdquo; William began, uneasily. &ldquo;I got to&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His purpose was to excuse himself on the ground that he had to find a man
+      and tell him something important before the next dance, for in the
+      confusion of the moment his powers refused him greater originality. But
+      the vital part of his intended excuse remained unspoken, being disregarded
+      and cut short, as millions of other masculine diplomacies have been,
+      throughout the centuries, by the decisive action of ladies.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Boke had been sitting under the mapletree for a long time&mdash;so
+      long, indeed, that she was acquiring a profound distaste for forestry and
+      even for maple syrup. In fact, her state of mind was as desperate, in its
+      way, as William's; and when a hostess leads a youth (in almost perfectly
+      fitting conventional black) toward a girl who has been sitting alone
+      through dance after dance, that girl knows what that youth is going to
+      have to do.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It must be confessed for Miss Boke that her eyes had been upon William
+      from the moment Mrs. Parcher addressed him. Nevertheless, as the pair came
+      toward her she looked casually away in an indifferent manner. And yet this
+      may have been but a seeming unconsciousness, for upon the very instant of
+      William's halting, and before he had managed to stammer &ldquo;I got to&mdash;&rdquo;
+       for the fourth time, Miss Boke sprang to her feet and met Mrs. Parcher
+      more than halfway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Mrs. Parcher!&rdquo; she called, coming forward.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I got&mdash;&rdquo; the panic-stricken William again hastily began. &ldquo;I got to&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Mrs. Parcher,&rdquo; cried Miss Boke, &ldquo;I've been SO worried! There's a
+      candle in that Japanese lantern just over your head, and I think it's
+      going out.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll run and get a fresh one in a minute,&rdquo; said Mrs. Parcher, smiling
+      benevolently and retaining William's arm with a little difficulty. &ldquo;We
+      were just coming to find you. I've brought&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I got to&mdash;I got to find a m&mdash;&rdquo; William made a last, stricken
+      effort.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss Boke, this is Mr. Baxter,&rdquo; said Mrs. Parcher, and she added, with
+      what seemed to William hideous garrulity, &ldquo;He and you both came late,
+      dear, and he hasn't any dances engaged, either. So run and dance, and have
+      a nice time together.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thereupon this disastrous woman returned to her husband. Her look was
+      conscientious; she thought she had done something pleasant!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The full horror of his position was revealed to William in the relieved,
+      confident, proprietor's smile of Miss Boke. For William lived by a code
+      from which no previous experience had taught him any means of escape. Mrs.
+      Parcher had made the statement&mdash;so needless and so ruinous&mdash;that
+      he had no engagements; and in his dismay he had been unable to deny this
+      fatal truth; he had been obliged to let it stand. Henceforth, he was
+      committed absolutely to Miss Boke until either some one else asked her to
+      dance, or (while yet in her close company) William could obtain an
+      engagement with another girl. The latter alternative presented certain
+      grave difficulties, also contracting William to dance with the other girl
+      before once more obtaining his freedom, but undeniably he regarded it from
+      the first as the more hopeful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had to give form to the fatal invitation. &ldquo;M'av this dance 'thyou?&rdquo; he
+      muttered, doggedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Vurry pleased to!&rdquo; Miss Boke responded, whereupon they walked in silence
+      to the platform, stepped upon its surface, and embraced.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They made a false start.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They made another.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They stood swaying to catch the time; then made another. After that they
+      tried again, and were saved from a fall only by spasmodic and noticeable
+      contortions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Boke laughed tolerantly, as if forgiving William for his awkwardness,
+      and his hot heart grew hotter with that injustice. She was a large, ample
+      girl, weighing more than William (this must be definitely claimed in his
+      behalf), and she had been spending the summer at a lakeside hotel where
+      she had constantly danced &ldquo;man's part.&rdquo; To paint William's predicament at
+      a stroke, his partner was a determined rather than a graceful dancer&mdash;and
+      their efforts to attune themselves to each other and to the music were in
+      a fair way to attract general attention.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A coarse chuckle, a half-suppressed snort, assailed William's scarlet ear,
+      and from the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of Joe Bullitt gliding
+      by, suffused; while over Joe's detested shoulder could be seen the
+      adorable and piquant face of the One girl&mdash;also suffused.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Doggone it!&rdquo; William panted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, you mustn't be discouraged with yourself,&rdquo; said Miss Boke, genially.
+      &ldquo;I've met lots of Men that had trouble to get started and turned out to be
+      right good dancers, after all. It seems to me we're kind of workin'
+      against each other. I'll tell you&mdash;you kind of let me do the guiding
+      and I'll get you going fine. Now! ONE, two, ONE, two! There!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      William ceased to struggle for dominance, and their efforts to &ldquo;get
+      started&rdquo; were at once successful. With a muscular power that was
+      surprising, Miss Boke bore him out into the circling current, swung him
+      round and round, walked him backward half across the platform, then swung
+      him round and round and round again. For a girl, she &ldquo;guided&rdquo; remarkably
+      well; nevertheless, a series of collisions, varying in intensity, marked
+      the path of the pair upon the rather crowded platform. In such emergencies
+      Miss Boke proved herself deft in swinging William to act as a buffer, and
+      he several times found himself heavily stricken from the rear; anon his
+      face would be pressed suffocatingly into Miss Boke's hair, without the
+      slightest wish on his part for such intimacy. He had a helpless feeling,
+      fully warranted by the circumstances. Also, he soon became aware that Miss
+      Boke's powerful &ldquo;guiding&rdquo; was observed by the public; for, after one
+      collision, more severe than others, a low voice hissed in his ear:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;SHE WON'T HURT YOU MUCH, SILLY BILL. SHE'S ONLY IN FUN!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This voice belonged to the dancer with whom he had just been in painful
+      contact, Johnnie Watson. However, Johnnie had whirled far upon another
+      orbit before William found a retort, and then it was a feeble one.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish YOU'D try a few dances with her!&rdquo; he whispered, inaudibly, but
+      with unprecedented bitterness, as the masterly arm of his partner just
+      saved him from going over the edge of the platform. &ldquo;I bet she'd kill
+      you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      More than once he tried to assert himself and resume his natural place as
+      guide, but each time he did so he immediately got out of step with his
+      partner, their knees collided embarrassingly, they staggered and walked
+      upon each other's insteps&mdash;and William was forced to abandon the
+      unequal contest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I just love dancing,&rdquo; said Miss Boke, serenely. &ldquo;Don't you, Mr. Baxter?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What?&rdquo; he gulped. &ldquo;Yeh.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's a beautiful floor for dancing, isn't it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yeh.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I just love dancing,&rdquo; Miss Boke thought proper to declare again. &ldquo;Don't
+      you love it, Mr. Baxter?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This time he considered his enthusiasm to be sufficiently indicated by a
+      nod. He needed all his breath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's lovely,&rdquo; she murmured. &ldquo;I hope they don't play 'Home, Sweet Home'
+      very early at parties in this town. I could keep on like this all night!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      To the gasping William it seemed that she already had kept on like this
+      all night, and he expressed himself in one great, frank, agonized moan of
+      relief when the music stopped. &ldquo;I sh' think those musicians 'd be dead!&rdquo;
+       he said, as he wiped his brow. And then discovering that May Parcher stood
+      at his elbow, he spoke hastily to her. &ldquo;M'av the next 'thyou?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Miss Parcher had begun to applaud the musicians for an encore. She
+      shook her head. &ldquo;Next's the third extra,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;And, anyhow, this
+      one's going to be encored now. You can have the twenty-second&mdash;if
+      there IS any!&rdquo; William threw a wild glance about him, looking for other
+      girls, but the tireless orchestra began to play the encore, and Miss Boke,
+      who had been applauding, instantly cast herself upon his bosom. &ldquo;Come on!&rdquo;
+       she cried. &ldquo;Don't let's miss a second of it; It's just glorious!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      When the encore was finished she seized William's arm, and, mentioning
+      that she'd left her fan upon the chair under the maple-tree, added, &ldquo;Come
+      on! Let's go get it QUICK!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Under the maple-tree she fanned herself and talked of her love for dancing
+      until the music sounded again. &ldquo;Come on!&rdquo; she cried, then. &ldquo;Don't let's
+      miss a second of it! It's just glorious!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And grasping his arm, she propelled him toward the platform with a merry
+      little rush.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So passed five dances. Long, long dances.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Likewise five encores. Long encores.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0030" id="link2H_4_0030">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      XXVII
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      MAROONED
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      At every possible opportunity William hailed other girls with a hasty
+      &ldquo;M'av the next 'thyou?&rdquo; but he was indeed unfortunate to have arrived so
+      late.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The best he got was a promise of &ldquo;the nineteenth&mdash;if there IS any!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      After each dance Miss Boke conducted him back to the maple-tree, aloof
+      from the general throng, and William found the intermissions almost equal
+      to his martyrdoms upon the platform. But, as there was a barely
+      perceptible balance in their favor, he collected some fragments of his
+      broken spirit, when Miss Boke would have borne him to the platform for the
+      sixth time, and begged to &ldquo;sit this one out,&rdquo; alleging that he had &ldquo;kind
+      of turned his ankle, or something,&rdquo; he believed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The cordial girl at once placed him upon the chair and gallantly procured
+      another for herself. In her solicitude she sat close to him, looking
+      fondly at his face, while William, though now and then rubbing his ankle
+      for plausibility's sake, gazed at the platform with an expression which
+      Gustave Dore would gratefully have found suggestive. William was conscious
+      of a voice continually in action near him, but not of what it said. Miss
+      Boke was telling him of the dancing &ldquo;up at the lake&rdquo; where she had spent
+      the summer, and how much she had loved it, but William missed all that.
+      Upon the many-colored platform the ineffable One drifted to and fro, back
+      and forth; her little blonde head, in a golden net, glinting here and
+      there like a bit of tinsel blowing across a flower-garden.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And when that dance and its encore were over she went to lean against a
+      tree, while Wallace Banks fanned her, but she was so busy with Wallace
+      that she did not notice William, though she passed near enough to waft a
+      breath of violet scent to his wan nose. A fragment of her silver speech
+      tinkled in his ear:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Wallie Banks! Bid pid s'ant have Bruvva Josie-Joe's dance 'less Joe
+      say so. Lola MUS' be fair. Wallie mustn't&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's that Miss Pratt,&rdquo; observed Miss Boke, following William's gaze
+      with some interest. &ldquo;You met her yet?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yeh,&rdquo; said William.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She's been visiting here all summer,&rdquo; Miss Boke informed him. &ldquo;I was at a
+      little tea this afternoon, and some of the girls said this Miss Pratt said
+      she'd never DREAM of getting engaged to any man that didn't have seven
+      hundred and fifty thousand dollars. I don't know if it's true or not, but
+      I expect so. Anyway, they said they heard her say so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      William lifted his right hand from his ankle and passed it, time after
+      time, across his damp forehead. He did not believe that Miss Pratt could
+      have expressed herself in so mercenary a manner, but if she HAD&mdash;well,
+      one fact in British history had so impressed him that he remembered it
+      even after Examination: William Pitt, the younger, had been Prime Minister
+      of England at twenty-one.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      If an Englishman could do a thing like that, surely a bright, energetic
+      young American needn't feel worried about seven hundred and fifty thousand
+      dollars! And although William, at seventeen, had seldom possessed more
+      than seven hundred and fifty cents, four long years must pass, and much
+      could be done, before he would reach the age at which William Pitt
+      attained the premiership&mdash;coincidentally a good, ripe, marriageable
+      age. Still, seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars is a stiffish order,
+      even allowing four long years to fill it; and undoubtedly Miss Boke's bit
+      of gossip added somewhat to the already sufficient anxieties of William's
+      evening.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Up at the lake,&rdquo; Miss Boke chattered on, &ldquo;we got to use the hotel
+      dining-room for the hops. It's a floor a good deal like this floor is
+      to-night&mdash;just about oily enough and as nice a floor as ever I danced
+      on. We have awf'ly good times up at the lake. 'Course there aren't so many
+      Men up there, like there are here to-night, and I MUST say I AM glad to
+      get a chance to dance with a Man again! I told you you'd dance all right,
+      once we got started, and look at the way it's turned out: our steps just
+      suit exactly! If I must say it, I could scarcely think of anybody I EVER
+      met I'd rather dance with. When anybody's step suits in with mine, that
+      way, why, I LOVE to dance straight through an evening with one person, the
+      way we're doing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Dimly, yet with strong repulsion, William perceived that their
+      interminable companionship had begun to affect Miss Boke with a liking for
+      him. And as she chattered chummily on, revealing this increasing
+      cordiality all the while&mdash;though her more obvious topics were
+      dancing, dancing-floors, and &ldquo;the lake&rdquo;&mdash;the reciprocal sentiment
+      roused in his breast was that of Sindbad the Sailor for the Old Man of the
+      Sea.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was unable to foresee a future apart from her; and when she informed
+      him that she preferred his style of dancing to all other styles shown by
+      the Men at this party, her thus singling him out for praise only
+      emphasized, in his mind, that point upon which he was the most embittered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes!&rdquo; he reflected. &ldquo;It had to be ME!&rdquo; With all the crowd to choose from,
+      Mrs. Parcher had to go and pick on HIM! All, all the others went about,
+      free as air, flitting from girl to girl&mdash;girls that danced like
+      girls! All, all except William, danced with Miss PRATT! What Miss Pratt
+      had offered HIM was a choice between the thirty-second dance and the
+      twenty-first extra. THAT was what he had to look forward to: the
+      thirty-second reg'lar or the twenty-first extra!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Meanwhile, merely through eternity, he was sealed unto Miss Boke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The tie that bound them oppressed him as if it had been an ill-omened
+      matrimony, and he sat beside her like an unwilling old husband. All the
+      while, Miss Boke had no appreciation whatever of her companion's real
+      condition, and, when little, spasmodic, sinister changes appeared in his
+      face (as they certainly did from time to time) she attributed them to
+      pains in his ankle. However, William decided to discard his ankle, after
+      they had &ldquo;sat out&rdquo; two dances on account of it. He decided that he
+      preferred dancing, and said he guessed he must be better.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So they danced again&mdash;and again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the fourteenth dance came, about half an hour before midnight, they
+      were still dancing together.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was upon the conclusion of this fourteenth dance that Mr. Parcher
+      mentioned to his wife a change in his feelings toward William. &ldquo;I've been
+      watching him,&rdquo; said Mr. Parcher, &ldquo;and I never saw true misery show
+      plainer. He's having a really horrible time. By George! I hate him, but
+      I've begun to feel kind of sorry for him! Can't you trot up somebody else,
+      so he can get away from that fat girl?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Parcher shook her head in a discouraged way. &ldquo;I've tried, and I've
+      tried, and I've tried!&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, try again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can't now.&rdquo; She waved her hand toward the rear of the house. Round the
+      corner marched a short procession of negroes, bearing trays; and the
+      dancers were dispersing themselves to chairs upon the lawn &ldquo;for
+      refreshments.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, do something,&rdquo; Mr. Parcher urged. &ldquo;We don't want to find him in the
+      cistern in the morning!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Parcher looked thoughtful, then brightened. &ldquo;<i>I</i> know!&rdquo; she
+      said. &ldquo;I'll make May and Lola and their partners come sit in this little
+      circle of chairs here, and then I'll go and bring Willie and Miss Boke to
+      sit with them. I'll give Willie the seat at Lola's left. You keep the
+      chairs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Straightway she sped upon her kindly errand. It proved successful, so
+      successful, indeed, that without the slightest effort&mdash;without even a
+      hint on her part&mdash;she brought not only William and his constant
+      friend to sit in the circle with Miss Pratt, Miss Parcher and their
+      escorts, but Mr. Bullitt, Mr. Watson, Mr. Banks, and three other young
+      gentlemen as well. Nevertheless, Mrs. Parcher managed to carry out her
+      plan, and after a little display of firmness, saw William satisfactorily
+      established in the chair at Miss Pratt's left.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At last, at last, he sat beside the fairy-like creature, and filled his
+      lungs with infinitesimal particles of violet scent. More: he was no sooner
+      seated than the little blonde head bent close to his; the golden net
+      brushed his cheek. She whispered:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No'ty ickle boy Batster! Lola's last night, an' ickle boy Batster
+      fluttin'! Flut all night wif dray bid dirl!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      William made no reply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There are occasions, infrequent, of course, when even a bachelor is not
+      flattered by being accused of flirting. William's feelings toward Miss
+      Boke had by this time come to such a pass that he, regarded the charge of
+      flirting with her as little less than an implication of grave mental
+      deficiency. And well he remembered how Miss Pratt, beholding his
+      subjugated gymnastics in the dance, had grown pink with laughter! But
+      still the rose-leaf lips whispered:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lola saw! Lola saw bad boy Batster under dray bid tree fluttin' wif dray
+      bid dirl. Fluttin' all night wif dray bid 'normous dirl!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her cruelty was all unwitting; she intended to rally him sweetly. But
+      seventeen is deathly serious at such junctures, and William was in a
+      sensitive condition. He made no reply in words. Instead, he drew himself
+      up (from the waist, that is, because he was sitting) with a kind of proud
+      dignity. And that was all.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oo tross?&rdquo; whispered Lola.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He spake not.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Twasn't my fault about dancing,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Bad boy! What made you come
+      so late?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He maintained his silence and the accompanying icy dignity, whereupon she
+      made a charming little pout.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oo be so tross,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;Lola talk to nice Man uvver side of her!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With that she turned her back upon him and prattled merrily to the
+      gentleman of sixteen upon her right.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Still and cold sat William. Let her talk to the Man at the other side of
+      her as she would, and never so gaily, William knew that she was conscious
+      every instant of the reproachful presence upon her left. And somehow these
+      moments of quiet and melancholy dignity became the most satisfactory he
+      had known that evening. For as he sat, so silent, so austere, and not yet
+      eating, though a plate of chicken salad had been placed upon his lap, he
+      began to feel that there was somewhere about him a mysterious superiority
+      which set him apart from other people&mdash;and above them. This quality,
+      indefinable and lofty, had carried him through troubles, that very night,
+      which would have wrecked the lives of such simple fellows as Joe Bullitt
+      and Johnnie Watson. And although Miss Pratt continued to make merry with
+      the Man upon her right, it seemed to William that this was but outward
+      show. He had a strange, subtle impression that the mysterious superiority
+      which set him apart from others was becoming perceptible to her&mdash;that
+      she was feeling it, too.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Alas! Such are the moments Fate seizes upon to play the clown!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Over the chatter and laughter of the guests rose a too familiar voice.
+      &ldquo;Lemme he'p you to nice tongue samwich, lady. No'm? Nice green lettuce
+      samwich, lady?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Genesis!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nice tongue samwich, suh? Nice lettuce samwich, lady?&rdquo; he could be heard
+      vociferating&mdash;perhaps a little too much as if he had sandwiches for
+      sale. &ldquo;Lemme jes' lay this nice green lettuce samwich on you' plate fer
+      you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His wide-spread hand bore the tray of sandwiches high overhead, for his
+      style in waiting was florid, though polished. He walked with a faint,
+      shuffling suggestion of a prance, a lissome pomposity adopted in obedience
+      to the art-sense within him which bade him harmonize himself with
+      occasions of state and fashion. His manner was the super-supreme
+      expression of graciousness, but the graciousness was innocent, being but
+      an affectation and nothing inward&mdash;for inwardly Genesis was humble.
+      He was only pretending to be the kind of waiter he would like to be.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And because he was a new waiter he strongly wished to show familiarity
+      with his duties&mdash;familiarity, in fact, with everything and everybody.
+      This yearning, born of self-doubt, and intensified by a slight touch of
+      gin, was beyond question the inspiration of his painful behavior when he
+      came near the circle of chairs where sat Mr. and Mrs. Parcher, Miss
+      Parcher, Miss Pratt, Miss Boke, Mr. Watson, Mr. Bullitt, others&mdash;and
+      William.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nice tongue samwich, lady!&rdquo; he announced, semi-cake-walking beneath his
+      high-borne tray.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nice green lettuce sam&mdash;&rdquo; He came suddenly to a dramatic dead-stop
+      as he beheld William sitting before him, wearing that strange new dignity
+      and Mr. Baxter's evening clothes. &ldquo;Name o' goo'ness!&rdquo; Genesis exclaimed,
+      so loudly that every one looked up. &ldquo;How in the livin' worl' you evuh come
+      to git here? You' daddy sut'ny mus' 'a' weakened 'way down 'fo' he let you
+      wear his low-cut ves' an' pants an' long-tail coat! I bet any man fifty
+      cents you gone an' stole 'em out aftuh he done went to bed!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And he burst into a wild, free African laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At seventeen such things are not embarrassing; they are catastrophical.
+      But, mercifully, catastrophes often produce a numbness in the victims.
+      More as in a trance than actually William heard the outbreak of his young
+      companions; and, during the quarter of an hour subsequent to Genesis's
+      performance, the oft-renewed explosions of their mirth made but a kind of
+      horrid buzzing in his ears. Like sounds borne from far away were the
+      gaspings of Mr. and Mrs. Parcher, striving with all their strength to
+      obtain mastery of themselves once more.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      ... A flourish of music challenged the dancers. Couples appeared upon the
+      platform.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The dreadful supper was over.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The ineffable One, supremely pink, rose from her seat at William's side
+      and moved toward the platform with the glowing Joe Bullitt. Then William,
+      roused to action by this sight, sprang to his feet and took a step toward
+      them. But it was only one weak step.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A warm and ample hand placed itself firmly inside the crook of his elbow.
+      &ldquo;Let's get started for this one before the floor gets all crowded up,&rdquo;
+       said Miss Boke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Boke danced and danced with him; she danced him on&mdash;and on&mdash;and
+      on&mdash;&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At half past one the orchestra played &ldquo;Home, Sweet Home.&rdquo; As the last bars
+      sounded, a group of earnest young men who had surrounded the lovely guest
+      of honor, talking vehemently, broke into loud shouts, embraced one another
+      and capered variously over the lawn. Mr. Parcher beheld from a distance
+      these manifestations, and then, with an astonishment even more profound,
+      took note of the tragic William, who was running toward him, radiant&mdash;Miss
+      Boke hovering futilely in the far background.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's all the hullabaloo?&rdquo; Mr. Parcher inquired.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss Pratt!&rdquo; gasped William. &ldquo;Miss Pratt!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, what about her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And upon receiving William's reply, Mr. Parcher might well have discerned
+      behind it the invisible hand of an ironic but recompensing Providence
+      making things even&mdash;taking from the one to give to the other.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She's going to stay!&rdquo; shouted the happy William. &ldquo;She's promised to stay
+      another week!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And then, mingling with the sounds of rejoicing, there ascended to heaven
+      the stricken cry of an elderly man plunging blindly into the house in
+      search of his wife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0031" id="link2H_4_0031">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      XXVIII
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      RANNIE KIRSTED
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      Observing the monotonously proper behavior of the sun, man had an absurd
+      idea and invented Time. Becoming still more absurd, man said, &ldquo;So much
+      shall be a day; such and such shall be a week. All weeks shall be the same
+      length.&rdquo; Yet every baby knows better! How long for Johnnie Watson, for Joe
+      Bullitt, for Wallace Banks&mdash;how long for William Sylvanus Baxter was
+      the last week of Miss Pratt? No one can answer. How long was that week for
+      Mr. Parcher? Again the mind is staggered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Many people, of course, considered it to be a week of average size. Among
+      these was Jane.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Throughout seven days which brought some tense moments to the Baxter
+      household, Jane remained calm; and she was still calm upon the eighth
+      morning as she stood in the front yard of her own place of residence,
+      gazing steadily across the street. The object of her grave attention was
+      an ample brick house, newly painted white after repairs and enlargements
+      so inspiring to Jane's faculty for suggesting better ways of doing things,
+      that the workmen had learned to address her, with a slight bitterness, as
+      &ldquo;Madam President.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Throughout the process of repair, and until the very last of the painting,
+      Jane had considered this house to be as much her property as anybody's;
+      for children regard as ownerless all vacant houses and all houses in
+      course of construction or radical alteration. Nothing short of furniture&mdash;intimate
+      furniture in considerable quantity&mdash;hints that the public is not
+      expected. However, such a hint, or warning, was conveyed to Jane this
+      morning, for two &ldquo;express wagons&rdquo; were standing at the curb with their
+      backs impolitely toward the brick house; and powerful-voiced men went
+      surging to and fro under fat arm-chairs, mahogany tables, disarticulated
+      bedsteads, and baskets of china and glassware; while a harassed lady
+      appeared in the outer doorway, from time to time, with gestures of
+      lamentation and entreaty. Upon the sidewalk, between the wagons and the
+      gate, was a broad wet spot, vaguely circular, with a partial circumference
+      of broken glass and extinct goldfish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane was forced to conclude that the brick house did belong to somebody,
+      after all. Wherefore, she remained in her own yard, a steadfast spectator,
+      taking nourishment into her system at regular intervals. This was
+      beautifully automatic: in each hand she held a slice of bread, freely
+      plastered over with butter, apple sauce, and powdered sugar; and when she
+      had taken somewhat from the right hand, that hand slowly descended with
+      its burden, while, simultaneously, the left began to rise, reaching the
+      level of her mouth precisely at the moment when a little wave passed down
+      her neck, indicating that the route was clear. Then, having made delivery,
+      the left hand sank, while the right began to rise again. And, so well had
+      custom trained Jane's members, never once did she glance toward either of
+      these faithful hands or the food that it supported; her gaze was all the
+      while free to remain upon the house across the way and the great doings
+      before it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After a while, something made her wide eyes grow wider almost to their
+      utmost. Nay, the event was of that importance her mechanical hands ceased
+      to move and stopped stock-still, the right half-way up, the left half-way
+      down, as if because of sudden motor trouble within Jane. Her mouth was
+      equally affected, remaining open at a visible crisis in the performance of
+      its duty. These were the tokens of her agitation upon beholding the
+      removal of a dolls' house from one of the wagons. This dolls' house was at
+      least five feet high, of proportionate breadth and depths the customary
+      absence of a facade disclosing an interior of four luxurious floors, with
+      stairways, fireplaces, and wall-paper. Here was a mansion wherein
+      doll-duchesses, no less, must dwell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Straightway, a little girl ran out of the open doorway of the brick house
+      and, with a self-importance concentrated to the point of shrewishness,
+      began to give orders concerning the disposal of her personal property,
+      which included (as she made clear) not only the dolls' mansion, but also
+      three dolls' trunks and a packing-case of fair size. She was a thin little
+      girl, perhaps half a year younger than Jane; and she was as soiled,
+      particularly in respect to hands, brow, chin, and the knees of white
+      stockings, as could be expected of any busybodyish person of nine or ten
+      whose mother is house-moving. But she was gifted&mdash;if we choose to put
+      the matter in the hopeful, sweeter way&mdash;she was gifted with an
+      unusually loud and shrill voice, and she made herself heard over the
+      strong-voiced men to such emphatic effect that one of the latter, with the
+      dolls' mansion upon his back, paused in the gateway to acquaint her with
+      his opinion that of all the bossy little girls he had ever seen, heard, or
+      heard of, she was the bossiest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;THE worst!&rdquo; he added.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The little girl across the street was of course instantly aware of Jane,
+      though she pretended not to be; and from the first her self-importance was
+      in large part assumed for the benefit of the observer. After a momentary
+      silence, due to her failure to think of any proper response to the workman
+      who so pointedly criticized her, she resumed the peremptory direction of
+      her affairs. She ran in and out of the house, her brow dark with frowns,
+      her shoulders elevated; and by every means at her disposal she urged her
+      audience to behold the frightful responsibilities of one who must keep a
+      thousand things in her head at once, and yet be ready for decisive action
+      at any instant.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There may have been one weakness in this strong performance: the artistic
+      sincerity of it was a little discredited by the increasing frequency with
+      which the artist took note of her effect. During each of her most
+      impressive moments, she flashed, from the far corner of her eye, two
+      questions at Jane: &ldquo;How about THAT one? Are you still watching Me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then, apparently in the very midst of her cares, she suddenly and without
+      warning ceased to boss, walked out into the street, halted, and stared
+      frankly at Jane.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane had begun her automatic feeding again. She continued it, meanwhile
+      seriously returning the stare of the new neighbor. For several minutes
+      this mutual calm and inoffensive gaze was protracted; then Jane, after
+      swallowing the last morsel of her supplies, turned her head away and
+      looked at a tree. The little girl, into whose eyes some wistfulness had
+      crept, also turned her head and looked at a tree. After a while, she
+      advanced to the curb on Jane's side of the street, and, swinging her right
+      foot, allowed it to kick the curbstone repeatedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane came out to the sidewalk and began to kick one of the fence-pickets.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You see that ole fatty?&rdquo; asked the little girl, pointing to one of the
+      workmen, thus sufficiently identified.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's the one broke the goldfish,&rdquo; said the little girl. There was a
+      pause during which she continued to scuff the curbstone with her shoe,
+      Jane likewise scuffing the fence-picket. &ldquo;I'm goin' to have papa get him
+      arrested,&rdquo; added the stranger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My papa got two men arrested once,&rdquo; Jane said, calmly. &ldquo;Two or three.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The little girl's eyes, wandering upward, took note of Jane's papa's
+      house, and of a fierce young gentleman framed in an open window up-stairs.
+      He was seated, wore ink upon his forehead, and tapped his teeth with a red
+      penholder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who is that?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's Willie.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it your papa?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;NO-O-O-O!&rdquo; Jane exclaimed. &ldquo;It's WILLIE!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh,&rdquo; said the little girl, apparently satisfied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Each now scuffed less energetically with her shoe; feet slowed down; so
+      did conversation, and, for a time, Jane and the stranger wrapped
+      themselves in stillness, though there may have been some silent communing
+      between them. Then the new neighbor placed her feet far apart and leaned
+      backward upon nothing, curving her front outward and her remarkably
+      flexible spine inward until a profile view of her was grandly
+      semicircular.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane watched her attentively, but without comment. However, no one could
+      have doubted that the processes of acquaintance were progressing
+      favorably.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let's go in our yard,&rdquo; said Jane.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The little girl straightened herself with a slight gasp, and accepted the
+      invitation. Side by side, the two passed through the open gate, walked
+      gravely forth upon the lawn, and halted, as by common consent. Jane
+      thereupon placed her feet wide apart and leaned backward upon nothing,
+      attempting the feat in contortion just performed by the stranger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Look at ME!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But she lacked the other's genius, lost her balance, and fell. Born
+      persistent, she immediately got to her feet and made fresh efforts.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No! Look at ME!&rdquo; the little girl cried, becoming semicircular again.
+      &ldquo;This is the way. I call it 'puttin' your stummick out o' joint.' You
+      haven't got yours out far enough.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I have,&rdquo; said Jane, gasping.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, to do it right, you must WALK that way. As soon as you get your
+      stummick out o' joint, you must begin an' walk. Look! Like this.&rdquo; And the
+      little girl, having achieved a state of such convexity that her braided
+      hair almost touched the ground behind her, walked successfully in that
+      singular attitude.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm walkin',&rdquo; Jane protested, her face not quite upside down. &ldquo;Look! I'M
+      walkin' that way, too. My stummick&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There came an outraged shout from above, and a fierce countenance, stained
+      with ink, protruded from the window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Jane!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Stop that! Stop putting your stomach out in front of you like that! It's
+      disgraceful!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Both young ladies, looking rather oppressed, resumed the perpendicular.
+      &ldquo;Why doesn't he like it?&rdquo; the stranger asked in a tone of pure wonder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know,&rdquo; said Jane. &ldquo;He doesn't like much of anything. He's
+      seventeen years old.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      After that, the two stared moodily at the ground for a little while,
+      chastened by the severe presence above; then Jane brightened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;<i>I</i> know!&rdquo; she exclaimed, cozily. &ldquo;Let's play callers. Right here by
+      this bush 'll be my house. You come to call on me, an' we'll talk about
+      our chuldren. You be Mrs. Smith an' I'm Mrs. Jones.&rdquo; And in the character
+      of a hospitable matron she advanced graciously toward the new neighbor.
+      &ldquo;Why, my dear Mrs. SMITH, come right IN! I THOUGHT you'd call this
+      morning. I want to tell you about my lovely little daughter. She's only
+      ten years old, an' says the brightest THINGS! You really must&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But here Jane interrupted herself abruptly, and, hopping behind the
+      residential bush, peeped over it, not at Mrs. Smith, but at a boy of ten
+      or eleven who was passing along the sidewalk. Her expression was gravely
+      interested, somewhat complacent; and Mrs. Smith was not so lacking in
+      perception that she failed to understand how completely&mdash;for the time
+      being, at least&mdash;calling was suspended.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The boy whistled briskly, &ldquo;My country, 'tis of thee,&rdquo; and though his
+      knowledge of the air failed him when he finished the second line, he was
+      not disheartened, but began at the beginning again, continuing repeatedly
+      after this fashion to offset monotony by patriotism. He whistled loudly;
+      he walked with ostentatious intent to be at some heavy affair in the
+      distance; his ears were red. He looked neither to the right nor to the
+      left.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      That is, he looked neither to the right nor to the left until he had
+      passed the Baxters' fence. But when he had gone as far as the upper corner
+      of the fence beyond, he turned his head and looked back, without any
+      expression&mdash;except that of a whistler&mdash;at Jane. And thus, still
+      whistling &ldquo;My country, 'tis of thee,&rdquo; and with blank pink face over his
+      shoulder, he proceeded until he was out of sight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who was that boy?&rdquo; the new neighbor then inquired.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's Freddie,&rdquo; said Jane, placidly. &ldquo;He's in our Sunday-school. He's in
+      love of me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;JANE!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Again the outraged and ink-stained countenance glared down from the
+      window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What you want?&rdquo; Jane asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What you MEAN talking about such things?&rdquo; William demanded. &ldquo;In all my
+      life I never heard anything as disgusting! Shame on you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The little girl from across the street looked upward thoughtfully. &ldquo;He's
+      mad,&rdquo; she remarked, and, regardless of Jane's previous information, &ldquo;It IS
+      your papa, isn't it?&rdquo; she insisted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No!&rdquo; said Jane, testily. &ldquo;I told you five times it's my brother Willie.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; said the little girl, and, grasping the fact that William's position
+      was, in dignity and authority, negligible, compared with that which she
+      had persisted in imagining, she felt it safe to tint her upward gaze with
+      disfavor. &ldquo;He acts kind of crazy,&rdquo; she murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He's in love of Miss Pratt,&rdquo; said Jane. &ldquo;She's goin' away to-day. She
+      said she'd go before, but to-day she IS! Mr. Parcher, where she visits,
+      he's almost dead, she's stayed so long. She's awful, I think.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      William, to whom all was audible, shouted, hoarsely, &ldquo;I'll see to YOU!&rdquo;
+       and disappeared from the window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will he come down here?&rdquo; the little girl asked, taking a step toward the
+      gate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. He's just gone to call mamma. All she'll do' ll be to tell us to go
+      play somewheres else. Then we can go talk to Genesis.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Genesis. He's puttin' a load of coal in the cellar window with a shovel.
+      He's nice.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's he put the coal in the window for?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He's a colored man,&rdquo; said Jane.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shall we go talk to him now?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; Jane said, thoughtfully. &ldquo;Let's be playin' callers when mamma comes
+      to tell us to go 'way. What was your name?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Rannie.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, it wasn't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is too, Rannie,&rdquo; the little girl insisted. &ldquo;My whole name's Mary
+      Randolph Kirsted, but my short name's Rannie.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane laughed. &ldquo;What a funny name!&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I didn't mean your real
+      name; I meant your callers' name. One of us was Mrs. Jones, and one was&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I want to be Mrs. Jones,&rdquo; said Rannie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, my DEAR Mrs. Jones,&rdquo; Jane began at once, &ldquo;I want to tell you about my
+      lovely chuldren. I have two, one only seven years old, and the other&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Jane!&rdquo; called Mrs. Baxter from William's window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must go somewhere else to play. Willie's trying to work at his
+      studies up here, and he says you've disturbed him very much.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The obedient Jane and her friend turned to go, and as they went, Miss Mary
+      Randolph Kirsted allowed her uplifted eyes to linger with increased
+      disfavor upon William, who appeared beside Mrs. Baxter at the window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I tell you what let's do,&rdquo; Rannie suggested in a lowered voice. &ldquo;He got
+      so fresh with us, an' made your mother come, an' all, let's&mdash;let's&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She hesitated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let's what?&rdquo; Jane urged her, in an eager whisper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let's think up somep'n he won't like&mdash;an' DO it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They disappeared round a corner of the house, their heads close together.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0032" id="link2H_4_0032">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      XXIX
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      &ldquo;DON'T FORGET!&rdquo;
+     </h3>
+    <p>
+      Up-stairs, Mrs. Baxter moved to the door of her son's room, pretending to
+      be unconscious of the gaze he maintained upon her. Mustering courage to
+      hum a little tune and affecting inconsequence, she had nearly crossed the
+      threshold when he said, sternly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And this is all you intend to say to that child?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, yes, Willie.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And yet I told you what she said!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;I told you I HEARD her
+      stand there and tell that dirty-faced little girl how that idiot boy
+      that's always walkin' past here four or five times a day, whistling and
+      looking back, was in 'love of' her! Ye gods! What kind of a person will
+      she grow up into if you don't punish her for havin' ideas like that at her
+      age?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Baxter regarded him mildly, not replying, and he went on, with loud
+      indignation:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I never heard of such a thing! That Worm walkin' past here four or five
+      times a day just to look at JANE! And her standing there, calmly tellin'
+      that sooty-faced little girl, 'He's in love of me'! Why, it's enough to
+      sicken a man! Honestly, if I had my way, I'd see that both she and that
+      little Freddie Banks got a first-class whipping!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't you think, Willie,&rdquo; said Mrs. Baxter&mdash;&ldquo;don't you think that,
+      considering the rather noncommittal method of Freddie's courtship, you are
+      suggesting extreme measures?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, SHE certainly ought to be punished!&rdquo; he insisted, and then, with a
+      reversal to agony, he shuddered. &ldquo;That's the least of it!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;It's
+      the insulting things you always allow her to say of one of the noblest
+      girls in the United States&mdash;THAT'S what counts! On the very last day&mdash;yes,
+      almost the last hour&mdash;that Miss Pratt's in this town, you let your
+      only daughter stand there and speak disrespectfully of her&mdash;and then
+      all you do is tell her to 'go and play somewhere else'! I don't understand
+      your way of bringing up a child,&rdquo; he declared, passionately. &ldquo;I do NOT!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, there, Willie,&rdquo; Mrs. Baxter said. &ldquo;You're all wrought up&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am NOT wrought up!&rdquo; shouted William. &ldquo;Why should I be charged with&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, now!&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;You'll feel better to-morrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you mean by that?&rdquo; he demanded, breathing deeply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For reply she only shook her head in an odd little way, and in her parting
+      look at him there was something at once compassionate, amused, and
+      reassuring.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You'll be all right, Willie,&rdquo; she said, softly, and closed the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Alone, William lifted clenched hands in a series of tumultuous gestures at
+      the ceiling; then he moaned and sank into a chair at his writing-table.
+      Presently a comparative calm was restored to him, and with reverent
+      fingers he took from a drawer a one-pound box of candy, covered with white
+      tissue-paper, girdled with blue ribbon. He set the box gently beside him
+      upon the table; then from beneath a large, green blotter drew forth some
+      scribbled sheets. These he placed before him, and, taking infinite pains
+      with his handwriting, slowly copied:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      DEAR LOLA&mdash;I presume when you are reading these lines it will be this
+      afternoon and you will be on the train moving rapidly away from this old
+      place here farther and farther from it all. As I sit here at my old desk
+      and look back upon it all while I am writing this farewell letter I hope
+      when you are reading it you also will look back upon it all and think of
+      one you called (Alias) Little Boy Baxter. As I sit here this morning that
+      you are going away at last I look back and I cannot rember any summer in
+      my whole life which has been like this summer, because a great change has
+      come over me this summer. If you would like to know what this means it was
+      something like I said when John Watson got there yesterday afternoon and
+      interrupted what I said. May you enjoy this candy and think of the giver.
+      I will put something in with this letter. It is something maybe you would
+      like to have and in exchange I would give all I possess for one of you if
+      you would send it to me when you get home. Please do this for now my heart
+      is braking. Yours sincerely, WILLIAM S. BAXTER (ALIAS) LITTLE BOY BAXTER.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      William opened the box of candy and placed the letter upon the top layer
+      of chocolates. Upon the letter he placed a small photograph (wrapped in
+      tissue-paper) of himself. Then, with a pair of scissors, he trimmed an
+      oblong of white cardboard to fit into the box. Upon this piece of
+      cardboard he laboriously wrote, copying from a tortured, inky sheet before
+      him:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     IN DREAM
+     BY WILLIAM S. BAXTER
+
+     The sunset light
+     Fades into night
+     But never will I forget
+     The smile that haunts me yet
+     Through the future four long years
+     I hope you will remember with tears
+     Whate'er my rank or station
+     Whilst receiving my education
+     Though far away you seem
+     I will see thee in dream.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      He placed his poem between the photograph and the letter, closed the box,
+      and tied the tissue-paper about it again with the blue ribbon. Throughout
+      these rites (they were rites both in spirit and in manner) he was subject
+      to little catchings of the breath, half gulp, half sigh. But the dolorous
+      tokens passed, and he sat with elbows upon the table, his chin upon his
+      hands, reverie in his eyes. Tragedy had given way to gentler pathos;&mdash;beyond
+      question, something had measurably soothed him. Possibly, even in this
+      hour preceding the hour of parting, he knew a little of that proud
+      amazement which any poet is entitled to feel over each new lyric miracle
+      just wrought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Perhaps he was helped, too, by wondering what Miss Pratt would think of
+      him when she read &ldquo;In Dream,&rdquo; on the train that afternoon. For reasons
+      purely intuitive, and decidedly without foundation in fact, he was
+      satisfied that no rival farewell poem would be offered her, and so it may
+      be that he thought &ldquo;In Dream&rdquo; might show her at last, in one blaze of
+      light, what her eyes had sometimes fleetingly intimated she did perceive
+      in part&mdash;the difference between William and such every-day, rather
+      well-meaning, fairly good-hearted people as Joe Bullitt, Wallace Banks,
+      Johnnie Watson, and others. Yes, when she came to read &ldquo;In Dream,&rdquo; and to
+      &ldquo;look back upon it all,&rdquo; she would surely know&mdash;at last!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And then, when the future four long years (while receiving his education)
+      had passed, he would go to her. He would go to her, and she would take him
+      by the hand, and lead him to her father, and say, &ldquo;Father, this is
+      William.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But William would turn to her, and, with the old, dancing light in his
+      eyes, &ldquo;No, Lola,&rdquo; he would say, &ldquo;not William, but Ickle Boy Baxter! Always
+      and always, just that for you; oh, my dear!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And then, as in story and film and farce and the pleasanter kinds of
+      drama, her father would say, with kindly raillery, &ldquo;Well, when you two
+      young people get through, you'll find me in the library, where I have a
+      pretty good BUSINESS proposition to lay before YOU, young man!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And when the white-waistcoated, white-side-burned old man had, chuckling,
+      left the room, William would slowly lift his arms; but Lola would move
+      back from him a step&mdash;only a step&mdash;and after laying a finger
+      archly upon her lips to check him, &ldquo;Wait, sir!&rdquo; she would say. &ldquo;I have a
+      question to ask you, sir!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What question, Lola?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;THIS question, sir!&rdquo; she would reply. &ldquo;In all that summer, sir, so long
+      ago, why did you never tell me what you WERE, until I had gone away and it
+      was too late to show you what I felt? Ah, Ickle Boy Baxter, I never
+      understood until I looked back upon it all, after I had read 'In Dream,'
+      on the train that day! THEN I KNEW!&rdquo; &ldquo;And now, Lola?&rdquo; William would say.
+      &ldquo;Do you understand me, NOW?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Shyly she would advance the one short step she had put between them, while
+      he, with lifted, yearning arms, this time destined to no disappointment&mdash;&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At so vital a moment did Mrs. Baxter knock at his door and consoling
+      reverie cease to minister unto William. Out of the rosy sky he dropped,
+      falling miles in an instant, landing with a bump. He started, placed the
+      sacred box out of sight, and spoke gruffly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What you want?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm not coming in, Willie,&rdquo; said his mother. &ldquo;I just wanted to know&mdash;I
+      thought maybe you were looking out of the window and noticed where those
+      children went.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What children?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Jane and that little girl from across the street&mdash;Kirsted, her name
+      must be.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. I did not.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I just wondered,&rdquo; Mrs. Baxter said, timidly. &ldquo;Genesis thinks he heard the
+      little Kirsted girl telling Jane she had plenty of money for carfare. He
+      thinks they went somewhere on a street-car. I thought maybe you noticed
+      wheth&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I told you I did not.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right,&rdquo; she said, placatively. &ldquo;I didn't mean to bother you, dear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Following this there was a silence; but no sound of receding footsteps
+      indicated Mrs. Baxter's departure from the other side of the closed door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, what you WANT?&rdquo; William shouted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing&mdash;nothing at all,&rdquo; said the compassionate voice. &ldquo;I just
+      thought I'd have lunch a little later than usual; not till half past one.
+      That is if&mdash;well, I thought probably you meant to go to the station
+      to see Miss Pratt off on the one-o'clock train.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Even so friendly an interest as this must have appeared to the quivering
+      William an intrusion in his affairs, for he demanded, sharply:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How'd you find out she's going at one o'clock?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why&mdash;why, Jane mentioned it,&rdquo; Mrs. Baxter replied, with obvious
+      timidity. &ldquo;Jane said&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She was interrupted by the loud, desperate sound of William's fist smiting
+      his writing-table, so sensitive was his condition. &ldquo;This is just
+      unbearable!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;Nobody's business is safe from that child!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Willie, I don't see how it matters if&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He uttered a cry. &ldquo;No! Nothing matters! Nothing matters at all! Do you
+      s'pose I want that child, with her insults, discussing when Miss Pratt is
+      or is not going away? Don't you know there are SOME things that have no
+      business to be talked about by every Tom, Dick, and Harry?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, dear,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I understand, of course. Jane only told me she met
+      Mr. Parcher on the street, and he mentioned that Miss Pratt was going at
+      one o'clock to-day. That's all I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You say you understand,&rdquo; he wailed, shaking his head drearily at the
+      closed door, &ldquo;and yet, even on such a day as this, you keep TALKING! Can't
+      you see sometimes there's times when a person can't stand to&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Willie,&rdquo; Mrs. Baxter interposed, hurriedly. &ldquo;Of course! I'm going
+      now. I have to go hunt up those children, anyway. You try to be back for
+      lunch at half past one&mdash;and don't worry, dear; you really WILL be all
+      right!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She departed, a sigh from the abyss following her as she went down the
+      hall. Her comforting words meant nothing pleasant to her son, who felt
+      that her optimism was out of place and tactless. He had no intention to be
+      &ldquo;all right,&rdquo; and he desired nobody to interfere with his misery.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He went to his mirror, and, gazing long&mdash;long and piercingly&mdash;at
+      the William there limned, enacted, almost unconsciously, a little scene of
+      parting. The look of suffering upon the mirrored face slowly altered; in
+      its place came one still sorrowful, but tempered with sweet indulgence. He
+      stretched out his hand, as if he set it upon a head at about the height of
+      his shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, it may mean&mdash;it may mean forever!&rdquo; he said in a low, tremulous
+      voice. &ldquo;Little girl, we MUST be brave!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And the while his eyes gazed into the mirror, they became expressive of a
+      momentary pleased surprise, as if, even in the arts of sorrow, he found
+      himself doing better than he knew. But his sorrow was none the less
+      genuine because of that.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then he noticed the ink upon his forehead, and went away to wash. When he
+      returned he did an unusual thing&mdash;he brushed his coat thoroughly,
+      removing it for this special purpose. After that, he earnestly combed and
+      brushed his hair, and retied his tie. Next, he took from a drawer two
+      clean handkerchiefs. He placed one in his breast pocket, part of the
+      colored border of the handkerchief being left on exhibition, and with the
+      other he carefully wiped his shoes. Finally, he sawed it back and forth
+      across them, and, with a sigh, languidly dropped it upon the floor, where
+      it remained.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Returning to the mirror, he again brushed his hair&mdash;he went so far,
+      this time, as to brush his eyebrows, which seemed not much altered by the
+      operation. Suddenly, he was deeply affected by something seen in the
+      glass.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By George!&rdquo; he exclaimed aloud.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Seizing a small hand-mirror, he placed it in juxtaposition to his right
+      eye, and closely studied his left profile as exhibited in the larger
+      mirror. Then he examined his right profile, subjecting it to a like
+      scrutiny emotional, yet attentive and prolonged.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By George!&rdquo; he exclaimed, again. &ldquo;By George!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He had made a discovery. There was a downy shadow upon his upper lip. What
+      he had just found out was that this down could be seen projecting beyond
+      the line of his lip, like a tiny nimbus. It could be seen in PROFILE.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By GEORGE!&rdquo; William exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was still occupied with the two mirrors when his mother again tapped
+      softly upon his door, rousing him as from a dream (brief but engaging) to
+      the heavy realities of that day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What you want now?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I won't come in,&rdquo; said Mrs. Baxter. &ldquo;I just came to see.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;See what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wondered&mdash;I thought perhaps you needed something. I knew your
+      watch was out of order&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;F'r 'evan's sake what if it is?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She offered a murmur of placative laughter as her apology, and said:
+      &ldquo;Well, I just thought I'd tell you&mdash;because if you did intend going
+      to the station, I thought you probably wouldn't want to miss it and get
+      there too late. I've got your hat here all nicely brushed for you. It's
+      nearly twenty minutes of one, Willie.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;WHAT?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, it is. It's&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She had no further speech with him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Breathless, William flung open his door, seized the hat, racketed down the
+      stairs, and out through the front door, which he left open behind him.
+      Eight seconds later he returned at a gallop, hurtled up the stairs and
+      into his room, emerging instantly with something concealed under his coat.
+      Replying incoherently to his mother's inquiries, he fell down the stairs
+      as far as the landing, used the impetus thus given as a help to greater
+      speed for the rest of the descent&mdash;and passed out of hearing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Baxter sighed, and went to a window in her own room, and looked out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      William was already more than half-way to the next corner, where there was
+      a car-line that ran to the station; but the distance was not too great for
+      Mrs. Baxter to comprehend the nature of the symmetrical white parcel now
+      carried in his right hand. Her face became pensive as she gazed after the
+      flying slender figure:&mdash;there came to her mind the recollection of a
+      seventeen-year-old boy who had brought a box of candy (a small one, like
+      William's) to the station, once, long ago, when she had been visiting in
+      another town. For just a moment she thought of that boy she had known, so
+      many years ago, and a smile came vaguely upon her lips. She wondered what
+      kind of a woman he had married, and how many children he had&mdash;and
+      whether he was a widower&mdash;&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The fleeting recollection passed; she turned from the window and shook her
+      head, puzzled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now where on earth could Jane and that little Kirsted girl have gone?&rdquo;
+       she murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      ... At the station, William, descending from the street-car, found that he
+      had six minutes to spare. Reassured of so much by the great clock in the
+      station tower, he entered the building, and, with calm and dignified
+      steps, crossed the large waiting-room. Those calm and dignified steps were
+      taken by feet which little betrayed the tremulousness of the knees above
+      them. Moreover, though William's face was red, his expression&mdash;cold,
+      and concentrated upon high matters&mdash;scorned the stranger, and warned
+      the lower classes that the mission of this bit of gentry was not to them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With but one sweeping and repellent glance over the canaille present, he
+      made sure that the person he sought was not in the waiting-room.
+      Therefore, he turned to the doors which gave admission to the tracks, but
+      before he went out he paused for an instant of displeasure. Hard by the
+      doors stood a telephone-booth, and from inside this booth a little girl of
+      nine or ten was peering eagerly out at William, her eyes just above the
+      lower level of the glass window in the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Even a prospect thus curtailed revealed her as a smudged and dusty little
+      girl; and, evidently, her mother must have been preoccupied with some
+      important affair that day; but to William she suggested nothing familiar.
+      As his glance happened to encounter hers, the peering eyes grew instantly
+      brighter with excitement;&mdash;she exposed her whole countenance at the
+      window, and impulsively made a face at him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      William had not the slightest recollection of ever having seen her before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He gave her one stern look and went on; though he felt that something
+      ought to be done. The affair was not a personal one&mdash;patently, this
+      was a child who played about the station and amused herself by making
+      faces at everybody who passed the telephone-booth&mdash;still, the
+      authorities ought not to allow it. People did not come to the station to
+      be insulted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Three seconds later the dusty-faced little girl and her moue were sped
+      utterly from William's mind. For, as the doors swung together behind him,
+      he saw Miss Pratt. There were no gates nor iron barriers to obscure the
+      view; there was no train-shed to darken the air. She was at some distance,
+      perhaps two hundred feet, along the tracks, where the sleeping-cars of the
+      long train would stop. But there she stood, mistakable for no other on
+      this wide earth!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There she stood&mdash;a glowing little figure in the hazy September
+      sunlight, her hair an amber mist under the adorable little hat; a small
+      bunch of violets at her waist; a larger bunch of fragrant but less
+      expensive sweet peas in her right hand; half a dozen pink roses in her
+      left; her little dog Flopit in the crook of one arm; and a one-pound box
+      of candy in the crook of the other&mdash;ineffable, radiant, starry, there
+      she stood!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Near her also stood her young hostess, and Wallace Banks, Johnnie Watson,
+      and Joe Bullitt&mdash;three young gentlemen in a condition of solemn
+      tensity. Miss Parcher saw William as he emerged from the station building,
+      and she waved her parasol in greeting, attracting the attention of the
+      others to him, so that they: all turned and stared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Seventeen sometimes finds it embarrassing (even in a state of deep
+      emotion) to walk two hundred feet, or thereabout, toward a group of people
+      who steadfastly watch the long approach. And when the watching group
+      contains the lady of all the world before whom one wishes to appear most
+      debonair, and contains not only her, but several rivals, who, though
+      FAIRLY good-hearted, might hardly be trusted to neglect such an
+      opportunity to murmur something jocular about one&mdash;No, it cannot be
+      said that William appeared to be wholly without self-consciousness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In fancy he had prophesied for this moment something utterly different. He
+      had seen himself parting from her, the two alone as within a cloud. He had
+      seen himself gently placing his box of candy in her hands, some of his
+      fingers just touching some of hers and remaining thus lightly in contact
+      to the very last. He had seen himself bending toward the sweet blonde head
+      to murmur the few last words of simple eloquence, while her eyes lifted in
+      mysterious appeal to his&mdash;and he had put no other figures, not even
+      Miss Parcher's, into this picture.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Parting is the most dramatic moment in young love, and if there is one
+      time when the lover wishes to present a lofty but graceful appearance it
+      is at the last. To leave with the loved one, for recollection, a final
+      picture of manly dignity in sorrow&mdash;that, above all things, is the
+      lover's desire. And yet, even at the beginning of William's
+      two-hundred-foot advance (later so much discussed) he felt the heat
+      surging over his ears, and, as he took off his hat, thinking to wave it
+      jauntily in reply to Miss Parcher, he made but an uncertain gesture of it,
+      so that he wished he had not tried it. Moreover, he had covered less than
+      a third of the distance, when he became aware that all of the group were
+      staring at him with unaccountable eagerness, and had begun to laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      William felt certain that his attire was in no way disordered, nor in
+      itself a cause for laughter;&mdash;all of these people had often seen him
+      dressed as he was to-day, and had preserved their gravity. But, in spite
+      of himself, he took off his hat again, and looked to see if anything about
+      it might explain this mirth, which, at his action, increased. Nay, the
+      laughter began to be shared by strangers; and some set down their
+      hand-luggage for greater pleasure in what they saw.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      William's inward state became chaotic.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He tried to smile carelessly, to prove his composure, but he found that he
+      had lost almost all control over his features. He had no knowledge of his
+      actual expression except that it hurt him. In desperation he fell back
+      upon hauteur; he managed to frown, and walked proudly. At that they
+      laughed the more, Wallace Banks rudely pointing again and again at
+      William; and not till the oncoming sufferer reached a spot within twenty
+      feet of these delighted people did he grasp the significance of Wallace's
+      repeated gesture of pointing. Even then he understood only when the
+      gesture was supplemented by half-articulate shouts:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Behind you! Look BEHIND you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The stung youth turned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There, directly behind him, he beheld an exclusive little procession
+      consisting of two damsels in single file, the first soiled with
+      house-moving, the second with apple sauce.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For greater caution they had removed their shoes; and each damsel, as she
+      paraded, dangled from each far-extended hand a shoe. And both damsels,
+      whether beneath apple sauce or dust smudge, were suffused with the rapture
+      of a great mockery.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They were walking with their stummicks out o' joint.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At sight of William's face they squealed. They turned and ran. They got
+      themselves out of sight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Simultaneously, the air filled with solid thunder and the pompous train
+      shook the ground. Ah, woe's the word! This was the thing that meant to
+      bear away the golden girl and honeysuckle of the world&mdash;meant to, and
+      would, not abating one iron second!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Now a porter had her hand-bag.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dear Heaven! to be a porter&mdash;yes, a colored one! What of that, NOW?
+      Just to be a simple porter, and journey with her to the far, strange pearl
+      among cities whence she had come!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The gentle porter bowed her toward the steps of his car; but first she
+      gave Flopit into the hands of May Parcher, for a moment, and whispered a
+      word to Wallace Banks; then to Joe Bullitt; then to Johnnie Watson;&mdash;then
+      she ran to William.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She took his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't forget!&rdquo; she whispered. &ldquo;Don't forget Lola!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He stood stock-still. His face was blank, his hand limp. He said nothing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She enfolded May Parcher, kissed her devotedly; then, with Flopit once
+      more under her arm, she ran and jumped upon the steps just as the train
+      began to move. She stood there, on the lowest step, slowly gliding away
+      from them, and in her eyes there was a sparkle of tears, left, it may be,
+      from her laughter at poor William's pageant with Jane and Rannie Kirsted&mdash;or,
+      it may be, not.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She could not wave to her friends, in answer to their gestures of
+      farewell, for her arms were too full of Flopit and roses and candy and
+      sweet peas; but she kept nodding to them in a way that showed them how
+      much she thanked them for being sorry she was going&mdash;and made it
+      clear that she was sorry, too, and loved them all.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good-by!&rdquo; she meant.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Faster she glided; the engine passed from sight round a curve beyond a
+      culvert, but for a moment longer they could see the little figure upon the
+      steps&mdash;and, to the very last glimpse they had of her, the small,
+      golden head was still nodding &ldquo;Good-by!&rdquo; Then those steps whereon she
+      stood passed in their turn beneath the culvert, and they saw her no more.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lola Pratt was gone!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Wet-eyed, her young hostess of the long summer turned away, and stumbled
+      against William. &ldquo;Why, Willie Baxter!&rdquo; she cried, blinking at him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The last car of the train had rounded the curve and disappeared, but
+      William was still waving farewell&mdash;not with his handkerchief, but
+      with a symmetrical, one-pound parcel, wrapped in white tissue-paper,
+      girdled with blue ribbon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never mind!&rdquo; said May Parcher. &ldquo;Let's all walk Up-town together, and talk
+      about her on the way, and we'll go by the express-office, and you can send
+      your candy to her by express, Willie.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0033" id="link2H_4_0033">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      XXX
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      THE BRIDE-TO-BE
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      In the smallish house which all summer long, from morning until late at
+      night, had resounded with the voices of young people, echoing their songs,
+      murmurous with their theories of love, or vibrating with their glee,
+      sometimes shaking all over during their more boisterous moods&mdash;in
+      that house, now comparatively so vacant, the proprietor stood and breathed
+      deep breaths.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hah!&rdquo; he said, inhaling and exhaling the air profoundly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His wife was upon the porch, outside, sewing. The silence was deep. He
+      seemed to listen to it&mdash;to listen with gusto; his face slowly
+      broadening, a pinkish tint overspreading it. His flaccid cheeks appeared
+      to fill, to grow firm again, a smile finally widening them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;HAH!&rdquo; he breathed, sonorously. He gave himself several resounding slaps
+      upon the chest, then went out to the porch and sat in a rocking-chair near
+      his wife. He spread himself out expansively. &ldquo;My Glory!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I
+      believe I'll take off my coat! I haven't had my coat off, outside of my
+      own room, all summer. I believe I'll take a vacation! By George, I believe
+      I'll stay home this afternoon!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's nice,&rdquo; said Mrs. Parcher.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hah!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;My Glory! I believe I'll take off my shoes!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And, meeting no objection, he proceeded to carry out this plan.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hah-AH!&rdquo; he said, and placed his stockinged feet upon the railing, where
+      a number of vines, running upon strings, made a screen between the porch
+      and the street. He lit a large cigar. &ldquo;Well, well!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;That tastes
+      good! If this keeps on, I'll be in as good shape as I was last spring
+      before you know it!&rdquo; Leaning far back in the rocking-chair, his hands
+      behind his head, he smoked with fervor; but suddenly he jumped in a way
+      which showed that his nerves were far from normal. His feet came to the
+      floor with a thump, he jerked the cigar out of his mouth, and turned a
+      face of consternation upon his wife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's the matter?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Suppose,&rdquo; said Mr. Patcher, huskily&mdash;&ldquo;suppose she missed her train.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Parcher shook her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Think not?&rdquo; he said, brightening. &ldquo;I ordered the livery-stable to have a
+      carriage here in lots of time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They did,&rdquo; said Mrs. Parcher, severely. &ldquo;About five dollars' worth.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I don't mind that,&rdquo; he returned, putting his feet up again. &ldquo;After
+      all, she was a mighty fine little girl in her way. The only trouble with
+      me was that crowd of boys;&mdash;having to listen to them certainly liked
+      to killed me, and I believe if she'd stayed just one more day I'd been a
+      goner! Of all the dam boys I ever&mdash;&rdquo; He paused, listening.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Parcher!&rdquo; a youthful voice repeated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He rose, and, separating two of the vines which screened the end of the
+      porch from the street, looked out. Two small maidens had paused upon the
+      sidewalk, and were peering over the picket fence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Parcher,&rdquo; said Jane, as soon as his head appeared between the vines&mdash;&ldquo;Mr.
+      Parcher, Miss Pratt's gone. She's gone away on the cars.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You think so?&rdquo; he asked, gravely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We saw her,&rdquo; said Jane. &ldquo;Rannie an' I were there. Willie was goin' to
+      chase us, I guess, but we went in the baggage-room behind trunks, an' we
+      saw her go. She got on the cars, an' it went with her in it. Honest, she's
+      gone away, Mr. Parcher.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Before speaking, Mr. Parcher took a long look at this telepathic child. In
+      his fond eyes she was a marvel and a darling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well&mdash;THANK you, Jane!&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane, however, had turned her head and was staring at the corner, which
+      was out of his sight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oo-oo-ooh!&rdquo; she murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's the trouble, Jane?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Willie!&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;It's Willie an' that Joe Bullitt, an' Johnnie Watson,
+      an' Mr. Wallace Banks. They're with Miss May Parcher. They're comin' right
+      here!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Parcher gave forth a low moan, and turned pathetically to his wife,
+      but she cheered him with a laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They've only walked up from the station with May,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;They won't
+      come in. You'll see!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Relieved, Mr. Parcher turned again to speak to Jane&mdash;but she was not
+      there. He caught but a glimpse of her, running up the street as fast as
+      she could, hand in hand with her companion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Run, Rannie, run!&rdquo; panted Jane. &ldquo;I got to get home an' tell mamma about
+      it before Willie. I bet I ketch Hail Columbia, anyway, when he does get
+      there!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And in this she was not mistaken: she caught Hail Columbia. It lasted all
+      afternoon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was still continuing after dinner. Thatt evening, when an oft-repeated
+      yodel, followed by a shrill-wailed, &ldquo;Jane-ee! Oh, Jane-NEE-ee!&rdquo; brought
+      her to an open window down-stairs. In the early dusk she looked out upon
+      the washed face of Rannie Kirsted, who stood on the lawn below.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come on out, Janie. Mamma says I can stay outdoors an' play till half
+      past eight.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane shook her head. &ldquo;I can't. I can't go outside the house till
+      to-morrow. It's because we walked after Willie with our stummicks out o'
+      joint.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pshaw!&rdquo; Rannie cried, lightly. &ldquo;My mother didn't do anything to me for
+      that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, nobody told her on you,&rdquo; said Jane, reasonably.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can't you come out at all?&rdquo; Rannie urged. &ldquo;Go ask your mother. Tell her&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How can I,&rdquo; Jane inquired, with a little heat, &ldquo;when she isn't here to
+      ask? She's gone out to play cards&mdash;she and papa.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rannie swung her foot. &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I guess I haf to find SOMEp'n to
+      do! G' night!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With head bowed in thought she moved away, disappearing into the gray
+      dusk, while Jane, on her part, left the window and went to the open front
+      door. Conscientiously, she did not cross the threshold, but restrained
+      herself to looking out. On the steps of the porch sat William, alone, his
+      back toward the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Willie?&rdquo; said Jane, softly; and, as he made no response, she lifted her
+      voice a little. &ldquo;Will-ee!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whatchwant!&rdquo; he grunted, not moving.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Willie, I told mamma I was sorry I made you feel so bad.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right!&rdquo; he returned, curtly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, when I haf to go to bed, Willie,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;mamma told me because
+      I made you feel bad I haf to go up-stairs by myself, to-night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She paused, seeming to hope that he would say something, but he spake not.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Willie, I don't haf to go for a while yet, but when I do&mdash;maybe in
+      about a half an hour&mdash;I wish you'd come stand at the foot of the
+      stairs till I get up there. The light's lit up-stairs, but down around
+      here it's kind of dark.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He did not answer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you, Willie?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, all RIGHT!&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This contented her, and she seated herself so quietly upon the floor, just
+      inside the door, that he ceased to be aware of her, thinking she had gone
+      away. He sat staring vacantly into the darkness, which had come on with
+      that abruptness which begins to be noticeable in September. His elbows
+      were on his knees, and his body was sunk far forward in an attitude of
+      desolation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The small noises of the town&mdash;that town so empty to-night&mdash;fell
+      upon his ears mockingly. It seemed to him incredible that so hollow a town
+      could go about its nightly affairs just as usual. A man and a woman, going
+      by, laughed loudly at something the man had said: the sound of their
+      laughter was horrid to William. And from a great distance from far out in
+      the country&mdash;there came the faint, long-drawn whistle of an engine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      That was the sorrowfulest sound of all to William. His lonely mind's eye
+      sought the vasty spaces to the east; crossed prairie, and river, and hill,
+      to where a long train whizzed onward through the dark&mdash;farther and
+      farther and farther away. William uttered a sigh, so hoarse, so deep from
+      the tombs, so prolonged, that Jane, who had been relaxing herself at full
+      length upon the floor, sat up straight with a jerk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But she was wise enough not to speak.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Now the full moon came masquerading among the branches of the shade-trees;
+      it came in the likeness of an enormous football, gloriously orange.
+      Gorgeously it rose higher, cleared the trees, and resumed its wonted
+      impersonation of a silver disk. Here was another mockery: What was the use
+      of a moon NOW?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Its use appeared straightway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In direct coincidence with that rising moon, there came from a little
+      distance down the street the sound of a young male voice, singing. It was
+      not a musical voice, yet sufficiently loud; and it knew only a portion of
+      the words and air it sought to render, but, upon completing the portion it
+      did know, it instantly began again, and sang that portion over and over
+      with brightest patience. So the voice approached the residence of the
+      Baxter family, singing what the shades of night gave courage to sing&mdash;instead
+      of whistle, as in the abashing sunlight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thus:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My countree, 'tis of thee, Sweet land of liber-tee, My countree, 'tis of
+      thee, Sweet land of liber-tee, My countree, 'tis of thee, Sweet land of
+      liber-tee, My countree, 'tis of thee, Sweet land of liber-tee, My
+      countree, 'tis&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jane spoke unconsciously. &ldquo;It's Freddie,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      William leaped to his feet; this was something he could NOT bear! He made
+      a bloodthirsty dash toward the gate, which the singer was just in the act
+      of passing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You GET OUT O' HERE!&rdquo; William roared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The song stopped. Freddie Banks fled like a rag on the wind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      ... Now here is a strange matter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The antique prophets prophesied successfully; they practised with some
+      ease that art since lost but partly rediscovered by M. Maeterlinck, who
+      proves to us that the future already exists, simultaneously with the
+      present. Well, if his proofs be true, then at this very moment when
+      William thought menacingly of Freddie Banks, the bright air of a happy
+      June evening&mdash;an evening ordinarily reckoned ten years, nine months
+      and twenty-one days in advance of this present sorrowful evening&mdash;the
+      bright air of that happy June evening, so far in the future, was actually
+      already trembling to a wedding-march played upon a church organ; and this
+      selfsame Freddie, with a white flower in his buttonhole, and in every
+      detail accoutred as a wedding usher, was an usher for this very William
+      who now (as we ordinarily count time) threatened his person.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But for more miracles:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As William turned again to resume his meditations upon the steps, his
+      incredulous eyes fell upon a performance amazingly beyond fantasy, and
+      without parallel as a means to make scorn of him. Not ten feet from the
+      porch&mdash;and in the white moonlight that made brilliant the path to the
+      gate&mdash;Miss Mary Randolph Kirsted was walking. She was walking with
+      insulting pomposity in her most pronounced semicircular manner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;YOU GET OUT O' HERE!&rdquo; she said, in a voice as deep and hoarse as she
+      could make it. &ldquo;YOU GET OUT O' HERE!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her intention was as plain as the moon. She was presenting in her own
+      person a sketch of William, by this means expressing her opinion of him
+      and avenging Jane.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;YOU GET OUT O' HERE!&rdquo; she croaked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The shocking audacity took William's breath. He gasped; he sought for
+      words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, you&mdash;you&mdash;&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;You&mdash;you sooty-faced little
+      girl!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In this fashion he directly addressed Miss Mary Randolph Kirsted for the
+      first time in his life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And that was the strangest thing of this strange evening. Strangest
+      because, as with life itself, there was nothing remarkable upon the
+      surface of it. But if M. Maeterlinck has the right of the matter, and if
+      the bright air of that June evening, almost eleven years in the so-called
+      future, was indeed already trembling to &ldquo;Lohengrin,&rdquo; then William stood
+      with Johnnie Watson against a great bank of flowers at the foot of a
+      church aisle; that aisle was roped with white-satin ribbons; and William
+      and Johnnie were waiting for something important to happen. And then, to
+      the strains of &ldquo;Here Comes the Bride,&rdquo; it did&mdash;a stately, solemn,
+      roseate, gentle young thing with bright eyes seeking through a veil for
+      William's eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Yes, if great M. Maeterlinck is right, it seems that William ought to have
+      caught at least some eerie echo of that wedding-march, however faint&mdash;some
+      bars or strains adrift before their time upon the moonlight of this
+      September night in his eighteenth year.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For there, beyond the possibility of any fate to intervene, or of any
+      later vague, fragmentary memory of even Miss Pratt to impair, there in
+      that moonlight was his future before him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He started forward furiously. &ldquo;You&mdash;you&mdash;you little&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But he paused, not wasting his breath upon the empty air.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His bride-to-be was gone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Seventeen, by Booth Tarkington
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SEVENTEEN ***
+
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+</pre>
+  </body>
+</html>
diff --git a/1611.txt b/1611.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..49936eb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/1611.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,8519 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Seventeen, by Booth Tarkington
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Seventeen
+       A Tale Of Youth And Summer Time And The Baxter Family Especially William
+
+Author: Booth Tarkington
+
+Release Date: February 21, 2006 [EBook #1611]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SEVENTEEN ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Charles Keller and David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+SEVENTEEN
+
+
+
+A TALE OF YOUTH AND
+
+SUMMER TIME AND
+
+THE BAXTER FAMILY
+
+ESPECIALLY WILLIAM
+
+
+By Booth Tarkington
+
+
+
+
+SEVENTEEN
+
+
+
+
+TO S.K.T.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+     I.      WILLIAM
+     II.     THE UNKNOWN
+     III.    THE PAINFUL AGE
+     IV.     GENESIS AND CLEMATIS
+     V.      SORROWS WITHIN A BOILER
+     VI.     TRUCULENCE
+     VII.    MR. BAXTER'S EVENING CLOTHES
+     VIII.   JANE
+     IX.     LITTLE SISTERS HAVE BIG EARS
+     X.      MR. PARCHER AND LOVE
+     XI.     BEGINNING A TRUE FRIENDSHIP
+     XII.    PROGRESS OF THE SYMPTOMS
+     XIII.   AT HOME TO HIS FRIENDS
+     XIV.    TIME DOES FLY
+     XV.     ROMANCE OF STATISTICS
+     XVI.    THE SHOWER
+     XVII.   JANE'S THEORY
+     XVIII.  THE BIG, FAT LUMMOX
+     XIX.    "I DUNNO WHY IT IS"
+     XX.     SYDNEY CARTON
+     XXI.    MY LITTLE SWEETHEARTS
+     XXII.   FORESHADOWINGS
+     XXIII.  FATHERS FORGET
+     XXIV.   CLOTHES MAKE THE MAN
+     XXV.    YOUTH AND MR. PARCHER
+     XXVI.   MISS BOKE
+     XXVII.  MAROONED
+     XXVIII. RANNIE KIRSTED
+     XXIX.   ''DON'T FORGET!''
+     XXX.     THE BRIDE-TO-BE
+
+
+
+
+SEVENTEEN
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+WILLIAM
+
+William Sylvanus Baxter paused for a moment of thought in front of the
+drug-store at the corner of Washington Street and Central Avenue. He had
+an internal question to settle before he entered the store: he wished
+to allow the young man at the soda-fountain no excuse for saying, "Well,
+make up your mind what it's goin' to be, can't you?" Rudeness of this
+kind, especially in the presence of girls and women, was hard to bear,
+and though William Sylvanus Baxter had borne it upon occasion, he
+had reached an age when he found it intolerable. Therefore, to avoid
+offering opportunity for anything of the kind, he decided upon chocolate
+and strawberry, mixed, before approaching the fountain. Once there,
+however, and a large glass of these flavors and diluted ice-cream
+proving merely provocative, he said, languidly--an affectation, for he
+could have disposed of half a dozen with gusto: "Well, now I'm here, I
+might as well go one more. Fill 'er up again. Same."
+
+Emerging to the street, penniless, he bent a fascinated and dramatic
+gaze upon his reflection in the drug-store window, and then, as he
+turned his back upon the alluring image, his expression altered to
+one of lofty and uncondescending amusement. That was his glance at the
+passing public. From the heights, he seemed to bestow upon the world
+a mysterious derision--for William Sylvanus Baxter was seventeen long
+years of age, and had learned to present the appearance of one who
+possesses inside information about life and knows all strangers and most
+acquaintances to be of inferior caste, costume, and intelligence.
+
+He lingered upon the corner awhile, not pressed for time. Indeed, he
+found many hours of these summer months heavy upon his hands, for he had
+no important occupation, unless some intermittent dalliance with a
+work on geometry (anticipatory of the distant autumn) might be thought
+important, which is doubtful, since he usually went to sleep on the
+shady side porch at his home, with the book in his hand. So, having
+nothing to call him elsewhere, he lounged before the drug-store in the
+early afternoon sunshine, watching the passing to and fro of the lower
+orders and bourgeoisie of the middle-sized midland city which claimed
+him (so to speak) for a native son.
+
+Apparently quite unembarrassed by his presence, they went about their
+business, and the only people who looked at him with any attention were
+pedestrians of color. It is true that when the gaze of these fell upon
+him it was instantly arrested, for no colored person could have passed
+him without a little pang of pleasure and of longing. Indeed, the
+tropical violence of William Sylvanus Baxter's tie and the strange
+brilliancy of his hat might have made it positively unsafe for him to
+walk at night through the negro quarter of the town. And though no man
+could have sworn to the color of that hat, whether it was blue or green,
+yet its color was a saner thing than its shape, which was blurred,
+tortured, and raffish; it might have been the miniature model of a
+volcano that had blown off its cone and misbehaved disastrously on its
+lower slopes as well. He had the air of wearing it as a matter of course
+and with careless ease, but that was only an air--it was the apple of
+his eye.
+
+For the rest, his costume was neutral, subordinate, and even a little
+neglected in the matter of a detail or two: one pointed flap of his soft
+collar was held down by a button, but the other showed a frayed thread
+where the button once had been; his low patent-leather shoes were of a
+luster not solicitously cherished, and there could be no doubt that he
+needed to get his hair cut, while something might have been done, too,
+about the individualized hirsute prophecies which had made independent
+appearances, here and there, upon his chin. He examined these from time
+to time by the sense of touch, passing his hand across his face and
+allowing his finger-tips a slight tapping motion wherever they detected
+a prophecy.
+
+Thus he fell into a pleasant musing and seemed to forget the crowded
+street.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+THE UNKNOWN
+
+He was roused by the bluff greeting of an acquaintance not dissimilar to
+himself in age, manner, and apparel.
+
+"H'lo, Silly Bill!" said this person, halting beside William Sylvanus
+Baxter. "What's the news?"
+
+William showed no enthusiasm; on the contrary, a frown of annoyance
+appeared upon his brow. The nickname "Silly Bill"--long ago compounded
+by merry child-comrades from "William" and "Sylvanus"--was not to his
+taste, especially in public, where he preferred to be addressed simply
+and manfully as "Baxter." Any direct expression of resentment, however,
+was difficult, since it was plain that Johnnie Watson intended no
+offense whatever and but spoke out of custom.
+
+"Don't know any," William replied, coldly.
+
+"Dull times, ain't it?" said Mr. Watson, a little depressed by his
+friend's manner. "I heard May Parcher was comin' back to town yesterday,
+though."
+
+"Well, let her!" returned William, still severe.
+
+"They said she was goin' to bring a girl to visit her," Johnnie began in
+a confidential tone. "They said she was a reg'lar ringdinger and--"
+
+"Well, what if she is?" the discouraging Mr. Baxter interrupted. "Makes
+little difference to ME, I guess!"
+
+"Oh no, it don't. YOU don't take any interest in girls! OH no!"
+
+"No, I do not!" was the emphatic and heartless retort. "I never saw one
+in my life I'd care whether she lived or died!"
+
+"Honest?" asked Johnnie, struck by the conviction with which this speech
+was uttered. "Honest, is that so?"
+
+"Yes, 'honest'!" William replied, sharply. "They could ALL die, _I_
+wouldn't notice!"
+
+Johnnie Watson was profoundly impressed. "Why, _I_ didn't know you felt
+that way about 'em, Silly Bill. I always thought you were kind of--"
+
+"Well, I do feel that way about 'em!" said William Sylvanus Baxter, and,
+outraged by the repetition of the offensive nickname, he began to move
+away. "You can tell 'em so for me, if you want to!" he added over his
+shoulder. And he walked haughtily up the street, leaving Mr. Watson to
+ponder upon this case of misogyny, never until that moment suspected.
+
+It was beyond the power of his mind to grasp the fact that William
+Sylvanus Baxter's cruel words about "girls" had been uttered because
+William was annoyed at being called "Silly Bill" in a public place, and
+had not known how to object otherwise than by showing contempt for any
+topic of conversation proposed by the offender. This latter, being of
+a disposition to accept statements as facts, was warmly interested,
+instead of being hurt, and decided that here was something worth talking
+about, especially with representatives of the class so sweepingly
+excluded from the sympathies of Silly Bill.
+
+William, meanwhile, made his way toward the "residence section" of the
+town, and presently--with the passage of time found himself eased of his
+annoyance. He walked in his own manner, using his shoulders to emphasize
+an effect of carelessness which he wished to produce upon observers. For
+his consciousness of observers was abnormal, since he had it whether any
+one was looking at him or not, and it reached a crucial stage whenever
+he perceived persons of his own age, but of opposite sex, approaching.
+
+A person of this description was encountered upon the sidewalk within a
+hundred yards of his own home, and William Sylvanus Baxter saw her while
+yet she was afar off. The quiet and shady thoroughfare was empty of all
+human life, at the time, save for those two; and she was upon the same
+side of the street that he was; thus it became inevitable that they
+should meet, face to face, for the first time in their lives. He
+had perceived, even in the distance, that she was unknown to him, a
+stranger, because he knew all the girls in this part of the town who
+dressed as famously in the mode as that! And then, as the distance
+between them lessened, he saw that she was ravishingly pretty; far, far
+prettier, indeed, than any girl he knew. At least it seemed so, for it
+is, unfortunately, much easier for strangers to be beautiful. Aside
+from this advantage of mystery, the approaching vision was piquant and
+graceful enough to have reminded a much older boy of a spotless white
+kitten, for, in spite of a charmingly managed demureness, there was
+precisely that kind of playfulness somewhere expressed about her. Just
+now it was most definite in the look she bent upon the light and fluffy
+burden which she carried nestled in the inner curve of her right arm:
+a tiny dog with hair like cotton and a pink ribbon round his neck--an
+animal sated with indulgence and idiotically unaware of his privilege.
+He was half asleep!
+
+William did not see the dog, or it is the plain, anatomical truth
+that when he saw how pretty the girl was, his heart--his physical
+heart--began to do things the like of which, experienced by an elderly
+person, would have brought the doctor in haste. In addition, his
+complexion altered--he broke out in fiery patches. He suffered from
+breathlessness and from pressure on the diaphragm.
+
+Afterward, he could not have named the color of the little parasol she
+carried in her left hand, and yet, as it drew nearer and nearer, a rosy
+haze suffused the neighborhood, and the whole world began to turn an
+exquisite pink. Beneath this gentle glow, with eyes downcast in thought,
+she apparently took no note of William, even when she and William had
+come within a few yards of each other. Yet he knew that she would look
+up and that their eyes must meet--a thing for which he endeavored to
+prepare himself by a strange weaving motion of his neck against the
+friction of his collar--for thus, instinctively, he strove to obtain
+greater ease and some decent appearance of manly indifference. He felt
+that his efforts were a failure; that his agitation was ruinous and
+must be perceptible at a distance of miles, not feet. And then, in
+the instant of panic that befell, when her dark-lashed eyelids slowly
+lifted, he had a flash of inspiration.
+
+He opened his mouth somewhat, and as her eyes met his, full and
+startlingly, he placed three fingers across the orifice, and also
+offered a slight vocal proof that she had surprised him in the midst of
+a yawn.
+
+"Oh, hum!" he said.
+
+For the fraction of a second, the deep blue spark in her eyes glowed
+brighter--gentle arrows of turquoise shot him through and through--and
+then her glance withdrew from the ineffable collision. Her small,
+white-shod feet continued to bear her onward, away from him, while
+his own dimmed shoes peregrinated in the opposite direction--William
+necessarily, yet with excruciating reluctance, accompanying them. But
+just at the moment when he and the lovely creature were side by side,
+and her head turned from him, she spoke that is, she murmured, but he
+caught the words.
+
+"You Flopit, wake up!" she said, in the tone of a mother talking
+baby-talk. "SO indifferink!"
+
+William's feet and his breath halted spasmodically. For an instant he
+thought she had spoken to him, and then for the first time he perceived
+the fluffy head of the dog bobbing languidly over her arm, with the
+motion of her walking, and he comprehended that Flopit, and not William
+Sylvanus Baxter, was the gentleman addressed. But--but had she MEANT
+him?
+
+His breath returning, though not yet operating in its usual manner,
+he stood gazing after her, while the glamorous parasol passed down the
+shady street, catching splashes of sunshine through the branches of
+the maple-trees; and the cottony head of the tiny dog continued to be
+visible, bobbing rhythmically over a filmy sleeve. Had she meant that
+William was indifferent? Was it William that she really addressed?
+
+He took two steps to follow her, but a suffocating shyness stopped him
+abruptly and, in a horror lest she should glance round and detect him
+in the act, he turned and strode fiercely to the gate of his own home
+before he dared to look again. And when he did look, affecting great
+casualness in the action, she was gone, evidently having turned the
+corner. Yet the street did not seem quite empty; there was still
+something warm and fragrant about it, and a rosy glamor lingered in
+the air. William rested an elbow upon the gate-post, and with his chin
+reposing in his hand gazed long in the direction in which the unknown
+had vanished. And his soul was tremulous, for she had done her work but
+too well.
+
+"'Indifferink'!" he murmured, thrilling at his own exceedingly
+indifferent imitation of her voice. "Indifferink!" that was just what he
+would have her think--that he was a cold, indifferent man. It was what
+he wished all girls to think. And "sarcastic"! He had been envious one
+day when May Parcher said that Joe Bullitt was "awfully sarcastic."
+William had spent the ensuing hour in an object-lesson intended to make
+Miss Parcher see that William Sylvanus Baxter was twice as sarcastic
+as Joe Bullitt ever thought of being, but this great effort had been
+unsuccessful, because William, failed to understand that Miss Parcher
+had only been sending a sort of message to Mr. Bullitt. It was a device
+not unique among her sex; her hope was that William would repeat her
+remark in such a manner that Joe Bullitt would hear it and call to
+inquire what she meant.
+
+"'SO indifferink'!" murmured William, leaning dreamily upon the
+gate-post. "Indifferink!" He tried to get the exact cooing quality of
+the unknown's voice. "Indifferink!" And, repeating the honeyed word, so
+entrancingly distorted, he fell into a kind of stupor; vague, beautiful
+pictures rising before him, the one least blurred being of himself, on
+horseback, sweeping between Flopit and a racing automobile. And
+then, having restored the little animal to its mistress, William
+sat carelessly in the saddle (he had the Guardsman's seat) while the
+perfectly trained steed wheeled about, forelegs in the air, preparing
+to go. "But shall I not see you again, to thank you more properly?" she
+cried, pleading. "Some other day--perhaps," he answered.
+
+And left her in a cloud of dust.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+THE PAINFUL AGE
+
+"OH WILL--EE!"
+
+Thus a shrill voice, to his ears hideously different from that other,
+interrupted and dispersed his visions. Little Jane, his ten-year-old
+sister, stood upon the front porch, the door open behind her, and in her
+hand she held a large slab of bread-and-butter covered with apple sauce
+and powdered sugar. Evidence that she had sampled this compound was upon
+her cheeks, and to her brother she was a repulsive sight.
+
+"Will-ee!" she shrilled. "Look! GOOD!" And to emphasize the adjective
+she indelicately patted the region of her body in which she believed
+her stomach to be located. "There's a slice for you on the dining-room
+table," she informed him, joyously.
+
+Outraged, he entered the house without a word to her, and, proceeding
+to the dining-room, laid hands upon the slice she had mentioned, but
+declined to eat it in Jane's company. He was in an exalted mood, and
+though in no condition of mind or body would he refuse food of almost
+any kind, Jane was an intrusion he could not suffer at this time.
+
+He carried the refection to his own room and, locking the door, sat down
+to eat, while, even as he ate, the spell that was upon him deepened in
+intensity.
+
+"Oh, eyes!" he whispered, softly, in that cool privacy and shelter from
+the world. "Oh, eyes of blue!"
+
+The mirror of a dressing-table sent him the reflection of his own eyes,
+which also were blue; and he gazed upon them and upon the rest of his
+image the while he ate his bread-and-butter and apple sauce and sugar.
+Thus, watching himself eat, he continued to stare dreamily at the mirror
+until the bread-and-butter and apple sauce and sugar had disappeared,
+whereupon he rose and approached the dressing-table to study himself at
+greater advantage.
+
+He assumed as repulsive an expression as he could command, at the same
+time making the kingly gesture of one who repels unwelcome attentions;
+and it is beyond doubt that he was thus acting a little scene of
+indifference. Other symbolic dramas followed, though an invisible
+observer might have been puzzled for a key to some of them. One,
+however, would have proved easily intelligible: his expression having
+altered to a look of pity and contrition, he turned from the mirror,
+and, walking slowly to a chair across the room, used his right hand in
+a peculiar manner, seeming to stroke the air at a point about ten inches
+above the back of the chair. "There, there, little girl," he said in a
+low, gentle voice. "I didn't know you cared!"
+
+Then, with a rather abrupt dismissal of this theme, he returned to the
+mirror and, after a questioning scrutiny, nodded solemnly, forming with
+his lips the words, "The real thing--the real thing at last!" He
+meant that, after many imitations had imposed upon him, Love--the real
+thing--had come to him in the end. And as he turned away he murmured,
+"And even her name--unknown!"
+
+This evidently was a thought that continued to occupy him, for he walked
+up and down the room, frowning; but suddenly his brow cleared and his
+eye lit with purpose. Seating himself at a small writing-table by
+the window, he proceeded to express his personality--though with
+considerable labor--in something which he did not doubt to be a poem.
+
+Three-quarters of an hour having sufficed for its completion, including
+"rewriting and polish," he solemnly signed it, and then read it several
+times in a state of hushed astonishment. He had never dreamed that he
+could do anything like this.
+
+                    MILADY
+          I do not know her name
+          Though it would be the same
+          Where roses bloom at twilight
+          And the lark takes his flight
+          It would be the same anywhere
+          Where music sounds in air
+          I was never introduced to the lady
+          So I could not call her Lass or Sadie
+          So I will call her Milady
+          By the sands of the sea
+          She always will be
+          Just M'lady to me.
+                         --WILLIAM SYLVANUS BAXTER, Esq., July 14
+
+It is impossible to say how many times he might have read the poem over,
+always with increasing amazement at his new-found powers, had he not
+been interrupted by the odious voice of Jane.
+
+"Will--ee!"
+
+To William, in his high and lonely mood, this piercing summons brought
+an actual shudder, and the very thought of Jane (with tokens of apple
+sauce and sugar still upon her cheek, probably) seemed a kind of
+sacrilege. He fiercely swore his favorite oath, acquired from the hero
+of a work of fiction he admired, "Ye gods!" and concealed his poem in
+the drawer of the writing-table, for Jane's footsteps were approaching
+his door.
+
+"Will--ee! Mamma wants you." She tried the handle of the door.
+
+"G'way!" he said.
+
+"Will--ee!" Jane hammered upon the door with her fist. "Will--ee!"
+
+"What you want?" he shouted.
+
+Jane explained, certain pauses indicating that her attention was
+partially diverted to another slice of bread-and-butter and apple sauce
+and sugar. "Will--ee, mamma wants you--wants you to go help Genesis
+bring some wash-tubs home and a tin clo'es-boiler--from the second-hand
+man's store."
+
+"WHAT!"
+
+Jane repeated the outrageous message, adding, "She wants you to
+hurry--and I got some more bread-and-butter and apple sauce and sugar
+for comin' to tell you."
+
+William left no doubt in Jane's mind about his attitude in reference
+to the whole matter. His refusal was direct and infuriated, but, in the
+midst of a multitude of plain statements which he was making, there
+was a decisive tapping upon the door at a point higher than Jane could
+reach, and his mother's voice interrupted:
+
+"Hush, Willie! Open the door, please."
+
+He obeyed furiously, and Mrs. Baxter walked in with a deprecating air,
+while Jane followed, so profoundly interested that, until almost the
+close of the interview, she held her bread-and-butter and apple sauce
+and sugar at a sort of way-station on its journey to her mouth.
+
+"That's a nice thing to ask me to do!" stormed the unfortunate William.
+"Ye gods! Do you think Joe Bullitt's mother would dare to--"
+
+"Wait, dearie!" Mrs. Baxter begged, pacifically. "I just want to
+explain--"
+
+"'Explain'! Ye gods!"
+
+"Now, now, just a minute, Willie!" she said. "What I wanted to explain
+was why it's necessary for you to go with Genesis for the--"
+
+"Never!" he shouted. "Never! You expect me to walk through the public
+streets with that awful-lookin' old nigger--"
+
+"Genesis isn't old," she managed to interpolate. "He--"
+
+But her frantic son disregarded her. "Second-hand wash-tubs!" he
+vociferated. "And tin clothes-boilers! THAT'S what you want your SON to
+carry through the public streets in broad daylight! Ye gods!"
+
+"Well, there isn't anybody else," she said. "Please don't rave so,
+Willie, and say 'Ye gods' so much; it really isn't nice. I'm sure nobody
+'ll notice you--"
+
+"'Nobody'!" His voice cracked in anguish. "Oh no! Nobody except the
+whole town! WHY, when there's anything disgusting has to be done
+in this family--why do _I_ always have to be the one? Why can't Genesis
+bring the second-hand wash-tubs without ME? Why can't the second-hand
+store deliver 'em? Why can't--"
+
+"That's what I want to tell you," she interposed, hurriedly, and as the
+youth lifted his arms on high in a gesture of ultimate despair, and
+then threw himself miserably into a chair, she obtained the floor. "The
+second-hand store doesn't deliver things," she said. "I bought them at
+an auction, and it's going out of business, and they have to be taken
+away before half past four this afternoon. Genesis can't bring them in
+the wheelbarrow, because, he says, the wheel is broken, and he says he
+can't possibly carry two tubs and a wash-boiler himself; and he can't
+make two trips because it's a mile and a half, and I don't like to ask
+him, anyway; and it would take too long, because he has to get back and
+finish cutting the grass before your papa gets home this evening. Papa
+said he HAD to! Now, I don't like to ask you, but it really isn't much.
+You and Genesis can just slip up there and--"
+
+"Slip!" moaned William. "'Just SLIP up there'! Ye gods!"
+
+"Genesis is waiting on the back porch," she said. "Really it isn't worth
+your making all this fuss about."
+
+"Oh no!" he returned, with plaintive satire. "It's nothing! Nothing at
+all!"
+
+"Why, _I_ shouldn't mind it," she said; briskly, "if I had the time. In
+fact, I'll have to, if you won't."
+
+"Ye gods!" He clasped his head in his hands, crushed, for he knew that
+the curse was upon him and he must go. "Ye gods!"
+
+And then, as he stamped to the door, his tragic eye fell upon Jane, and
+he emitted a final cry of pain:
+
+"Can't you EVER wash your face?" he shouted.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+GENESIS AND CLEMATIS
+
+Genesis and his dog were waiting just outside the kitchen door, and
+of all the world these two creatures were probably the last in whose
+company William Sylvanus Baxter desired to make a public appearance.
+Genesis was an out-of-doors man and seldom made much of a toilet; his
+overalls in particular betraying at important points a lack of the
+anxiety he should have felt, since only Genesis himself, instead of
+a supplementary fabric, was directly underneath them. And the aged,
+grayish, sleeveless and neckless garment which sheltered him from waist
+to collar-bone could not have been mistaken for a jersey, even though
+what there was of it was dimly of a jerseyesque character. Upon the feet
+of Genesis were things which careful study would have revealed to be
+patent-leather dancing-pumps, long dead and several times buried;
+and upon his head, pressing down his markedly criminal ears, was a
+once-derby hat of a brown not far from Genesis's own color, though
+decidedly without his gloss. A large ring of strange metals with the
+stone missing, adorned a finger of his right hand, and from a corner of
+his mouth projected an unlighted and spreading cigar stub which had the
+appearance of belonging to its present owner merely by right of salvage.
+
+And Genesis's dog, scratching himself at his master's feet, was the true
+complement of Genesis, for although he was a youngish dog, and had not
+long been the property of Genesis, he was a dog that would have been
+recognized anywhere in the world as a colored person's dog. He was not a
+special breed of dog--though there was something rather houndlike about
+him--he was just a dog. His expression was grateful but anxious, and he
+was unusually bald upon the bosom, but otherwise whitish and brownish,
+with a gaunt, haunting face and no power to look anybody in the eye.
+
+He rose apprehensively as the fuming William came out of the kitchen,
+but he was prepared to follow his master faithfully, and when William
+and Genesis reached the street the dog was discovered at their heels,
+whereupon William came to a decisive halt.
+
+"Send that dog back," he said, resolutely. "I'm not going through the
+streets with a dog like that, anyhow!"
+
+Genesis chuckled. "He ain' goin' back," he said. "'Ain' nobody kin
+make 'at dog go back. I 'ain' had him mo'n two weeks, but I don' b'lieve
+Pres'dent United States kin make 'at dog go back! I show you." And,
+wheeling suddenly, he made ferocious gestures, shouting. "G'on back,
+dog!"
+
+The dog turned, ran back a few paces, halted, and then began to follow
+again, whereupon Genesis pretended to hurl stones at him; but the animal
+only repeated his manoeuver--and he repeated it once more when William
+aided Genesis by using actual missiles, which were dodged with almost
+careless adeptness.
+
+"I'll show him!" said William, hotly. "I'll show him he can't follow
+ME!" He charged upon the dog, shouting fiercely, and this seemed to do
+the work, for the hunted animal, abandoning his partial flights, turned
+a tucked-under tail, ran all the way back to the alley, and disappeared
+from sight. "There!" said William. "I guess that 'll show him!"
+
+"I ain' bettin' on it!" said Genesis, as they went on. "He nev' did
+stop foll'in' me yet. I reckon he the foll'indest dog in the worl'! Name
+Clem."
+
+"Well, he can't follow ME!" said the surging William, in whose mind's
+eye lingered the vision of an exquisite doglet, with pink-ribboned
+throat and a cottony head bobbing gently over a filmy sleeve. "He
+doesn't come within a mile of ME, no matter what his name is!"
+
+"Name Clem fer short," said Genesis, amiably. "I trade in a mandoline
+fer him what had her neck kind o' busted off on one side. I couldn' play
+her nohow, an' I found her, anyways. Yes-suh, I trade in 'at mandoline
+fer him 'cause always did like to have me a good dog--but I d'in' have
+me no name fer him; an' this here Blooie Bowers, what I trade in the
+mandoline to, he say HE d'in have no name fer him. Say nev' did know if
+WAS a name fer him 'tall. So I'z spen' the evenin' at 'at lady's house,
+Fanny, what used to be cook fer Miz Johnson, nex' do' you' maw's; an'
+I ast Fanny what am I go'n' a do about it, an' Fanny say, 'Call him
+Clematis,' she say. ''At's a nice name!' she say. 'Clematis.' So 'at's
+name I name him, Clematis. Call him Clem fer short, but Clematis his
+real name. He'll come, whichever one you call him, Clem or Clematis.
+Make no diff'ence to him, long's he git his vittles. Clem or Clematis,
+HE ain' carin'!"
+
+William's ear was deaf to this account of the naming of Clematis; he
+walked haughtily, but as rapidly as possible, trying to keep a little in
+advance of his talkative companion, who had never received the training
+as a servitor which should have taught him his proper distance from the
+Young Master. William's suffering eyes were fixed upon remoteness; and
+his lips moved, now and then, like a martyr's, pronouncing inaudibly a
+sacred word. "Milady! Oh, Milady!"
+
+Thus they had covered some three blocks of their journey--the
+too-democratic Genesis chatting companionably and William burning with
+mortification--when the former broke into loud laughter.
+
+"What I tell you?" he cried, pointing ahead. "Look ayonnuh! NO, suh,
+Pres'dent United States hisse'f ain' go tell 'at dog stay home!"
+
+And there, at the corner before them, waited Clematis, roguishly lying
+in a mud-puddle in the gutter. He had run through alleys parallel to
+their course--and in the face of such demoniac cunning the wretched
+William despaired of evading his society. Indeed, there was nothing to
+do but to give up, and so the trio proceeded, with William unable to
+decide which contaminated him more, Genesis or the loyal Clematis. To
+his way of thinking, he was part of a dreadful pageant, and he winced
+pitiably whenever the eye of a respectable passer-by fell upon him.
+Everybody seemed to stare--nay, to leer! And he felt that the whole
+world would know his shame by nightfall.
+
+Nobody, he reflected, seeing him in such company, could believe that he
+belonged to "one of the oldest and best families in town." Nobody would
+understand that he was not walking with Genesis for the pleasure of his
+companionship--until they got the tubs and the wash-boiler, when his
+social condition must be thought even more degraded. And nobody, he was
+shudderingly positive, could see that Clematis was not his dog (Clematis
+kept himself humbly a little in the rear, but how was any observer to
+know that he belonged to Genesis and not to William?)
+
+And how frightful that THIS should befall him on such a day, the very
+day that his soul had been split asunder by the turquoise shafts of
+Milady's eyes and he had learned to know the Real Thing at last!
+
+"Milady! Oh, Milady!"
+
+For in the elder teens adolescence may be completed, but not by
+experience, and these years know their own tragedies. It is the time of
+life when one finds it unendurable not to seem perfect in all outward
+matters: in worldly position, in the equipments of wealth, in family,
+and in the grace, elegance, and dignity of all appearances in
+public. And yet the youth is continually betrayed by the child still
+intermittently insistent within him, and by the child which undiplomatic
+people too often assume him to be. Thus with William's attire: he could
+ill have borne any suggestion that it was not of the mode, but taking
+care of it was a different matter. Also, when it came to his appetite,
+he could and would eat anything at any time, but something younger than
+his years led him--often in semi-secrecy--to candy-stores and soda-water
+fountains and ice-cream parlors; he still relished green apples and knew
+cravings for other dangerous inedibles. But these survivals were far
+from painful to him; what injured his sensibilities was the disposition
+on the part of people especially his parents, and frequently his aunts
+and uncles--to regard him as a little boy. Briefly, the deference his
+soul demanded in its own right, not from strangers only, but from
+his family, was about that which is supposed to be shown a Grand Duke
+visiting his Estates. Therefore William suffered often.
+
+But the full ignominy of the task his own mother had set him this
+afternoon was not realized until he and Genesis set forth upon the
+return journey from the second-hand shop, bearing the two wash-tubs, a
+clothes-wringer (which Mrs. Baxter had forgotten to mention), and the
+tin boiler--and followed by the lowly Clematis.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+SORROWS WITHIN A BOILER
+
+There was something really pageant-like about the little excursion now,
+and the glittering clothes-boiler, borne on high, sent flashing lights
+far down the street. The wash-tubs were old-fashioned, of wood; they
+refused to fit one within the other; so William, with his right hand,
+and Genesis, with his left, carried one of the tubs between them;
+Genesis carried the heavy wringer with his right hand, and he had
+fastened the other tub upon his back by means of a bit of rope which
+passed over his shoulder; thus the tin boiler, being a lighter burden,
+fell to William.
+
+The cover would not stay in place, but continually fell off when he
+essayed to carry the boiler by one of its handles, and he made shift
+to manage the accursed thing in various ways--the only one proving
+physically endurable being, unfortunately, the most grotesque. He
+was forced to carry the cover in his left hand and to place his head
+partially within the boiler itself, and to support it--tilted obliquely
+to rest upon his shoulders--as a kind of monstrous tin cowl or helmet.
+This had the advantage of somewhat concealing his face, though when
+he leaned his head back, in order to obtain clearer vision of what was
+before him, the boiler slid off and fell to the pavement with a noise
+that nearly caused a runaway, and brought the hot-cheeked William much
+derisory attention from a passing street-car. However, he presently
+caught the knack of keeping it in position, and it fell no more.
+
+Seen from the rear, William was unrecognizable--but interesting.
+He appeared to be a walking clothes-boiler, armed with a shield and
+connected, by means of a wash-tub, with a negro of informal ideas
+concerning dress. In fact, the group was whimsical, and three young
+people who turned in behind it, out of a cross-street, indulged
+immediately in fits of inadequately suppressed laughter, though neither
+Miss May Parcher nor Mr. Johnnie Watson even remotely suspected that the
+legs beneath the clothes-boiler belonged to an acquaintance. And as
+for the third of this little party, Miss Parcher's visitor, those
+peregrinating legs suggested nothing familiar to her.
+
+"Oh, see the fun-ee laundrymans!" she cried, addressing a cottony
+doglet's head that bobbed gently up and down over her supporting arm.
+"Sweetest Flopit must see, too! Flopit, look at the fun-ee laundrymans!"
+
+"'Sh!" murmured Miss Parcher, choking. "He might hear you."
+
+He might, indeed, since they were not five yards behind him and the
+dulcet voice was clear and free. Within the shadowy interior of the
+clothes-boiler were features stricken with sudden, utter horror.
+"FLOPIT!"
+
+The attention of Genesis was attracted by a convulsive tugging of the
+tub which he supported in common with William; it seemed passionately to
+urge greater speed. A hissing issued from the boiler, and Genesis caught
+the words, huskily whispered:
+
+"Walk faster! You got to walk faster."
+
+The tub between them tugged forward with a pathos of appeal wasted upon
+the easy-going Genesis.
+
+"I got plenty time cut 'at grass befo' you' pa gits home," he said,
+reassuringly. "Thishere rope what I got my extry tub slung to is 'mos'
+wo' plum thew my hide."
+
+Having uttered this protest, he continued to ambulate at the same pace,
+though somewhat assisted by the forward pull of the connecting tub, an
+easance of burden which he found pleasant; and no supplementary message
+came from the clothes-boiler, for the reason that it was incapable
+of further speech. And so the two groups maintained for a time their
+relative positions, about fifteen feet apart.
+
+The amusement of the second group having abated through satiety, the
+minds of its components turned to other topics. "Now Flopit must have
+his darlin' 'ickle run," said Flopit's mistress, setting the doglet upon
+the ground. "That's why sweetest Flopit and I and all of us came for a
+walk, instead of sitting on the nice, cool porch-kins. SEE the sweetie
+toddle! Isn't he adorable, May? ISN'T he adorable, Mr. Watson?"
+
+Mr. Watson put a useless sin upon his soul, since all he needed to say
+was a mere "Yes." He fluently avowed himself to have become insane over
+the beauty of Flopit.
+
+Flopit, placed upon the ground, looked like something that had dropped
+from a Christmas tree, and he automatically made use of fuzzy legs,
+somewhat longer than a caterpillar's, to patter after his mistress. He
+was neither enterprising nor inquisitive; he kept close to the rim of
+her skirt, which was as high as he could see, and he wished to be taken
+up and carried again. He was in a half-stupor; it was his desire
+to remain in that condition, and his propulsion was almost wholly
+subconscious, though surprisingly rapid, considering his dimensions.
+
+"My goo'ness!" exclaimed Genesis, glancing back over his shoulder. "'At
+li'l' thing ack like he think he go'n a GIT somewheres!" And then, in
+answer to a frantic pull upon the tub, "Look like you mighty strong
+t'day," he said. "I cain' go no fastuh!" He glanced back again,
+chuckling. "'At li'l' bird do well not mix up nothin' 'ith ole man
+Clematis!"
+
+Clematis, it happened, was just coming into view, having been detained
+round the corner by his curiosity concerning a set of Louis XVI.
+furniture which some house-movers were unpacking upon the sidewalk. A
+curl of excelsior, in fact, had attached itself to his nether lip,
+and he was pausing to remove it--when his roving eye fell upon Flopit.
+Clematis immediately decided to let the excelsior remain where it was,
+lest he miss something really important.
+
+He approached with glowing eagerness at a gallop.
+
+Then, having almost reached his goal, he checked himself with surprising
+abruptness and walked obliquely beside Flopit, but upon a parallel
+course, his manner agitated and his brow furrowed with perplexity.
+Flopit was about the size of Clematis's head, and although Clematis was
+certain that Flopit was something alive, he could not decide what.
+
+Flopit paid not the slightest attention to Clematis. The self-importance
+of dogs, like that of the minds of men, is in directly inverse ratio to
+their size; and if the self-importance of Flopit could have been taken
+out of him and given to an elephant, that elephant would have been
+insufferable.
+
+Flopit continued to pay no attention to Clematis.
+
+All at once, a roguish and irresponsible mood seized upon Clematis; he
+laid his nose upon the ground, deliberating a bit of gaiety, and then,
+with a little rush, set a large, rude paw upon the sensitive face
+of Flopit and capsized him. Flopit uttered a bitter complaint in an
+asthmatic voice.
+
+"Oh, nassy dray bid Horror!" cried his mistress, turning quickly at this
+sound and waving a pink parasol at Clematis. "Shoo! DIRTY dog! Go 'way!"
+And she was able somehow to connect him with the wash-tub and boiler,
+for she added, "Nassy laundrymans to have bad doggies!"
+
+Mr. Watson rushed upon Clematis with angry bellowings and imaginary
+missiles. "You disgusting brute!" he roared. "How DARE you?"
+
+Apparently much alarmed, Clematis lowered his ears, tucked his tail
+underneath him, and fled to the rear, not halting once or looking back
+until he disappeared round the corner whence he had come. "There!" said
+Mr. Watson. "I guess HE won't bother us again very soon!"
+
+It must be admitted that Milady was one of those people who do not mind
+being overheard, no matter what they say. "Lucky for us," she said,
+"we had a nice dray bid MANS to protect us, wasn't it, Flopit?" And
+she thought it necessary to repeat something she had already made
+sufficiently emphatic.
+
+"Nassy laundrymans!"
+
+"I expect I gave that big mongrel the fright of his life," said Mr.
+Watson, with complacency. "He'll probably run a mile!"
+
+The shoulders of Genesis shook as he was towed along by the convulsive
+tub. He knew from previous evidence that Clematis possessed both a high
+quality and a large quantity of persistence, and it was his hilarious
+opinion that the dog had not gone far. As a matter of fact, the head
+of Clematis was at this moment cautiously extended from behind the
+fence-post at the corner whither he had fled. Viewing with growing
+assurance the scene before him, he permitted himself to emerge wholly,
+and sat down, with his head tilted to one side in thought. Almost at the
+next corner the clothes-boiler with legs, and the wash-tubs, and
+Genesis were marching on; and just behind them went three figures not
+so familiar to Clematis, and connected in his mind with a vague, mild
+apprehension. But all backs were safely toward him, and behind them
+pattered that small live thing which had so profoundly interested him.
+
+He rose and came on apace, silently.
+
+When he reached the side of Flopit, some eight or nine seconds later,
+Clematis found himself even more fascinated and perplexed than during
+their former interview, though again Flopit seemed utterly to disregard
+him. Clematis was not at all sure that Flopit WAS a dog, but he felt
+that it was his business to find out. Heaven knows, so far, Clematis had
+not a particle of animosity in his heart, but he considered it his duty
+to himself--in case Flopit turned out not to be a dog--to learn just
+what he was. The thing might be edible.
+
+Therefore, again pacing obliquely beside Flopit (while the human beings
+ahead went on, unconscious of the approaching climax behind them)
+Clematis sought to detect, by senses keener than sight, some evidence of
+Flopit's standing in the zoological kingdom; and, sniffing at the top
+of Flopit's head--though Clematis was uncertain about its indeed being a
+head--he found himself baffled and mentally much disturbed.
+
+Flopit did not smell like a dog; he smelled of violets.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+TRUCULENCE
+
+Clematis frowned and sneezed as the infinitesimal particles of sachet
+powder settled in the lining of his nose. He became serious, and was
+conscious of a growing feeling of dislike; he began to be upset over the
+whole matter. But his conscience compelled him to persist in his
+attempt to solve the mystery; and also he remembered that one should
+be courteous, no matter what some other thing chooses to be. Hence he
+sought to place his nose in contact with Flopit's, for he had perceived
+on the front of the mysterious stranger a buttony something which might
+possibly be a nose.
+
+Flopit evaded the contact. He felt that he had endured about enough
+from this Apache, and that it was nearly time to destroy him. Having no
+experience of battle, save with bedroom slippers and lace handkerchiefs,
+Flopit had little doubt of his powers as a warrior. Betrayed by his
+majestic self-importance, he had not the remotest idea that he was
+small. Usually he saw the world from a window, or from the seat of an
+automobile, or over his mistress's arm. He looked down on all dogs,
+thought them ruffianly, despised them; and it is the miraculous truth
+that not only was he unaware that he was small, but he did not even know
+that he was a dog, himself. He did not think about himself in that way.
+
+From these various ignorances of his sprang his astonishing, his
+incredible, valor. Clematis, with head lowered close to Flopit's,
+perceived something peering at him from beneath the tangled curtain
+of cottony, violet-scented stuff which seemed to be the upper part of
+Flopit's face. It was Flopit's eye, a red-rimmed eye and sore--and so
+demoniacally malignant that Clematis, indescribably startled, would
+have withdrawn his own countenance at once--but it was too late. With a
+fearful oath Flopit sprang upward and annexed himself to the under lip
+of the horrified Clematis.
+
+Horror gave place to indignation instantly; and as Miss Parcher and her
+guest turned, screaming, Clematis's self-command went all to pieces.
+
+Miss Parcher became faint and leaned against the hedge along which they
+had been passing, but her visitor continued to scream, while Mr. Watson
+endeavored to kick Clematis without ruining Flopit--a difficult matter.
+
+Flopit was baresark from the first, and the mystery is where he
+learned the dog-cursing that he did. In spite of the David-and-Goliath
+difference in size it would be less than justice to deny that a very
+fair dog-fight took place. It was so animated, in truth, that the one
+expert in such matters who was present found himself warmly interested.
+Genesis relieved himself of the burden of the wash-tub upon his back,
+dropped the handle of that other in which he had a half-interest,
+and watched the combat; his mouth, like his eyes, wide open in simple
+pleasure.
+
+He was not destined to enjoy the spectacle to the uttermost; a furious
+young person struck him a frantic, though harmless, blow with a pink
+parasol.
+
+"You stop them!" she screamed. "You make that horrible dog stop, or I'll
+have you arrested!"
+
+Genesis rushed forward.
+
+"You CLEM!" he shouted.
+
+And instantly Clematis was but a whitish and brownish streak along the
+hedge. He ran like a dog in a moving picture when they speed the film,
+and he shot from sight, once more, round the corner, while Flopit, still
+cursing, was seized and squeezed in his mistress's embrace.
+
+But she was not satisfied. "Where's that laundryman with the tin thing
+on his head?" she demanded. "He ought to be arrested for having such a
+dog. It's HIS dog, isn't it? Where is he?"
+
+Genesis turned and looked round about the horizon, mystified. William
+Sylvanus Baxter and the clothes-boiler had disappeared from sight.
+
+"If he owns that dog," asserted the still furious owner of Flopit, "I
+WILL have him arrested. Where is he? Where is that laundryman?"
+
+"Why, he," Genesis began slowly, "HE ain' no laundrym--" He came to an
+uncertain pause. If she chose to assume, with quick feminine intuition,
+that the dog was William's and that William was a laundryman, it was not
+Genesis's place to enlighten her. "'Tic'larly," he reflected, "since
+she talk so free about gittin' people 'rested!" He became aware that
+William had squirmed through the hedge and now lay prostrate on the
+other side of it, but this, likewise, was something within neither his
+duty nor his inclination to reveal.
+
+"Thishere laundryman," said Genesis, resuming--"thishere laundryman what
+own the dog, I reckon he mus' hopped on 'at street-car what went by."
+
+"Well, he OUGHT to be arrested!" she said, and, pressing her cheek
+to Flopit's, she changed her tone. "Izzum's ickle heart a-beatin' so
+floppity! Um's own mumsy make ums all right, um's p'eshus Flopit!"
+
+Then with the consoling Miss Parcher's arm about her, and Mr. Watson
+even more dazzled with love than when he had first met her, some three
+hours past, she made her way between the tubs, and passed on down the
+street. Not till the three (and Flopit) were out of sight did William
+come forth from the hedge.
+
+"Hi yah!" exclaimed Genesis. "'At lady go'n a 'rest ev'y man what own a
+dog, 'f she had her way!"
+
+But William spoke no word.
+
+In silence, then, they resumed their burdens and their journey. Clematis
+was waiting for them at the corner ahead.
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+MR. BAXTER'S EVENING CLOTHES
+
+That evening, at about half-past seven o'clock, dinner being over and
+Mr. and Mrs. Baxter (parents of William) seated in the library, Mrs.
+Baxter said:
+
+"I think it's about time for you to go and dress for your Emerson Club
+meeting, papa, if you intend to go."
+
+"Do I have to dress?" Mr. Baxter asked, plaintively.
+
+"I think nearly all the men do, don't they?" she insisted.
+
+"But I'm getting old enough not to have to, don't you think, mamma?" he
+urged, appealingly. "When a man's my age--"
+
+"Nonsense!" she said. "Your figure is exactly like William's. It's the
+figure that really shows age first, and yours hasn't begun to." And she
+added, briskly, "Go along like a good boy and get it ever!"
+
+Mr. Baxter rose submissively and went upstairs to do as he was bid. But,
+after fifteen or twenty minutes, during which his footsteps had
+been audible in various parts of the house, he called down over the
+banisters:
+
+"I can't find 'em."
+
+"Can't find what?"
+
+"My evening clothes. They aren't anywhere in the house."
+
+"Where did you put them the last time you wore them?" she called.
+
+"I don't know. I haven't had 'em on since last spring."
+
+"All right; I'll come," she said, putting her sewing upon the table and
+rising. "Men never can find anything," she observed, additionally, as
+she ascended the stairs. "Especially their own things!"
+
+On this occasion, however, as she was obliged to admit a little later,
+women were not more efficacious than the duller sex. Search high, search
+low, no trace of Mr. Baxter's evening clothes were to be found. "Perhaps
+William could find them," said Mrs. Baxter, a final confession of
+helplessness.
+
+But William was no more to be found than the missing apparel. William,
+in fact, after spending some time in the lower back hall, listening to
+the quest above, had just gone out through the kitchen door. And after
+some ensuing futile efforts, Mr. Baxter was forced to proceed to his
+club in the accoutrements of business.
+
+He walked slowly, enjoying the full moon, which sailed up a river in the
+sky--the open space between the trees that lined the street--and as
+he passed the house of Mr. Parcher he noted the fine white shape of a
+masculine evening bosom gleaming in the moonlight on the porch. A
+dainty figure in white sat beside it, and there was another white figure
+present, though this one was so small that Mr. Baxter did not see it at
+all. It was the figure of a tiny doglet, and it reposed upon the black
+masculine knees that belonged to the evening bosom.
+
+Mr. Baxter heard a dulcet voice.
+
+"He IS indifferink, isn't he, sweetest Flopit? Seriously, though,
+Mr. Watson was telling me about you to-day. He says you're the most
+indifferent man he knows. He says you don't care two minutes whether a
+girl lives or dies. Isn't he a mean ole wicked sing, p'eshus Flopit!"
+
+The reply was inaudible, and Mr. Baxter passed on, having recognized
+nothing of his own.
+
+"These YOUNG fellows don't have any trouble finding their dress-suits, I
+guess," he murmured. "Not on a night like this!"
+
+
+... Thus William, after a hard day, came to the gates of his romance,
+entering those portals of the moon in triumph. At one stroke his dashing
+raiment gave him high superiority over Johnnie Watson and other rivals
+who might loom. But if he had known to what undoing this great coup
+exposed him, it is probable that Mr. Baxter would have appeared at the
+Emerson Club, that night, in evening clothes.
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+JANE
+
+William's period of peculiar sensitiveness dated from that evening, and
+Jane, in particular, caused him a great deal of anxiety. In fact, he
+began to feel that Jane was a mortification which his parents might have
+spared him, with no loss to themselves or to the world. Not having
+shown that consideration for anybody, they might at least have been less
+spinelessly indulgent of her. William's bitter conviction was that he
+had never seen a child so starved of discipline or so lost to etiquette
+as Jane.
+
+For one thing, her passion for bread-and-butter, covered with apple
+sauce and powdered sugar, was getting to be a serious matter. Secretly,
+William was not yet so changed by love as to be wholly indifferent to
+this refection himself, but his consumption of it was private, whereas
+Jane had formed the habit of eating it in exposed places--such as the
+front yard or the sidewalk. At no hour of the day was it advisable for
+a relative to approach the neighborhood in fastidious company, unless
+prepared to acknowledge kinship with a spindly young person either
+eating bread-and-butter and apple sauce and powdered sugar, or all too
+visibly just having eaten bread-and-butter and apple sauce and powdered
+sugar. Moreover, there were times when Jane had worse things than apple
+sauce to answer for, as William made clear to his mother in an oration
+as hot as the July noon sun which looked down upon it.
+
+Mrs. Baxter was pleasantly engaged with a sprinkling-can and some small
+flower-beds in the shady back yard, and Jane, having returned from
+various sidewalk excursions, stood close by as a spectator, her hands
+replenished with the favorite food and her chin rising and falling in
+gentle motions, little prophecies of the slight distensions which passed
+down her slender throat with slow, rhythmic regularity. Upon this calm
+scene came William, plunging round a corner of the house, furious yet
+plaintive.
+
+"You've got to do something about that child!" he began. "I CAN not
+stand it!"
+
+Jane looked at him dumbly, not ceasing, how ever, to eat; while Mrs.
+Baxter thoughtfully continued her sprinkling.
+
+"You've been gone all morning, Willie," she said. "I thought your father
+mentioned at breakfast that he expected you to put in at least four
+hours a day on your mathematics and--"
+
+"That's neither here nor there," William returned, vehemently. "I just
+want to say this: if you don't do something about Jane, I will! Just
+look at her! LOOK at her, I ask you! That's just the way she looked half
+an hour ago, out on the public sidewalk in front of the house, when
+I came by here with Miss PRATT! That was pleasant, wasn't it? To be
+walking with a lady on the public street and meet a member of my family
+looking like that! Oh, LOVELY!"
+
+In the anguish of this recollection his voice cracked, and though his
+eyes were dry his gestures wept for him. Plainly, he was about to reach
+the most lamentable portion of his narrative. "And then she HOLLERED at
+me! She hollered, 'Oh, WILL--EE!'" Here he gave an imitation of Jane's
+voice, so damnatory that Jane ceased to eat for several moments and drew
+herself up with a kind of dignity. "She hollered, 'Oh, WILL--EE' at
+me!" he stormed. "Anybody would think I was about six years old! She
+hollered, 'Oh, Will--ee,' and she rubbed her stomach and slushed apple
+sauce all over her face, and she kept hollering, 'Will--ee!' with her
+mouth full. 'Will--ee, look! Good! Bread-and-butter and apple sauce and
+sugar! I bet you wish YOU had some, Will--ee!'"
+
+"You did eat some, the other day," said Jane. "You ate a whole lot. You
+eat it every chance you get!"
+
+"You hush up!" he shouted, and returned to his description of the
+outrage. "She kept FOLLOWING us! She followed us, hollering, 'WILL--EE!'
+till it's a wonder we didn't go deaf! And just look at her! I don't
+see how you can stand it to have her going around like that and people
+knowing it's your child! Why, she hasn't got enough ON!"
+
+Mrs. Baxter laughed. "Oh, for this very hot weather, I really don't
+think people notice or care much about--"
+
+"'Notice'!" he wailed. "I guess Miss PRATT noticed! Hot weather's no
+excuse for--for outright obesity!" (As Jane was thin, it is probable
+that William had mistaken the meaning of this word.) "Why, half o' what
+she HAS got on has come unfastened--especially that frightful thing
+hanging around her leg--and look at her back, I just beg you! I ask you
+to look at her back. You can see her spinal cord!"
+
+"Column," Mrs. Baxter corrected. "Spinal column, Willie."
+
+"What do _I_ care which it is?" he fumed. "People aren't supposed to go
+around with it EXPOSED, whichever it is! And with apple sauce on their
+ears!"
+
+"There is not!" Jane protested, and at the moment when she spoke she was
+right. Naturally, however, she lifted her hands to the accused ears, and
+the unfortunate result was to justify William's statement.
+
+"LOOK!" he cried. "I just ask you to look! Think of it: that's the sight
+I have to meet when I'm out walking with Miss PRATT! She asked me who
+it was, and I wish you'd seen her face. She wanted to know who 'that
+curious child' was, and I'm glad you didn't hear the way she said it.
+'Who IS that curious child?' she said, and I had to tell her it was my
+sister. I had to tell Miss PRATT it was my only SISTER!"
+
+"Willie, who is Miss Pratt?" asked Mrs. Baxter, mildly. "I don't think
+I've ever heard of--"
+
+Jane had returned to an admirable imperturbability, but she chose
+this moment to interrupt her mother, and her own eating, with remarks
+delivered in a tone void of emphasis or expression.
+
+"Willie's mashed on her," she said, casually. "And she wears false
+side-curls. One almost came off."
+
+At this unspeakable desecration William's face was that of a high priest
+stricken at the altar.
+
+"She's visitin' Miss May Parcher," added the deadly Jane. "But the
+Parchers are awful tired of her. They wish she'd go home, but they don't
+like to tell her so."
+
+One after another these insults from the canaille fell upon the ears of
+William. That slanders so atrocious could soil the universal air seemed
+unthinkable.
+
+He became icily calm.
+
+"NOW if you don't punish her," he said, deliberately, "it's because you
+have lost your sense of duty!"
+
+Having uttered these terrible words, he turned upon his heel and marched
+toward the house. His mother called after him:
+
+"Wait, Willie. Jane doesn't mean to hurt your feelings--"
+
+"My feelings!" he cried, the iciness of his demeanor giving way under
+the strain of emotion. "You stand there and allow her to speak as she
+did of one of the--one of the--" For a moment William appeared to be at
+a loss, and the fact is that it always has been a difficult matter to
+describe THE bright, ineffable divinity of the world to one's mother,
+especially in the presence of an inimical third party of tender years.
+"One of the--" he said; "one of the--the noblest--one of the noblest--"
+
+Again he paused.
+
+"Oh, Jane didn't mean anything," said Mrs. Baxter. "And if you think
+Miss Pratt is so nice, I'll ask May Parcher to bring her to tea with us
+some day. If it's too hot, we'll have iced tea, and you can ask Johnnie
+Watson, if you like. Don't get so upset about things, Willie!"
+
+"'Upset'!" he echoed, appealing to heaven against this word. "'Upset'!"
+And he entered the house in a manner most dramatic.
+
+"What made you say that?" Mrs. Baxter asked, turning curiously to Jane
+when William had disappeared. "Where did you hear any such things?"
+
+"I was there," Jane replied, gently eating on and on. William could come
+and William could go, but Jane's alimentary canal went on forever.
+
+"You were where, Jane?"
+
+"At the Parchers'."
+
+"Oh, I see."
+
+"Yesterday afternoon," said Jane, "when Miss Parcher had the
+Sunday-school class for lemonade and cookies."
+
+"Did you hear Miss Parcher say--"
+
+"No'm," said Jane. "I ate too many cookies, I guess, maybe. Anyways,
+Miss Parcher said I better lay down--"
+
+"LIE down, Jane."
+
+"Yes'm. On the sofa in the liberry, an' Mrs. Parcher an' Mr. Parcher
+came in there an' sat down, after while, an' it was kind of dark, an'
+they didn't hardly notice me, or I guess they thought I was asleep,
+maybe. Anyways, they didn't talk loud, but Mr. Parcher would sort of
+grunt an' ack cross. He said he just wished he knew when he was goin'
+to have a home again. Then Mrs. Parcher said May HAD to ask her
+Sunday-school class, but he said he never meant the Sunday-school class.
+He said since Miss Pratt came to visit, there wasn't anywhere he could
+go, because Willie Baxter an' Johnnie Watson an' Joe Bullitt an' all the
+other ones like that were there all the time, an' it made him just sick
+at the stummick, an' he did wish there was some way to find out when she
+was goin' home, because he couldn't stand much more talk about love.
+He said Willie an' Johnnie Watson an' Joe Bullitt an' Miss Pratt were
+always arguin' somep'm about love, an' he said Willie was the worst.
+Mamma, he said he didn't like the rest of it, but he said he guessed he
+could stand it if it wasn't for Willie. An' he said the reason they were
+all so in love of Miss Pratt was because she talks baby-talk, an' he
+said he couldn't stand much more baby-talk. Mamma, she has the loveliest
+little white dog, an' Mr. Parcher doesn't like it. He said he couldn't
+go anywhere around the place without steppin' on the dog or Willie
+Baxter. An' he said he couldn't sit on his own porch any more; he said
+he couldn't sit even in the liberry but he had to hear baby-talk goin'
+on SOMEwheres an' then either Willie Baxter or Joe Bullitt or
+somebody or another arguin' about love. Mamma, he said"--Jane became
+impressive--"he said, mamma, he said he didn't mind the Sunday-school
+class, but he couldn't stand those dam boys!"
+
+"Jane!" Mrs. Baxter cried, "you MUSTN'T say such things!"
+
+"I didn't, mamma. Mr. Parcher said it. He said he couldn't stand those
+da--"
+
+"JANE! No matter what he said, you mustn't repeat--"
+
+"But I'm not. I only said Mr. PARCHER said he couldn't stand those d--"
+
+Mrs. Baxter cut the argument short by imprisoning Jane's mouth with a
+firm hand. Jane continued to swallow quietly until released. Then she
+said:
+
+"But, mamma, how can I tell you what he said unless I say--"
+
+"Hush!" Mrs. Baxter commanded. "You must never, never again use such a
+terrible and wicked word."
+
+"I won't, mamma," Jane said, meekly. Then she brightened. "Oh, _I_ know!
+I'll say 'word' instead. Won't that be all right?"
+
+"I--I suppose so."
+
+"Well, Mr. Parcher said he couldn't stand those word boys. That sounds
+all right, doesn't it, mamma?"
+
+Mrs. Baxter hesitated, but she was inclined to hear as complete as
+possible a report of Mr. and Mrs. Parcher's conversation, since it
+seemed to concern William so nearly; and she well knew that Jane had her
+own way of telling things--or else they remained untold.
+
+"I--I suppose so," Mrs. Baxter said, again.
+
+"Well, they kind of talked along," Jane continued, much pleased;--"an'
+Mr. Parcher said when he was young he wasn't any such a--such a word
+fool as these young word fools were. He said in all his born days Willie
+Baxter was the wordest fool he ever saw!"
+
+Willie Baxter's mother flushed a little. "That was very unjust and very
+wrong of Mr. Parcher," she said, primly.
+
+"Oh no, mamma!" Jane protested. "Mrs. Parcher thought so, too."
+
+"Did she, indeed!"
+
+"Only she didn't say word or wordest or anything like that," Jane
+explained. "She said it was because Miss Pratt had coaxed him to be so
+in love of her, an' Mr. Parcher said he didn't care whose fault it was,
+Willie was a--a word calf an' so were all the rest of 'em, Mr. Parcher
+said. An' he said he couldn't stand it any more. Mr. Parcher said that a
+whole lot of times, mamma. He said he guess' pretty soon he'd haf to be
+in the lunatic asylum if Miss Pratt stayed a few more days with her word
+little dog an' her word Willie Baxter an' all the other word calfs. Mrs.
+Parcher said he oughtn't to say 'word,' mamma. She said, 'Hush, hush!'
+to him, mamma. He talked like this, mamma: he said, 'I'll be word if I
+stand it!' An' he kept gettin' crosser, an' he said, 'Word! Word! WORD!
+WOR--'"
+
+"There!" Mrs. Baxter interrupted, sharply. "That will do, Jane! We'll
+talk about something else now, I think."
+
+Jane looked hurt; she was taking great pleasure in this confidential
+interview, and gladly would have continued to quote the harried Mr.
+Parcher at great length. Still, she was not entirely uncontent: she must
+have had some perception that her performance merely as a notable bit of
+reportorial art--did not wholly lack style, even if her attire did. Yet,
+brilliant as Jane's work was, Mrs. Baxter felt no astonishment; several
+times ere this Jane had demonstrated a remarkable faculty for the
+retention of details concerning William. And running hand in hand with
+a really superb curiosity, this powerful memory was making Jane an even
+greater factor in William's life than he suspected.
+
+During the glamors of early love, if there be a creature more deadly
+than the little brother of a budding woman, that creature is the little
+sister of a budding man. The little brother at least tells in the open
+all he knows, often at full power of his lungs, and even that may be
+avoided, since he is wax in the hands of bribery; but the little sister
+is more apt to save her knowledge for use upon a terrible occasion; and,
+no matter what bribes she may accept, she is certain to tell her mother
+everything. All in all, a young lover should arrange, if possible, to be
+the only child of elderly parents; otherwise his mother and sister are
+sure to know a great deal more about him than he knows that they know.
+
+This was what made Jane's eyes so disturbing to William during lunch
+that day. She ate quietly and competently, but all the while he was
+conscious of her solemn and inscrutable gaze fixed upon him; and she
+spoke not once. She could not have rendered herself more annoying,
+especially as William was trying to treat her with silent scorn, for
+nothing is more irksome to the muscles of the face than silent scorn,
+when there is no means of showing it except by the expression. On the
+other hand, Jane's inscrutability gave her no discomfort whatever. In
+fact, inscrutability is about the most comfortable expression that a
+person can wear, though the truth is that just now Jane was not really
+inscrutable at all.
+
+She was merely looking at William and thinking of Mr. Parcher.
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+LITTLE SISTERS HAVE BIG EARS
+
+The confidential talk between mother and daughter at noon was not
+the last to take place that day. At nightfall--eight o'clock in this
+pleasant season--Jane was saying her prayers beside her bed, while her
+mother stood close by, waiting to put out the light.
+
+"An' bless mamma and papa an'--" Jane murmured, coming to a pause.
+"An'--an' bless Willie," she added, with a little reluctance.
+
+"Go on, dear," said her mother. "You haven't finished."
+
+"I know it, mamma," Jane looked up to say. "I was just thinkin' a
+minute. I want to tell you about somep'm."
+
+"Finish your prayers first, Jane."
+
+Jane obeyed with a swiftness in which there was no intentional
+irreverence. Then she jumped into bed and began a fresh revelation.
+
+"It's about papa's clo'es, mamma."
+
+"What clothes of papa's? What do you mean, Jane?" asked Mrs. Baxter,
+puzzled.
+
+"The ones you couldn't find. The ones you been lookin' for 'most every
+day."
+
+"You mean papa's evening clothes?"
+
+"Yes'm," said Jane. "Willie's got 'em on."
+
+"What!"
+
+"Yes, he has!" Jane assured her with emphasis. "I bet you he's had 'em
+on every single evening since Miss Pratt came to visit the Parchers!
+Anyway, he's got 'em on now, 'cause I saw 'em."
+
+Mrs. Baxter bit her lip and frowned. "Are you sure, Jane?"
+
+"Yes'm. I saw him in 'em."
+
+"How?"
+
+"Well, I was in my bare feet after I got undressed--before you came
+up-stairs--mamma, an' I was kind of walkin' around in the hall--"
+
+"You shouldn't do that, Jane."
+
+"No'm. An' I heard Willie say somep'm kind of to himself, or like
+deckamation. He was inside his room, but the door wasn't quite shut. He
+started out once, but he went back for somep'm an' forgot to, I guess.
+Anyway, I thought I better look an' see what was goin' on, mamma. So I
+just kind of peeked in--"
+
+"But you shouldn't do that, dear," Mrs. Baxter said, musingly. "It isn't
+really quite honorable."
+
+"No'm. Well, what you think he was doin'?" (Here Jane's voice betrayed
+excitement and so did her eyes.) "He was standin' up there in papa's
+clo'es before the lookin'-glass, an' first he'd lean his head over on
+one side, an' then he'd lean it over on the other side, an' then he'd
+bark, mamma."
+
+"He'd what?"
+
+"Yes'm!" said Jane. "He'd give a little, teeny BARK, mamma--kind of like
+a puppy, mamma."
+
+"What?" cried Mrs. Baxter.
+
+"Yes'm, he did!" Jane asserted. "He did it four or five times. First
+he'd lean his head way over on his shoulder like this--look, mamma!--an'
+then he'd lean it way over the other shoulder, an' every time he'd do it
+he'd bark. 'Berp-werp!' he'd say, mamma, just like that, only not loud
+at all. He said, 'Berp-werp! BERP-WERP-WERP!' You could tell he meant
+it for barkin', but it wasn't very good, mamma. What you think he meant,
+mamma?"
+
+"Heaven knows!" murmured the astonished mother.
+
+"An' then," Jane continued, "he quit barkin' all of a sudden, an' didn't
+lean his head over any more, an' commenced actin' kind of solemn, an'
+kind of whispered to himself. I think he was kind of pretendin' he was
+talkin' to Miss Pratt, or at a party, maybe. Anyways, he spoke out loud
+after while not just exactly LOUD, I mean, but anyway so's 't I could
+hear what he said. Mamma--he said, 'Oh, my baby-talk lady!' just like
+that, mamma. Listen, mamma, here's the way he said it: 'Oh, my baby-talk
+lady!'"
+
+Jane's voice, in this impersonation, became sufficiently soft and
+tremulous to give Mrs. Baxter a fair idea of the tender yearning of the
+original. "'OH, MY BABY-TALK LADY!'" cooed the terrible Jane.
+
+"Mercy!" Mrs. Baxter exclaimed. "Perhaps it's no wonder Mr. Parcher--"
+She broke off abruptly, then inquired, "What did he do next, Jane?"
+
+"Next," said Jane, "he put the light out, an' I had to--well, I just
+waited kind of squeeged up against the wall, an' he never saw me. He
+went on out to the back stairs, an' went down the stairs tiptoe, mamma.
+You know what I think, mamma? I think he goes out that way an' through
+the kitchen on account of papa's clo'es."
+
+Mrs. Baxter paused, with her hand upon the key of the shaded electric
+lamp. "I suppose so," she said. "I think perhaps--" For a moment or
+two she wrapped herself in thought. "Perhaps"--she repeated,
+musingly--"perhaps we'll keep this just a secret between you and me for
+a little while, Jane, and not say anything to papa about the clothes. I
+don't think it will hurt them, and I suppose Willie feels they give
+him a great advantage over the other boys--and papa uses them so very
+little, especially since he's grown a wee bit stouter. Yes, it will be
+our secret, Jane. We'll think it over till to-morrow."
+
+"Yes'm."
+
+Mrs. Baxter turned out the light, then came and kissed Jane in the dark.
+"Good night, dear."
+
+"G' night, mamma." But as Mrs. Baxter reached the door Jane's voice was
+heard again.
+
+"Mamma?"
+
+"Yes?" Mrs. Baxter paused.
+
+"Mamma," Jane said, slowly, "I think--I think Mr. Parcher is a very nice
+man. Mamma?"
+
+"Yes, dear?"
+
+"Mamma, what do you s'pose Willie barked at the lookin'-glass for?"
+
+"That," said Mrs. Baxter, "is beyond me. Young people and children do
+the strangest things, Jane! And then, when they get to be middle-aged,
+they forget all those strange things they did, and they can't understand
+what the new young people--like you and Willie mean by the strange
+things THEY do."
+
+"Yes'm. I bet _I_ know what he was barkin' for, mamma."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"You know what I think? I think he was kind of practisin'. I think he
+was practisin' how to bark at Mr. Parcher."
+
+"No, no!" Mrs. Baxter laughed. "Who ever could think of such a thing but
+you, Jane! You go to sleep and forget your nonsense!"
+
+Nevertheless, Jane might almost have been gifted with clairvoyance, her
+preposterous idea came so close to the actual fact, for at that very
+moment William was barking. He was not barking directly at Mr. Parcher,
+it is true, but within a short distance of him and all too well within
+his hearing.
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+MR. PARCHER AND LOVE
+
+Mr. Parcher, that unhappy gentleman, having been driven indoors from his
+own porch, had attempted to read Plutarch's Lives in the library, but,
+owing to the adjacency of the porch and the summer necessity for open
+windows, his escape spared only his eyes and not his suffering ears. The
+house was small, being but half of a double one, with small rooms, and
+the "parlor," library, and dining-room all about equally exposed to the
+porch which ran along the side of the house. Mr. Parcher had no refuge
+except bed or the kitchen, and as he was troubled with chronic insomnia,
+and the cook had callers in the kitchen, his case was desperate. Most
+unfortunately, too, his reading-lamp, the only one in the house, was a
+fixture near a window, and just beyond that window sat Miss Pratt and
+William in sweet unconsciousness, while Miss Parcher entertained the
+overflow (consisting of Mr. Johnnie Watson) at the other end of the
+porch. Listening perforce to the conversation of the former couple
+though "conversation" is far from the expression later used by Mr.
+Parcher to describe what he heard--he found it impossible to sit
+still in his chair. He jerked and twitched with continually increasing
+restlessness; sometimes he gasped, and other times he moaned a little,
+and there were times when he muttered huskily.
+
+"Oh, cute-ums!" came the silvery voice of Miss Pratt from the likewise
+silvery porch outside, underneath the summer moon. "Darlin' Flopit,
+look! Ickle boy Baxter goin' make imitations of darlin' Flopit again.
+See! Ickle boy Baxter puts head one side, then other side, just
+like darlin' Flopit. Then barks just like darlin' Flopit! Ladies and
+'entlemen, imitations of darlin' Flopit by ickle boy Baxter."
+
+"Berp-werp! Berp-werp!" came the voice of William Sylvanus Baxter.
+
+And in the library Plutarch's Lives moved convulsively, while with
+writhing lips Mr. Parcher muttered to himself.
+
+"More, more!" cried Miss Pratt, clapping her hands. "Do it again, ickle
+boy Baxter!"
+
+"Berp-werp! Berp-werp-werp!"
+
+"WORD!" muttered Mr. Parcher.
+
+Miss Pratt's voice became surcharged with honeyed wonder. "How did he
+learn such marv'lous, MARV'LOUS imitations of darlin' Flopit? He ought
+to go on the big, big stage and be a really actor, oughtn't he, darlin'
+Flopit? He could make milyums and milyums of dollardies, couldn't he,
+darlin' Flopit?"
+
+William's modest laugh disclaimed any great ambition for himself in this
+line. "Oh, I always could think up imitations of animals; things like
+that--but I hardly would care to--to adop' the stage for a career.
+Would--you?" (There was a thrill in his voice when he pronounced the
+ineffably significant word "you.")
+
+Miss Pratt became intensely serious.
+
+"It's my DREAM!" she said.
+
+William, seated upon a stool at her feet, gazed up at the amber head,
+divinely splashed by the rain of moonlight. The fire with which she
+spoke stirred him as few things had ever stirred him. He knew she had
+just revealed a side of herself which she reserved for only the chosen
+few who were capable of understanding her, and he fell into a hushed
+rapture. It seemed to him that there was a sacredness about this moment,
+and he sought vaguely for something to say that would live up to it and
+not be out of keeping. Then, like an inspiration, there came into his
+head some words he had read that day and thought beautiful. He had found
+them beneath an illustration in a magazine, and he spoke them almost
+instinctively.
+
+"It was wonderful of you to say that to me," he said. "I shall never
+forget it!"
+
+"It's my DREAM!" Miss Pratt exclaimed, again, with the same enthusiasm.
+"It's my DREAM."
+
+"You would make a glorious actress!" he said.
+
+At that her mood changed. She laughed a laugh like a sweet little girl's
+laugh (not Jane's) and, setting her rocking-chair in motion, cuddled the
+fuzzy white doglet in her arms. "Ickle boy Baxter t'yin' flatterbox us,
+tunnin' Flopit! No'ty, no'ty flatterbox!"
+
+"No, no!" William insisted, earnestly. "I mean it. But--but--"
+
+"But whatcums?"
+
+"What do you think about actors and actresses making love to each other
+on the stage? Do you think they have to really feel it, or do they just
+pretend?"
+
+"Well," said Miss Pratt, weightily, "sometimes one way, sometimes the
+other."
+
+William's gravity became more and more profound. "Yes, but how can they
+pretend like that? Don't you think love is a sacred thing, Cousin Lola?"
+
+Fictitious sisterships, brotherships, and cousinships are devices to
+push things along, well known to seventeen and even more advanced ages.
+On the wonderful evening of their first meeting William and Miss Pratt
+had cozily arranged to be called, respectively, "Ickle boy Baxter" and
+"Cousin Lola." (Thus they had broken down the tedious formalities of
+their first twenty minutes together.)
+
+"Don't you think love is sacred?" he repeated in the deepest tone of
+which his vocal cords were capable.
+
+"Ess," said Miss Pratt.
+
+"_I_ do!" William was emphatic. "I think love is the most sacred thing
+there is. I don't mean SOME kinds of love. I mean REAL love. You take
+some people, I don't believe they ever know what real love means. They
+TALK about it, maybe, but they don't understand it. Love is something
+nobody can understand unless they feel it and and if they don't
+understand it they don't feel it. Don't YOU think so?"
+
+"Ess."
+
+"Love," William continued, his voice lifting and thrilling to the great
+theme--"love is something nobody can ever have but one time in their
+lives, and if they don't have it then, why prob'ly they never will.
+Now, if a man REALLY loves a girl, why he'd do anything in the world she
+wanted him to. Don't YOU think so?"
+
+"Ess, 'deedums!" said the silvery voice.
+
+"But if he didn't, then he wouldn't," said William vehemently. "But when
+a man really loves a girl he will. Now, you take a man like that and
+he can generally do just about anything the girl he loves wants him
+to. Say, f'rinstance, she wants him to love her even more than he does
+already--or almost anything like that--and supposin' she asks him to.
+Well, he would go ahead and do it. If they really loved each other he
+would!"
+
+He paused a moment, then in a lowered tone he said, "I think REAL love
+is sacred, don't you?"
+
+"Ess."
+
+"Don't you think love is the most sacred thing there is--that is, if
+it's REAL love?"
+
+"Ess."
+
+"_I_ do," said William, warmly. "I--I'm glad you feel like that, because
+I think real love is the kind nobody could have but just once in their
+lives, but if it isn't REAL love, why--why most people never have it at
+all, because--" He paused, seeming to seek for the exact phrase which
+would express his meaning. "--Because the REAL love a man feels for a
+girl and a girl for a man, if they REALLY love each other, and, you look
+at a case like that, of course they would BOTH love each other, or it
+wouldn't be real love well, what _I_ say is, if it's REAL love, well,
+it's--it's sacred, because I think that kind of love is always sacred.
+Don't you think love is sacred if it's the real thing?"
+
+"Ess," said Miss Pratt. "Do Flopit again. Be Flopit!"
+
+"Berp-werp! Berp-werp-werp."
+
+And within the library an agonized man writhed and muttered:
+
+"WORD! WORD! WORD--"
+
+This hoarse repetition had become almost continuous.
+
+... But out on the porch, that little, jasmine-scented bower in
+Arcady where youth cried to youth and golden heads were haloed in the
+moonshine, there fell a silence. Not utter silence, for out there an
+ethereal music sounded constantly, unheard and forgotten by older ears.
+Time was when the sly playwrights used "incidental music" in their
+dramas; they knew that an audience would be moved so long as the music
+played; credulous while that crafty enchantment lasted. And when the
+galled Mr. Parcher wondered how those young people out on the porch
+could listen to each other and not die, it was because he did not
+hear and had forgotten the music that throbs in the veins of youth.
+Nevertheless, it may not be denied that despite his poor memory this man
+of fifty was deserving of a little sympathy.
+
+It was William who broke the silence. "How--" he began, and his voice
+trembled a little. "How--how do you--how do you think of me when I'm not
+with you?"
+
+"Think nice-cums," Miss Pratt responded. "Flopit an' me think
+nice-cums."
+
+"No," said William; "I mean what name do you have for me when you're
+when you're thinking about me?"
+
+Miss Pratt seemed to be puzzled, perhaps justifiably, and she made a
+cooing sound of interrogation.
+
+"I mean like this," William explained. "F'rinstance, when you first
+came, I always thought of you as 'Milady'--when I wrote that poem, you
+know."
+
+"Ess. Boo'fums."
+
+"But now I don't," he said. "Now I think of you by another name when I'm
+alone. It--it just sort of came to me. I was kind of just sitting around
+this afternoon, and I didn't know I was thinking about anything at all
+very much, and then all of a sudden I said it to myself out loud. It was
+about as strange a thing as I ever knew of. Don't YOU think so?"
+
+"Ess. It uz dest WEIRD!" she answered. "What ARE dat pitty names?"
+
+"I called you," said William, huskily and reverently, "I called you 'My
+Baby-Talk Lady.'"
+
+BANG!
+
+They were startled by a crash from within the library; a heavy weight
+seemed to have fallen (or to have been hurled) a considerable distance.
+Stepping to the window, William beheld a large volume lying in a
+distorted attitude at the foot of the wall opposite to that in which the
+reading-lamp was a fixture. But of all human life the room was empty;
+for Mr. Parcher had given up, and was now hastening to his bed in the
+last faint hope of saving his reason.
+
+His symptoms, however, all pointed to its having fled; and his wife,
+looking up from some computations in laundry charges, had but a vision
+of windmill gestures as he passed the door of her room. Then, not only
+for her, but for the inoffensive people who lived in the other half of
+the house, the closing of his own door took place in a really memorable
+manner.
+
+William, gazing upon the fallen Plutarch, had just offered the
+explanation, "Somebody must 'a' thrown it at a bug or something, I
+guess," when the second explosion sent its reverberations through the
+house.
+
+"My doodness!" Miss Pratt exclaimed, jumping up.
+
+William laughed reassuringly, remaining calm. "It's only a door blew
+shut up-stairs," he said "Let's sit down again--just the way we were?"
+
+Unfortunately for him, Mr. Joe Bullitt now made his appearance at the
+other end of the porch. Mr. Bullitt, though almost a year younger than
+either William or Johnnie Watson, was of a turbulent and masterful
+disposition. Moreover, in regard to Miss Pratt, his affections were
+in as ardent a state as those of his rivals, and he lacked Johnnie's
+meekness. He firmly declined to be shunted by Miss Parcher, who was
+trying to favor William's cause, according to a promise he had won of
+her by strong pleading. Regardless of her efforts, Mr. Bullitt descended
+upon William and his Baby-Talk-Lady, and received from the latter a
+honeyed greeting, somewhat to the former's astonishment and not at all
+to his pleasure.
+
+"Oh, goody-cute!" cried Miss Pratt. "Here's big Bruvva Josie-Joe!" And
+she lifted her little dog close to Mr. Bullitt's face, guiding one of
+Flopit's paws with her fingers. "Stroke big Bruvva Josie-Joe's pint
+teeks, darlin' Flopit." (Josie-Joe's pink cheeks were indicated by the
+expression "pint teeks," evidently, for her accompanying action was to
+pass Flopit's paw lightly over those glowing surfaces.) "'At's nice!"
+she remarked. "Stroke him gently, p'eshus Flopit, an' nen we'll coax him
+to make pitty singin' for us, like us did yestiday."
+
+She turned to William.
+
+"COAX him to make pitty singin'? I LOVE his voice--I'm dest CRAZY over
+it. Isn't oo?"
+
+William's passion for Mr. Bullitt's voice appeared to be under control.
+He laughed coldly, almost harshly. "Him sing?" he said. "Has he been
+tryin' to sing around HERE? I wonder the family didn't call for the
+police!"
+
+It was to be seen that Mr. Bullitt did not relish the sally. "Well, they
+will," he retorted, "if you ever spring one o' your solos on 'em!" And
+turning to Miss Pratt, he laughed loudly and bitterly. "You ought to
+hear Silly Bill sing--some time when you don't mind goin' to bed sick
+for a couple o' days!"
+
+Symptoms of truculence at once became alarmingly pronounced on both
+sides. William was naturally incensed, and as for Mr. Bullitt, he had
+endured a great deal from William every evening since Miss Pratt's
+arrival. William's evening clothes were hard enough for both Mr. Watson
+and Mr. Bullitt to bear, without any additional insolence on the part
+of the wearer. Big Bruvva Josie-Joe took a step toward his enemy and
+breathed audibly.
+
+"Let's ALL sing," the tactful Miss Pratt proposed, hastily. "Come on,
+May and Cousin Johnnie-Jump-Up," she called to Miss Parcher and Mr.
+Watson. "Singin'-school, dirls an' boys! Singin'-school! Ding, ding!
+Singin'-school bell's a-wingin'!"
+
+The diversion was successful. Miss Parcher and Mr. Watson joined the
+other group with alacrity, and the five young people were presently
+seated close together upon the steps of the porch, sending their voices
+out upon the air and up to Mr. Parcher's window in the song they found
+loveliest that summer.
+
+Miss Pratt carried the air. William also carried it part of the time
+and hunted for it the rest of the time, though never in silence. Miss
+Parcher "sang alto," Mr. Bullitt "sang bass," and Mr. Watson "sang
+tenor"--that is, he sang as high as possible, often making the top sound
+of a chord and always repeating the last phrase of each line before the
+others finished it. The melody was a little too sweet, possibly; while
+the singers thought so highly of the words that Mr. Parcher missed not
+one, especially as the vocal rivalry between Josie-Joe and Ickle Boy
+Baxter incited each of them to prevent Miss Pratt from hearing the
+other.
+
+William sang loudest of all; Mr. Parcher had at no time any difficulty
+in recognizing his voice.
+
+          "Oh, I love my love in the morning
+               And I love my love at night,
+          I love my love in the dawning,
+               And when the stars are bright.
+          Some may love the sunshine,
+               Others may love the dew.
+          Some may love the raindrops,
+               But I love only you-OO-oo!
+                    By the stars up above
+                    It is you I luh-HUV!
+               Yes, _I_ love own-LAY you!"
+
+They sang it four times; then Mr. Bullitt sang his solo, "Tell her, O
+Golden Moon, how I Adore her," William following with "The violate loves
+the cowslip, but _I_ love YEW," and after that they all sang, "Oh, I
+love my love in the morning," again.
+
+All this while that they sang of love, Mr. Parcher was moving to and fro
+upon his bed, not more than eighteen feet in an oblique upward-slanting
+line from the heads of the serenaders. Long, long he tossed, listening
+to the young voices singing of love; long, long he thought of love, and
+many, many times he spoke of it aloud, though he was alone in the room.
+And in thus speaking of it, he would give utterance to phrases and
+words probably never before used in connection with love since the world
+began.
+
+His thoughts, and, at intervals, his mutterings, continued to be active
+far into the night, long after the callers had gone, and though his
+household and the neighborhood were at rest, with never a katydid
+outside to rail at the waning moon. And by a coincidence not more
+singular than most coincidences, it happened that at just about the time
+he finally fell asleep, a young lady at no great distance from him awoke
+to find her self thinking of him.
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+BEGINNING A TRUE FRIENDSHIP
+
+This was Miss Jane Baxter. She opened her eyes upon the new-born day,
+and her first thoughts were of Mr. Parcher. That is, he was already
+in her mind when she awoke, a circumstance to be accounted for on the
+ground that his conversation, during her quiet convalescence in his
+library, had so fascinated her that in all likelihood she had been
+dreaming of him. Then, too, Jane and Mr. Parcher had a bond in common,
+though Mr. Parcher did not know it. Not without result had William
+repeated Miss Pratt's inquiry in Jane's hearing: "Who IS that curious
+child?" Jane had preserved her sang-froid, but the words remained with
+her, for she was one of those who ponder and retain in silence.
+
+She thought almost exclusively of Mr. Parcher until breakfast-time, and
+resumed her thinking of him at intervals during the morning. Then, in
+the afternoon, a series of quiet events not unconnected with William's
+passion caused her to think of Mr. Parcher more poignantly than ever;
+nor was her mind diverted to a different channel by another confidential
+conversation with her mother. Who can say, then, that it was not by
+design that she came face to face with Mr. Parcher on the public highway
+at about five o'clock that afternoon? Everything urges the belief that
+she deliberately set herself in his path.
+
+Mr. Parcher was walking home from his office, and he walked slowly,
+gulping from time to time, as he thought of the inevitable evening
+before him. His was not a rugged constitution, and for the last
+fortnight or so he had feared that it was giving way altogether. Each
+evening he felt that he was growing weaker, and sometimes he thought
+piteously that he might go away for a while. He did not much care where,
+though what appealed to him most, curiously enough, was not the thought
+of the country, with the flowers and little birds; no, what allured him
+was the idea that perhaps he could find lodgment for a time in an Old
+People's Home, where the minimum age for inmates was about eighty.
+
+Walking more and more slowly, as he approached the dwelling he had once
+thought of as home, he became aware of a little girl in a checkered
+dress approaching him at a gait varied by the indifferent behavior of
+a barrel-hoop which she was disciplining with a stick held in her
+right hand. When the hoop behaved well, she came ahead rapidly; when it
+affected to be intoxicated, which was most often its whim, she zigzagged
+with it, and gained little ground. But all the while, and without
+reference to what went on concerning the hoop, she slowly and
+continuously fed herself (with her left hand) small, solemnly relished
+bites of a slice of bread-and-butter covered with apple sauce and
+powdered sugar.
+
+Mr. Parcher looked upon her, and he shivered slightly; for he knew her
+to be Willie Baxter's sister.
+
+Unaware of the emotion she produced in him, Jane checked her hoop and
+halted.
+
+"G'd afternoon, Mister Parcher," she said, gravely.
+
+"Good afternoon," he returned, without much spirit.
+
+Jane looked up at him trustfully and with a strange, unconscious
+fondness. "You goin' home now, Mr. Parcher?" she asked, turning to
+walk at his side. She had suspended the hoop over her left arm and
+transferred the bread-and-butter and apple sauce and sugar to her right,
+so that she could eat even more conveniently than before.
+
+"I suppose so," he murmured.
+
+"My brother Willie's been at your house all afternoon," she remarked.
+
+He repeated, "I suppose so," but in a tone which combined the vocal
+tokens of misery and of hopeless animosity.
+
+"He just went home," said Jane. "I was 'cross the street from your
+house, but I guess he didn't see me. He kept lookin' back at your house.
+Miss Pratt was on the porch."
+
+"I suppose so." This time it was a moan.
+
+Jane proceeded to give him some information. "My brother Willie isn't
+comin' back to your house to-night, but he doesn't know it yet."
+
+"What!" exclaimed Mr. Parcher.
+
+"Willie isn't goin' to spend any more evenings at your house at all,"
+said Jane, thoughtfully. "He isn't, but he doesn't know it yet."
+
+Mr. Parcher gazed fixedly at the wonderful child, and something like
+a ray of sunshine flickered over his seamed and harried face. "Are you
+SURE he isn't?" he said. "What makes you think so?"
+
+"I know he isn't," said demure Jane. "It's on account of somep'm I told
+mamma."
+
+And upon this a gentle glow began to radiate throughout Mr. Parcher. A
+new feeling budded within his bosom; he was warmly attracted to Jane.
+She was evidently a child to be cherished, and particularly to be
+encouraged in the line of conduct she seemed to have adopted. He wished
+the Bullitt and Watson families each had a little girl like this. Still,
+if what she said of William proved true, much had been gained and life
+might be tolerable, after all.
+
+"He'll come in the afternoons, I guess," said Jane. "But you aren't
+home then, Mr. Parcher, except late like you were that day of the
+Sunday-school class. It was on account of what you said that day. I told
+mamma."
+
+"Told your mamma what?"
+
+"What you said."
+
+Mr. Parcher's perplexity continued. "What about?"
+
+"About Willie. YOU know!" Jane smiled fraternally.
+
+"No, I don't."
+
+"It was when I was layin' in the liberry, that day of the Sunday-school
+class," Jane told him. "You an' Mrs. Parcher was talkin' in there about
+Miss Pratt an' Willie an' everything."
+
+"Good heavens!" Mr. Parcher, summoning his memory, had placed the
+occasion and Jane together. "Did you HEAR all that?"
+
+"Yes." Jane nodded. "I told mamma all what you said."
+
+"Murder!"
+
+"Well," said Jane, "I guess it's good I did, because look--that's the
+very reason mamma did somep'm so's he can't come any more except in
+daytime. I guess she thought Willie oughtn't to behave so's't you said
+so many things about him like that; so to-day she did somep'm, an' now
+he can't come any more to behave that loving way of Miss Pratt that you
+said you would be in the lunatic asylum if he didn't quit. But he hasn't
+found it out yet."
+
+"Found what out, please?" asked Mr. Parcher, feeling more affection for
+Jane every moment.
+
+"He hasn't found out he can't come back to your house to-night; an' he
+can't come back to-morrow night, nor day-after-to-morrow night, nor--"
+
+"Is it because your mamma is going to tell him he can't?"
+
+"No, Mr. Parcher. Mamma says he's too old--an' she said she didn't like
+to, anyway. She just DID somep'm."
+
+"What? What did she do?"
+
+"It's a secret," said Jane. "I could tell you the first part of it--up
+to where the secret begins, I expect."
+
+"Do!" Mr. Parcher urged.
+
+"Well, it's about somep'm Willie's been WEARIN'," Jane began, moving
+closer to him as they slowly walked onward. "I can't tell you what they
+were, because that's the secret--but he had 'em on him every evening
+when he came to see Miss Pratt, but they belong to papa, an' papa
+doesn't know a word about it. Well, one evening papa wanted to put 'em
+on, because he had a right to, Mr. Parcher, an' Willie didn't have any
+right to at all, but mamma couldn't find 'em; an' she rummidged an'
+rummidged 'most all next day an' pretty near every day since then an'
+never did find 'em, until don't you believe I saw Willie inside of 'em
+only last night! He was startin' over to your house to see Miss Pratt in
+'em! So I told mamma, an' she said it 'd haf to be a secret, so that's
+why I can't tell you what they were. Well, an' then this afternoon,
+early, I was with her, an' she said, long as I had told her the secret
+in the first place, I could come in Willie's room with her, an' we both
+were already in there anyway, 'cause I was kind of thinkin' maybe she'd
+go in there to look for 'em, Mr. Parcher--"
+
+"I see," he said, admiringly. "I see."
+
+"Well, they were under Willie's window-seat, all folded up; an' mamma
+said she wondered what she better do, an' she was worried because she
+didn't like to have Willie behave so's you an' Mrs. Parcher thought that
+way about him. So she said the--the secret--what Willie wears, you
+know, but they're really papa's an' aren't Willie's any more'n they're
+MINE--well, she said the secret was gettin' a little teeny bit too tight
+for papa, but she guessed they--I mean the secret--she said she guessed
+it was already pretty loose for Willie; so she wrapped it up, an' I
+went with her, an' we took 'em to a tailor, an' she told him to make 'em
+bigger, for a surprise for papa, 'cause then they'll fit him again, Mr.
+Parcher. She said he must make 'em a whole lot bigger. She said he must
+let 'em way, WAY out! So I guess Willie would look too funny in 'em
+after they're fixed; an' anyway, Mr. Parcher, the secret won't be home
+from the tailor's for two weeks, an' maybe by that time Miss Pratt'll be
+gone."
+
+They had reached Mr. Parcher's gate; he halted and looked down fondly
+upon this child who seemed to have read his soul. "Do you honestly think
+so?" he asked.
+
+"Well, anyway, Mr. Parcher," said Jane, "mamma said--well, she said
+she's sure Willie wouldn't come here in the evening any more when YOU're
+at home, Mr. Parcher--'cause after he'd been wearin' the secret every
+night this way he wouldn't like to come and not have the secret on.
+Mamma said the reason he would feel like that was because he was
+seventeen years old. An' she isn't goin' to tell him anything about it,
+Mr. Parcher. She said that's the best way."
+
+Her new friend nodded and seemed to agree. "I suppose that's what you
+meant when you said he wasn't coming back but didn't know it yet?"
+
+"Yes, Mr. Parcher."
+
+He rested an elbow upon the gate-post, gazing down with ever-increasing
+esteem. "Of course I know your last name," he said, "but I'm afraid I've
+forgotten your other one."
+
+"It's Jane."
+
+"Jane," said Mr. Parcher, "I should like to do something for you."
+
+Jane looked down, and with eyes modestly lowered she swallowed the last
+fragment of the bread-and-butter and apple sauce and sugar which had
+been the constantly evanescent companion of their little walk together.
+She was not mercenary; she had sought no reward.
+
+"Well, I guess I must run home," she said. And with one lift of her
+eyes to his and a shy laugh--laughter being a rare thing for Jane--she
+scampered quickly to the corner and was gone.
+
+But though she cared for no reward, the extraordinary restlessness of
+William, that evening, after dinner, must at least have been of great
+interest to her. He ascended to his own room directly from the table,
+but about twenty minutes later came down to the library, where Jane
+was sitting (her privilege until half after seven) with her father and
+mother. William looked from one to the other of his parents and seemed
+about to speak, but did not do so. Instead, he departed for the upper
+floor again and presently could be heard moving about energetically in
+various parts of the house, a remote thump finally indicating that he
+was doing something with a trunk in the attic.
+
+After that he came down to the library again and once more seemed about
+to speak, but did not. Then he went up-stairs again, and came down
+again, and he was still repeating this process when Jane's time-limit
+was reached and she repaired conscientiously to her little bed. Her
+mother came to hear her prayers and to turn out the light; and--when
+Mrs. Baxter had passed out into the hall, after that, Jane heard
+her speaking to William, who was now conducting what seemed to be
+excavations on a serious scale in his own room.
+
+"Oh, Willie, perhaps I didn't tell you, but--you remember I'd been
+missing papa's evening clothes and looking everywhere for days and
+days?"
+
+"Ye--es," huskily from William.
+
+"Well, I found them! And where do you suppose I'd put them? I found
+them under your window-seat. Can you think of anything more absurd than
+putting them there and then forgetting it? I took them to the tailor's
+to have them let out. They were getting too tight for papa, but they'll
+be all right for him when the tailor sends them back."
+
+What the stricken William gathered from this it is impossible to state
+with accuracy; probably he mixed some perplexity with his emotions.
+Certainly he was perplexed the following evening at dinner.
+
+Jane did not appear at the table. "Poor child! she's sick in bed," Mrs.
+Baxter explained to her husband. "I was out, this afternoon, and she ate
+nearly ALL of a five-pound box of candy."
+
+Both the sad-eyed William and his father were dumfounded. "Where on
+earth did she get a five-pound box of candy?" Mr. Baxter demanded.
+
+"I'm afraid Jane has begun her first affair," said Mrs. Baxter. "A
+gentleman sent it to her."
+
+"What gentleman?" gasped William.
+
+And in his mother's eyes, as they slowly came to rest on his in reply,
+he was aware of an inscrutability strongly remindful of that inscrutable
+look of Jane's.
+
+"Mr. Parcher," she said, gently.
+
+
+
+
+XII
+
+PROGRESS OF THE SYMPTOMS
+
+Mrs. BAXTER'S little stroke of diplomacy had gone straight to the mark,
+she was a woman of insight. For every reason she was well content to
+have her son spend his evenings at home, though it cannot be claimed
+that his presence enlivened the household, his condition being one of
+strange, trancelike irascibility. Evening after evening passed, while
+he sat dreaming painfully of Mr. Parcher's porch; but in the daytime,
+though William did not literally make hay while the sun shone, he at
+least gathered a harvest somewhat resembling hay in general character.
+
+Thus:
+
+One afternoon, having locked his door to secure himself against
+intrusion on the part of his mother or Jane, William seated himself at
+his writing-table, and from a drawer therein took a small cardboard box,
+which he uncovered, placing the contents in view before him upon the
+table. (How meager, how chilling a word is "contents"!) In the box were:
+
+A faded rose.
+
+Several other faded roses, disintegrated into leaves.
+
+Three withered "four-leaf clovers."
+
+A white ribbon still faintly smelling of violets.
+
+A small silver shoe-buckle.
+
+A large pearl button.
+
+A small pearl button.
+
+A tortoise-shell hair-pin.
+
+A cross-section from the heel of a small slipper.
+
+A stringy remnant, probably once an improvised wreath of daisies.
+
+Four or five withered dandelions.
+
+Other dried vegetation, of a nature now indistinguishable.
+
+William gazed reverently upon this junk of precious souvenirs; then
+from the inner pocket of his coat he brought forth, warm and crumpled,
+a lumpish cluster of red geranium blossoms, still aromatic and not quite
+dead, though naturally, after three hours of such intimate confinement,
+they wore an unmistakable look of suffering. With a tenderness which
+his family had never observed in him since that piteous day in his fifth
+year when he tried to mend his broken doll, William laid the geranium
+blossoms in the cardboard box among the botanical and other relics.
+
+His gentle eyes showed what the treasures meant to him, and yet it
+was strange that they should have meant so much, because the source of
+supply was not more than a quarter of a mile distant, and practically
+inexhaustible. Miss Pratt had now been a visitor at the Parchers'
+for something less than five weeks, but she had made no mention of
+prospective departure, and there was every reason to suppose that she
+meant to remain all summer. And as any foliage or anything whatever that
+she touched, or that touched her, was thenceforth suitable for William's
+museum, there appeared to be some probability that autumn might see it
+so enlarged as to lack that rarity in the component items which is the
+underlying value of most collections.
+
+William's writing-table was beside an open window, through which came an
+insistent whirring, unagreeable to his mood; and, looking down upon the
+sunny lawn, he beheld three lowly creatures. One was Genesis; he was
+cutting the grass. Another was Clematis; he had assumed a transient
+attitude, curiously triangular, in order to scratch his ear, the while
+his anxious eyes never wavered from the third creature.
+
+This was Jane. In one hand she held a little stack of sugar-sprinkled
+wafers, which she slowly but steadily depleted, unconscious of the
+increasingly earnest protest, at last nearing agony, in the eyes of
+Clematis. Wearing unaccustomed garments of fashion and festivity,
+Jane stood, in speckless, starchy white and a blue sash, watching
+the lawn-mower spout showers of grass as the powerful Genesis easily
+propelled it along over lapping lanes, back and forth, across the yard.
+
+From a height of illimitable loftiness the owner of the cardboard
+treasury looked down upon the squat commonplaceness of those three
+lives. The condition of Jane and Genesis and Clematis seemed almost
+laughably pitiable to him, the more so because they were unaware of it.
+They breathed not the starry air that William breathed, but what did it
+matter to them? The wretched things did not even know that they meant
+nothing to Miss Pratt!
+
+Clematis found his ear too pliable for any great solace from his foot,
+but he was not disappointed; he had expected little, and his thoughts
+were elsewhere. Rising, he permitted his nose to follow his troubled
+eyes, with the result that it touched the rim of the last wafer in
+Jane's external possession.
+
+This incident annoyed William. "Look there!" he called from the window.
+"You mean to eat that cake after the dog's had his face on it?"
+
+Jane remained placid. "It wasn't his face."
+
+"Well, if it wasn't his face, I'd like to know what--"
+
+"It wasn't his face," Jane repeated. "It was his nose. It wasn't all of
+his nose touched it, either. It was only a little outside piece of his
+nose."
+
+"Well, are you going to eat that cake, I ask you?"
+
+Jane broke off a small bit of the wafer. She gave the bit to Clematis
+and slowly ate what remained, continuing to watch Genesis and apparently
+unconscious of the scorching gaze from the window.
+
+"I never saw anything as disgusting as long as I've lived!" William
+announced. "I wouldn't 'a' believed it if anybody'd told me a sister of
+mine would eat after--"
+
+"I didn't," said Jane. "I like Clematis, anyway."
+
+"Ye gods!" her brother cried. "Do you think that makes it any better?
+And, BY the WAY," he continued, in a tone of even greater severity, "I'd
+a like to know where you got those cakes. Where'd you get 'em, I'd just
+like to inquire?"
+
+"In the pantry." Jane turned and moved toward the house. "I'm goin' in
+for some more, now."
+
+William uttered a cry; these little cakes were sacred. His mother,
+growing curious to meet a visiting lady of whom (so to speak) she had
+heard much and thought more, had asked May Parcher to bring her guest
+for iced tea, that afternoon. A few others of congenial age had been
+invited: there was to be a small matinee, in fact, for the honor and
+pleasure of the son of the house, and the cakes of Jane's onslaught
+were part of Mrs. Baxter's preparations. There was no telling where
+Jane would stop; it was conceivable that Miss Pratt herself might go
+waferless.
+
+William returned the cardboard box to its drawer with reverent haste;
+then, increasing the haste, but dropping the reverence, he hied himself
+to the pantry with such advantage of longer legs that within the minute
+he and the wafers appeared in conjunction before his mother, who was
+arranging fruit and flowers upon a table in the "living-room."
+
+William entered in the stained-glass attitude of one bearing gifts.
+Overhead, both hands supported a tin pan, well laden with small
+cakes and wafers, for which Jane was silently but repeatedly and
+systematically jumping. Even under the stress of these efforts her
+expression was cool and collected; she maintained the self-possession
+that was characteristic of her.
+
+Not so with William; his cheeks were flushed, his eyes indignant. "You
+see what this child is doing?" he demanded. "Are you going to let her
+ruin everything?"
+
+"Ruin?" Mrs. Baxter repeated, absently, refreshing with fair water a
+bowl of flowers upon the table. "Ruin?"
+
+"Yes, ruin!" William was hotly emphatic, "If you don't do something with
+her it 'll all be ruined before Miss Pr-- before they even get here!"
+
+Mrs. Baxter laughed. "Set the pan down, Willie."
+
+"Set it DOWN?" he echoed, incredulously "With that child in the room and
+grabbing like--"
+
+"There!" Mrs. Baxter took the pan from him, placed it upon a chair, and
+with the utmost coolness selected five wafers and gave them to Jane.
+"I'd already promised her she could have five more. You know the doctor
+said Jane's digestion was the finest he'd ever misunderstood. They won't
+hurt her at all, Willie."
+
+This deliberate misinterpretation of his motives made it difficult for
+William to speak. "Do YOU think," he began, hoarsely, "do you THINK--"
+
+"They're so small, too," Mrs. Baxter went on. "SHE probably wouldn't be
+sick if she ate them all."
+
+"My heavens!" he burst forth. "Do you think I was worrying about--" He
+broke off, unable to express himself save by a few gestures of despair.
+Again finding his voice, and a great deal of it, he demanded: "Do you
+realize that Miss PRATT will be here within less than half an hour? What
+do you suppose she'd think of the people of this town if she was invited
+out, expecting decent treatment, and found two-thirds of the cakes eaten
+up before she got there, and what was left of 'em all mauled and pawed
+over and crummy and chewed-up lookin' from some wretched CHILD?" Here
+William became oratorical, but not with marked effect, since Jane
+regarded him with unmoved eyes, while Mrs. Baxter continued to be mildly
+preoccupied in arranging the table. In fact, throughout this episode
+in controversy the ladies' party had not only the numerical but the
+emotional advantage. Obviously, the approach of Miss Pratt was not to
+them what it was to William. "I tell you," he declaimed;--"yes, I tell
+you that it wouldn't take much of this kind of thing to make Miss Pratt
+think the people of this town were--well, it wouldn't take much to make
+her think the people of this town hadn't learned much of how to
+behave in society and were pretty uncilivized!" He corrected himself.
+"Uncivilized! And to think Miss Pratt has to find that out in MY house!
+To think--"
+
+"Now, Willie," said Mrs. Baxter, gently, "you'd better go up and brush
+your hair again before your friends come. You mustn't let yourself get
+so excited."
+
+"'Excited!'" he cried, incredulously. "Do you think I'm EXCITED?
+Ye gods!" He smote his hands together and, in his despair of her
+intelligence, would have flung himself down upon a chair, but was
+arrested half-way by simultaneous loud outcries from his mother and
+Jane.
+
+"Don't sit on the CAKES!" they both screamed.
+
+Saving himself and the pan of wafers by a supreme contortion at the last
+instant, William decided to remain upon his feet. "What do I care for
+the cakes?" he demanded, contemptuously, beginning to pace the floor.
+"It's the question of principle I'm talking about! Do you think it's
+right to give the people of this town a poor name when strangers like
+Miss PRATT come to vis--"
+
+"Willie!" His mother looked at him hopelessly. "Do go and brush your
+hair. If you could see how you've tousled it you would."
+
+He gave her a dazed glance and strode from the room.
+
+Jane looked after him placidly. "Didn't he talk funny!" she murmured.
+
+"Yes, dear," said Mrs. Baxter. She shook her head and uttered the
+enigmatic words, "They do."
+
+"I mean Willie, mamma," said Jane. "If it's anything about Miss Pratt.
+he always talks awful funny. Don't you think Willie talks awful funny if
+it's anything about Miss Pratt, mamma?"
+
+"Yes, but--"
+
+"What, mamma?" Jane asked as her mother paused.
+
+"Well--it happens. People do get like that at his age, Jane."
+
+"Does everybody?"
+
+"No, I suppose not everybody. Just some."
+
+Jane's interest was roused. "Well, do those that do, mamma," she
+inquired, "do they all act like Willie?"
+
+"No," said Mrs. Baxter. "That's the trouble; you can't tell what's
+coming."
+
+Jane nodded. "I think I know," she said. "You mean Willie--"
+
+William himself interrupted her. He returned violently to the doorway,
+his hair still tousled, and, standing upon the threshold, said, sternly:
+
+"What is that child wearing her best dress for?"
+
+"Willie!" Mrs. Baxter cried. "Go brush your hair!"
+
+"I wish to know what that child is all dressed up for?" he insisted.
+
+"To please you! Don't you want her to look her best at your tea?"
+
+"I thought that was it!" he cried, and upon this confirmation of his
+worst fears he did increased violence to his rumpled hair. "I suspected
+it, but I wouldn't 'a' believed it! You mean to let this child--you
+mean to let--" Here his agitation affected his throat and his utterance
+became clouded. A few detached phrases fell from him: "--Invite MY
+friends--children's party--ye gods!--think Miss Pratt plays dolls--"
+
+"Jane will be very good," his mother said. "I shouldn't think of not
+having her, Willie, and you needn't bother about your friends; they'll
+be very glad to see her. They all know her, except Miss Pratt, perhaps,
+and--" Mrs. Baxter paused; then she asked, absently: "By the way,
+haven't I heard somewhere that she likes pretending to be a little girl,
+herself?"
+
+"WHAT!"
+
+"Yes," said Mrs. Baxter, remaining calm; "I'm sure I've heard somewhere
+that she likes to talk 'baby-talk.'"
+
+Upon this a tremor passed over William, after which he became rigid.
+"You ask a lady to your house," he began, "and even before she gets
+here, before you've even seen her, you pass judgment upon one of
+the--one of the noblest--"
+
+"Good gracious! _I_ haven't 'passed judgment.' If she does talk
+'baby-talk,' I imagine she does it very prettily, and I'm sure I've
+no objection. And if she does do it, why should you be insulted by my
+mentioning it?"
+
+"It was the way you said it," he informed her, icily.
+
+"Good gracious! I just said it!" Mrs. Baxter laughed, and then,
+probably a little out of patience with him, she gave way to that innate
+mischievousness in such affairs which is not unknown to her sex. "You
+see, Willie, if she pretends to be a cunning little girl, it will be
+helpful to Jane to listen and learn how."
+
+William uttered a cry; he knew that he was struck, but he was not sure
+how or where. He was left with a blank mind and no repartee. Again he
+dashed from the room.
+
+In the hall, near the open front door, he came to a sudden halt,
+and Mrs. Baxter and Jane heard him calling loudly to the industrious
+Genesis:
+
+"Here! You go cut the grass in the back yard, and for Heaven's sake,
+take that dog with you!"
+
+"Grass awready cut roun' back," responded the amiable voice of Genesis,
+while the lawnmower ceased not to whir. "Cut all 'at back yod 's
+mawnin'."
+
+"Well, you can't cut the front yard now. Go around in the back yard and
+take that dog with you."
+
+"Nemmine 'bout 'at back yod! Ole Clem ain' trouble nobody."
+
+"You hear what I tell you?" William shouted. "You do what I say and you
+do it quick!"
+
+Genesis laughed gaily. "I got my grass to cut!"
+
+"You decline to do what I command you?" William roared.
+
+"Yes, indeedy! Who pay me my wages? 'At's MY boss. You' ma say,
+'Genesis, you git all 'at lawn mowed b'fo' sundown.' No, suh! Nee'n'
+was'e you' bref on me, 'cause I'm got all MY time good an' took up!"
+
+Once more William presented himself fatefully to his mother and Jane.
+"May I just kindly ask you to look out in the front yard?"
+
+"I'm familiar with it, Willie," Mrs. Baxter returned, a little wearily.
+
+"I mean I want you to look at Genesis."
+
+"I'm familiar with his appearance, too," she said. "Why in the world do
+you mind his cutting the grass?"
+
+William groaned. "Do you honestly want guests coming to this house
+to see that awful old darky out there and know that HE'S the kind of
+servants we employ? Ye gods!"
+
+"Why, Genesis is just a neighborhood outdoors darky, Willie; he works
+for half a dozen families besides us. Everybody in this part of town
+knows him."
+
+"Yes," he cried, "but a lady that didn't live here wouldn't. Ye gods!
+What do you suppose she WOULD think? You know what he's got on!"
+
+"It's a sort of sleeveless jersey he wears, Willie, I think."
+
+"No, you DON'T think that!" he cried, with great bitterness. "You know
+it's not a jersey! You know perfectly well what it is, and yet you
+expect to keep him out there when--when one of the one of the nobl--when
+my friends arrive! And they'll think that's our DOG out there, won't
+they? When intelligent people come to a house and see a dog sitting out
+in front, they think it's the family in the house's dog, don't they?"
+William's condition becoming more and more disordered, he paced the
+room, while his agony rose to a climax. "Ye gods! What do you think Miss
+Pratt will think of the people of this town, when she's invited to meet
+a few of my friends and the first thing she sees is a nigger in his
+undershirt? What 'll she think when she finds that child's eaten up half
+the food, and the people have to explain that the dog in the front
+yard belongs to the darky--" He interrupted himself with a groan: "And
+prob'ly she wouldn't believe it. Anybody'd SAY they didn't own a dog
+like that! And that's what you want her to see, before she even gets
+inside the house! Instead of a regular gardener in livery like we ought
+to have, and a bulldog or a good Airedale or a fox-hound, or something,
+the first things you want intelligent people from out of town to see are
+that awful old darky and his mongrel scratchin' fleas and like as not
+lettin' 'em get on other people! THAT'd be nice, wouldn't it? Go out to
+tea expecting decent treatment and get fl--"
+
+"WILLIE!"
+
+Mrs. Baxter managed to obtain his attention. "If you'll go and brush
+your hair I'll send Genesis and Clematis away for the rest of the
+afternoon. And then if you 'll sit down quietly and try to keep cool
+until your friends get here, I'll--"
+
+"'Quietly'!" he echoed, shaking his head over this mystery. "I'm the
+only one that IS quiet around here. Things 'd be in a fine condition to
+receive guests if I didn't keep pretty cool, I guess!"
+
+"There, there," she said, soothingly. "Go and brush your hair. And
+change your collar, Willie; it's all wilted. I'll send Genesis away."
+
+His wandering eye failed to meet hers with any intelligence. "Collar,"
+he muttered, as if in soliloquy. "Collar."
+
+"Change it!" said Mrs. Baxter, raising her voice. "It's WILTED."
+
+He departed in a dazed manner.
+
+Passing through the hall, he paused abruptly, his eye having fallen
+with sudden disapproval upon a large, heavily framed, glass-covered
+engraving, "The Battle of Gettysburg," which hung upon the wall, near
+the front door. Undeniably, it was a picture feeble in decorative
+quality; no doubt, too, William was right in thinking it as unworthy of
+Miss Pratt, as were Jane and Genesis and Clematis. He felt that she must
+never see it, especially as the frame had been chipped and had a corner
+broken, but it was more pleasantly effective where he found it than
+where (in his nervousness) he left it. A few hasty jerks snapped the
+elderly green cords by which it was suspended; then he laid the picture
+upon the floor and with his handkerchief made a curious labyrinth
+of avenues in the large oblong area of fine dust which this removal
+disclosed upon the wall. Pausing to wipe his hot brow with the same
+implement, he remembered that some one had made allusions to his collar
+and hair, whereupon he sprang to the stairs, mounted two at a time,
+rushed into his own room, and confronted his streaked image in the
+mirror.
+
+
+
+
+XIII
+
+AT HOME TO HIS FRIENDS
+
+After ablutions, he found his wet hair plastic, and easily obtained the
+long, even sweep backward from the brow, lacking which no male person,
+unless bald, fulfilled his definition of a man of the world. But
+there ensued a period of vehemence and activity caused by a bent
+collar-button, which went on strike with a desperation that was
+downright savage. The day was warm and William was warmer; moisture
+bedewed him afresh. Belated victory no sooner arrived than he perceived
+a fatal dimpling of the new collar, and was forced to begin the
+operation of exchanging it for a successor. Another exchange, however,
+he unfortunately forgot to make: the handkerchief with which he had
+wiped the wall remained in his pocket.
+
+Voices from below, making polite laughter, warned him that already some
+of the bidden party had arrived, and, as he completed the fastening of
+his third consecutive collar, an ecstasy of sound reached him through
+the open window--and then, Oh then! his breath behaved in an abnormal
+manner and he began to tremble. It was the voice of Miss Pratt, no less!
+
+He stopped for one heart-struck look from his casement. All in fluffy
+white and heliotrope she was--a blonde rapture floating over the
+sidewalk toward William's front gate. Her little white cottony dog, with
+a heliotrope ribbon round his neck, bobbed his head over her cuddling
+arm; a heliotrope parasol shielded her infinitesimally from the amorous
+sun. Poor William!
+
+Two youths entirely in William's condition of heart accompanied the
+glamorous girl and hung upon her rose-leaf lips, while Miss Parcher
+appeared dimly upon the outskirts of the group, the well-known penalty
+for hostesses who entertain such radiance. Probably it serves them
+right.
+
+To William's reddening ear Miss Pratt's voice came clearly as the
+chiming of tiny bells, for she spoke whimsically to her little dog in
+that tinkling childlike fashion which was part of the spell she cast.
+
+"Darlin' Flopit," she said, "wake up! Oo tummin' to tea-potty wiz all de
+drowed-ups. P'eshus Flopit, wake up!"
+
+Dizzy with enchantment, half suffocated, his heart melting within him,
+William turned from the angelic sounds and fairy vision of the window.
+He ran out of the room, and plunged down the front stairs. And the next
+moment the crash of breaking glass and the loud thump-bump of a heavily
+falling human body resounded through the house.
+
+Mrs. Baxter, alarmed, quickly excused herself from the tea-table, round
+which were gathered four or five young people, and hastened to the front
+hall, followed by Jane. Through the open door were seen Miss Pratt, Miss
+Parcher, Mr. Johnnie Watson and Mr. Joe Bullitt coming leisurely up the
+sunny front walk, laughing and unaware of the catastrophe which had just
+occurred within the shadows of the portal. And at a little distance from
+the foot of the stairs William was seated upon the prostrate "Battle of
+Gettysburg."
+
+"It slid," he said, hoarsely. "I carried it upstairs with me"--he
+believed this--"and somebody brought it down and left it lying flat on
+the floor by the bottom step on purpose to trip me! I stepped on it and
+it slid." He was in a state of shock: it seemed important to impress
+upon his mother the fact that the picture had not remained firmly in
+place when he stepped upon it. "It SLID, I tell you!"
+
+"Get up, Willie!" she urged, under her breath, and as he summoned
+enough presence of mind to obey, she beheld ruins other than the wrecked
+engraving. She stifled a cry. "WILLIE! Did the glass cut you?"
+
+He felt himself. "No'm."
+
+"It did your trousers! You'll have to change them. Hurry!"
+
+Some of William's normal faculties were restored to him by one hasty
+glance at the back of his left leg, which had a dismantled appearance. A
+long blue strip of cloth hung there, with white showing underneath.
+
+"HURRY!" said Mrs. Baxter. And hastily gathering some fragments of
+glass, she dropped them upon the engraving, pushed it out of the way,
+and went forward to greet Miss Pratt and her attendants.
+
+As for William, he did not even pause to close his mouth, but fled with
+it open. Upward he sped, unseen, and came to a breathless halt upon the
+landing at the top of the stairs.
+
+As it were in a dream he heard his mother's hospitable greetings at the
+door, and then the little party lingered in the hall, detained by Miss
+Pratt's discovery of Jane.
+
+"Oh, tweetums tootums ickle dirl!" he heard the ravishing voice exclaim.
+"Oh, tootums ickle blue sash!"
+
+"It cost a dollar and eighty-nine cents," said Jane. "Willie sat on the
+cakes."
+
+"Oh no, he didn't," Mrs. Baxter laughed. "He didn't QUITE!"
+
+"He had to go up-stairs," said Jane. And as the stricken listener above
+smote his forehead, she added placidly, "He tore a hole in his clo'es."
+
+She seemed about to furnish details, her mood being communicative, but
+Mrs. Baxter led the way into the "living-room"; the hall was vacated,
+and only the murmur of voices and laughter reached William. What
+descriptive information Jane may have added was spared his hearing,
+which was a mercy.
+
+And yet it may be that he could not have felt worse than he did; for
+there IS nothing worse than to be seventeen and to hear one of the
+Noblest girls in the world told by a little child that you sat on the
+cakes and tore a hole in your clo'es.
+
+William leaned upon the banister railing and thought thoughts about
+Jane. For several long, seething moments he thought of her exclusively.
+Then, spurred by the loud laughter of rivals and the agony of knowing
+that even in his own house they were monopolizing the attention of one
+of the Noblest, he hastened into his own, room and took account of his
+reverses.
+
+Standing with his back to the mirror, he obtained over his shoulder
+a view of his trousers which caused him to break out in a fresh
+perspiration. Again he wiped his forehead with the handkerchief, and the
+result was instantly visible in the mirror.
+
+The air thickened with sounds of frenzy, followed by a torrential roar
+and great sputterings in a bath-room, which tumult subsiding, William
+returned at a tragic gallop to his room and, having removed his
+trousers, began a feverish examination of the garments hanging in a
+clothes-closet. There were two pairs of flannel trousers which would
+probably again be white and possible, when cleaned and pressed, but a
+glance showed that until then they were not to be considered as even
+the last resort of desperation. Beside them hung his "last year's summer
+suit" of light gray.
+
+Feverishly he brought it forth, threw off his coat, and then--deflected
+by another glance at the mirror--began to change his collar again.
+This was obviously necessary, and to quicken the process he decided
+to straighten the bent collar-button. Using a shoe-horn as a lever,
+he succeeded in bringing the little cap or head of the button into its
+proper plane, but, unfortunately, his final effort dislodged the cap
+from the rod between it and the base, and it flew off malignantly
+into space. Here was a calamity; few things are more useless than a
+decapitated collar-button, and William had no other. He had made
+sure that it was his last before he put it on, that day; also he
+had ascertained that there was none in, on, or about his father's
+dressing-table. Finally, in the possession of neither William nor his
+father was there a shirt with an indigenous collar.
+
+For decades, collar-buttons have been on the hand-me-down shelves of
+humor; it is a mistake in the catalogue. They belong to pathos. They
+have done harm in the world, and there have been collar-buttons that
+failed when the destinies of families hung upon them. There have
+been collar-buttons that thwarted proper matings. There have been
+collar-buttons that bore last hopes, and, falling to the floor,
+NEVER were found! William's broken collar-button was really the only
+collar-button in the house, except such as were engaged in serving his
+male guests below.
+
+At first he did not realize the extent of his misfortune. How could he?
+Fate is always expected to deal its great blows in the grand manner.
+But our expectations are fustian spangled with pinchbeck; we look for
+tragedy to be theatrical. Meanwhile, every day before our eyes, fate
+works on, employing for its instruments the infinitesimal, the ignoble
+and the petty--in a word, collar-buttons.
+
+Of course William searched his dressing-table and his father's, although
+he had been thoroughly over both once before that day. Next he went
+through most of his mother's and Jane's accessories to the
+toilette; through trinket-boxes, glove-boxes, hairpin-boxes,
+handkerchief-cases--even through sewing-baskets. Utterly he convinced
+himself that ladies not only use no collar-buttons, but also never pick
+them up and put them away among their own belongings. How much time he
+consumed in this search is difficult to reckon;--it is almost impossible
+to believe that there is absolutely no collar-button in a house.
+
+And what William's state of mind had become is matter for exorbitant
+conjecture. Jane, arriving at his locked door upon an errand, was bidden
+by a thick, unnatural voice to depart.
+
+"Mamma says, 'What in mercy's name is the matter?'" Jane called. "She
+whispered to me, 'Go an' see what in mercy's name is the matter with
+Willie; an' if the glass cut him, after all; an' why don't he come
+down'; an' why don't you, Willie? We're all havin' the nicest time!"
+
+"You g'way!" said the strange voice within the room. "G'way!"
+
+"Well, did the glass cut you?"
+
+"No! Keep quiet! G'way!"
+
+"Well, are you EVER comin' down to your party?"
+
+"Yes, I am! G'way!"
+
+Jane obeyed, and William somehow completed the task upon which he was
+engaged. Genius had burst forth from his despair; necessity had become
+a mother again, and William's collar was in place. It was tied there.
+Under his necktie was a piece of string.
+
+He had lost count of time, but he was frantically aware of its passage;
+agony was in the thought of so many rich moments frittered away;
+up-stairs, while Joe Bullitt and Johnnie Watson made hay below. And
+there was another spur to haste in his fear that the behavior of Mrs.
+Baxter might not be all that the guest of honor would naturally expect
+of William's mother. As for Jane, his mind filled with dread; shivers
+passed over him at intervals.
+
+It was a dismal thing to appear at a "party" (and that his own) in "last
+summer's suit," but when he had hastily put it on and faced the mirror,
+he felt a little better--for three or four seconds. Then he turned to
+see how the back of it looked.
+
+And collapsed in a chair, moaning.
+
+
+
+
+XIV
+
+TIME DOES FLY
+
+He remembered now what he had been too hurried to remember earlier. He
+had worn these clothes on the previous Saturday, and, returning from a
+glorified walk with Miss Pratt, he had demonstrated a fact to which his
+near-demolition of the wafers, this afternoon, was additional testimony.
+This fact, roughly stated, is that a person of seventeen, in love, is
+liable to sit down anywhere. William had dreamily seated himself upon
+a tabouret in the library, without noticing that Jane had left her open
+paint-box there. Jane had just been painting sunsets; naturally all the
+little blocks of color were wet, and the effect upon William's pale-gray
+trousers was marvelous--far beyond the capacity of his coat to conceal.
+Collar-buttons and children's paint-boxes--those are the trolls that lie
+in wait!
+
+The gray clothes and the flannel trousers had been destined for the
+professional cleaner, and William, rousing himself from a brief stupor,
+made a piteous effort to substitute himself for that expert so far
+as the gray trousers were concerned. He divested himself of them and
+brought water, towels, bath-soap, and a rubber bath-sponge to the bright
+light of his window; and; there, with touching courage and persistence,
+he tried to scrub the paint out of the cloth. He obtained cloud studies
+and marines which would have interested a Post-Impressionist, but upon
+trousers they seemed out of place.
+
+There came one seeking and calling him again; raps sounded upon the
+door, which he had not forgotten to lock.
+
+"Willie," said a serious voice, "mamma wants to know what in mercy's
+name is the matter! She wants to know if you know for mercy's name what
+time it is! She wants to know what in mercy's name you think they're all
+goin' to think! She says--"
+
+"G'WAY!"
+
+"Well, she said I had to find out what in mercy's name you're doin',
+Willie."
+
+"You tell her," he shouted, hoarsely--"tell her I'm playin' dominoes!
+What's she THINK I'm doin'?"
+
+"I guess"--Jane paused, evidently to complete the swallowing of
+something--"I guess she thinks you're goin' crazy. I don't like Miss
+Pratt, but she lets me play with that little dog. It's name's Flopit!"
+
+"You go 'way from that door and stop bothering me," said William. "I got
+enough on my mind!"
+
+"Mamma looks at Miss Pratt," Jane remarked. "Miss Pratt puts cakes in
+that Mr. Bullitt's mouth and Johnnie Watson's mouth, too. She's awful."
+
+William made it plain that these bulletins from the party found no favor
+with him. He bellowed, "If you don't get away from that DOOR--"
+
+Jane was interested in the conversation, but felt that it would be
+better to return to the refreshment-table. There she made use of her own
+conception of a whisper to place before her mother a report which was
+considered interesting and even curious by every one present; though,
+such was the courtesy of the little assembly, there was a general
+pretense of not hearing.
+
+"I told him," thus whispered Jane, "an' he said, 'You g'way from that
+door or I'll do somep'm'--he didn't say what, mamma. He said, 'What you
+think I'm doin'? I'm playin' dominoes.' He didn't mean he WAS playin'
+dominoes, mamma. He just said he was. I think maybe he was just lookin'
+in the lookin'-glass some more."
+
+Mrs. Baxter was becoming embarrassed. She resolved to go to William's
+room herself at the first opportunity; but for some time her
+conscientiousness as a hostess continued to occupy her at the table,
+and then, when she would have gone, Miss Pratt detained her by a roguish
+appeal to make Mr. Bullitt and Mr. Watson behave. Both refused all
+nourishment except such as was placed in their mouths by the delicate
+hand of one of the Noblest, and the latter said that really she wanted
+to eat a little tweetie now and then herself, and not to spend her whole
+time feeding the Men. For Miss Pratt had the same playfulness with older
+people that she had with those of her own age; and she elaborated her
+pretended quarrel with the two young gentlemen, taking others of the
+dazzled company into her confidence about it, and insisting upon "Mamma
+Batster's" acting formally as judge to settle the difficulty. However,
+having thus arranged matters, Miss Pratt did not resign the center of
+interest, but herself proposed a compromise: she would continue to feed
+Mr. Bullitt and Mr. Watson "every other tweetie"--that is, each must
+agree to eat a cake "all by him own self," after every cake fed to him.
+So the comedietta went on, to the running accompaniment of laughter,
+with Mr. Bullitt and Mr. Watson swept by such gusts of adoration they
+were like to perish where they sat. But Mrs. Baxter's smiling approval
+was beginning to be painful to the muscles of her face, for it was
+hypocritical. And if William had known her thoughts about one of the
+Noblest, he could only have attributed them to that demon of groundless
+prejudice which besets all females, but most particularly and
+outrageously the mothers and sisters of Men.
+
+A colored serving-maid entered with a laden tray, and, having disposed
+of its freight of bon-bons among the guests, spoke to Mrs. Baxter in a
+low voice.
+
+"Could you manage step in the back hall a minute, please, ma'am?"
+
+Mrs. Baxter managed and, having closed the door upon the laughing
+voices, asked, quickly--"What is it, Adelia? Have you seen Mr. William?
+Do you know why he doesn't come down?"
+
+"Yes'm," said Adelia. "He gone mighty near out his head, Miz Baxter."
+
+"What!"
+
+"Yes'm. He come floppin' down the back stairs in his baf-robe li'l'
+while ago. He jes' gone up again. He 'ain't got no britches, Miz
+Baxter."
+
+"No WHAT?"
+
+"No'm," said Adelia. "He 'ain't got no britches at all."
+
+A statement of this kind is startling under Almost any circumstances,
+and it is unusually so when made in reference to a person for whom a
+party is being given. Therefore it was not unreasonable of Mrs. Baxter
+to lose her breath.
+
+"But--it can't BE!" she gasped. "He has! He has plenty!"
+
+"No'm, he 'ain't," Adelia assured her. "An' he's carryin' on so I don't
+scarcely think he knows much what he's doin', Miz Baxter. He brung down
+some gray britches to the kitchen to see if I couldn' press an' clean
+'em right quick: they was the ones Miss Jane, when she's paintin' all
+them sunsets, lef' her paint-box open, an' one them sunsets got on these
+here gray britches, Miz Baxter; an' hones'ly, Miz Baxter, he's fixed 'em
+in a condishum, tryin' to git that paint out, I don't believe it 'll be
+no use sendin' 'em to the cleaner. 'Clean 'em an' press 'em QUICK?' I
+says. 'I couldn' clean 'em by Resurreckshum, let alone pressin' 'em!'
+No'm! Well, he had his blue britches, too, but they's so ripped an' tore
+an' kind o' shredded away in one place, the cook she jes' hollered when
+he spread 'em out, an' he didn' even ast me could I mend 'em. An' he had
+two pairs o' them white flannen britches, but hones'ly, Miz Baxter,
+I don't scarcely think Genesis would wear 'em, the way they is now!
+'Well,' I says, 'ain't but one thing lef' to do _I_ can see,' I says.
+'Why don't you go put on that nice black suit you had las' winter?'"
+
+"Of course!" Mrs. Baxter cried. "I'll go and--"
+
+"No'm," said Adelia. "You don' need to. He's up in the attic now,
+r'arin' roun' 'mongs' them trunks, but seem to me like I remember you
+put that suit away under the heavy blankets in that big cedar ches' with
+the padlock. If you jes' tell me where is the key, I take it up to him."
+
+"Under the bureau in the spare room," said Mrs. Baxter. "HURRY!"
+
+Adelia hurried; and, fifteen minutes later, William, for the last time
+that afternoon, surveyed himself in his mirror. His face showed the
+strain that had been upon him and under which he still labored; the
+black suit was a map of creases, and William was perspiring more freely
+than ever under the heavy garments. But at least he was clothed.
+
+He emptied his pockets, disgorging upon the floor a multitude of small
+white spheres, like marbles. Then, as he stepped out into the hall, he
+discovered that their odor still remained about him; so he stopped
+and carefully turned his pockets inside out, one after the other, but
+finding that he still smelled vehemently of the "moth-balls," though not
+one remained upon him, he went to his mother's room and sprinkled violet
+toilet-water upon his chest and shoulders. He disliked such odors, but
+that left by the moth-balls was intolerable, and, laying hands upon a
+canister labeled "Hyacinth," he contrived to pour a quantity of scented
+powder inside his collar, thence to be distributed by the force of
+gravity so far as his dampness permitted.
+
+Lo, William was now ready to go to his party! Moist, wilted, smelling
+indeed strangely, he was ready.
+
+But when he reached the foot of the stairs he discovered that there was
+one thing more to be done. Indignation seized him, and also a creeping
+fear chilled his spine, as he beheld a lurking shape upon the porch,
+stealthily moving toward the open door. It was the lowly Clematis, dog
+unto Genesis.
+
+William instantly divined the purpose of Clematis. It was debatable
+whether Clematis had remained upon the premises after the departure of
+Genesis, or had lately returned thither upon some errand of his own,
+but one thing was certain, and the manner of Clematis--his attitude,
+his every look, his every gesture--made it as clear as day. Clematis
+had discovered, by one means or another, the presence of Flopit in the
+house, and had determined to see him personally.
+
+Clematis wore his most misleading expression; a stranger would have
+thought him shy and easily turned from his purpose--but William was not
+deceived. He knew that if Clematis meant to see Flopit, a strong will,
+a ready brain, and stern action were needed to thwart him; but at all
+costs that meeting must be prevented. Things had been awful enough,
+without that!
+
+He was well aware that Clematis could not be driven away, except
+temporarily, for nothing was further fixed upon Clematis than his habit
+of retiring under pressure, only to return and return again. True, the
+door could have been shut in the intruder's face, but he would have
+sought other entrance with possible success, or, failing that, would
+have awaited in the front yard the dispersal of the guests and Flopit's
+consequent emerging. This was a contretemps not to be endured.
+
+The door of the living-room was closed, muffling festal noises and
+permitting safe passage through the hall. William cast a hunted look
+over his shoulder; then he approached Clematis.
+
+"Good ole doggie," he said, huskily. "Hyuh, Clem! Hyuh, Clem!"
+
+Clematis moved sidelong, retreating with his head low and his tail
+denoting anxious thoughts.
+
+"Hyuh, Clem!" said William, trying, with only fair success, to keep his
+voice from sounding venomous. "Hyuh, Clem!"
+
+Clematis continued his deprecatory retreat.
+
+Thereupon William essayed a ruse--he pretended to nibble at something,
+and then extended his hand as if it held forth a gift of food. "Look,
+Clem," he said. "Yum-yum! Meat, Clem! Good meat!"
+
+For once Clematis was half credulous. He did not advance, but he
+elongated himself to investigate the extended hand, and the next instant
+found himself seized viciously by the scruff of the neck. He submitted
+to capture in absolute silence. Only the slightest change of countenance
+betrayed his mortification at having been found so easy a gull; this
+passed, and a look of resolute stoicism took its place.
+
+He refused to walk, but offered merely nominal resistance, as a formal
+protest which he wished to be of record, though perfectly understanding
+that it availed nothing at present. William dragged him through the long
+hall and down a short passageway to the cellar door. This he opened,
+thrust Clematis upon the other side of it, closed and bolted it.
+
+Immediately a stentorian howl raised blood-curdling echoes and resounded
+horribly through the house. It was obvious that Clematis intended to
+make a scene, whether he was present at it or not. He lifted his voice
+in sonorous dolor, stating that he did not like the cellar and would
+continue thus to protest as long as he was left in it alone. He added
+that he was anxious to see Flopit and considered it an unexampled
+outrage that he was withheld from the opportunity.
+
+Smitten with horror, William reopened the door and charged down the
+cellar stairs after Clematis, who closed his caitiff mouth and gave way
+precipitately. He fled from one end of the cellar to the other and back,
+while William pursued; choking, and calling in low, ferocious tones:
+"Good doggie! Good ole doggie! Hyuh, Clem! Meat, Clem, meat--"
+
+There was dodging through coal-bins; there was squirming between
+barrels; there was high jumping and broad jumping, and there was a final
+aspiring but baffled dash for the top of the cellar stairs, where the
+door, forgotten by William, stood open. But it was here that Clematis,
+after a long and admirable exhibition of ingenuity, no less than
+agility, submitted to capture. That is to say, finding himself
+hopelessly pinioned, he resumed the stoic.
+
+Grimly the panting and dripping William dragged him through the kitchen,
+where the cook cried out unintelligibly, seeming to summon Adelia, who
+was not present. Through the back yard went captor and prisoner, the
+latter now maintaining a seated posture--his pathetic conception of
+dignity under duress. Finally, into a small shed or tool-house, behind
+Mrs. Baxter's flower-beds, went Clematis in a hurried and spasmodic
+manner. The instant the door slammed he lifted his voice--and was bidden
+to use it now as much as he liked.
+
+Adelia, with a tray of used plates, encountered the son of the house as
+he passed through the kitchen on his return, and her eyes were those of
+one who looks upon miracles.
+
+William halted fiercely.
+
+"What's the matter?" he demanded. "Is my face dirty?"
+
+"You mean, are it too dirty to go in yonduh to the party?" Adelia asked,
+slowly. "No, suh; you look all right to go in there. You lookin' jes'
+fine to go in there now, Mist' Willie!"
+
+Something in her tone struck him as peculiar, even as ominous, but his
+blood was up--he would not turn back now. He strode into the hall and
+opened the door of the "living-room."
+
+Jane was sitting on the floor, busily painting sunsets in a large
+blank-book which she had obtained for that exclusive purpose.
+
+She looked up brightly as William appeared in the doorway, and in answer
+to his wild gaze she said:
+
+"I got a little bit sick, so mamma told me to keep quiet a while. She's
+lookin' for you all over the house. She told papa she don't know what in
+mercy's name people are goin' to think about you, Willie."
+
+The distraught youth strode to her. "The party--" he choked. "WHERE--"
+
+"They all stayed pretty long," said Jane, "but the last ones said they
+had to go home to their dinners when papa came, a little while ago.
+Johnnie Watson was carryin' Flopit for that Miss Pratt."
+
+William dropped into the chair beside which Jane had established herself
+upon the floor. Then he uttered a terrible cry and rose.
+
+Again Jane had painted a sunset she had not intended.
+
+
+
+
+XV
+
+ROMANCE OF STATISTICS
+
+On a warm morning, ten days later, William stood pensively among his
+mother's flowerbeds behind the house, his attitude denoting a low state
+of vitality. Not far away, an aged negro sat upon a wheelbarrow in the
+hot sun, tremulously yet skilfully whittling a piece of wood into the
+shape of a boat, labor more to his taste, evidently, than that which he
+had abandoned at the request of Jane. Allusion to this preference for
+a lighter task was made by Genesis, who was erecting a trellis on the
+border of the little garden.
+
+"Pappy whittle all day," he chuckled. "Whittle all night, too! Pappy, I
+thought you 'uz goin' to git 'at long bed all spade' up fer me by noon.
+Ain't 'at what you tole me?"
+
+"You let him alone, Genesis," said Jane, who sat by the old man's side,
+deeply fascinated. "There's goin' to be a great deal of rain in the next
+few days maybe, an' I haf to have this boat ready."
+
+The aged darky lifted his streaky and diminished eyes to the burnished
+sky, and laughed. "Rain come some day, anyways," he said. "We git de
+boat ready 'fo' she fall, dat sho." His glance wandered to William and
+rested upon him with feeble curiosity. "Dat ain' yo' pappy, is it?" he
+asked Jane.
+
+"I should say it isn't!" she exclaimed. "It's Willie. He was only
+seventeen about two or three months ago, Mr. Genesis." This was not the
+old man's name, but Jane had evolved it, inspired by respect for one so
+aged and so kind about whittling. He was the father of Genesis, and the
+latter, neither to her knowledge nor to her imagination, possessed a
+surname.
+
+"I got cat'rack in my lef' eye," said Mr. Genesis, "an' de right one,
+she kine o' tricksy, too. Tell black man f'um white man, little f'um
+big."
+
+"I'd hate it if he was papa," said Jane, confidentially. "He's always
+cross about somep'm, because he's in love." She approached her mouth to
+her whittling friend's ear and continued in a whisper: "He's in love of
+Miss Pratt. She's out walkin' with Joe Bullitt. I was in the front yard
+with Willie, an' we saw 'em go by. He's mad."
+
+William did not hear her. Moodily, he had discovered that there was
+something amiss with the buckle of his belt, and, having ungirded
+himself, he was biting the metal tongue of the buckle in order
+to straighten it. This fell under the observation of Genesis, who
+remonstrated.
+
+"You break you' teef on 'at buckle," he said.
+
+"No, I won't, either," William returned, crossly.
+
+"Ain' my teef," said Genesis. "Break 'em, you want to!"
+
+The attention of Mr. Genesis did not seem to be attracted to the
+speakers; he continued his whittling in a craftsman-like manner, which
+brought praise from Jane.
+
+"You can see to whittle, Mr. Genesis," she said. "You whittle better
+than anybody in the world."
+
+"I speck so, mebbe," Mr. Genesis returned, with a little complacency.
+"How ole yo' pappy?"
+
+"Oh, he's OLD!" Jane explained.
+
+William deigned to correct her. "He's not old, he's middle-aged."
+
+"Well, suh," said Mr. Genesis, "I had three chillum 'fo' I 'uz twenty. I
+had two when I 'uz eighteem."
+
+William showed sudden interest. "You did!" he exclaimed. "How old were
+you when you had the first one?"
+
+"I 'uz jes' yo' age," said the old man. "I 'uz seventeem."
+
+"By George!" cried William.
+
+Jane seemed much less impressed than William, seventeen being a long way
+from ten, though, of course, to seventeen itself hardly any information
+could be imagined as more interesting than that conveyed by the words
+of the aged Mr. Genesis. The impression made upon William was obviously
+profound and favorable.
+
+"By George!" he cried again.
+
+"Genesis he de youngis' one," said the old man. "Genesis he 'uz bawn
+when I 'uz sixty-one."
+
+William moved closer. "What became of the one that was born when you
+were seventeen?" he asked.
+
+"Well, suh," said Mr. Genesis, "I nev' did know."
+
+At this, Jane's interest equaled William's. Her eyes consented to leave
+the busy hands of the aged darky, and, much enlarged, rose to his face.
+After a little pause of awe and sympathy she inquired:
+
+"Was it a boy or a girl?"
+
+The old man deliberated within himself. "Seem like it mus' been a boy."
+
+"Did it die?" Jane asked, softly.
+
+"I reckon it mus' be dead by now," he returned, musingly. "Good many of
+'em dead: what I KNOWS is dead. Yes'm, I reckon so."
+
+"How old were you when you were married?" William asked, with a manner
+of peculiar earnestness;--it was the manner of one who addresses a
+colleague.
+
+"Me? Well, suh, dat 'pen's." He seemed to search his memory. "I
+rickalect I 'uz ma'ied once in Looavle," he said.
+
+Jane's interest still followed the first child. "Was that where it was
+born, Mr. Genesis?" she asked.
+
+He looked puzzled, and paused in his whittling to rub his deeply
+corrugated forehead. "Well, suh, mus' been some bawn in Looavle.
+Genesis," he called to his industrious son, "whaih 'uz YOU bawn?"
+
+"Right 'n 'is town," laughed Genesis. "You fergit a good deal, pappy,
+but I notice you don' fergit come to meals!"
+
+The old man grunted, resuming his whittling busily. "Hain' much use,"
+he complained. "Cain' eat nuff'm 'lessen it all gruelly. Man cain' eat
+nuff'm 'lessen he got teef. Genesis, di'n' I hyuh you tellin' dis white
+gemmun take caih his teef--not bite on no i'on?"
+
+William smiled in pity. "I don't need to bother about that, I guess," he
+said. "I can crack nuts with my teeth."
+
+"Yes, suh," said the old man. "You kin now. Ev'y nut you crac' now goin'
+cos' you a yell when you git 'long 'bout fawty an' fifty. You crack nuts
+now an' you'll holler den!"
+
+"Well, I guess I won't worry myself much now about what won't happen
+till I'm forty or fifty," said William. "My teeth 'll last MY time, I
+guess."
+
+That brought a chuckle from Mr. Genesis. "Jes' listen!" he exclaimed.
+"Young man think he ain' nev' goin' be ole man. Else he think, 'Dat
+ole man what I'm goin' to be, dat ain' goin' be me 'tall--dat goin' be
+somebody else! What I caih 'bout dat ole man? I ain't a-goin' take caih
+o' no teef fer HIM!' Yes, suh, an' den when he GIT to be ole man, he
+say, 'What become o' dat young man I yoosta be? Where is dat young man
+agone to? He 'uz a fool, dat's what--an' _I_ ain' no fool, so he mus'
+been somebody else, not me; but I do jes' wish I had him hyuh 'bout two
+minutes--long enough to lam him fer not takin' caih o' my teef fer me!'
+Yes, suh!"
+
+William laughed; his good humor was restored and he found the
+conversation of Mr. Genesis attractive. He seated himself upon an
+upturned bucket near the wheelbarrow, and reverted to a former theme.
+"Well, I HAVE heard of people getting married even younger 'n you were,"
+he said. "You take India, for instance. Why, they get married in India
+when they're twelve, and even seven and eight years old."
+
+"They do not!" said Jane, promptly. "Their mothers and fathers wouldn't
+let 'em, an' they wouldn't want to, anyway."
+
+"I suppose you been to India and know all about it!" William retorted.
+"For the matter o' that, there was a young couple got married in
+Pennsylvania the other day; the girl was only fifteen, and the man was
+sixteen. It was in the papers, and their parents consented, and said it
+was a good thing. Then there was a case in Fall River, Massachusetts,
+where a young man eighteen years old married a woman forty-one years
+old; it was in the papers, too. And I heard of another case somewhere in
+Iowa--a boy began shaving when he was thirteen, and shaved every day for
+four years, and now he's got a full beard, and he's goin' to get married
+this year--before he's eighteen years old. Joe Bullitt's got a cousin in
+Iowa that knows about this case--he knows the girl this fellow with the
+beard is goin' to marry, and he says he expects it 'll turn out the
+best thing could have happened. They're goin' to live on a farm. There's
+hunderds of cases like that, only you don't hear of more'n just a few
+of 'em. People used to get married at sixteen, seventeen,
+eighteen--anywhere in there--and never think anything of it at all.
+Right up to about a hunderd years ago there were more people married at
+those ages than there were along about twenty-four and twenty-five, the
+way they are now. For instance, you take Shakespeare--"
+
+William paused.
+
+Mr. Genesis was scraping the hull of the miniature boat with a piece of
+broken glass, in lieu of sandpaper, but he seemed to be following his
+young friend's remarks with attention. William had mentioned Shakespeare
+impulsively, in the ardor of demonstrating his point; however, upon
+second thought he decided to withdraw the name.
+
+"I mean, you take the olden times," he went on; "hardly anybody got
+married after they were nineteen or twenty years old, unless they were
+widowers, because they were all married by that time. And right here in
+our own county, there were eleven couples married in the last six months
+under twenty-one years of age. I've got a friend named Johnnie Watson;
+his uncle works down at the court-house and told him about it, so it
+can't be denied. Then there was a case I heard of over in--"
+
+Mr. Genesis uttered a loud chuckle. "My goo'ness!" he exclaimed. "How
+you c'leck all' dem fac's? Lan' name! What puzzlin' ME is how you
+'member 'em after you done c'leck 'em. Ef it uz me I couldn't c'leck 'em
+in de firs' place, an' ef I could, dey wouldn' be no use to me, 'cause I
+couldn't rickalect 'em!"
+
+"Well, it isn't so hard," said William, "if you kind of get the hang
+of it." Obviously pleased, he plucked a spear of grass and placed it
+between his teeth, adding, "I always did have a pretty good memory."
+
+"Mamma says you're the most forgetful boy she ever heard of," said Jane,
+calmly. "She says you can't remember anything two minutes."
+
+William's brow darkened. "Now look here--" he began, with severity.
+
+But the old darky intervened. "Some folks got good rickaleckshum
+an' some folks got bad," he said, pacifically. "Young white germmun
+rickalect mo' in two minute dan what I kin in two years!"
+
+Jane appeared to accept this as settlement of the point at issue, while
+William bestowed upon Mr. Genesis a glance of increased favor. William's
+expression was pleasant to see; in fact, it was the pleasantest
+expression Jane had seen him wearing for several days. Almost always,
+lately, he was profoundly preoccupied, and so easily annoyed that
+there was no need to be careful of his feelings, because--as his mother
+observed--he was "certain to break out about every so often, no matter
+what happened!"
+
+"I remember pretty much everything," he said, as if in modest
+explanation of the performance which had excited the aged man's
+admiration. "I can remember things that happened when I was four years
+old."
+
+"So can I," said Jane. "I can remember when I was two. I had a kitten
+fell down the cistern and papa said it hurt the water."
+
+"My goo'ness!" Mr. Genesis exclaimed. "An' you 'uz on'y two year ole,
+honey! Bes' _I_ kin do is rickalect when I 'uz 'bout fifty."
+
+"Oh no!" Jane protested. "You said you remembered havin' a baby when you
+were seventeen, Mr. Genesis."
+
+"Yes'm," he admitted. "I mean rickalect good like you do 'bout yo' li'l'
+cat an' all how yo' pappy tuck on 'bout it. I kin rickalect SOME, but I
+cain' rickalect GOOD."
+
+William coughed with a certain importance. "Do you remember," he asked,
+"when you were married, how did you feel about it? Were you kind of
+nervous, or anything like that, beforehand?"
+
+Mr. Genesis again passed a wavering hand across his troubled brow.
+
+"I mean," said William, observing his perplexity, "were you sort of
+shaky--f'rinstance, as if you were taking an important step in life?"
+
+"Lemme see." The old man pondered for a moment. "I felt mighty shaky
+once, I rickalect; dat time yalla m'latta man shootin' at me f 'um
+behime a snake-fence."
+
+"Shootin' at you!" Jane cried, stirred from her accustomed placidity.
+"Mr. Genesis! What DID he do that for?"
+
+"Nuff'm!" replied Mr. Genesis, with feeling. "Nuff'm in de wide worl'!
+He boun' to shoot SOMEbody, an' pick on me 'cause I 'uz de handies'."
+
+He closed his knife, gave the little boat a final scrape with the broken
+glass, and then a soothing rub with the palm of his hand. "Dah, honey,"
+he said--and simultaneously factory whistles began to blow. "Dah
+yo' li'l' steamboat good as I kin git her widout no b'iler ner no
+smokestack. I reckon yo' pappy 'll buy 'em fer you."
+
+Jane was grateful. "It's a beautiful boat, Mr. Genesis. I do thank you!"
+
+Genesis, the son, laid aside his tools and approached. "Pappy finish
+whittlin' spang on 'em noon whistles," he chuckled. "Come 'long, pappy.
+I bet you walk fas' 'nuff goin' todes dinnuh. I hear fry-cakes ploppin'
+in skillet!"
+
+Mr. Genesis laughed loudly, his son's words evidently painting a merry
+and alluring picture; and the two, followed by Clematis, moved away
+in the direction of the alley gate. William and Jane watched the brisk
+departure of the antique with sincere esteem and liking.
+
+"He must have been sixteen," said William, musingly.
+
+"When?" Jane asked.
+
+William, in deep thought, was still looking after Mr. Genesis; he
+was almost unconscious that he had spoken aloud and he replied,
+automatically:
+
+"When he was married."
+
+Then, with a start, he realized into how great a condescension he had
+been betrayed, and hastily added, with pronounced hauteur, "Things you
+don't understand. You run in the house."
+
+Jane went into the house, but she did not carry her obedience to the
+point of running. She walked slowly, and in that state of profound
+reverie which was characteristic of her when she was immersed in the
+serious study of William's affairs.
+
+
+
+
+XVI
+
+THE SHOWER
+
+She continued to be thoughtful until after lunch, when, upon the
+sun's disappearance behind a fat cloud, Jane and the heavens exchanged
+dispositions for the time--the heavens darkened and Jane brightened. She
+was in the front hall, when the sunshine departed rather abruptly, and
+she jumped for joy, pointing to the open door. "Look! Looky there!" she
+called to her brother. Richly ornamented, he was descending the front
+stairs, his embellishments including freshly pressed white trousers, a
+new straw hat, unusual shoes, and a blasphemous tie. "I'm goin' to get
+to sail my boat," Jane shouted. "It's goin' to rain."
+
+"It is not," said William, irritated. "It's not going to anything like
+rain. I s'pose you think it ought to rain just to let you sail that
+chunk of wood!"
+
+"It's goin' to rain--it's goin' to rain!" (Jane made a little singsong
+chant of it.) "It's goin' to rain--it gives Willie a pain--it's goin' to
+rain--it gives Willie a pain--it's goin' to--"
+
+He interrupted her sternly. "Look here! You're old enough to know
+better. I s'pose you think there isn't anything as important in the
+world as your gettin' the chance to sail that little boat! I s'pose
+you think business and everything else has got to stop and get ruined,
+maybe, just to please you!" As he spoke he walked to an umbrella-stand
+in the hall and deliberately took therefrom a bamboo walking-stick of
+his father's. Indeed, his denunciation of Jane's selfishness about
+the weather was made partly to reassure himself and settle his nerves,
+strained by the unusual procedure he contemplated, and partly to divert
+Jane's attention. In the latter effort he was unsuccessful; her eyes
+became strange and unbearable.
+
+She uttered a shriek:
+
+"Willie's goin' to carry a CANE!"
+
+"You hush up!" he said, fiercely, and hurried out through the front
+door. She followed him to the edge of the porch; she stood there while
+he made his way to the gate, and she continued to stand there as he
+went down the street, trying to swing the cane in an accustomed and
+unembarrassed manner.
+
+Jane made this difficult.
+
+"Willie's got a CANE!" she screamed. "He's got papa's CANE!"
+Then, resuming her little chant, she began to sing: "It's goin' to
+rain--Willie's got papa's cane--it's goin' to rain--Willie's got papa's
+cane!" She put all of her voice into a final effort. "MISS PRATT'LL GET
+WET IF YOU DON'T TAKE AN UMBERELLER-R-R!"
+
+The attention of several chance pedestrians had been attracted, and the
+burning William, breaking into an agonized half-trot, disappeared round
+the corner. Then Jane retired within the house, feeling that she had
+done her duty. It would be his own fault if he got wet.
+
+Rain was coming. Rain was in the feel of the air--and in Jane's hope.
+
+She was not disappointed. Mr. Genesis, so secure of fair weather in the
+morning, was proved by the afternoon to be a bad prophet. The fat cloud
+was succeeded by others, fatter; a corpulent army assailed the vault
+of heaven, heavy outriders before a giant of evil complexion and
+devastating temper.
+
+An hour after William had left the house, the dust in the streets and
+all loose paper and rubbish outdoors rose suddenly to a considerable
+height and started for somewhere else. The trees had colic; everything
+became as dark as winter twilight; streaks of wildfire ran miles in a
+second, and somebody seemed to be ripping up sheets of copper and tin
+the size of farms. The rain came with a swish, then with a rattle, and
+then with a roar, while people listened at their garret doorways and
+marveled. Window-panes turned to running water;--it poured.
+
+Then it relented, dribbled, shook down a few last drops; and passed on
+to the countryside. Windows went up; eaves and full gutters plashed and
+gurgled; clearer light fell; then, in a moment, sunshine rushed upon
+shining green trees and green grass; doors opened--and out came the
+children!
+
+Shouting, they ran to the flooded gutters. Here were rivers, lakes, and
+oceans for navigation; easy pilotage, for the steersman had but to wade
+beside his craft and guide it with a twig. Jane's timely boat was one of
+the first to reach the water.
+
+Her mother had been kind, and Jane, with shoes and stockings left behind
+her on the porch, was a happy sailor as she waded knee-deep along the
+brimming curbstones. At the corner below the house of the Baxters, the
+street was flooded clear across, and Jane's boat, following the current,
+proceeded gallantly onward here, sailed down the next block, and was
+thoughtlessly entering a sewer when she snatched it out of the water.
+Looking about her, she perceived a gutter which seemed even lovelier
+than the one she had followed. It was deeper and broader and perhaps a
+little browner, wherefore she launched her ship upon its dimpled bosom
+and explored it as far as the next sewer-hole or portage. Thus the
+voyage continued for several blocks with only one accident--which might
+have happened to anybody. It was an accident in the nature of a fall,
+caused by the sliding of Jane's left foot on some slippery mud.
+This treacherous substance, covered with water, could not have been
+anticipated; consequently Jane's emotions were those of indignation
+rather than of culpability. Upon rising, she debated whether or not
+she should return to her dwelling, inclining to the opinion that the
+authorities there would have taken the affirmative; but as she was
+wet not much above the waist, and the guilt lay all upon the mud,
+she decided that such an interruption of her journey would be a gross
+injustice to herself. Navigation was reopened.
+
+Presently the boat wandered into a miniature whirlpool, grooved in a
+spiral and pleasant to see. Slowly the water went round and round, and
+so did the boat without any assistance from Jane. Watching this movement
+thoughtfully, she brought forth from her drenched pocket some sodden
+whitish disks, recognizable as having been crackers, and began to eat
+them. Thus absorbed, she failed at first to notice the approach of two
+young people along the sidewalk.
+
+They were the entranced William and Miss Pratt; and their appearance
+offered a suggestive contrast in relative humidity. In charming and
+tender-colored fabrics, fluffy and cool and summery, she was specklessly
+dry; not a drop had touched even the little pink parasol over her
+shoulder, not one had fallen upon the tiny white doglet drowsing upon
+her arm. But William was wet--he was still more than merely damp, though
+they had evidently walked some distance since the rain had ceased to
+fall. His new hat was a mucilaginous ruin; his dank coat sagged; his
+shapeless trousers flopped heavily, and his shoes gave forth marshy
+sounds as he walked.
+
+No brilliant analyst was needed to diagnose this case. Surely any
+observer must have said: "Here is a dry young lady, and at her side
+walks a wet young gentleman who carries an umbrella in one hand and a
+walking-stick in the other. Obviously the young lady and gentleman
+were out for a stroll for which the stick was sufficient, and they were
+caught by the rain. Before any fell, however, he found her a place of
+shelter--such as a corner drug-store and then himself gallantly went
+forth into the storm for an umbrella. He went to the young lady's house,
+or to the house where she may be visiting, for, if he had gone to his
+own he would have left his stick. It may be, too, that at his own, his
+mother would have detained him, since he is still at the age when it
+is just possible sometimes for mothers to get their sons into the house
+when it rains. He returned with the umbrella to the corner drug-store
+at probably about the time when the rain ceased to fall, because his
+extreme moistness makes necessary the deduction that he was out in all
+the rain that rained. But he does not seem to care."
+
+The fact was that William did not even know that he was wet. With his
+head sidewise and his entranced eyes continuously upon the pretty face
+so near, his state was almost somnambulistic. Not conscious of his
+soggy garments or of the deluged streets, he floated upon a rosy cloud,
+incense about him, far-away music enchanting his ears.
+
+If Jane had not recognized the modeling of his features she might not
+have known them to be William's, for they had altered their grouping
+to produce an expression with which she was totally unfamiliar. To be
+explicit, she was unfamiliar with this expression in that place--that is
+to say, upon William, though she had seen something like it upon other
+people, once or twice, in church.
+
+William's thoughts might have seemed to her as queer as his expression,
+could she have known them. They were not very definite, however, taking
+the form of sweet, vague pictures of the future. These pictures were of
+married life; that is, married life as William conceived it for himself
+and Miss Pratt--something strikingly different from that he had observed
+as led by his mother and father, or their friends and relatives. In his
+rapt mind he beheld Miss Pratt walking beside him "through life," with
+her little parasol and her little dog--her exquisite face always lifted
+playfully toward his own (with admiration underneath the playfulness),
+and he heard her voice of silver always rippling "baby-talk" throughout
+all the years to come. He saw her applauding his triumphs--though these
+remained indefinite in his mind, and he was unable to foreshadow the
+business or profession which was to provide the amazing mansion (mainly
+conservatory) which he pictured as their home. Surrounded by flowers,
+and maintaining a private orchestra, he saw Miss Pratt and himself
+growing old together, attaining to such ages as thirty and even
+thirty-five, still in perfect harmony, and always either dancing in
+the evenings or strolling hand in hand in the moonlight. Sometimes they
+would visit the nursery, where curly-headed, rosy cherubs played upon a
+white-bear rug in the firelight. These were all boys and ready-made, the
+youngest being three years old and without a past.
+
+They would be beautiful children, happy with their luxurious toys on the
+bear rug, and they would NEVER be seen in any part of the house except
+the nursery. Their deportment would be flawless, and--
+
+"WILL-EE!"
+
+The aviator struck a hole in the air; his heart misgave him. Then he
+came to earth--a sickening drop, and instantaneous.
+
+"WILL-EE!"
+
+There was Jane, a figurine in a plastic state and altogether
+disgraceful;--she came up out of the waters and stood before them with
+feet of clay, indeed; pedestaled upon the curbstone.
+
+"Who IS that CURIOUS child?" said Miss Pratt, stopping.
+
+William shuddered.
+
+"Was she calling YOU?" Miss Pratt asked, incredulously.
+
+"Willie, I told you you better take an umbereller," said Jane, "instead
+of papa's cane." And she added, triumphantly, "Now you see!"
+
+Moving forward, she seemed to have in mind a dreadful purpose; there
+was something about her that made William think she intended casually to
+accompany him and Miss Pratt.
+
+"You go home!" he commanded, hoarsely.
+
+Miss Pratt uttered a little scream of surprise and recognition. "It's
+your little sister!" she exclaimed, and then, reverting to her favorite
+playfulness of enunciation, "'Oor ickle sissa!" she added, gaily, as
+a translation. Jane misunderstood it; she thought Miss Pratt meant "OUR
+little sister."
+
+"Go home!" said William.
+
+"No'ty, no'ty!" said Miss Pratt, shaking her head. "Me 'fraid oo's a
+no'ty, no'ty ickle dirl! All datie!"
+
+Jane advanced. "I wish you'd let me carry Flopit for you," she said.
+
+Giving forth another gentle scream, Miss Pratt hopped prettily backward
+from Jane's extended hands. "Oo-oo!" she cried, chidingly. "Mustn't
+touch! P'eshus Flopit all soap-water-wash clean. Ickle dirly all
+muddy-nassy! Ickle dirly must doe home, det all soap-water-wash clean
+like NICE ickle sissa. Evabody will love 'oor ickle sissa den," she
+concluded, turning to William. "Tell 'oor ickle sissa MUS' doe home det
+soap-water-wash!"
+
+Jane stared at Miss Pratt with fixed solemnity during the delivery of
+these admonitions, and it was to be seen that they made an impression
+upon her. Her mouth slowly opened, but she spake not. An extraordinary
+idea had just begun to make itself at home in her mind. It was an idea
+which had been hovering in the neighborhood of that domain ever since
+William's comments upon the conversation of Mr. Genesis, in the morning.
+
+"Go home!" repeated William, and then, as Jane stood motionless and
+inarticulate, transfixed by her idea, he said, almost brokenly, to his
+dainty companion, "I DON'T know what you'll think of my mother! To let
+this child--"
+
+Miss Pratt laughed comfortingly as they started on again. "Isn't mamma's
+fault, foolish boy Baxter. Ickle dirlies will det datie!"
+
+The profoundly mortified William glanced back over his shoulder,
+bestowing upon Jane a look in which bitterness was mingled with
+apprehension. But she remained where she was, and did not follow.
+That was a little to be thankful for, and he found some additional
+consolation in believing that Miss Pratt had not caught the frightful
+words, "papa's cane," at the beginning of the interview. He was
+encouraged to this belief by her presently taking from his hand the
+decoration in question and examining it with tokens of pleasure. "'Oor
+pitty walk'-'tick," she called it, with a tact he failed to suspect. And
+so he began to float upward again; glamors enveloped him and the earth
+fell away.
+
+He was alone in space with Miss Pratt once more.
+
+
+
+
+XVII
+
+JANE'S THEORY
+
+The pale end of sunset was framed in the dining-room windows, and Mr.
+and Mrs. Baxter and the rehabilitated Jane were at the table, when
+William made his belated return from the afternoon's excursion. Seating
+himself, he waived his mother's references to the rain, his clothes, and
+probable colds, and after one laden glance at Jane denoting a grievance
+so elaborate that he despaired of setting it forth in a formal complaint
+to the Powers--he fell into a state of trance. He took nourishment
+automatically, and roused himself but once during the meal, a pathetic
+encounter with his father resulting from this awakening.
+
+"Everybody in town seemed to be on the streets, this evening, as I
+walked home," Mr. Baxter remarked, addressing his wife. "I suppose
+there's something in the clean air after a rain that brings 'em out. I
+noticed one thing, though; maybe it's the way they dress nowadays, but
+you certainly don't see as many pretty girls on the streets as there
+used to be."
+
+William looked up absently. "I used to think that, too," he said, with
+dreamy condescension, "when I was younger."
+
+Mr. Baxter stared.
+
+"Well, I'll be darned!" he said.
+
+"Papa, papa!" his wife called, reprovingly.
+
+"When you were younger!" Mr. Baxter repeated, with considerable
+irritation. "How old d' you think you are?"
+
+"I'm going on eighteen," said William, firmly. "I know plenty of
+cases--cases where--" He paused, relapsing into lethargy.
+
+"What's the matter with him?" Mr. Baxter inquired, heatedly, of his
+wife.
+
+William again came to life. "I was saying that a person's age is
+different according to circumstances," he explained, with dignity, if
+not lucidity. "You take Genesis's father. Well, he was married when he
+was sixteen. Then there was a case over in Iowa that lots of people
+know about and nobody thinks anything of. A young man over there in Iowa
+that's seventeen years old began shaving when he was thirteen and shaved
+every day for four years, and now--"
+
+He was interrupted by his father, who was no longer able to contain
+himself. "And now I suppose he's got WHISKERS!" he burst forth. "There's
+an ambition for you! My soul!"
+
+It was Jane who took up the tale. She had been listening with growing
+excitement, her eyes fixed piercingly upon William. "He's got a beard!"
+she cried, alluding not to her brother, but to the fabled Iowan. "I
+heard Willie tell ole Mr. Genesis about it."
+
+"It seems to lie heavily on your mind," Mr. Baxter said to William. "I
+suppose you feel that in the face of such an example, your life between
+the ages of thirteen and seventeen has been virtually thrown away?"
+
+William had again relapsed, but he roused himself feebly. "Sir?" he
+said.
+
+"What IS the matter with him?" Mr. Baxter demanded. "Half the time
+lately he seems to be hibernating, and only responds by a slight
+twitching when poked with a stick. The other half of the time he either
+behaves like I-don't-know-what or talks about children growing whiskers
+in Iowa! Hasn't that girl left town yet?"
+
+William was not so deep in trance that this failed to stir him. He left
+the table.
+
+Mrs. Baxter looked distressed, though, as the meal was about concluded,
+and William had partaken of his share in spite of his dreaminess, she
+had no anxieties connected with his sustenance. As for Mr. Baxter, he
+felt a little remorse, undoubtedly, but he was also puzzled. So plain
+a man was he that he had no perception of the callous brutality of
+the words "THAT GIRL" when applied to some girls. He referred to his
+mystification a little later, as he sat with his evening paper in the
+library.
+
+"I don't know what I said to that tetchy boy to hurt him," he began in
+an apologetic tone. "I don't see that there was anything too rough for
+him to stand in a little sarcasm. He needn't be so sensitive on the
+subject of whiskers, it seems to me."
+
+Mrs. Baxter smiled faintly and shook her head.
+
+It was Jane who responded. She was seated upon the floor, disporting
+herself mildly with her paint-box. "Papa, I know what's the matter with
+Willie," she said.
+
+"Do you?" Mr. Baxter returned. "Well, if you make it pretty short,
+you've got just about long enough to tell us before your bedtime."
+
+"I think he's married," said Jane.
+
+"What!" And her parents united their hilarity.
+
+"I do think he's married," Jane insisted, unmoved. "I think he's married
+with that Miss Pratt."
+
+"Well," said her father, "he does seem upset, and it may be that her
+visit and the idea of whiskers, coming so close together, is more than
+mere coincidence, but I hardly think Willie is married, Jane!"
+
+"Well, then," she returned, thoughtfully, "he's almost married. I know
+that much, anyway."
+
+"What makes you think so?"
+
+"Well, because! I KIND of thought he must be married, or anyways
+somep'm, when he talked to Mr. Genesis this mornin'. He said he knew how
+some people got married in Pennsylvania an' India, an' he said they were
+only seven or eight years old. He said so, an' I heard him; an' he said
+there were eleven people married that were only seventeen, an' this boy
+in Iowa got a full beard an' got married, too. An' he said Mr. Genesis
+was only sixteen when HE was married. He talked all about gettin'
+married when you're seventeen years old, an' he said how people thought
+it was the best thing could happen. So I just KNOW he's almost married!"
+
+Mr. Baxter chuckled, and Mrs. Baxter smiled, but a shade of
+thoughtfulness, a remote anxiety, tell upon the face of the latter.
+
+"You haven't any other reason, have you, Jane?" she asked.
+
+"Yes'm," said Jane, promptly. "An' it's a more reason than any! Miss
+Pratt calls you 'mamma' as if you were HER mamma. She does it when she
+talks to Willie."
+
+"Jane!"
+
+"Yes m, I HEARD her. An' Willie said, 'I don't know what you'll think
+about mother.' He said, 'I don't know what you'll think about mother,'
+to Miss Pratt."
+
+Mrs. Baxter looked a little startled, and her husband frowned. Jane
+mistook their expressions for incredulity. "They DID, mamma," she
+protested. "That's just the way they talked to each other. I heard 'em
+this afternoon, when Willie had papa's cane."
+
+"Maybe they were doing it to tease you, if you were with them," Mr.
+Baxter suggested.
+
+"I wasn't with 'em. I was sailin' my boat, an' they came along, an'
+first they never saw me, an' Willie looked--oh, papa, I wish you'd seen
+him!" Jane rose to her feet in her excitement. "His face was so funny,
+you never saw anything like it! He was walkin' along with it turned
+sideways, an' all the time he kept walkin' frontways, he kept his face
+sideways--like this, papa. Look, papa!" And she gave what she considered
+a faithful imitation of William walking with Miss Pratt. "Look, papa!
+This is the way Willie went. He had it sideways so's he could see Miss.
+Pratt, papa. An' his face was just like this. Look, papa!" She contorted
+her features in a terrifying manner. "Look, papa!"
+
+"Don't, Jane!" her mother exclaimed.
+
+"Well, I haf to show papa how Willie looked, don't I?" said Jane,
+relaxing. "That's just the way he looked. Well, an' then they stopped
+an' talked to me, an' Miss Pratt said, 'It's our little sister.'"
+
+"Did she really?" Mrs. Baxter asked, gravely.
+
+"Yes'm, she did. Soon as she saw who I was, she said, 'Why, it's our
+little sister!' Only she said it that way she talks--sort of foolish.
+'It's our ittle sissy'--somep'm like that, mamma. She said it twice an'
+told me to go home an' get washed up. An' Miss Pratt told Willie--Miss
+Pratt said, 'It isn't mamma's fault Jane's so dirty,' just like that.
+She--"
+
+"Are you sure she said 'our little sister'?" said Mrs. Baxter.
+
+"Why, you can ask Willie! She said it that funny way. 'Our 'ittle
+sissy'; that's what she said. An' Miss Pratt said, 'Ev'rybody would love
+our little sister if mamma washed her in soap an' water!' You can ask
+Willie; that's exackly what Miss Pratt said, an' if you don't believe it
+you can ask HER. If you don't want to believe it, why, you can ask--"
+
+"Hush, dear," said Mrs. Baxter. "All this doesn't mean anything at all,
+especially such nonsense as Willie's thinking of being married. It's
+your bedtime."
+
+"Well, but MAMMA--"
+
+"Was that all they said?" Mr. Baxter inquired.
+
+Jane turned to him eagerly. "They said all lots of things like that,
+papa. They--"
+
+"Nonsense!" Mrs. Baxter in interrupted. "Come, it's bedtime. I'll go up
+with you. You mustn't think such nonsense."
+
+"But, mamma--"
+
+"Come along, Jane!"
+
+Jane was obedient in the flesh, but her spirit was free; her opinions
+were her own. Disappointed in the sensation she had expected to produce,
+she followed her mother out of the room wearing the expression of a
+person who says, "You'll SEE--some day when everything's ruined!"
+
+Mr. Baxter, left alone, laughed quietly, lifted his neglected newspaper
+to obtain the light at the right angle, and then allowed it to languish
+upon his lap again. Frowning, he began to tap the floor with his shoe.
+
+He was trying to remember what things were in his head when he was
+seventeen, and it was difficult. It seemed to him that he had been a
+steady, sensible young fellow--really quite a man--at that age. Looking
+backward at the blur of youthful years, the period from sixteen to
+twenty-five appeared to him as "pretty much all of a piece." He could
+not recall just when he stopped being a boy; it must have been at about
+fifteen, he thought.
+
+All at once he sat up stiffly in his chair, and the paper slid from his
+knee. He remembered an autumn, long ago, when he had decided to abandon
+the educational plans of his parents and become an actor. He had located
+this project exactly, for it dated from the night of his seventeenth
+birthday, when he saw John McCullough play "Virginius."
+
+Even now Mr. Baxter grew a little red as he remembered the remarkable
+letter he had written, a few weeks later, to the manager of a passing
+theatrical company. He had confidently expected an answer, and had made
+his plans to leave town quietly with the company and afterward reassure
+his parents by telegraph. In fact, he might have been on the stage at
+this moment, if that manager had taken him. Mr. Baxter began to look
+nervous.
+
+Still, there is a difference between going on the stage and getting
+married. "I don't know, though!" Mr. Baxter thought. "And Willie's
+certainly not so well balanced in a GENERAL way as I was." He wished
+his wife would come down and reassure him, though of course it was all
+nonsense.
+
+But when Mrs. Baxter came down-stairs she did not reassure him. "Of
+course Jane's too absurd!" she said. "I don't mean that she 'made it
+up'; she never does that, and no doubt this little Miss Pratt did say
+about what Jane thought she said. But it all amounts to nothing."
+
+"Of course!"
+
+"Willie's just going through what several of the other boys about his
+age are going through--like Johnnie Watson and Joe Bullitt and Wallace
+Banks. They all seem to be frantic over her."
+
+"I caught a glimpse of her the day you had her to tea. She's rather
+pretty."
+
+"Adorably! And perhaps Willie has been just a LITTLE bit more frantic
+than the others."
+
+"He certainly seems in a queer state!"
+
+At this his wife's tone became serious. "Do you think he WOULD do as
+crazy a thing as that?"
+
+Mr. Baxter laughed. "Well, I don't know what he'd do it ON! I don't
+suppose he has more than a dollar in his possession."
+
+"Yes, he has," she returned, quickly. "Day before yesterday there was
+a second-hand furniture man here, and I was too busy to see him, but
+I wanted the storeroom in the cellar cleared out, and I told Willie he
+could have whatever the man would pay him for the junk in there, if he'd
+watch to see that they didn't TAKE anything. They found some old pieces
+that I'd forgotten, underneath things, and altogether the man paid
+Willie nine dollars and eighty-five cents."
+
+"But, mercy-me!" exclaimed Mr. Baxter, "the girl may be an idiot, but
+she wouldn't run away and marry a boy just barely seventeen on nine
+dollars and eighty-five cents!"
+
+"Oh no!" said Mrs. Baxter. "At least, I don't THINK so. Of course girls
+do as crazy things as boys sometimes--in their way. I was thinking--"
+She paused. "Of COURSE there couldn't be anything in it, but it did seem
+a little strange."
+
+"What did?"
+
+"Why, just before I came down-stairs, Adelia came for the laundry; and
+I asked her if she'd seen Willie; and she said he'd put on his dark
+suit after dinner, and he went out through the kitchen, carrying his
+suit-case."
+
+"He did?"
+
+"Of course," Mrs. Baxter went on, slowly, "I COULDN'T believe he'd do
+such a thing, but he really is in a PREPOSTEROUS way over this little
+Miss Pratt, and he DID have that money--"
+
+"By George!" Mr. Baxter got upon his feet. "The way he talked at dinner,
+I could come pretty near believing he hasn't any more brains LEFT than
+to get married on nine dollars and eighty-five cents! I wouldn't put it
+past him! By George, I wouldn't!"
+
+"Oh, I don't think he would," she remonstrated, feebly. "Besides, the
+law wouldn't permit it."
+
+Mr. Baxter paced the floor. "Oh, I suppose they COULD manage it. They
+could go to some little town and give false ages and--" He broke off.
+"Adelia was sure he had his suit-case?"
+
+She nodded. "Do you think we'd better go down to the Parchers'? We'd
+just say we came to call, of course, and if--"
+
+"Get your hat on," he said. "I don't think there's anything in it at
+all, but we'd just as well drop down there. It can't HURT anything."
+
+"Of course, I don't think--" she began.
+
+"Neither do I," he interrupted, irascibly. "But with a boy of his age
+crazy enough to think he's in love, how do WE know what 'll happen?
+We're only his parents! Get your hat on."
+
+But when the uneasy couple found themselves upon the pavement before
+the house of the Parchers, they paused under the shade-trees in the
+darkness, and presently decided that it was not necessary to go in.
+Suddenly their uneasiness had fallen from them. From the porch came
+the laughter of several young voices, and then one silvery voice, which
+pretended to be that of a tiny child.
+
+"Oh, s'ame! S'ame on 'oo, big Bruvva Josie-Joe! Mus' be polite to Johnny
+Jump-up, or tant play wiv May and Lola!"
+
+"That's Miss Pratt," whispered Mrs. Baxter. "She's talking to Johnnie
+Watson and Joe Bullitt and May Parcher. Let's go home; it's all right.
+Of course I knew it would be."
+
+"Why, certainly," said Mr. Baxter, as they turned. "Even if Willie were
+as crazy as that, the little girl would have more sense. I wouldn't have
+thought anything of it, if you hadn't told me about the suit-case. That
+looked sort of queer."
+
+She agreed that it did, but immediately added that she had thought
+nothing of it. What had seemed more significant to her was William's
+interest in the early marriage of Genesis's father, and in the Iowa
+beard story, she said. Then she said that it WAS curious about the
+suit-case.
+
+And when they came to their own house again, there was William sitting
+alone and silent upon the steps of the porch.
+
+"I thought you'd gone out, Willie," said his mother, as they paused
+beside him.
+
+"Ma'am?"
+
+"Adelia said you went out, carrying your suit-case."
+
+"Oh yes," he said, languidly. "If you leave clothes at Schwartz's in the
+evening they have 'em pressed in the morning. You said I looked damp at
+dinner, so I took 'em over and left 'em there."
+
+"I see." Mrs. Baxter followed her husband to the door, but she stopped
+on the threshold and called back:
+
+"Don't sit there too long, Willie."
+
+"Ma'am?"
+
+"The dew is falling and it rained so hard to-day--I'm afraid it might be
+damp."
+
+"Ma'am?"
+
+"Come on," Mr. Baxter said to his wife. "He's down on the Parchers'
+porch, not out in front here. Of course he can't hear you. It's three
+blocks and a half."
+
+But William's father was mistaken. Little he knew! William was not upon
+the porch of the Parchers, with May Parcher and Joe Bullitt and Johnnie
+Watson to interfere. He was far from there, in a land where time was
+not. Upon a planet floating in pink mist, and uninhabited--unless old
+Mr. Genesis and some Hindoo princes and the diligent Iowan may have
+established themselves in its remoter regions--William was alone with
+Miss Pratt, in the conservatory. And, after a time, they went together,
+and looked into the door of a room where an indefinite number of little
+boys--all over three years of age--were playing in the firelight upon a
+white-bear rug. For, in the roseate gossamer that boys' dreams are made
+of, William had indeed entered the married state.
+
+His condition was growing worse, every day.
+
+
+
+
+XVIII
+
+THE BIG, FAT LUMMOX
+
+In the morning sunshine, Mrs. Baxter stood at the top of the steps of
+the front porch, addressing her son, who listened impatiently and edged
+himself a little nearer the gate every time he shifted his weight from
+one foot to the other.
+
+"Willie," she said, "you must really pay some attention to the laws of
+health, or you'll never live to be an old man."
+
+"I don't want to live to be an old man," said William, earnestly. "I'd
+rather do what I please now and die a little sooner."
+
+"You talk very foolishly," his mother returned. "Either come back and
+put on some heavier THINGS or take your overcoat."
+
+"My overcoat!" William groaned. "They'd think I was a lunatic, carrying
+an overcoat in August!"
+
+"Not to a picnic," she said.
+
+"Mother, it isn't a picnic, I've told you a hunderd times! You think
+it's one those ole-fashion things YOU used to go to--sit on the damp
+ground and eat sardines with ants all over 'em? This isn't anything like
+that; we just go out on the trolley to this farm-house and have noon
+dinner, and dance all afternoon, and have supper, and then come home on
+the trolley. I guess we'd hardly of got up anything as out o' date as a
+picnic in honor of Miss PRATT!"
+
+Mrs. Baxter seemed unimpressed.
+
+"It doesn't matter whether you call it a picnic or not, Willie. It will
+be cool on the open trolleycar coming home, especially with only those
+white trousers on--"
+
+"Ye gods!" he cried. "I've got other things on besides my trousers! I
+wish you wouldn't always act as if I was a perfect child! Good heavens!
+isn't a person my age supposed to know how much clothes to wear?"
+
+"Well, if he is," she returned, "it's a mere supposition and not founded
+on fact. Don't get so excited, Willie, please; but you'll either have to
+give up the picnic or come in and ch--"
+
+"Change my 'things'!" he wailed. "I can't change my 'things'! I've got
+just twenty minutes to get to May Parcher's--the crowd meets there, and
+they're goin' to take the trolley in front the Parchers' at exactly a
+quarter after 'leven. PLEASE don't keep me any longer, mother--I GOT to
+go!"
+
+She stepped into the hall and returned immediately. "Here's your
+overcoat, Willie."
+
+His expression was of despair. "They'll think I'm a lunatic and they'll
+say so before everybody--and I don't blame 'em! Overcoat on a hot day
+like this! Except me, I don't suppose there was ever anybody lived in
+the world and got to be going on eighteen years old and had to carry his
+silly old overcoat around with him in August--because his mother made
+him!"
+
+"Willie," said Mrs. Baxter, "you don't know how many thousands and
+thousands of mothers for thousands and thousands of years have kept
+their sons from taking thousands and thousands of colds--just this way!"
+
+He moaned. "Well, and I got to be called a lunatic just because you're
+nervous, I s'pose. All right!"
+
+She hung it upon his arm, kissed him; and he departed in a desperate
+manner.
+
+However, having worn his tragic face for three blocks, he halted before
+a corner drug-store, and permitted his expression to improve as he
+gazed upon the window display of My Little Sweetheart All-Tobacco Cuban
+Cigarettes, the Package of Twenty for Ten Cents. William was not a
+smoker--that is to say, he had made the usual boyhood experiments,
+finding them discouraging; and though at times he considered it
+humorously man-about-town to say to a smoking friend, "Well, _I_'ll
+tackle one o' your ole coffin-nails," he had never made a purchase
+of tobacco in his life. But it struck him now that it would be rather
+debonair to disport himself with a package of Little Sweethearts upon
+the excursion.
+
+And the name! It thrilled him inexpressibly, bringing a tenderness into
+his eyes and a glow into his bosom. He felt that when he should smoke
+a Little Sweetheart it would be a tribute to the ineffable visitor for
+whom this party was being given--it would bring her closer to him. His
+young brow grew almost stern with determination, for he made up his
+mind, on the spot, that he would smoke oftener in the future--he would
+become a confirmed smoker, and all his life he would smoke My Little
+Sweetheart All-Tobacco Cuban Cigarettes.
+
+He entered and managed to make his purchase in a matter-of-fact way, as
+if he were doing something quite unemotional; then he said to the clerk:
+
+"Oh, by the by--ah--"
+
+The clerk stared. "Well, what else?"
+
+"I mean," said William, hurriedly, "there's something I wanted to 'tend
+to, now I happen to be here. I was on my way to take this overcoat
+to--to get something altered at the tailor's for next winter. 'Course
+I wouldn't want it till winter, but I thought I might as well get it
+DONE." He paused, laughing carelessly, for greater plausibility. "I
+thought he'd prob'ly want lots of time on the job--he's a slow worker,
+I've noticed--and so I decided I might just as well go ahead and let him
+get at it. Well, so I was on my way there, but I just noticed I only
+got about six minutes more to get to a mighty important engagement I got
+this morning, and I'd like to leave it here and come by and get it on my
+way home, this evening."
+
+"Sure," said the clerk. "Hang it on that hook inside the
+p'scription-counter. There's one there already, b'longs to your friend,
+that young Bullitt fella. He was in here awhile ago and said he wanted
+to leave his because he didn't have time to take it to be pressed in
+time for next winter. Then he went on and joined that crowd in Mr.
+Parcher's yard, around the corner, that's goin' on a trolley-party. I
+says, 'I betcher mother maje carry it,' and he says, 'Oh no. Oh no,' he
+says. 'Honest, I was goin' to get it pressed!' You can hang yours on the
+same nail."
+
+The clerk spoke no more, and went to serve another customer, while
+William stared after him a little uneasily. It seemed that here was a
+man of suspicious nature, though, of course, Joe Bullitt's shallow talk
+about getting an overcoat pressed before winter would not have imposed
+upon anybody. However, William felt strongly that the private life of
+the customers of a store should not be pried into and speculated about
+by employees, and he was conscious of a distaste for this clerk.
+
+Nevertheless, it was with a lighter heart that he left his overcoat
+behind him and stepped out of the side door of the drug-store. That
+brought him within sight of the gaily dressed young people, about thirty
+in number, gathered upon the small lawn beside Mr. Parcher's house.
+
+Miss Pratt stood among them, in heliotrope and white, Flopit nestling in
+her arms. She was encircled by girls who were enthusiastically caressing
+the bored and blinking Flopit; and when William beheld this charming
+group, his breath became eccentric, his knee-caps became cold and
+convulsive, his neck became hot, and he broke into a light perspiration.
+
+She saw him! The small blonde head and the delirious little fluffy hat
+above it shimmered a nod to him. Then his mouth fell unconsciously open,
+and his eyes grew glassy with the intensity of meaning he put into
+the silent response he sent across the picket fence and through the
+interstices of the intervening group. Pressing with his elbow upon the
+package of cigarettes in his pocket, he murmured, inaudibly, "My Little
+Sweetheart, always for you!"--a repetition of his vow that, come what
+might, he would forever remain a loyal smoker of that symbolic brand. In
+fact, William's mental condition had never shown one moment's turn for
+the better since the fateful day of the distracting visitor's arrival.
+
+Mr. Johnnie Watson and Mr. Joe Bullitt met him at the gate and offered
+him hearty greeting. All bickering and dissension among these three had
+passed. The lady was so wondrous impartial that, as time went on, the
+sufferers had come to be drawn together, rather than thrust asunder, by
+their common feeling. It had grown to be a bond uniting them; they
+were not so much rivals as ardent novices serving a single altar, each
+worshiping there without visible gain over the other. Each had even come
+to possess, in the eyes of his two fellows, almost a sacredness as a
+sharer in the celestial glamor; they were tender one with another. They
+were in the last stages.
+
+Johnnie Watson had with him to-day a visitor of his own--a vastly
+overgrown person of eighteen, who, at Johnnie's beckoning, abandoned
+a fair companion of the moment and came forward as William entered the
+gate.
+
+"I want to intradooce you to two of my most int'mut friends, George,"
+said Johnnie, with the anxious gravity of a person about to do something
+important and unfamiliar. "Mr. Baxter, let me intradooce my cousin,
+Mr. Crooper. Mr. Crooper, this is my friend, Mr. Baxter."
+
+The gentlemen shook hands solemnly, saying,
+
+"'M very glad to meet you," and Johnnie turned to Joe Bullitt. "Mr.
+Croo--I mean, Mr. Bullitt, let me intradooce my friend, Mr. Crooper--I
+mean my cousin, Mr. Crooper. Mr. Crooper is a cousin of mine."
+
+"Glad to make your acquaintance, Mr. Crooper," said Joe. "I suppose
+you're a cousin of Johnnie's, then?"
+
+"Yep," said Mr. Crooper, becoming more informal. "Johnnie wrote me
+to come over for this shindig, so I thought I might as well come."
+He laughed loudly, and the others laughed with the same heartiness.
+"Yessir," he added, "I thought I might as well come, 'cause I'm pretty
+apt to be on hand if there's anything doin'!"
+
+"Well, that's right," said William, and while they all laughed again,
+Mr. Crooper struck his cousin a jovial blow upon the back.
+
+"Hi, ole sport!" he cried, "I want to meet that Miss Pratt before we
+start. The car'll be along pretty soon, and I got her picked for the
+girl I'm goin' to sit by."
+
+The laughter of William and Joe Bullitt, designed to express cordiality,
+suddenly became flaccid and died. If Mr. Crooper had been a sensitive
+person he might have perceived the chilling disapproval in their
+glances, for they had just begun to be most unfavorably impressed with
+him. The careless loudness--almost the notoriety--with which he had
+uttered Miss Pratt's name, demanding loosely to be presented to her,
+regardless of the well-known law that a lady must first express some
+wish in such matters--these were indications of a coarse nature sure
+to be more than uncongenial to Miss Pratt. Its presence might make the
+whole occasion distasteful to her--might spoil her day. Both William and
+Joe Bullitt began to wonder why on earth Johnnie Watson didn't have
+any more sense than to invite such a big, fat lummox of a cousin to the
+party.
+
+This severe phrase of theirs, almost simultaneous in the two minds, was
+not wholly a failure as a thumb-nail sketch of Mr. George Crooper. And
+yet there was the impressiveness of size about him, especially about
+his legs and chin. At seventeen and eighteen growth is still going on,
+sometimes in a sporadic way, several parts seeming to have sprouted
+faster than others. Often the features have not quite settled down
+together in harmony, a mouth, for instance, appearing to have gained
+such a lead over the rest of a face, that even a mother may fear it
+can never be overtaken. Voices, too, often seem misplaced; one hears,
+outside the door, the bass rumble of a sinister giant, and a mild boy,
+thin as a cricket, walks in. The contrary was George Crooper's case;
+his voice was an unexpected piping tenor, half falsetto and frequently
+girlish--as surprising as the absurd voice of an elephant.
+
+He had the general outwardness of a vast and lumpy child. His chin had
+so distanced his other features that his eyes, nose, and brow seemed
+almost baby-like in comparison, while his mountainous legs were the
+great part of the rest of him. He was one of those huge, bottle-shaped
+boys who are always in motion in spite of their cumbersomeness. His
+gestures were continuous, though difficult to interpret as bearing
+upon the subject of his equally continuous conversation; and under all
+circumstances he kept his conspicuous legs incessantly moving, whether
+he was going anywhere or remaining in comparatively one spot.
+
+His expression was pathetically offensive, the result of his bland
+confidence in the audible opinions of a small town whereof his father
+was the richest inhabitant--and the one thing about him, even more
+obvious than his chin, his legs, and his spectacular taste in flannels,
+was his perfect trust that he was as welcome to every one as he was to
+his mother. This might some day lead him in the direction of great pain,
+but on the occasion of the "subscription party" for Miss Pratt it gave
+him an advantage.
+
+"When do I get to meet that cutie?" he insisted, as Johnnie Watson moved
+backward from the cousinly arm, which threatened further flailing. "You
+intradooced me to about seven I can't do much FOR, but I want to get the
+howdy business over with this Miss Pratt, so I and she can get things
+started. I'm goin' to keep her busy all day!"
+
+"Well, don't be in such a hurry," said Johnnie, uneasily. "You can meet
+her when we get out in the country--if I get a chance, George."
+
+"No, sir!" George protested, jovially. "I guess you're sad birds over in
+this town, but look out! When I hit a town it don't take long till they
+all hear there's something doin'! You know how I am when I get
+started, Johnnie!" Here he turned upon William, tucking his fat arm
+affectionately through William's thin one. "Hi, sport! Ole Johnnie's so
+slow, YOU toddle me over and get me fixed up with this Miss Pratt, and
+I'll tell her you're the real stuff--after we get engaged!"
+
+He was evidently a true cloud-compeller, this horrible George.
+
+
+
+
+XIX
+
+"I DUNNO WHY IT IS"
+
+William extricated his arm, huskily muttering words which were lost in
+the general outcry, "Car's coming!" The young people poured out through
+the gate, and, as the car stopped, scrambled aboard. For a moment
+everything was hurried and confused. William struggled anxiously to push
+through to Miss Pratt and climb up beside her, but Mr. George Crooper
+made his way into the crowd in a beaming, though bull-like manner, and a
+fat back in a purple-and-white "blazer" flattened William's nose, while
+ponderous heels damaged William's toes; he was shoved back, and just
+managed to clamber upon the foot-board as the car started. The friendly
+hand of Joe Bullitt pulled him to a seat, and William found himself
+rubbing his nose and sitting between Joe and Johnnie Watson, directly
+behind the dashing Crooper and Miss Pratt. Mr. Crooper had already taken
+Flopit upon his lap.
+
+"Dogs are always crazy 'bout me," they heard him say, for his high voice
+was but too audible over all other sounds. "Dogs and chuldren. I dunno
+why it is, but they always take to me. My name's George Crooper, Third,
+Johnnie Watson's cousin. He was tryin' to intradooce me before the car
+came along, but he never got the chance. I guess as this shindig's
+for you, and I'm the only other guest from out o' town, we'll have to
+intradooce ourselves--the two guests of honor, as it were."
+
+Miss Pratt laughed her silvery laugh, murmured politely, and turned no
+freezing glance upon her neighbor. Indeed, it seemed that she was far
+from regarding him with the distaste anticipated by William and Joe
+Bullitt. "Flopit look so toot an' tunnin'," she was heard to remark.
+"Flopit look so 'ittle on dray, big, 'normous man's lap."
+
+Mr. Crooper laughed deprecatingly. "He does look kind of small compared
+with the good ole man that's got charge of him, now! Well, I always was
+a good deal bigger than the fellas I went with. I dunno why it is, but
+I was always kind of quicker, too, as it were--and the strongest in any
+crowd I ever got with. I'm kind of musclebound, I guess, but I don't let
+that interfere with my quickness any. Take me in an automobile, now--I
+got a racin'-car at home--and I keep my head better than most people do,
+as it were. I can kind of handle myself better; I dunno why it is. My
+brains seem to work better than other people's, that's all it is. I
+don't mean that I got more sense, or anything like that; it's just the
+way my brains work; they kind of put me at an advantage, as it were.
+Well, f'rinstance, if I'd been livin' here in this town and joined in
+with the crowd to get up this party, well, it would of been done a good
+deal diff'rent. I won't say better, but diff'rent. That's always the
+way with me if I go into anything, pretty soon I'm running the whole
+shebang; I dunno why it is. The other people might try to run it their
+way for a while, but pretty soon you notice 'em beginning to step out
+of the way for good ole George. I dunno why it is, but that's the way it
+goes. Well, if I'd been running THIS party I'd of had automobiles to go
+out in, not a trolley-car where you all got to sit together--and I'd
+of sent over home for my little racer and I'd of taken you out in her
+myself. I wish I'd of sent for it, anyway. We could of let the rest go
+out in the trolley, and you and I could of got off by ourselves: I'd
+like you to see that little car. Well, anyway, I bet you'd of seen
+something pretty different and a whole lot better if I'd of come over to
+this town in time to get up this party for you!"
+
+"For US," Miss Pratt corrected him, sunnily.
+
+"Bofe strangers--party for us two--all bofe!" And she gave him one of
+her looks.
+
+Mr. Crooper flushed with emotion; he was annexed; he became serious.
+"Say," he said, "that's a mighty smooth hat you got on." And he touched
+the fluffy rim of it with his forefinger. His fat shoulders leaned
+toward her yearningly.
+
+"We'd cert'nly of had a lot better time sizzin' along in that little
+racer I got," he said. "I'd like to had you see how I handle that little
+car. Girls over home, they say they like to go out with me just to watch
+the way I handle her; they say it ain't so much just the ride, but more
+the way I handle that little car. I dunno why it is, but that's what
+they say. That's the way I do anything I make up my mind to tackle,
+though. I don't try to tackle everything--there's lots o' things I
+wouldn't take enough interest in 'em, as it were--but just lemme make up
+my mind once, and it's all off; I dunno why it is. There was a brakeman
+on the train got kind of fresh: he didn't know who I was. Well, I
+just put my hand on his shoulder and pushed him down in his seat like
+this"--he set his hand upon Miss Pratt's shoulder. "I didn't want to hit
+him, because there was women and chuldren in the car, so I just shoved
+my face up close to him, like this. 'I guess you don't know how much
+stock my father's got in this road,' I says. Did he wilt? Well, you
+ought of seen that brakeman when I got through tellin' him who I was!"
+
+"Nassy ole brateman!" said Miss Pratt, with unfailing sympathy.
+
+Mr. Crooper's fat hand, as if unconsciously, gave Miss Pratt's delicate
+shoulder a little pat in reluctant withdrawal. "Well, that's the way
+with me," he said. "Much as I been around this world, nobody ever tried
+to put anything over on me and got away with it. They always come out
+the little end o' the horn; I dunno why it is. Say, that's a mighty
+smooth locket you got on the end o' that chain, there." And again
+stretching forth his hand, in a proprietor-like way, he began to examine
+the locket.
+
+Three hot hearts, just behind, pulsated hatred toward him; for Johnnie
+Watson had perceived his error, and his sentiments were now linked
+to those of Joe Bullitt and William. The unhappiness of these three
+helpless spectators was the more poignant because not only were they
+witnesses of the impression of greatness which George Crooper was
+obviously producing upon Miss Pratt, but they were unable to prevent
+themselves from being likewise impressed.
+
+They were not analytical; they dumbly accepted George at his own rating,
+not even being able to charge him with lack of modesty. Did he not
+always accompany his testimonials to himself with his deprecating
+falsetto laugh and "I dunno why it is," an official disclaimer of merit,
+"as it were"? Here was a formidable candidate, indeed--a traveler, a man
+of the world, with brains better and quicker than other people's brains;
+an athlete, yet knightly--he would not destroy even a brakeman in the
+presence of women and children--and, finally, most enviable and deadly,
+the owner and operator of a "little racer"! All this glitter was not far
+short of overpowering; and yet, though accepting it as fact, the woeful
+three shared the inconsistent belief that in spite of everything George
+was nothing but a big, fat lummox. For thus they even rather loudly
+whispered of him--almost as if hopeful that Miss Pratt, and mayhap
+George himself, might overhear.
+
+Impotent their seething! The overwhelming Crooper pursued his conquering
+way. He leaned more and more toward the magnetic girl, his growing
+tenderness having that effect upon him, and his head inclining so
+far that his bedewed brow now and then touched the fluffy hat. He was
+constitutionally restless, but his movements never ended by placing a
+greater distance between himself and Miss Pratt, though they sometimes
+discommoded Miss Parcher, who sat at the other side of him--a side of
+him which appeared to be without consciousness. He played naively with
+Miss Pratt's locket and with the filmy border of her collar; he flicked
+his nose for some time with her little handkerchief, loudly sniffing its
+scent; and finally he became interested in a ring she wore, removed it,
+and tried unsuccessfully to place it upon one of his own fingers.
+
+"I've worn lots o' girls' rings on my watch-fob. I'd let 'em wear mine
+on a chain or something. I guess they like to do that with me," he said.
+"I dunno why it is."
+
+At this subtle hint the three unfortunates held their breath, and then
+lost it as the lovely girl acquiesced in the horrible exchange. As for
+William, life was of no more use to him. Out of the blue heaven of that
+bright morning's promise had fallen a pall, draping his soul in black
+and purple. He had been horror-stricken when first the pudgy finger of
+George Crooper had touched the fluffy edge of that sacred little hat;
+then, during George's subsequent pawings and leanings, William felt that
+he must either rise and murder or go mad. But when the exchange of rings
+was accomplished, his spirit broke and even resentment oozed away. For a
+time there was no room in him for anything except misery.
+
+Dully, William's eyes watched the fat shoulders hitching and twitching,
+while the heavy arms flourished in gesture and in further pawings.
+Again and again were William's ears afflicted with, "I dunno why it is,"
+following upon tribute after tribute paid by Mr. Crooper to himself, and
+received with little cries of admiration and sweet child-words on the
+part of Miss Pratt. It was a long and accursed ride.
+
+
+
+
+XX
+
+SYDNEY CARTON
+
+At the farm-house where the party were to dine, Miss Pratt with joy
+discovered a harmonium in the parlor, and, seating herself, with all the
+girls, Flopit, and Mr. George Crooper gathered around her, she played
+an accompaniment, while George, in a thin tenor of detestable sweetness,
+sang "I'm Falling in Love with Some One."
+
+His performance was rapturously greeted, especially by the accompanist.
+"Oh, wunnerfulest Untle Georgiecums!" she cried, for that was now the
+gentleman's name. "If Johnnie McCormack hear Untle Georgiecums he
+go shoot umself dead--Bang!" She looked round to where three figures
+hovered morosely in the rear. "Tum on, sin' chorus, Big Bruvva
+Josie-Joe, Johnny Jump-up, an' Ickle Boy Baxter. All over adain, Untle
+Georgiecums! Boys an' dirls all sin' chorus. Tummence!"
+
+And so the heartrending performance continued until it was stopped by
+Wallace Banks, the altruistic and perspiring youth who had charge of
+the subscription-list for the party, and the consequent collection of
+assessments. This entitled Wallace to look haggard and to act as master
+of ceremonies. He mounted a chair.
+
+"Ladies and gentlemen," he bellowed, "I want to say--that is--ah--I am
+requested to announce t that before dinner we're all supposed to take a
+walk around the farm and look at things, as this is supposed to be kind
+of a model farm or supposed to be something like that. There's a Swedish
+lady named Anna going to show us around. She's out in the yard waiting,
+so please follow her to inspect the farm."
+
+To inspect a farm was probably the least of William's desires. He wished
+only to die in some quiet spot and to have Miss Pratt told about it in
+words that would show her what she had thrown away. But he followed
+with the others, in the wake of the Swedish lady named Anna, and as they
+stood in the cavernous hollow of the great barn he found his condition
+suddenly improved.
+
+Miss Pratt turned to him unexpectedly and placed Flopit in his arms.
+"Keep p'eshus Flopit cozy," she whispered. "Flopit love ole friends
+best!"
+
+William's heart leaped, while a joyous warmth spread all over him. And
+though the execrable lummox immediately propelled Miss Pratt forward--by
+her elbow--to hear the descriptive remarks of the Swedish lady named
+Anna, William's soul remained uplifted and entranced. She had not said
+"like"; she had said, "Flopit LOVE ole friends best"! William pressed
+forward valiantly, and placed himself as close as possible upon the
+right of Miss Pratt, the lummox being upon her left. A moment later,
+William wished that he had remained in the rear.
+
+This was due to the unnecessary frankness of the Swedish lady
+named Anna, who was briefly pointing out the efficiency of various
+agricultural devices. Her attention being diverted by some effusions of
+pride on the part of a passing hen, she thought fit to laugh and say:
+
+"She yust laid egg."
+
+William shuddered. This grossness in the presence of Miss Pratt was
+unthinkable. His mind refused to deal with so impossible a situation; he
+could not accept it as a fact that such words had actually been uttered
+in such a presence. And yet it was the truth; his incredulous ears
+still sizzled. "She yust laid egg!" His entire skin became flushed; his
+averted eyes glazed themselves with shame.
+
+He was not the only person shocked by the ribaldry of the Swedish lady
+named Anna. Joe Bullitt and Johnnie Watson, on the outskirts of the
+group, went to Wallace Banks, drew him aside, and, with feverish
+eloquence, set his responsibilities before him. It was his duty, they
+urged, to have an immediate interview with this free-spoken Anna and
+instruct her in the proprieties. Wallace had been almost as horrified as
+they by her loose remark, but he declined the office they proposed for
+him, offering, however, to appoint them as a committee with authority
+in the matter--whereupon they retorted with unreasonable indignation,
+demanding to know what he took them for.
+
+Unconscious of the embarrassment she had caused in these several
+masculine minds, the Swedish lady named Anna led the party onward,
+continuing her agricultural lecture. William walked mechanically, his
+eyes averted and looking at no one. And throughout this agony he was
+burningly conscious of the blasphemed presence of Miss Pratt beside him.
+
+Therefore, it was with no little surprise, when the party came out of
+the barn, that William beheld Miss Pratt, not walking at his side, but
+on the contrary, sitting too cozily with George Crooper upon a fallen
+tree at the edge of a peach-orchard just beyond the barn-yard. It was
+Miss Parcher who had been walking beside him, for the truant couple had
+made their escape at the beginning of the Swedish lady's discourse.
+
+In vain William murmured to himself, "Flopit love ole friends best."
+Purple and black again descended upon his soul, for he could not
+disguise from himself the damnatory fact that George had flitted with
+the lady, while he, wretched William, had been permitted to take care of
+the dog!
+
+A spark of dignity still burned within him. He strode to the barn-yard
+fence, and, leaning over it, dropped Flopit rather brusquely at his
+mistress's feet. Then, without a word even without a look--William
+walked haughtily away, continuing his stern progress straight through
+the barn-yard gate, and thence onward until he found himself in solitude
+upon the far side of a smoke-house, where his hauteur vanished.
+
+Here, in the shade of a great walnut-tree which sheltered the little
+building, he gave way--not to tears, certainly, but to faint murmurings
+and little heavings under impulses as ancient as young love itself. It
+is to be supposed that William considered his condition a lonely one,
+but if all the seventeen-year-olds who have known such halfhours could
+have shown themselves to him then, he would have fled from the mere
+horror of billions. Alas! he considered his sufferings a new invention
+in the world, and there was now inspired in his breast a monologue so
+eloquently bitter that it might deserve some such title as A Passion
+Beside the Smoke-house. During the little time that William spent in
+this sequestration he passed through phases of emotion which would have
+kept an older man busy for weeks and left him wrecked at the end of
+them.
+
+William's final mood was one of beautiful resignation with a kick in
+it; that is, he nobly gave her up to George and added irresistibly that
+George was a big, fat lummox! Painting pictures, such as the billions
+of other young sufferers before him have painted, William saw himself
+a sad, gentle old bachelor at the family fireside, sometimes making the
+sacrifice of his reputation so that SHE and the children might never
+know the truth about George; and he gave himself the solace of a fierce
+scene or two with George: "Remember, it is for them, not you--you
+THING!"
+
+After this human little reaction he passed to a higher field of romance.
+He would die for George and then she would bring the little boy she had
+named William to the lonely headstone--Suddenly William saw himself in
+his true and fitting character--Sydney Carton! He had lately read A Tale
+of Two Cities, immediately re-reading until, as he would have said,
+he "knew it by heart"; and even at the time he had seen resemblances
+between himself and the appealing figure of Carton. Now that the
+sympathy between them was perfected by Miss Pratt's preference for
+another, William decided to mount the scaffold in place of George
+Crooper. The scene became actual to him, and, setting one foot upon a
+tin milk-pail which some one had carelessly left beside the smoke-house,
+he lifted his eyes to the pitiless blue sky and unconsciously assumed
+the familiar attitude of Carton on the steps of the guillotine. He spoke
+aloud those great last words:
+
+"It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a
+far, far better rest that I go to--"
+
+A whiskered head on the end of a long, corrugated red neck protruded
+from the smokehouse door.
+
+"What say?" it inquired, huskily.
+
+"Nun-nothing!" stammered William.
+
+Eyes above whiskers became fierce. "You take your feet off that
+milk-bucket. Say! This here's a sanitary farm. 'Ain't you got any more
+sense 'n to go an'--"
+
+But William had abruptly removed his foot and departed.
+
+He found the party noisily established in the farm-house at two long
+tables piled with bucolic viands already being violently depleted.
+Johnnie Watson had kept a chair beside himself vacant for William.
+Johnnie was in no frame of mind to sit beside any "chattering girl,"
+and he had protected himself by Joe Bullitt upon his right and the empty
+seat upon his left. William took it, and gazed upon the nearer foods
+with a slight renewal of animation.
+
+He began to eat; he continued to eat; in fact, he did well. So did his
+two comrades. Not that the melancholy of these three was dispersed--far
+from it! With ineffaceable gloom they ate chicken, both white meat and
+dark, drumsticks, wishbones, and livers; they ate corn-on-the-cob, many
+ears, and fried potatoes and green peas and string-beans; they ate peach
+preserves and apricot preserves and preserved pears; they ate biscuits
+with grape jelly and biscuits with crabapple jelly; they ate apple sauce
+and apple butter and apple pie. They ate pickles, both cucumber pickles
+and pickles made of watermelon rind; they ate pickled tomatoes, pickled
+peppers, also pickled onions. They ate lemon pie.
+
+At that, they were no rivals to George Crooper, who was a real eater.
+Love had not made his appetite ethereal to-day, and even the attending
+Swedish lady named Anna felt some apprehension when it came to George
+and the gravy, though she was accustomed to the prodigies performed in
+this line by the robust hands on the farm. George laid waste his section
+of the table, and from the beginning he allowed himself scarce time
+to say, "I dunno why it is." The pretty companion at his side at first
+gazed dumfounded; then, with growing enthusiasm for what promised to be
+a really magnificent performance, she began to utter little ejaculations
+of wonder and admiration. With this music in his ears, George outdid
+himself. He could not resist the temptation to be more and more
+astonishing as a heroic comedian, for these humors sometimes come upon
+vain people at country dinners.
+
+George ate when he had eaten more than he needed; he ate long after
+every one understood why he was so vast; he ate on and on sheerly as
+a flourish--as a spectacle. He ate even when he himself began to
+understand that there was daring in what he did, for his was a toreador
+spirit so long as he could keep bright eyes fastened upon him.
+
+Finally, he ate to decide wagers made upon his gorging, though at times
+during this last period his joviality deserted him. Anon his damp brow
+would be troubled, and he knew moments of thoughtfulness.
+
+
+
+
+XXI
+
+MY LITTLE SWEETHEARTS
+
+When George did stop, it was abruptly, during one of these intervals of
+sobriety, and he and Miss Pratt came out of the house together rather
+quietly, joining one of the groups of young people chatting with
+after-dinner languor under the trees. However, Mr. Crooper began to
+revive presently, in the sweet air of outdoors, and, observing some
+of the more flashing gentlemen lighting cigarettes, he was moved to
+laughter. He had not smoked since his childhood--having then been bonded
+through to twenty-one with a pledge of gold--and he feared that these
+smoking youths might feel themselves superior. Worse, Miss Pratt might
+be impressed, therefore he laughed in scorn, saying:
+
+"Burnin' up ole trash around here, I expect!" He sniffed searchingly.
+"Somebody's set some ole rags on fire." Then, as in discovery, he cried,
+"Oh no, only cigarettes!"
+
+Miss Pratt, that tactful girl, counted four smokers in the group about
+her, and only one abstainer, George. She at once defended the smokers,
+for it is to be feared that numbers always had weight with her. "Oh, but
+cigarettes is lubly smell!" she said. "Untle Georgiecums maybe be too
+'ittle boy for smokings!"
+
+This archness was greeted loudly by the smokers, and Mr. Crooper was
+put upon his mettle. He spoke too quickly to consider whether or no the
+facts justified his assertion. "Me? I don't smoke paper and ole carpets.
+I smoke cigars!"
+
+He had created the right impression, for Miss Pratt clapped her hands.
+"Oh, 'plendid! Light one, Untle Georgiecums! Light one ever 'n' ever so
+quick! P'eshus Flopit an' me we want see dray, big, 'normous man smoke
+dray, big, 'normous cigar!"
+
+William and Johnnie Watson, who had been hovering morbidly, unable to
+resist the lodestone, came nearer, Johnnie being just in time to hear
+his cousin's reply.
+
+"I--I forgot my cigar-case."
+
+Johnnie's expression became one of biting skepticism. "What you talkin'
+about, George? Didn't you promise Uncle George you'd never smoke till
+you're of age, and Uncle George said he'd give you a thousand dollars on
+your twenty-first birthday? What 'd you say about your 'cigar-case'?"
+
+George felt that he was in a tight place, and the lovely eyes of Miss
+Pratt turned upon him questioningly. He could not flush, for he was
+already so pink after his exploits with unnecessary nutriment that more
+pinkness was impossible. He saw that the only safety for him lay in
+boisterous prevarication. "A thousand dollars!" he laughed loudly. "I
+thought that was real money when I was ten years old! It didn't stand in
+MY way very long, I guess! Good ole George wanted his smoke, and he went
+after it! You know how I am, Johnnie, when I go after anything. I been
+smokin' cigars I dunno how long!" Glancing about him, his eye became
+reassured; it was obvious that even Johnnie had accepted this airy
+statement as the truth, and to clinch plausibility he added: "When I
+smoke, I smoke! I smoke cigars straight along--light one right on the
+stub of the other. I only wish I had some with me, because I miss 'em
+after a meal. I'd give a good deal for something to smoke right now! I
+don't mean cigarettes; I don't want any paper--I want something that's
+all tobacco!"
+
+William's pale, sad face showed a hint of color. With a pang he
+remembered the package of My Little Sweetheart All-Tobacco Cuban
+Cigarettes (the Package of Twenty for Ten Cents) which still reposed,
+untouched, in the breast pocket of his coat. His eyes smarted a little
+as he recalled the thoughts and hopes that had accompanied the purchase;
+but he thought, "What would Sydney Carton do?"
+
+William brought forth the package of My Little Sweetheart All-Tobacco
+Cuban Cigarettes and placed it in the large hand of George Crooper. And
+this was a noble act, for William believed that George really wished to
+smoke. "Here," he said, "take these; they're all tobacco. I'm goin' to
+quit smokin', anyway." And, thinking of the name, he added, gently, with
+a significance lost upon all his hearers, "I'm sure you ought to have
+'em instead of me."
+
+Then he went away and sat alone upon the fence.
+
+"Light one, light one!" cried Miss Pratt. "Ev'ybody mus' be happy, an'
+dray, big, 'normous man tan't be happy 'less he have his all-tobatto
+smote. Light it, light it!"
+
+George drew as deep a breath as his diaphragm, strangely oppressed since
+dinner, would permit, and then bravely lit a Little Sweetheart. There
+must have been some valiant blood in him, for, as he exhaled the smoke,
+he covered a slight choking by exclaiming, loudly: "THAT'S good! That's
+the ole stuff! That's what I was lookin' for!"
+
+Miss Pratt was entranced. "Oh, 'plendid!" she cried, watching him with
+fascinated eyes. "Now take dray, big, 'normous puffs! Take dray, big,
+'NORMOUS puffs!"
+
+George took great, big, enormous puffs.
+
+She declared that she loved to watch men smoke, and William's heart, as
+he sat on the distant fence, was wrung and wrung again by the vision of
+her playful ecstasies. But when he saw her holding what was left of the
+first Little Sweetheart for George to light a second at its expiring
+spark, he could not bear it. He dropped from the fence and moped away to
+be out of sight once more. This was his darkest hour.
+
+Studiously avoiding the vicinity of the smokehouse, he sought the little
+orchard where he had beheld her sitting with George; and there he sat
+himself in sorrowful reverie upon the selfsame fallen tree. How long
+he remained there is uncertain, but he was roused by the sound of music
+which came from the lawn before the farmhouse. Bitterly he smiled,
+remembering that Wallace Banks had engaged Italians with harp, violin,
+and flute, promising great things for dancing on a fresh-clipped lawn--a
+turf floor being no impediment to seventeen's dancing. Music! To see her
+whirling and smiling sunnily in the fat grasp of that dancing bear! He
+would stay in this lonely orchard; SHE would not miss him.
+
+But though he hated the throbbing music and the sound of the laughing
+voices that came to him, he could not keep away--and when he reached the
+lawn where the dancers were, he found Miss Pratt moving rhythmically in
+the thin grasp of Wallace Banks. Johnnie Watson approached, and spoke in
+a low tone, tinged with spiteful triumph.
+
+"Well, anyway, ole fat George didn't get the first dance with her! She's
+the guest of honor, and Wallace had a right to it because he did all the
+work. He came up to 'em and ole fat George couldn't say a thing. Wallace
+just took her right away from him. George didn't say anything at all,
+but I s'pose after this dance he'll be rushin' around again and nobody
+else 'll have a chance to get near her the rest of the afternoon. My
+mother told me I ought to invite him over here, out I had no business
+to do it; he don't know the first principles of how to act in a town he
+don't live in!"
+
+"Where'd he go?" William asked, listlessly, for Mr. Crooper was nowhere
+in sight.
+
+"I don't know--he just walked off without sayin' anything. But he'll be
+back, time this dance is over, never you fear, and he'll grab her again
+and--What's the matter with Joe?"
+
+Joseph Bullitt had made his appearance at a corner of the house, some
+distance from where they stood. His face was alert under the impulse of
+strong excitement, and he beckoned fiercely. "Come here!" And, when they
+had obeyed, "He's around back of the house by a kind of shed," said Joe.
+"I think something's wrong. Come on, I'll show him to you."
+
+But behind the house, whither they followed him in vague, strange hope,
+he checked them. "LOOK THERE!" he said.
+
+His pointing finger was not needed. Sounds of paroxysm drew their
+attention sufficiently--sounds most poignant, soul-rending, and
+lugubrious. William and Johnnie perceived the large person of Mr.
+Crooper; he was seated upon the ground, his back propped obliquely
+against the smoke-house, though this attitude was not maintained
+constantly.
+
+Facing him, at a little distance, a rugged figure in homely garments
+stood leaning upon a hoe and regarding George with a cold interest. The
+apex of this figure was a volcanic straw hat, triangular in profile and
+coned with an open crater emitting reddish wisps, while below the
+hat were several features, but more whiskers, at the top of a long,
+corrugated red neck of sterling worth. A husky voice issued from the
+whiskers, addressing George.
+
+"I seen you!" it said. "I seen you eatin'! This here farm is supposed to
+be a sanitary farm, and you'd ought of knew better. Go it, doggone you!
+Go it!"
+
+George complied. And three spectators, remaining aloof, but watching
+zealously, began to feel their lost faith in Providence returning into
+them; their faces brightened slowly, and without relapse. It was a
+visible thing how the world became fairer and better in their eyes
+during that little while they stood there. And William saw that his
+Little Sweethearts had been an inspired purchase, after all; they had
+delivered the final tap upon a tottering edifice. George's deeds at
+dinner had unsettled, but Little Sweethearts had overthrown--and now
+there was awful work among the ruins, to an ironical accompaniment of
+music from the front yard, where people danced in heaven's sunshine!
+
+This accompaniment came to a stop, and Johnnie Watson jumped. He seized
+each of his companions by a sleeve and spoke eagerly, his eyes glowing
+with a warm and brotherly light. "Here!" he cried. "We better get around
+there--this looks like it was goin' to last all afternoon. Joe, you
+get the next dance with her, and just about time the music slows up you
+dance her around so you can stop right near where Bill will be standin',
+so Bill can get her quick for the dance after that. Then, Bill, you do
+the same for me, and I'll do the same for Joe again, and then, Joe, you
+do it for Bill again, and then Bill for me--and so on. If we go in right
+now and work together we can crowd the rest out, and there won't anybody
+else get to dance with her the whole day! Come on quick!"
+
+United in purpose, the three ran lightly to the dancing-lawn, and Mr.
+Bullitt was successful, after a little debate, in obtaining the next
+dance with the lovely guest of the day. "I did promise big Untle
+Georgiecums," she said, looking about her.
+
+"Well, I don't think he'll come," said Joe. "That is, I'm pretty sure he
+won't."
+
+A shade fell upon the exquisite face. "No'ty. Bruvva Josie-Joe! The Men
+ALWAYS tum when Lola promises dances. Mustn't be rude!"
+
+"Well--" Joe began, when he was interrupted by the Swedish lady named
+Anna, who spoke to them from the steps of the house. Of the merrymakers
+they were the nearest.
+
+"Dot pick fella," said Anna, "dot one dot eats--we make him in a
+petroom. He holler! He tank he neet some halp."
+
+"Does he want a doctor?" Joe asked.
+
+"Doctor? No! He want make him in a amyoulance for hospital!"
+
+"I'll go look at him," Johnnie Watson volunteered, running up. "He's my
+cousin, and I guess I got to take the responsibility."
+
+Miss Pratt paid the invalid the tribute of one faintly commiserating
+glance toward the house. "Well," she said, "if people would rather eat
+too much than dance!" She meant "dance with ME!" though she thought
+it prettier not to say so. "Come on, Bruvva Josie-Joe!" she cried,
+joyously.
+
+And a little later Johnnie Watson approached her where she stood with
+a restored and refulgent William, about to begin the succeeding dance.
+Johnnie dropped into her hand a ring, receiving one in return. "I
+thought I better GET it," he said, offering no further explanation.
+"I'll take care of his until we get home. He's all right," said Johnnie,
+and then perceiving a sudden advent of apprehension upon the sensitive
+brow of William, he went on reassuringly: "He's doin' as well as anybody
+could expect; that is--after the crazy way he DID! He's always been
+considered the dumbest one in all our relations--never did know how
+to act. I don't mean he's exactly not got his senses, or ought to be
+watched, anything like that--and of course he belongs to an awful
+good family--but he's just kind of the black sheep when it comes to
+intelligence, or anything like that. I got him as comfortable as a
+person could be, and they're givin' him hot water and mustard and stuff,
+but what he needs now is just to be kind of quiet. It'll do him a lot o'
+good," Johnnie concluded, with a spark in his voice, "to lay there the
+rest of the afternoon and get quieted down, kind of."
+
+"You don't think there's any--" William began, and, after a pause,
+continued--"any hope--of his getting strong enough to come out and dance
+afterwhile?"
+
+Johnnie shook his head. "None in the world!" he said, conclusively. "The
+best we can do for him is to let him entirely alone till after supper,
+and then ask nobody to sit on the back seat of the trolley-car goin'
+home, so we can make him comfortable back there, and let him kind of
+stretch out by himself."
+
+Then gaily tinkled harp, gaily sang flute and violin! Over the
+greensward William lightly bore his lady, while radiant was the cleared
+sky above the happy dancers. William's fingers touched those delicate
+fingers; the exquisite face smiled rosily up to him; undreamable
+sweetness beat rhythmically upon his glowing ears; his feet moved in a
+rhapsody of companionship with hers. They danced and danced and danced!
+
+Then Joe danced with her, while William and Johnnie stood with hands
+upon each other's shoulders and watched, mayhap with longing, but
+without spite; then Johnnie danced with her while Joe and William
+watched--and then William danced with her again.
+
+So passed the long, ineffable afternoon away--ah, Seventeen!
+
+"... 'Jav a good time at the trolley-party?" the clerk in the corner
+drug-store inquired that evening.
+
+"Fine!" said William, taking his overcoat from the hook where he had
+left it.
+
+"How j' like them Little Sweethearts I sold you?"
+
+"FINE!" said William.
+
+
+
+
+XXII
+
+FORESHADOWINGS
+
+Now the last rose had blown; the dandelion globes were long since on the
+wind; gladioli and golden-glow and salvia were here; the season moved
+toward asters and the goldenrod. This haloed summer still idled on
+its way, yet all the while sped quickly; like some languid lady in an
+elevator.
+
+There came a Sunday--very hot.
+
+Mr. and Mrs. Baxter, having walked a scorched half-mile from church,
+drooped thankfully into wicker chairs upon their front porch, though
+Jane, who had accompanied them, immediately darted away, swinging her
+hat by its ribbon and skipping as lithesomely as if she had just come
+forth upon a cool morning.
+
+"I don't know how she does it!" her father moaned, glancing after her
+and drying his forehead temporarily upon a handkerchief. "That would
+merely kill me dead, after walking in this heat."
+
+Then, for a time, the two were content to sit in silence, nodding
+to occasional acquaintances who passed in the desultory after-church
+procession. Mr. Baxter fanned himself with sporadic little bursts of
+energy which made his straw hat creak, and Mrs. Baxter sighed with the
+heat, and gently rocked her chair.
+
+But as a group of five young people passed along the other side of the
+street Mr. Baxter abruptly stopped fanning himself, and, following the
+direction of his gaze, Mrs. Baxter ceased to rock. In half-completed
+attitudes they leaned slightly forward, sharing one of those pauses of
+parents who unexpectedly behold their offspring.
+
+"My soul!" said William's father. "Hasn't that girl gone home YET?"
+
+"He looks pale to me," Mrs. Baxter murmured, absently. "I don't think he
+seems at all well, lately."
+
+During seventeen years Mr. Baxter had gradually learned not to protest
+anxieties of this kind, unless he desired to argue with no prospect
+of ever getting a decision. "Hasn't she got any HOME?" he demanded,
+testily. "Isn't she ever going to quit visiting the Parchers and let
+people have a little peace?"
+
+Mrs. Baxter disregarded this outburst as he had disregarded her remark
+about William's pallor. "You mean Miss Pratt?" she inquired, dreamily,
+her eyes following the progress of her son. "No, he really doesn't look
+well at all."
+
+"Is she going to visit the Parchers all summer?" Mr. Baxter insisted.
+
+"She already has, about," said Mrs. Baxter.
+
+"Look at that boy!" the father grumbled. "Mooning along with those other
+moon-calves--can't even let her go to church alone! I wonder how many
+weeks of time, counting it out in hours, he's wasted that way this
+summer?"
+
+"Oh, I don't know! You see, he never goes there in the evening."
+
+"What of that? He's there all day, isn't he? What do they find to talk
+about? That's the mystery to me! Day after day; hours and hours--My
+soul! What do they SAY?"
+
+Mrs. Baxter laughed indulgently. "People are always wondering that about
+the other ages. Poor Willie! I think that a great deal of the time their
+conversation would be probably about as inconsequent as it is now. You
+see Willie and Joe Bullitt are walking one on each side of Miss Pratt,
+and Johnnie Watson has to walk behind with May Parcher. Joe and Johnnie
+are there about as much as Willie is, and, of course, it's often his
+turn to be nice to May Parcher. He hasn't many chances to be tete-a-tete
+with Miss Pratt."
+
+"Well, she ought to go home. I want that boy to get back into his
+senses. He's in an awful state."
+
+"I think she is going soon," said Mrs. Baxter. "The Parchers are to have
+a dance for her Friday night, and I understand there's to be a floor
+laid in the yard and great things. It's a farewell party."
+
+"That's one mercy, anyhow!"
+
+"And if you wonder what they say," she resumed, "why, probably they're
+all talking about the party. And when Willie IS alone with her--well,
+what does anybody say?" Mrs. Baxter interrupted herself to laugh. "Jane,
+for instance--she's always fascinated by that darky, Genesis, when he's
+at work here in the yard, and they have long, long talks; I've seen them
+from the window. What on earth do you suppose they talk about? That's
+where Jane is now. She knew I told Genesis I'd give him something if
+he'd come and freeze the ice-cream for us to-day, and when we got here
+she heard the freezer and hopped right around there. If you went out to
+the back porch you'd find them talking steadily--but what on earth about
+I couldn't guess to save my life!"
+
+And yet nothing could have been simpler: as a matter of fact, Jane and
+Genesis (attended by Clematis) were talking about society. That is to
+say, their discourse was not sociologic; rather it was of the frivolous
+and elegant. Watteau prevailed with them over John Stuart Mill--in a
+word, they spoke of the beau monde.
+
+Genesis turned the handle of the freezer with his left hand, allowing
+his right the freedom of gesture which was an intermittent necessity
+when he talked. In the matter of dress, Genesis had always been among
+the most informal of his race, but to-day there was a change almost
+unnerving to the Caucasian eye. He wore a balloonish suit of purple,
+strangely scalloped at pocket and cuff, and more strangely decorated
+with lines of small parasite buttons, in color blue, obviously buttons
+of leisure. His bulbous new shoes flashed back yellow fire at the
+embarrassed sun, and his collar (for he had gone so far) sent forth
+other sparkles, playing upon a polished surface over an inner graining
+of soot. Beneath it hung a simple, white, soiled evening tie, draped in
+a manner unintended by its manufacturer, and heavily overburdened by a
+green glass medallion of the Emperor Tiberius, set in brass.
+
+"Yesm," said Genesis. "Now I'm in 'at Swim--flyin' roun' ev'y night wif
+all lem blue-vein people--I say, 'Mus' go buy me some blue-vein clo'es!
+Ef I'm go'n' a START, might's well start HIGH!' So firs', I buy me
+thishere gol' necktie pin wi' thishere lady's face carved out o' green
+di'mon', sittin' in the middle all 'at gol'. 'Nen I buy me pair Royal
+King shoes. I got a frien' o' mine, thishere Blooie Bowers; he say Royal
+King shoes same kine o' shoes HE wear, an' I walk straight in 'at sto'
+where they keep 'em at. 'Don' was'e my time showin' me no ole-time
+shoes,' I say. 'Run out some them big, yella, lump-toed Royal Kings
+befo' my eyes, an' firs' pair fit me I pay price, an' wear 'em right off
+on me!' 'Nen I got me thishere suit o' clo'es--OH, oh! Sign on 'em in
+window: 'Ef you wish to be bes'-dress' man in town take me home fer six
+dolluhs ninety-sevum cents.' ''At's kine o' suit Genesis need,' I say.
+'Ef Genesis go'n' a start dressin' high, might's well start top!'"
+
+Jane nodded gravely, comprehending the reasonableness of this view.
+"What made you decide to start, Genesis?" she asked, earnestly. "I mean,
+how did it happen you began to get this way?"
+
+"Well, suh, 'tall come 'bout right like kine o' slidin' into it 'stid
+o' hoppin' an' jumpin'. I'z spen' the even' at 'at lady's house, Fanny,
+what cook nex' do', las' year. Well, suh, 'at lady Fanny, she quit
+privut cookin', she kaytliss--"
+
+"She's what?" Jane asked. "What's that mean, Genesis--kaytliss?"
+
+"She kaytuhs," he explained. "Ef it's a man you call him kaytuh; ef it's
+a lady, she's a kaytliss. She does kaytun fer all lem blue-vein fam'lies
+in town. She make ref'eshmuns, bring waituhs--'at's kaytun. You' maw
+give big dinnuh, she have Fanny kaytuh, an' don't take no trouble 'tall
+herself. Fanny take all 'at trouble."
+
+"I see," said Jane. "But I don't see how her bein' a kaytliss started
+you to dressin' so high, Genesis."
+
+"Thishere way. Fanny say, 'Look here, Genesis, I got big job t'morra
+night an' I'm man short, 'count o' havin' to have a 'nouncer.'"
+
+"A what?"
+
+"Fanny talk jes' that way. Goin' be big dinnuh-potty, an' thishere
+blue-vein fam'ly tell Fanny they want whole lot extry sploogin'; tell
+her put fine-lookin' cullud man stan' by drawin'-room do'--ask ev'ybody
+name an' holler out whatever name they say, jes' as they walk in.
+Thishere fam'ly say they goin' show what's what, 'nis town, an' they
+boun' Fanny go git 'em a 'nouncer. 'Well, what's mattuh YOU doin' 'at
+'nouncin'?' Fanny say. 'Who--me?' I tell her. 'Yes, you kin, too!' she
+say, an' she say she len' me 'at waituh suit yoosta b'long ole Henry
+Gimlet what die' when he owin' Fanny sixteen dolluhs--an' Fanny tuck
+an' keep 'at waituh suit. She use 'at suit on extry waituhs when she got
+some on her hands what 'ain't got no waituh suit. 'You wear 'at suit,'
+Fanny say, 'an' you be good 'nouncer, 'cause you' a fine, big man, an'
+got a big, gran' voice; 'nen you learn befo' long be a waituh, Genesis,
+an' git dolluh an' half ev'y even' you waitin ', 'sides all 'at money
+you make cuttin' grass daytime.' Well, suh, I'z stan' up doin' 'at
+'nouncin' ve'y nex' night. White lady an' ge'lmun walk todes my do', I
+step up to 'em--I step up to 'em thisaway."
+
+Here Genesis found it pleasant to present the scene with some
+elaboration. He dropped the handle of the freezer, rose, assumed a
+stately, but ingratiating, expression, and "stepped up" to the imagined
+couple, using a pacing and rhythmic gait--a conservative prance, which
+plainly indicated the simultaneous operation of an orchestra. Then
+bending graciously, as though the persons addressed were of dwarfish
+stature, "'Scuse me," he said, "but kin I please be so p'lite as to
+'quiah you' name?" For a moment he listened attentively, then nodded,
+and, returning with the same aristocratic undulations to an imaginary
+doorway near the freezer, "Misto an' Missuz Orlosko Rinktum!" he
+proclaimed, sonorously.
+
+"WHO?" cried Jane, fascinated. "Genesis, 'nounce that again, right
+away!"
+
+Genesis heartily complied.
+
+"Misto an' Missuz Orlosko Rinktum!" he bawled.
+
+"Was that really their names?" she asked, eagerly.
+
+"Well, I kine o' fergit," Genesis admitted, resuming his work with the
+freezer. "Seem like I rickalect SOMEBODY got name good deal like what I
+say, 'cause some mighty blue-vein names at 'at dinnuh-potty, yessuh! But
+I on'y git to be 'nouncer one time, 'cause Fanny tellin' me nex' fam'ly
+have dinnuh-potty make heap o' fun. Say I done my 'nouncin' GOOD, but
+say what's use holler'n' names jes' fer some the neighbors or they own
+aunts an' uncles to walk in, when ev'ybody awready knows 'em? So Fanny
+pummote me to waituh, an' I roun' right in amongs' big doin's mos' ev'y
+night. Pass ice-cream, lemonade, lemon-ice, cake, samwitches. 'Lemme
+han' you li'l' mo' chicken salad, ma'am'--' 'Low me be so kine as to git
+you f'esh cup coffee, suh'--'S way ole Genesis talkin' ev'y even' 'ese
+days!"
+
+Jane looked at him thoughtfully. "Do you like it better than cuttin'
+grass, Genesis?" she asked.
+
+He paused to consider. "Yes'm--when ban' play all lem TUNES! My
+goo'ness, do soun' gran'!"
+
+"You can't do it to-night, though, Genesis," said Jane. "You haf to be
+quiet on Sunday nights, don't you?"
+
+"Yes'm. 'Ain' got no mo' kaytun till nex' Friday even'."
+
+"Oh, I bet that's the party for Miss Pratt at Mr. Parcher's!" Jane
+cried. "Didn't I guess right?"
+
+"Yes'm. I reckon I'm a-go'n' a see one you' fam'ly 'at night; see him
+dancin'--wait on him at ref'eshmuns."
+
+Jane's expression became even more serious than usual. "Willie? I don't
+know whether he's goin', Genesis."
+
+"Lan' name!" Genesis exclaimed. "He die ef he don' git INvite to 'at
+ball!"
+
+"Oh, he's invited," said Jane. "Only I think maybe he won't go."
+
+"My goo'ness! Why ain' he goin'?"
+
+Jane looked at her friend studiously before replying. "Well, it's a
+secret," she said, finally, "but it's a very inter'sting one, an' I'll
+tell you if you never tell."
+
+"Yes'm, I ain' tellin' nobody."
+
+Jane glanced round, then stepped a little closer and told the secret
+with the solemnity it deserved. "Well, when Miss Pratt first came to
+visit Miss May Parcher, Willie used to keep papa's evening clo'es in
+his window-seat, an' mamma wondered what HAD become of 'em. Then, after
+dinner, he'd slip up there an' put 'em on him, an' go out through the
+kitchen an' call on Miss Pratt. Then mamma found 'em, an' she thought he
+oughtn't to do that, so she didn't tell him or anything, an' she didn't
+even tell papa, but she had the tailor make 'em ever an' ever so much
+bigger, 'cause they were gettin' too tight for papa. An' well, so after
+that, even if Willie could get 'em out o' mamma's clo'es-closet where
+she keeps 'em now, he'd look so funny in 'em he couldn't wear 'em. Well,
+an' then he couldn't go to pay calls on Miss Pratt in the evening since
+then, because mamma says after he started to go there in that suit he
+couldn't go without it, or maybe Miss Pratt or the other ones that's in
+love of her would think it was pretty queer, an' maybe kind of expeck it
+was papa's all the time. Mamma says she thinks Willie must have worried
+a good deal over reasons to say why he'd always go in the daytime after
+that, an' never came in the evening, an' now they're goin' to have this
+party, an' she says he's been gettin' paler and paler every day since
+he heard about it. Mamma says he's pale SOME because Miss Pratt's goin'
+away, but she thinks it's a good deal more because, well, if he would
+wear those evening clo'es just to go CALLIN', how would it be to go to
+that PARTY an' not have any! That's what mamma thinks--an', Genesis, you
+promised you'd never tell as long as you live!"
+
+"Yes'm. _I_ ain' tellin'," Genesis chuckled. "I'm a-go'n' agit me one
+nem waituh suits befo' long, myse'f, so's I kin quit wearin' 'at ole
+Henry Gimlet suit what b'long to Fanny, an' have me a privut suit o'
+my own. They's a secon'-han' sto' ovuh on the avynoo, where they got
+swallertail suits all way f'um sevum dolluhs to nineteem dolluhs an'
+ninety-eight cents. I'm a--"
+
+Jane started, interrupting him. "'SH!" she whispered, laying a finger
+warningly upon her lips.
+
+William had entered the yard at the back gate, and, approaching over the
+lawn, had arrived at the steps of the porch before Jane perceived
+him. She gave him an apprehensive look, but he passed into the house
+absent-mindedly, not even flinching at sight of Clematis--and Mrs.
+Baxter was right, William did look pale.
+
+"I guess he didn't hear us," said Jane, when he had disappeared into the
+interior. "He acks awful funny!" she added, thoughtfully. "First when he
+was in love of Miss Pratt, he'd be mad about somep'm almost every minute
+he was home. Couldn't anybody say ANYthing to him but he'd just behave
+as if it was frightful, an' then if you'd see him out walkin' with Miss
+Pratt, well, he'd look like--like--" Jane paused; her eye fell upon
+Clematis and by a happy inspiration she was able to complete her simile
+with remarkable accuracy. "He'd look like the way Clematis looks at
+people! That's just EXACTLY the way he'd look, Genesis, when he was
+walkin' with Miss Pratt; an' then when he was home he got so quiet he
+couldn't answer questions an' wouldn't hear what anybody said to him
+at table or anywhere, an' papa 'd nearly almost bust. Mamma 'n' papa 'd
+talk an' talk about it, an'"--she lowered her voice--"an' I knew what
+they were talkin' about. Well, an' then he'd hardly ever get mad any
+more; he'd just sit in his room, an' sometimes he'd sit in there without
+any light, or he'd sit out in the yard all by himself all evening,
+maybe; an' th'other evening after I was in bed I heard 'em, an' papa
+said--well, this is what papa told mamma." And again lowering her
+voice, she proffered the quotation from her father in atone somewhat
+awe-struck: "Papa said, by Gosh! if he ever 'a' thought a son of his
+could make such a Word idiot of himself he almost wished we'd both been
+girls!"
+
+Having completed this report in a violent whisper, Jane nodded
+repeatedly, for emphasis, and Genesis shook his head to show that he was
+as deeply impressed as she wished him to be. "I guess," she added, after
+a pause "I guess Willie didn't hear anything you an' I talked about him,
+or clo'es, or anything."
+
+She was mistaken in part. William had caught no reference to himself,
+but he had overheard something and he was now alone in his room,
+thinking about it almost feverishly. "A secon'-han' sto' ovuh on the
+avynoo, where they got swaller-tail suits all way f'um sevum dolluhs to
+nineteem dolluhs an' ninety-eight cents."
+
+... Civilization is responsible for certain longings in the breast
+of man--artificial longings, but sometimes as poignant as hunger and
+thirst. Of these the strongest are those of the maid for the bridal
+veil, of the lad for long trousers, and of the youth for a tailed coat
+of state. To the gratification of this last, only a few of the early
+joys in life are comparable. Indulged youths, too rich, can know, to the
+unctuous full, neither the longing nor the gratification; but one such
+as William, in "moderate circumstances," is privileged to pant for his
+first evening clothes as the hart panteth after the water-brook--and
+sometimes, to pant in vain. Also, this was a crisis in William's
+life: in addition to his yearning for such apparel, he was racked by a
+passionate urgency.
+
+As Jane had so precociously understood, unless he should somehow manage
+to obtain the proper draperies he could not go to the farewell dance
+for Miss Pratt. Other unequipped boys could go in their ordinary "best
+clothes," but William could not; for, alack! he had dressed too well too
+soon!
+
+He was in desperate case.
+
+The sorrow of the approaching great departure was but the heavier
+because it had been so long deferred. To William it had seemed that this
+flower-strewn summer could actually end no more than he could actually
+die, but Time had begun its awful lecture, and even Seventeen was
+listening.
+
+Miss Pratt, that magic girl, was going home.
+
+
+
+
+XXIII
+
+FATHERS FORGET
+
+To the competent twenties, hundreds of miles suggesting no
+impossibilities, such departures may be rending, but not tragic.
+Implacable, the difference to Seventeen! Miss Pratt was going home, and
+Seventeen could not follow; it could only mourn upon the lonely shore,
+tracing little angelic footprints left in the sand.
+
+To Seventeen such a departure is final; it is a vanishing.
+
+And now it seemed possible that William might be deprived even of the
+last romantic consolations: of the "last waltz together," of the last,
+last "listening to music in the moonlight together"; of all those sacred
+lasts of the "last evening together."
+
+He had pleaded strongly for a "dress-suit" as a fitting recognition
+of his seventeenth birthday anniversary, but he had been denied by
+his father with a jocularity more crushing than rigor. Since then--in
+particular since the arrival of Miss Pratt--Mr. Baxter's temper had been
+growing steadily more and more even. That is, as affected by William's
+social activities, it was uniformly bad. Nevertheless, after heavy
+brooding, William decided to make one final appeal before he resorted to
+measures which the necessities of despair had caused him to contemplate.
+
+He wished to give himself every chance for a good effect; therefore, he
+did not act hastily, but went over what he intended to say, rehearsing
+it with a few appropriate gestures, and even taking some pleasure in the
+pathetic dignity of this performance, as revealed by occasional
+glances at the mirror of his dressing-table. In spite of these little
+alleviations, his trouble was great and all too real, for, unhappily,
+the previous rehearsal of an emotional scene does not prove the emotion
+insincere.
+
+Descending, he found his father and mother still sitting upon the front
+porch. Then, standing before them, solemn-eyed, he uttered a preluding
+cough, and began:
+
+"Father," he said in a loud voice, "I have come to--"
+
+"Dear me!" Mrs. Baxter exclaimed, not perceiving that she was
+interrupting an intended oration. "Willie, you DO look pale! Sit down,
+poor child; you oughtn't to walk so much in this heat."
+
+"Father," William repeated. "Fath--"
+
+"I suppose you got her safely home from church," Mr. Baxter said. "She
+might have been carried off by footpads if you three boys hadn't been
+along to take care of her!"
+
+But William persisted heroically. "Father--" he said. "Father, I have
+come to--"
+
+"What on earth's the matter with you?" Mr. Baxter ceased to fan himself;
+Mrs. Baxter stopped rocking, and both stared, for it had dawned upon
+them that something unusual was beginning to take place.
+
+William backed to the start and tried it again. "Father, I have come
+to--" He paused and gulped, evidently expecting to be interrupted,
+but both of his parents remained silent, regarding him with puzzled
+surprise. "Father," he began once more, "I have come--I have come
+to--to place before you something I think it's your duty as my father
+to undertake, and I have thought over this step before laying it before
+you."
+
+"My soul!" said Mr. Baxter, under his breath. "My soul!"
+
+"At my age," William continued, swallowing, and fixing his earnest eyes
+upon the roof of the porch, to avoid the disconcerting stare of his
+father--"at my age there's some things that ought to be done and some
+things that ought not to be done. If you asked me what I thought OUGHT
+to be done, there is only one answer: When anybody as old as I am has
+to go out among other young men his own age that already got one, like
+anyway half of them HAVE, who I go with, and their fathers have already
+taken such a step, because they felt it was the only right thing to
+do, because at my age and the young men I go with's age, it IS the only
+right thing to do, because that is something nobody could deny, at my
+age--" Here William drew a long breath, and, deciding to abandon that
+sentence as irrevocably tangled, began another: "I have thought over
+this step, because there comes a time to every young man when they must
+lay a step before their father before something happens that they would
+be sorry for. I have thought this undertaking over, and I am certain it
+would be your honest duty--"
+
+"My soul!" gasped Mr. Baxter. "I thought I knew you pretty well, but you
+talk like a stranger to ME! What is all this? What you WANT?"
+
+"A dress-suit!" said William.
+
+He had intended to say a great deal more before coming to the point,
+but, although through nervousness he had lost some threads of his
+rehearsed plea, it seemed to him that he was getting along well and
+putting his case with some distinction and power. He was surprised and
+hurt, therefore, to hear his father utter a wordless shout in a tone of
+wondering derision.
+
+"I have more to say--" William began.
+
+But Mr. Baxter cut him off. "A dress-suit!" he cried. "Well, I'm glad
+you were talking about SOMETHING, because I honestly thought it must be
+too much sun!"
+
+At this, the troubled William brought his eyes down from the porch roof
+and forgot his rehearsal. He lifted his hand appealingly. "Father," he
+said, "I GOT to have one!"
+
+"'Got to'!" Mr. Baxter laughed a laugh that chilled the supplicant
+through and through. "At your age I thought I was lucky if I had ANY
+suit that was fit to be seen in. You're too young, Willie. I don't want
+you to get your mind on such stuff, and if I have my way, you won't have
+a dress-suit for four years more, anyhow."
+
+"Father, I GOT to have one. I got to have one right away!" The urgency
+in William's voice was almost tearful. "I don't ask you to have it made,
+or to go to expensive tailors, but there's plenty of good ready-made
+ones that only cost about forty dollars; they're advertised in the
+paper. Father, wouldn't you spend just forty dollars? I'll pay it back
+when I'm in business; I'll work--"
+
+Mr. Baxter waved all this aside. "It's not the money. It's the principle
+that I'm standing for, and I don't intend--"
+
+"Father, WON'T you do it?"
+
+"No, I will not!"
+
+William saw that sentence had been passed and all appeals for a new
+trial denied. He choked, and rushed into the house without more ado.
+
+"Poor boy!" his mother said.
+
+"Poor boy nothing!" fumed Mr. Baxter. "He's about lost his mind over
+that Miss Pratt. Think of his coming out here and starting a regular
+debating society declamation before his mother and father! Why, I never
+heard anything like it in my life! I don't like to hurt his feelings,
+and I'd give him anything I could afford that would do him any good,
+but all he wants it for now is to splurge around in at this party before
+that little yellow-haired girl! I guess he can wear the kind of clothes
+most of the other boys wear--the kind _I_ wore at parties--and never
+thought of wearing anything else. What's the world getting to be
+like? Seventeen years old and throws a fit because he can't have a
+dress-suit!"
+
+Mrs. Baxter looked thoughtful. "But--but suppose he felt he couldn't go
+to the dance unless he wore one, poor boy--"
+
+"All the better," said Mr. Baxter, firmly. "Do him good to keep away and
+get his mind on something else."
+
+"Of course," she suggested, with some timidity, "forty dollars isn't a
+great deal of money, and a ready-made suit, just to begin with--"
+
+Naturally, Mr. Baxter perceived whither she was drifting. "Forty dollars
+isn't a thousand," he interrupted, "but what you want to throw it away
+for? One reason a boy of seventeen oughtn't to have evening clothes
+is the way he behaves with ANY clothes. Forty dollars! Why, only this
+summer he sat down on Jane's open paint-box, twice in one week!"
+
+"Well--Miss Pratt IS going away, and the dance will be her last night.
+I'm afraid it would really hurt him to miss it. I remember once, before
+we were engaged--that evening before papa took me abroad, and you--"
+
+"It's no use, mamma," he said. "We were both in the twenties--why, _I_
+was six years older than Willie, even then. There's no comparison at
+all. I'll let him order a dress-suit on his twenty-first birthday and
+not a minute before. I don't believe in it, and I intend to see that
+he gets all this stuff out of his system. He's got to learn some hard
+sense!"
+
+Mrs. Baxter shook her head doubtfully, but she said no more. Perhaps she
+regretted a little that she had caused Mr. Baxter's evening clothes to
+be so expansively enlarged--for she looked rather regretful. She also
+looked rather incomprehensible, not to say cryptic, during the long
+silence which followed, and Mr. Baxter resumed his rocking, unaware of
+the fixity of gaze which his wife maintained upon him--a thing the most
+loyal will do sometimes.
+
+The incomprehensible look disappeared before long; but the regretful
+one was renewed in the mother's eyes whenever she caught glimpses of her
+son, that day, and at the table, where William's manner was gentle--even
+toward his heartless father.
+
+Underneath that gentleness, the harried self of William was no longer
+debating a desperate resolve, but had fixed upon it, and on the
+following afternoon Jane chanced to be a witness of some resultant
+actions. She came to her mother with an account of them.
+
+"Mamma, what you s'pose Willie wants of those two ole market-baskets
+that were down cellar?"
+
+"Why, Jane?"
+
+"Well, he carried 'em in his room, an' then he saw me lookin'; an' he
+said, 'G'way from here!' an' shut the door. He looks so funny! What's he
+want of those ole baskets, mamma?"
+
+"I don't know. Perhaps he doesn't even know, himself, Jane."
+
+But William did know, definitely. He had set the baskets upon chairs,
+and now, with pale determination, he was proceeding to fill them. When
+his task was completed the two baskets contained:
+
+One "heavy-weight winter suit of clothes."
+
+One "light-weight summer suit of clothes."
+
+One cap.
+
+One straw hat.
+
+Two pairs of white flannel trousers.
+
+Two Madras shirts.
+
+Two flannel shirts.
+
+Two silk shirts.
+
+Seven soft collars.
+
+Three silk neckties.
+
+One crocheted tie.
+
+Eight pairs of socks.
+
+One pair of patent-leather shoes.
+
+One pair of tennis-shoes.
+
+One overcoat.
+
+Some underwear.
+
+One two-foot shelf of books, consisting of several sterling works
+upon mathematics, in a damaged condition; five of Shakespeare's plays,
+expurgated for schools and colleges, and also damaged; a work upon
+political economy, and another upon the science of physics; Webster's
+Collegiate Dictionary; How to Enter a Drawing-Room and Five Hundred
+Other Hints; Witty Sayings from Here and There; Lorna Doone; Quentin
+Durward; The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, a very old copy of Moths,
+and a small Bible.
+
+William spread handkerchiefs upon the two over-bulging cargoes, that
+their nature might not be disclosed to the curious, and, after listening
+a moment at his door, took the baskets, one upon each arm, then went
+quickly down the stairs and out of the house, out of the yard, and into
+the alley--by which route he had modestly chosen to travel.
+
+... After an absence of about two hours he returned empty-handed
+and anxious. "Mother, I want to speak to you," he said, addressing Mrs
+Baxter in a voice which clearly proved the strain of these racking days.
+"I want to speak to you about something important."
+
+"Yes, Willie?"
+
+"Please send Jane away. I can't talk about important things with a child
+in the room."
+
+Jane naturally wished to stay, since he was going to say something
+important. "Mamma, do I HAF to go?"
+
+"Just a few minutes, dear."
+
+Jane walked submissively out of the door, leaving it open behind her.
+Then, having gone about six feet farther, she halted and, preserving a
+breathless silence, consoled herself for her banishment by listening to
+what was said, hearing it all as satisfactorily as if she had remained
+in the room. Quiet, thoughtful children, like Jane, avail themselves of
+these little pleasures oftener than is suspected.
+
+"Mother," said William, with great intensity, "I want to ask you please
+to lend me three dollars and sixty cents."
+
+"What for, Willie?"
+
+"Mother, I just ask you to lend me three dollars and sixty cents."
+
+"But what FOR?"
+
+"Mother, I don't feel I can discuss it any; I simply ask you: Will you
+lend me three dollars and sixty cents?"
+
+Mrs. Baxter laughed gently. "I don't think I could, Willie, but
+certainly I should want to know what for."
+
+"Mother, I am going on eighteen years of age, and when I ask for a
+small sum of money like three dollars and sixty cents I think I might be
+trusted to know how to use it for my own good without having to answer
+questions like a ch--"
+
+"Why, Willie," she exclaimed, "you ought to have plenty of money of your
+own!"
+
+"Of course I ought," he agreed, warmly. "If you'd ask father to give me
+a regular allow--"
+
+"No, no; I mean you ought to have plenty left out of that old junk and
+furniture I let you sell last month. You had over nine dollars!'
+
+"That was five weeks ago," William explained, wearily.
+
+"But you certainly must have some of it left. Why, it was MORE than nine
+dollars, I believe! I think it was nearer ten. Surely you haven't--"
+
+"Ye gods!" cried the goaded William. "A person going on eighteen
+years old ought to be able to spend nine dollars in five weeks without
+everybody's acting like it was a crime! Mother, I ask you the simple
+question: Will you PLEASE lend me three dollars and sixty cents?"
+
+"I don't think I ought to, dear. I'm sure your father wouldn't wish
+me to, unless you'll tell me what you want it for. In fact, I won't
+consider it at all unless you do tell me."
+
+"You won't do it?" he quavered.
+
+She shook her head gently. "You see, dear, I'm afraid the reason you
+don't tell me is because you know that I wouldn't give it to you if I
+knew what you wanted it for."
+
+This perfect diagnosis of the case so disheartened him that after a few
+monosyllabic efforts to continue the conversation with dignity he gave
+it up, and left in such a preoccupation with despondency that he passed
+the surprised Jane in the hall without suspecting what she had been
+doing.
+
+That evening, after dinner, he addressed to his father an impassioned
+appeal for three dollars and sixty cents, laying such stress of pathos
+on his principal argument that if he couldn't have a dress-suit, at
+least he ought to be given three dollars and sixty CENTS (the emphasis
+is William's) that Mr. Baxter was moved in the direction of consent--but
+not far enough. "I'd like to let you have it, Willie," he said, excusing
+himself for refusal, "but your mother felt SHE oughtn't to do it unless
+you'd say what you wanted it for, and I'm sure she wouldn't like me to
+do it. I can't let you have it unless you get her to say she wants me
+to."
+
+Thus advised, the unfortunate made another appeal to his mother the next
+day, and, having brought about no relaxation of the situation, again
+petitioned his father, on the following evening. So it went; the torn
+and driven William turning from parent to parent; and surely, since the
+world began, the special sum of three dollars and sixty cents has never
+been so often mentioned in any one house and in the same space of time
+as it was in the house of the Baxters during Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday,
+and Thursday of that oppressive week.
+
+But on Friday William disappeared after breakfast and did not return to
+lunch.
+
+
+
+
+XXIV
+
+CLOTHES MAKE THE MAN
+
+Mrs. Baxter was troubled. During the afternoon she glanced often from
+the open window of the room where she had gone to sew, but the peaceful
+neighborhood continued to be peaceful, and no sound of the harassed
+footsteps of William echoed from the pavement. However, she saw Genesis
+arrive (in his weekday costume) to do some weeding, and Jane immediately
+skip forth for mingled purposes of observation and conversation.
+
+"What DO they say?" thought Mrs. Baxter, observing that both Jane and
+Genesis were unusually animated. But for once that perplexity was to be
+dispersed. After an exciting half-hour Jane came flying to her mother,
+breathless.
+
+"Mamma," she cried, "I know where Willie is! Genesis told me, 'cause he
+saw him, an' he talked to him while he was doin' it."
+
+"Doing what? Where?"
+
+"Mamma, listen! What you think Willie's doin'? I bet you can't g--"
+
+"Jane!" Mrs Baxter spoke sharply. "Tell me what Genesis said, at once."
+
+"Yes'm. Willie's sittin' in a lumber-yard that Genesis comes by on his
+way from over on the avynoo where all the colored people live--an' he's
+countin' knot-holes in shingles."
+
+"He is WHAT?"
+
+"Yes'm. Genesis knows all about it, because he was thinkin' of doin'
+it himself, only he says it would be too slow. This is the way it is,
+mamma. Listen, mamma, because this is just exackly the way it is. Well,
+this lumber-yard man got into some sort of a fuss because he bought
+millions an' millions of shingles, mamma, that had too many knots in,
+an' the man don't want to pay for 'em, or else the store where he bought
+'em won't take 'em back, an' they got to prove how many shingles are
+bad shingles, or somep'm, an' anyway, mamma, that's what Willie's doin'.
+Every time he comes to a bad shingle, mamma, he puts it somewheres else,
+or somep'm like that, mamma, an' every time he's put a thousand bad
+shingles in this other place they give him six cents. He gets the six
+cents to keep, mamma--an' that's what he's been doin' all day!"
+
+"Good gracious!"
+
+"Oh, but that's nothing, mamma--just you wait till you hear the rest.
+THAT part of it isn't anything a TALL, mamma! You wouldn't hardly notice
+that part of it if you knew the other part of it, mamma. Why, that
+isn't ANYTHING!" Jane made demonstrations of scorn for the insignificant
+information already imparted.
+
+"Jane!"
+
+"Yes'm?"
+
+"I want to know everything Genesis told you," said her mother, "and I
+want you to tell it as quickly as you can."
+
+"Well, I AM tellin' it, mamma!" Jane protested. "I'm just BEGINNING to
+tell it. I can't tell it unless there's a beginning, can I? How could
+there be ANYTHING unless you had to begin it, mamma?"
+
+"Try your best to go on, Jane!"
+
+"Yes'm. Well, Genesis says--Mamma!" Jane interrupted herself with a
+little outcry. "Oh! I bet THAT'S what he had those two market-baskets
+for! Yes, sir! That's just what he did! An' then he needed the rest
+o' the money an' you an' papa wouldn't give him any, an' so he began
+countin' shingles to-day 'cause to-night's the night of the party an' he
+just HASS to have it!"
+
+Mrs. Baxter, who had risen to her feet, recalled the episode of the
+baskets and sank into a chair. "How did Genesis know Willie wanted forty
+dollars, and if Willie's pawned something how did Genesis know THAT? Did
+Willie tell Gen--"
+
+"Oh no, mamma, Willie didn't want forty dollars--only fourteen!"
+
+"But he couldn't get even the cheapest readymade dress-suit for fourteen
+dollars."
+
+"Mamma, you're gettin' it all mixed up!" Jane cried. "Listen, mamma!
+Genesis knows all about a second-hand store over on the avynoo; an' it
+keeps 'most everything, an' Genesis says it's the nicest store! It keeps
+waiter suits all the way up to nineteen dollars and ninety-nine cents.
+Well, an' Genesis wants to get one of those suits, so he goes in there
+all the time, an' talks to the man an' bargains an' bargains with him,
+'cause Genesis says this man is the bargainest man in the wide worl',
+mamma! That's what Genesis says. Well, an' so this man's name is One-eye
+Beljus, mamma. That's his name, an' Genesis says so. Well, an' so this
+man that Genesis told me about, that keeps the store--I mean One-eye
+Beljus, mamma--well, One-eye Beljus had Willie's name written down in a
+book, an' he knew Genesis worked for fam'lies that have boys like Willie
+in 'em, an' this morning One-eye Beljus showed Genesis Willie's name
+written down in this book, an' One-eye Beljus asked Genesis if he knew
+anybody by that name an' all about him. Well, an' so at first Genesis
+pretended he was tryin' to remember, because he wanted to find out what
+Willie went there for. Genesis didn't tell any stories, mamma; he
+just pretended he couldn't remember, an' so, well, One-eye Beljus kept
+talkin' an' pretty soon Genesis found out all about it. One-eye Beljus
+said Willie came in there an' tried on the coat of one of those waiter
+suits--"
+
+"Oh no!" gasped Mrs. Baxter.
+
+"Yes'm, an' One-eye Beljus said it was the only one that would fit
+Willie, an' One-eye Beljus told Willie that suit was worth fourteen
+dollars, an' Willie said he didn't have any money, but he'd like to
+trade something else for it. Well, an' so One-eye Beljus said this was
+an awful fine suit an' the only one he had that had b'longed to a white
+gentleman. Well, an' so they bargained, an' bargained, an' bargained,
+an' BARGAINED! An' then, well, an' so at last Willie said he'd go an'
+get everything that b'longed to him, an' One-eye Beljus could pick out
+enough to make fourteen dollars' worth, an' then Willie could have
+the suit. Well, an' so Willie came home an' put everything he had that
+b'longed to him into those two baskets, mamma--that's just what he
+did, 'cause Genesis says he told One-eye Beljus it was everything that
+b'longed to him, an' that would take two baskets, mamma. Well, then,
+an' so he told One-eye Beljus to pick out fourteen dollars' worth, an'
+One-eye Beljus ast Willie if he didn't have a watch. Well, Willie took
+out his watch an' One-eye Beljus said it was an awful bad watch, but he
+would put it in for a dollar; an' he said, 'I'll put your necktie pin
+in for forty cents more,' so Willie took it out of his necktie an' then
+One-eye Beljus said it would take all the things in the baskets to make
+I forget how much, mamma, an' the watch would be a dollar more, an' the
+pin forty cents, an' that would leave just three dollars an' sixty cents
+more for Willie to pay before he could get the suit."
+
+Mrs. Baxter's face had become suffused with high color, but she wished
+to know all that Genesis had said, and, mastering her feelings with an
+effort, she told Jane to proceed--a command obeyed after Jane had taken
+several long breaths.
+
+"Well, an' so the worst part of it is, Genesis says, it's because that
+suit is haunted."
+
+"What!"
+
+"Yes'm," said Jane, solemnly; "Genesis says it's haunted. Genesis says
+everybody over on the avynoo knows all about that suit, an' he says
+that's why One-eye Beljus never could sell it before. Genesis says
+One-eye Beljus tried to sell it to a colored man for three dollars,
+but the man said he wouldn't put in on for three hunderd dollars, an'
+Genesis says HE wouldn't, either, because it belonged to a Dago waiter
+that--that--" Jane's voice sank to a whisper of unctuous horror. She was
+having a wonderful time! "Mamma, this Dago waiter, he lived over on the
+avynoo, an' he took a case-knife he'd sharpened--AN' HE CUT A LADY'S
+HEAD OFF WITH IT!"
+
+Mrs. Baxter screamed faintly.
+
+"An' he got hung, mamma! If you don't believe it, you can ask One-eye
+Beljus--I guess HE knows! An' you can ask--"
+
+"Hush!"
+
+"An' he sold this suit to One-eye Beljus when he was in jail, mamma. He
+sold it to him before he got hung, mamma."
+
+"Hush, Jane!"
+
+But Jane couldn't hush now. "An' he had that suit on when he cut the
+lady's head off, mamma, an' that's why it's haunted. They cleaned it all
+up excep' a few little spots of bl--"
+
+"JANE!" shouted her mother. "You must not talk about such things, and
+Genesis mustn't tell, you stories of that sort!"
+
+"Well, how could he help it, if he told me about Willie?" Jane urged,
+reasonably.
+
+"Never mind! Did that crazy ch--Did Willie LEAVE the baskets in that
+dreadful place?"
+
+"Yes'm--an' his watch an' pin," Jane informed her, impressively. "An'
+One-eye Beljus wanted to know if Genesis knew Willie, because One-eye
+Beljus wanted to know if Genesis thought Willie could get the three
+dollars an; sixty cents, an' One-eye Beljus wanted to know if Genesis
+thought he could get anything more out of him besides that. He told
+Genesis he hadn't told Willie he COULD have the suit, after all; he just
+told him he THOUGHT he could, but he wouldn't say for certain till he
+brought him the three dollars an' sixty cents. So Willie left all his
+things there, an' his watch an--"
+
+"That will do!" Mrs. Baxter's voice was sharper than it had ever been in
+Jane's recollection. "I don't need to hear any more--and I don't WANT to
+hear any more!"
+
+Jane was justly aggrieved. "But, mamma, it isn't MY fault!"
+
+Mrs. Baxter's lips parted to speak, but she checked herself. "Fault?"
+she said, gravely. "I wonder whose fault it really is!"
+
+And with that she went hurriedly into William's room and made a brief
+inspection of his clothes-closet and dressing-table. Then, as Jane
+watched her in awed silence, she strode to the window, and called,
+loudly:
+
+"Genesis!"
+
+"Yes'm?" came the voice from below.
+
+"Go to that lumber-yard where Mr. William is at work and bring him
+here to me at once. If he declines to come, tell him--" Her voice broke
+oddly; she choked, but Jane could not decide with what emotion. "Tell
+him--tell him I ordered you to use force if necessary! Hurry!"
+
+"YES'M!"
+
+Jane ran to the window in time to see Genesis departing seriously
+through the back gate.
+
+"Mamma--"
+
+"Don't talk to me now, Jane," Mrs. Baxter said, crisply. "I want you to
+go down in the yard, and when Willie comes tell him I'm waiting for him
+here in his own room. And don't come with him, Jane. Run!"
+
+"Yes, mamma." Jane was pleased with this appointment; she anxiously
+desired to be the first to see how Willie "looked."
+
+... He looked flurried and flustered and breathless, and there were
+blisters upon the reddened palms of his hands. "What on earth's the
+matter, mother?" he asked, as he stood panting before her. "Genesis said
+something was wrong, and he said you told him to hit me if I wouldn't
+come."
+
+"Oh NO!" she cried. "I only meant I thought perhaps you wouldn't obey
+any ordinary message--"
+
+"Well, well, it doesn't matter, but please hurry and say what you want
+to, because I got to get back and--"
+
+"No," Mrs. Baxter said, quietly, "you're not going back to count any
+more shingles, Willie. How much have you earned?"
+
+He swallowed, but spoke bravely. "Thirty-six cents. But I've been
+getting lots faster the last two hours and there's a good deal of time
+before six o'clock. Mother--"
+
+"No," she said. "You're going over to that horrible place where you've
+left your clothes and your watch and all those other things in the two
+baskets, and you're going to bring them home at once."
+
+"Mother!" he cried, aghast. "Who told you?"
+
+"It doesn't matter. You don't want your father to find out, do you? Then
+get those things back here as quickly as you can. They'll have to be
+fumigated after being in that den."
+
+"They've never been out of the baskets," he protested, hotly, "except
+just to be looked at. They're MY things, mother, and I had a right to
+do what I needed to with 'em, didn't I?" His utterance became difficult.
+"You and father just CAN'T understand--and you won't do anything to help
+me--"
+
+"Willie, you can go to the party," she said, gently. "You didn't need
+those frightful clothes at all."
+
+"I do!" he cried. "I GOT to have 'em! I CAN'T go in my day clo'es!
+There's a reason you wouldn't understand why I can't. I just CAN'T!"
+
+"Yes," she said, "you can go to the party."
+
+"I can't, either! Not unless you give me three dollars and twenty-four
+cents, or unless I can get back to the lumber-yard and earn the rest
+before--"
+
+"No!" And the warm color that had rushed over Mrs. Baxter during Jane's
+sensational recital returned with a vengeance. Her eyes flashed. "If
+you'd rather I sent a policeman for those baskets, I'll send one. I
+should prefer to do it--much! And to have that rascal arrested. If you
+don't want me to send a policeman you can go for them yourself, but
+you must start within ten minutes, because if you don't I'll telephone
+headquarters. Ten minutes, Willie, and I mean it!"
+
+He cried out, protesting. She would make him a thing of scorn forever
+and soil his honor, if she sent a policeman. Mr. Beljus was a fair
+and honest tradesman, he explained, passionately, and had not made the
+approaches in this matter. Also, the garments in question, though not
+entirely new, nor of the highest mode, were of good material and in
+splendid condition. Unmistakably they were evening clothes, and such a
+bargain at fourteen dollars that William would guarantee to sell them
+for twenty after he had worn them this one evening. Mr. Beljus himself
+had said that he would not even think of letting them go at fourteen
+to anybody else, and as for the two poor baskets of worn and useless
+articles offered in exchange, and a bent scarfpin and a worn-out old
+silver watch that had belonged to great-uncle Ben--why, the ten dollars
+and forty cents allowed upon them was beyond all ordinary liberality;
+it was almost charity. There was only one place in town where evening
+clothes were rented, and the suspicious persons in charge had insisted
+that William obtain from his father a guarantee to insure the return of
+the garments in perfect condition. So that was hopeless. And wasn't it
+better, also, to wear clothes which had known only one previous occupant
+(as was the case with Mr. Beljus's offering) than to hire what chance
+hundreds had hired? Finally, there was only one thing to be considered
+and this was the fact that William HAD to have those clothes!
+
+"Six minutes," said Mrs. Baxter, glancing implacably at her watch. "When
+it's ten I'll telephone."
+
+And the end of it was, of course, victory for the woman--victory both
+moral and physical. Three-quarters of an hour later she was unburdening
+the contents of the two baskets and putting the things back in place,
+illuminating these actions with an expression of strong distaste--in
+spite of broken assurances that Mr. Beljus had not more than touched any
+of the articles offered to him for valuation.
+
+... At dinner, which was unusually early that evening, Mrs. Baxter did
+not often glance toward her son; she kept her eyes from that white face
+and spent most of her time in urging upon Mr. Baxter that he should
+be prompt in dressing for a card-club meeting which he and she were
+to attend that evening. These admonitions of hers were continued so
+pressingly that Mr. Baxter, after protesting that there was no use in
+being a whole hour too early, groaningly went to dress without even
+reading his paper.
+
+William had retired to his own room, where he lay upon his bed in the
+darkness. He heard the evening noises of the house faintly through the
+closed door: voices and the clatter of metal and china from the far-away
+kitchen, Jane's laugh in the hall, the opening and closing of the doors.
+Then his father seemed to be in distress about something. William heard
+him complaining to Mrs. Baxter, and though the words were indistinct,
+the tone was vigorously plaintive. Mrs. Baxter laughed and appeared
+to make light of his troubles, whatever they were--and presently
+their footsteps were audible from the stairway; the front door closed
+emphatically, and they were gone.
+
+Everything was quiet now. The open window showed as a greenish oblong
+set in black, and William knew that in a little while there would come
+through the stillness of that window the distant sound of violins. That
+was a moment he dreaded with a dread that ached. And as he lay on his
+dreary bed he thought of brightly lighted rooms where other boys were
+dressing eagerly faces and hair shining, hearts beating high--boys who
+would possess this last evening and the "last waltz together," the last
+smile and the last sigh.
+
+It did not once enter his mind that he could go to the dance in his
+"best suit," or that possibly the other young people at the party would
+be too busy with their own affairs to notice particularly what he wore.
+It was the unquestionable and granite fact, to his mind, that the whole
+derisive World would know the truth about his earlier appearances in his
+father's clothes. And that was a form of ruin not to be faced. In the
+protective darkness and seclusion of William's bedroom, it is possible
+that smarting eyes relieved themselves by blinking rather energetically;
+it is even possible that there was a minute damp spot upon the pillow.
+Seventeen cannot always manage the little boy yet alive under all the
+coverings.
+
+Now arrived that moment he had most painfully anticipated, and
+dance-music drifted on the night;--but there came a tapping upon his
+door and a soft voice spoke.
+
+"Will-ee?"
+
+With a sharp exclamation William swung his legs over the edge of the
+bed and sat up. Of all things he desired not, he desired no conversation
+with, or on the part of, Jane. But he had forgotten to lock his
+door--the handle turned, and a dim little figure marched in.
+
+"Willie, Adelia's goin' to put me to bed."
+
+"You g'way from here," he said, huskily. "I haven't got time to talk to
+you. I'm busy."
+
+"Well, you can wait a minute, can't you?" she asked, reasonably. "I haf
+to tell you a joke on mamma."
+
+"I don't want to hear any jokes!"
+
+"Well, I HAF to tell you this one 'cause she told me to! Oh!" Jane
+clapped her hand over her mouth and jumped up and down, offering a
+fantastic silhouette against the light of the Open door. "Oh, oh, OH!"
+
+"What's matter?"
+
+"She said I mustn't, MUSTN'T tell that she told me to tell! My goodness!
+I forgot that! Mamma took me off alone right after dinner, an' she told
+me to tell you this joke on her a little after she an' papa had left
+the house, but she said, 'Above all THINGS,' she said, 'DON'T let Willie
+know _I_ said to tell him.' That's just what she said, an' here that's
+the very first thing I had to go an' do!"
+
+"Well, what of it?"
+
+Jane quieted down. The pangs of her remorse were lost in her love of
+sensationalism, and her voice sank to the thrilling whisper which it was
+one of her greatest pleasures to use. "Did you hear what a fuss papa was
+makin' when he was dressin' for the card-party?"
+
+"_I_ don't care if--"
+
+"He had to go in his reg'lar clo'es!" whispered Jane, triumphantly.
+"An' this is the joke on mamma: you know that tailor that let papa's
+dress-suit 'way, 'way out; well, Mamma thinks that tailor must think
+she's crazy, or somep'm 'cause she took papa's dress-suit to him last
+Monday to get it pressed for this card-party, an she guesses he must of
+understood her to tell him to do lots besides just pressin' it. Anyway,
+he went an' altered it, an' he took it 'way, 'way IN again; an' this
+afternoon when it came back it was even tighter 'n what it was in the
+first place, an' papa couldn't BEGIN to get into it! Well, an' so it's
+all pressed an' ev'ything, an' she stopped on the way out, an' whispered
+to me that she'd got so upset over the joke on her that she couldn't
+remember where she put it when she took it out o' papa's room after he
+gave up tryin' to get inside of it. An' that," cried Jane--"that's
+the funniest thing of all! Why, it's layin' right on her bed this very
+minute!"
+
+In one bound William leaped through the open door. Two seconds sufficed
+for his passage through the hall to his mother's bedroom--and there,
+neatly spread upon the lace coverlet and brighter than coronation robes,
+fairer than Joseph's holy coat, It lay!
+
+
+
+
+XXV
+
+YOUTH AND MR. PARCHER
+
+As a hurried worldling, in almost perfectly fitting evening clothes,
+passed out of his father's gateway and hurried toward the place whence
+faintly came the sound of dance-music, a child's voice called sweetly
+from an unidentified window of the darkened house behind him:
+
+"Well, ANYWAY, you try and have a good time, Willie!"
+
+William made no reply; he paused not in his stride. Jane's farewell
+injunction, though obviously not ill-intended, seemed in poor taste, and
+a reply might have encouraged her to believe that, in some measure at
+least, he condescended to discuss his inner life with her. He departed
+rapidly, but with hauteur. The moon was up, but shade-trees were thick
+along the sidewalk, and the hauteur was invisible to any human eye;
+nevertheless, William considered it necessary.
+
+Jane's friendly but ill-chosen "ANYWAY" had touched doubts already
+annoying him. He was certain to be late to the party--so late, indeed,
+that it might prove difficult to obtain a proper number of dances with
+the sacred girl in whose honor the celebration was being held. Too
+many were steeped in a sense of her sacredness, well he wot! and he was
+unable to find room in his apprehensive mind for any doubt that these
+others would be accursedly diligent.
+
+But as he hastened onward his spirits rose, and he did reply to Jane,
+after all, though he had placed a hundred yards between them.
+
+"Yes, and you can bet your bottom dollar I will, too!" he muttered,
+between his determined teeth.
+
+The very utterance of the words increased the firmness of his decision,
+and at the same time cheered him. His apprehensions fell away, and a
+glamorous excitement took their place, as he turned a corner and the
+music burst more loudly upon his tingling ear. For there, not half-way
+to the next street, the fairy scene lay spread before him.
+
+Spellbound groups of uninvited persons, most of them colored, rested
+their forearms upon the upper rail of the Parchers' picket fence,
+offering to William's view a silhouette like that of a crowd at a fire.
+Beyond the fence, bright forms went skimming, shimmering, wavering over
+a white platform, while high overhead the young moon sprayed a thinner
+light down through the maple leaves, to where processions of rosy globes
+hung floating in the blue night. The mild breeze trembled to the silver
+patterings of a harp, to the sweet, barbaric chirping of plucked strings
+of violin and 'cello--and swooned among the maple leaves to the rhythmic
+crooning of a flute. And, all the while, from the platform came the
+sounds of little cries in girlish voices, and the cadenced shuffling
+of young feet, where the witching dancemusic had its way, as ever and
+forever, with big and little slippers.
+
+The heart of William had behaved tumultuously the summer long, whenever
+his eyes beheld those pickets of the Parchers' fence, but now it outdid
+all its previous riotings. He was forced to open his mouth and gasp
+for breath, so deep was his draught of that young wine, romance.
+Yonder--somewhere in the breath-taking radiance--danced his Queen with
+all her Court about her. Queen and Court, thought William, and nothing
+less exorbitant could have expressed his feeling. For seventeen needs
+only some paper lanterns, a fiddle, and a pretty girl--and Versailles is
+all there!
+
+The moment was so rich that William crossed the street with a slower
+step. His mood changed: an exaltation had come upon him, though he was
+never for an instant unaware of the tragedy beneath all this worldly
+show and glamor. It was the last night of the divine visit; to-morrow
+the town would lie desolate, a hollow shell in the dust, without her.
+Miss Pratt would be gone--gone utterly--gone away on the TRAIN! But
+to-night was just beginning, and to-night he would dance with her; he
+would dance and dance with her--he would dance and dance like mad! He
+and she, poetic and fated pair, would dance on and on! They would be
+intoxicated by the lights--the lights, the flowers, and the music. Nay,
+the flowers might droop, the lights might go out, the music cease and
+dawn come--she and he would dance recklessly on--on--on!
+
+A sense of picturesqueness--his own picturesqueness--made him walk
+rather theatrically as he passed through the groups of humble onlookers
+outside the picket fence. Many of these turned to stare at the belated
+guest, and William was unconscious of neither their low estate nor his
+own quality as a patrician man-about-town in almost perfectly fitting
+evening dress. A faint, cold smile was allowed to appear upon his lips,
+and a fragment from a story he had read came momentarily to his mind....
+"Through the gaping crowds the young Augustan noble was borne down
+from the Palatine, scornful in his jeweled litter...."
+
+An admiring murmur reached William's ear.
+
+"OH, oh, honey! Look attem long-tail suit! 'At's a rich boy, honey!"
+
+"Yessum, SO! Bet he got his pockets pack' full o' twenty-dolluh gol'
+pieces right iss minute!"
+
+"You right, honey!"
+
+William allowed the coldness of his faint smile to increase to become
+scornful. These poor sidewalk creatures little knew what seethed inside
+the alabaster of the young Augustan noble! What was it to THEM that this
+was Miss Pratt's last night and that he intended to dance and dance with
+her, on and on?
+
+Almost sternly he left these squalid lives behind him and passed to the
+festal gateway.
+
+Upon one of the posts of that gateway there rested the elbow of a
+contemplative man, middleaged or a little worse. Of all persons having
+pleasure or business within the bright inclosure, he was, that evening,
+the least important; being merely the background parent who paid the
+bills. However, even this unconsidered elder shared a thought in common
+with the Augustan now approaching: Mr. Parcher had just been thinking
+that there was true romance in the scene before him.
+
+But what Mr. Parcher contemplated as romance arose from the fact that
+these young people were dancing on a spot where their great-grandfathers
+had scalped Indians. Music was made for them by descendants, it might
+well be, of Romulus, of Messalina, of Benvenuto Cellini, and, around
+behind the house, waiting to serve the dancers with light food
+and drink, lounged and gossiped grandchildren of the Congo, only
+a generation or so removed from dances for which a chance stranger
+furnished both the occasion and the refreshments. Such, in brief, was
+Mr. Parcher's peculiar view of what constituted the romantic element.
+
+And upon another subject preoccupying both Mr. Parcher and William,
+their two views, though again founded upon one thought, had no real
+congeniality. The preoccupying subject was the imminence of Miss Pratt's
+departure;--neither Mr. Parcher nor William forgot it for an instant. No
+matter what else played upon the surface of their attention, each kept
+saying to himself, underneath: "This is the last night--the last night!
+Miss Pratt is going away--going away to-morrow!"
+
+Mr. Parcher's expression was peaceful. It was more peaceful than it had
+been for a long time. In fact, he wore the look of a man who had been
+through the mill but now contemplated a restful and health-restoring
+vacation. For there are people in this world who have no respect for the
+memory of Ponce de Leon, and Mr. Parcher had come to be of their number.
+The elimination of William from his evenings had lightened the burden;
+nevertheless, Mr. Parcher would have stated freely and openly to any
+responsible party that a yearning for the renewal of his youth had not
+been intensified by his daughter's having as a visitor, all summer long,
+a howling belle of eighteen who talked baby-talk even at breakfast and
+spread her suitors all over the small house--and its one veranda--from
+eight in the morning until hours of the night long after their mothers
+(in Mr. Parcher's opinion) should have sent their fathers to march them
+home. Upon Mr. Parcher's optimism the effect of so much unavoidable
+observation of young love had been fatal; he declared repeatedly that
+his faith in the human race was about gone. Furthermore, his physical
+constitution had proved pathetically vulnerable to nightly quartets,
+quintets, and even octets, on the porch below his bedchamber window, so
+that he was wont to tell his wife that never, never could he expect to
+be again the man he had been in the spring before Miss Pratt came to
+visit May. And, referring to conversations which he almost continuously
+overheard, perforce, Mr. Parcher said that if this was the way HE talked
+at that age, he would far prefer to drown in an ordinary fountain, and
+be dead and done with it, than to bathe in Ponce de Leon's.
+
+Altogether, the summer had been a severe one; he doubted that he could
+have survived much more of it. And now that it was virtually over,
+at last, he was so resigned to the departure of his daughter's lovely
+little friend that he felt no regret for the splurge with which her
+visit was closing. Nay, to speed the parting guest--such was his lavish
+mood--twice and thrice over would he have paid for the lights, the
+flowers, the music, the sandwiches, the coffee, the chicken salad, the
+cake, the lemonade-punch, and the ice-cream.
+
+Thus did the one thought divide itself between William and Mr. Parcher,
+keeping itself deep and pure under all their other thoughts. "Miss Pratt
+is going away!" thought William and Mr. Parcher. "Miss PRATT is going
+away--to-morrow!"
+
+The unuttered words advanced tragically toward the gate in the head of
+William at the same time that they moved contentedly away in the head
+of Mr. Parcher; for Mr. Parcher caught sight of his wife just then, and
+went to join her as she sank wearily upon the front steps.
+
+"Taking a rest for a minute?" he inquired. "By George! we're both
+entitled to a good LONG rest, after to-night! If we could afford it,
+we'd go away to a quiet little sanitarium in the hills, somewhere,
+and--" He ceased to speak and there was the renewal of an old bitterness
+in his expression as his staring eyes followed the movements of a
+stately young form entering the gateway. "Look at it!" said Mr. Parcher
+in a whisper. "Just look at it!"
+
+"Look at what?" asked his wife.
+
+"That Baxter boy!" said Mr. Parcher, as William passed on toward the
+dancers. "What's he think he's imitating--Henry Irving? Look at his
+walk!"
+
+"He walks that way a good deal, lately, I've noticed," said Mrs. Parcher
+in a tired voice. "So do Joe Bullitt and--"
+
+"He didn't even come to say good evening to you," Mr. Parcher
+interrupted. "Talk about MANNERS, nowadays! These young--"
+
+"He didn't see us."
+
+"Well, we're used to that," said Mr. Parcher. "None of 'em see us.
+They've worn holes in all the cane-seated chairs, they've scuffed up the
+whole house, and I haven't been able to sit down anywhere down-stairs
+for three months without sitting on some dam boy; but they don't even
+know we're alive! Well, thank the Lord, it's over--after to-night!" His
+voice became reflective. "That Baxter boy was the worst, until he took
+to coming in the daytime when I was down-town. I COULDN'T have stood it
+if he'd kept on coming in the evening. If I'd had to listen to any more
+of his talking or singing, either the embalmer or the lunatic-asylum
+would have had me, sure! I see he's got hold of his daddy's dress-suit
+again for to-night."
+
+"Is it Mr. Baxter's dress-suit?" Mrs. Parcher inquired. "How do you
+know?"
+
+Mr. Parcher smiled. "How I happen to know is a secret," he said. "I
+forgot about that. His little sister, Jane, told me that Mrs. Baxter had
+hidden it, or something, so that Willie couldn't wear it, but I guess
+Jane wouldn't mind my telling YOU that she told me especially as they're
+letting him use it again to-night. I suppose he feels grander 'n the
+King o' Siam!"
+
+"No," Mrs. Parcher returned, thoughtfully. "I don't think he does, just
+now." Her gaze was fixed upon the dancing-platform, which most of
+the dancers were abandoning as the music fell away to an interval
+of silence. In the center of the platform there remained one group,
+consisting of Miss Pratt and five orators, and of the orators the most
+impassioned and gesticulative was William.
+
+"They all seem to want to dance with her all the time," said Mrs.
+Parcher. "I heard her telling one of the boys, half an hour ago, that
+all she could give him was either the twenty-eighth regular dance or the
+sixteenth 'extra.'"
+
+"The what?" Mr. Parcher demanded, whirling to face her. "Do they think
+this party's going to keep running till day after to-morrow?" And then,
+as his eyes returned to the group on the platform, "That boy seems to
+have quite a touch of emotional insanity," he remarked, referring to
+William. "What IS the matter with him?"
+
+"Oh, nothing," his wife returned. "Only trying to arrange a dance with
+her. He seems to be in difficulties."
+
+
+
+
+XXVI
+
+MISS BOKE
+
+Nothing could have been more evident than William's difficulties. They
+continued to exist, with equal obviousness, when the group broke up in
+some confusion, after a few minutes of animated discussion; Mr. Wallace
+Banks, that busy and executive youth, bearing Miss Pratt triumphantly
+off to the lemonade-punch-bowl, while William pursued Johnnie Watson
+and Joe Bullitt. He sought to detain them near the edge of the platform,
+though they appeared far from anxious to linger in his company; and he
+was able to arrest their attention only by clutching an arm of each. In
+fact, the good feeling which had latterly prevailed among these three
+appeared to be in danger of disintegrating. The occasion was too
+vital; and the watchword for "Miss Pratt's last night" was
+Devil-Take-the-Hindmost!
+
+"Now you look here, Johnnie," William said, vehemently, "and you listen,
+too, Joe! You both got seven dances apiece with her, anyway, all on
+account of my not getting here early enough, and you got to--"
+
+"It wasn't because of any such reason," young Mr. Watson protested. "I
+asked her for mine two days ago."
+
+"Well, THAT wasn't fair, was it?" William cried. "Just because I never
+thought of sneaking in ahead like that, you go and--"
+
+"Well, you ought to thought of it," Johnnie retorted, jerking his arm
+free of William's grasp. "I can't stand here GABBIN' all night!" And he
+hurried away.
+
+"Joe," William began, fastening more securely upon Mr. Bullitt--"Joe,
+I've done a good many favors for you, and--"
+
+"I've got to see a man," Mr. Bullitt interrupted. "Lemme go, Silly Bill.
+There's some body I got to see right away before the next dance begins.
+I GOT to! Honest I have!"
+
+William seized him passionately by the lapels of his coat. "Listen, Joe.
+For goodness' sake can't you listen a MINUTE? You GOT to give me--"
+
+"Honest, Bill," his friend expostulated, backing away as forcefully as
+possible, "I got to find a fellow that's here to-night and ask him about
+something important before--"
+
+"Ye gods! Can't you wait a MINUTE?" William cried, keeping his grip upon
+Joe's lapels. "You GOT to give me anyway TWO out of all your dances with
+her! You heard her tell me, yourself, that she'd be willing if you or
+Johnnie or--"
+
+"Well, I only got five or six with her, and a couple extras. Johnnie's
+got seven. Whyn't you go after Johnnie? I bet he'd help you out, all
+right, if you kept after him. What you want to pester ME for, Bill?"
+
+The brutal selfishness of this speech, as well as its cold-blooded
+insincerity, produced in William the impulse to smite. Fortunately, his
+only hope lay in persuasion, and after a momentary struggle with his own
+features he was able to conceal what he desired to do to Joe's.
+
+He swallowed, and, increasing the affectionate desperation of his clutch
+upon Mr. Bullitt's lapels, "Joe," he began, huskily--"Joe, if _I_'d got
+six reg'lar and two extras with Miss Pratt her last night here, and you
+got here late, and it wasn't your fault--I couldn't help being late,
+could I? It wasn't my fault I was late, I guess, was it? Well, if I
+was in YOUR place I wouldn't act the way you and Johnnie do--not in a
+thousand years I wouldn't! I'd say, 'You want a couple o' my dances with
+Miss Pratt, ole man? Why, CERTAINLY--'"
+
+"Yes, you would!" was the cynical comment of Mr. Bullitt, whose averted
+face and reluctant shoulders indicated a strong desire to conclude the
+interview. "To-night, especially!" he added.
+
+"Look here, Joe," said William, desperately, "don't you realize that
+this is the very last night Miss Pratt's going to be in this town?"
+
+"You bet I do!" These words, though vehement, were inaudible; being
+formed in the mind of Mr. Bullitt, but, for diplomatic reasons, not
+projected upon the air by his vocal organs.
+
+William continued: "Joe, you and I have been friends ever since you and
+I were boys." He spoke with emotion, but Joe had no appearance of being
+favorably impressed. "And when I look back," said William, "I expect
+I've done more favors for you than I ever have for any oth--"
+
+But Mr. Bullitt briskly interrupted this appealing reminiscence.
+"Listen here, Silly Bill," he said, becoming all at once friendly and
+encouraging--"Bill, there's other girls here you can get dances with.
+There's one or two of 'em sittin' around in the yard. You can have a
+bully time, even if you did come late." And, with the air of discharging
+happily all the obligations of which William had reminded him, he added,
+"I'll tell you THAT much, Bill!"
+
+"Joe, you got to give me anyway ONE da--"
+
+"Look!" said Mr. Bullitt, eagerly. "Look sittin' yonder, over under
+that tree all by herself! That's a visiting girl named Miss Boke; she's
+visiting some old uncle or something she's got livin' here, and I bet
+you could--"
+
+"Joe, you GOT to--"
+
+"I bet that Miss Boke's a good dancer, Bill," Joe continued, warmly.
+"May Parcher says so. She was tryin' to get me to dance with her myself,
+but I couldn't, or I would of. Honest, Bill, I would of! Bill, if I was
+you I'd sail right in there before anybody else got a start, and I'd--"
+
+"Ole man," said William, gently, "you remember the time Miss Pratt and I
+had an engagement to go walkin', and you wouldn't of seen her for a week
+on account of your aunt dyin' in Kansas City, if I hadn't let you go
+along with us? Ole man, if you--"
+
+But the music sounded for the next dance, and Joe felt that it was
+indeed time to end this uncomfortable conversation. "I got to go, Bill,"
+he said. "I GOT to!"
+
+"Wait just one minute," William implored. "I want to say just this:
+if--"
+
+"Here!" exclaimed Mr. Bullitt. "I got to GO!"
+
+"I know it. That's why--"
+
+Heedless of remonstrance, Joe wrenched himself free, for it would have
+taken a powerful and ruthless man to detain him longer. "What you take
+me for?" he demanded, indignantly. "I got this with Miss PRATT!"
+
+And evading a hand which still sought to clutch him, he departed hotly.
+
+... Mr. Parcher's voice expressed wonder, a little later, as he
+recommended his wife to turn her gaze in the direction of "that Baxter
+boy" again. "Just look at him!" said Mr. Parcher. "His face has got more
+genuine idiocy in it than I've seen around here yet, and God knows I've
+been seeing some miracles in that line this summer!"
+
+"He's looking at Lola Pratt," said Mrs. Parcher.
+
+"Don't you suppose I can see that?" Mr. Parcher returned, with some
+irritation. "That's what's the trouble with him. Why don't he QUIT
+looking at her?"
+
+"I think probably he feels badly because she's dancing with one of the
+other boys," said his wife, mildly.
+
+"Then why can't he dance with somebody else himself?" Mr. Parcher
+inquired, testily. "Instead of standing around like a calf looking out
+of the butcher's wagon! By George! he looks as if he was just going to
+MOO!"
+
+"Of course he ought to be dancing with somebody," Mrs. Parcher remarked,
+thoughtfully. "There are one or two more girls than boys here, and
+he's the only boy not dancing. I believe I'll--" And, not stopping to
+complete the sentence, she rose and walked across the interval of grass
+to William. "Good evening, William," she said, pleasantly. "Don't you
+want to dance?"
+
+"Ma'am?" said William, blankly, and the eyes he turned upon here were
+glassy with anxiety. He was still determined to dance on and on and on
+with Miss Pratt, but he realized that there were great obstacles to be
+overcome before he could begin the process. He was feverishly awaiting
+the next interregnum between dances--then he would show Joe Bullitt and
+Johnnie Watson and Wallace Banks, and some others who had set themselves
+in his way, that he was "abs'lutely not goin' to stand it!"
+
+He couldn't stand it, he told himself, even if he wanted to--not
+to-night! He had "been through enough" in order to get to the party, he
+thought, thus defining sufferings connected with his costume, and now
+that he was here he WOULD dance and dance, on and on, with Miss Pratt.
+Anything else was unthinkable.
+
+He HAD to!
+
+"Don't you want to dance?" Mrs. Parcher repeated. "Have you looked
+around for a girl without a partner?"
+
+He continued to stare at her, plainly having no comprehension of her
+meaning.
+
+"Girl?" he echoed, in a tone of feeble inquiry.
+
+She smiled and nodded, taking his arm. "You come with me," she said.
+"I'LL fix you up!"
+
+William suffered her to conduct him across the yard. Intensely
+preoccupied with what he meant to do as soon as the music paused, he
+was somewhat hazy, but when he perceived that he was being led in the
+direction of a girl, sitting solitary under one of the maple-trees, the
+sudden shock of fear aroused his faculties.
+
+"What--where--" he stammered, halting and seeking to detach himself from
+his hostess.
+
+"What is it?" she asked.
+
+"I got--I got to--" William began, uneasily. "I got to--"
+
+His purpose was to excuse himself on the ground that he had to find a
+man and tell him something important before the next dance, for in the
+confusion of the moment his powers refused him greater originality.
+But the vital part of his intended excuse remained unspoken, being
+disregarded and cut short, as millions of other masculine diplomacies
+have been, throughout the centuries, by the decisive action of ladies.
+
+Miss Boke had been sitting under the mapletree for a long time--so long,
+indeed, that she was acquiring a profound distaste for forestry and even
+for maple syrup. In fact, her state of mind was as desperate, in its
+way, as William's; and when a hostess leads a youth (in almost perfectly
+fitting conventional black) toward a girl who has been sitting alone
+through dance after dance, that girl knows what that youth is going to
+have to do.
+
+It must be confessed for Miss Boke that her eyes had been upon William
+from the moment Mrs. Parcher addressed him. Nevertheless, as the pair
+came toward her she looked casually away in an indifferent manner. And
+yet this may have been but a seeming unconsciousness, for upon the very
+instant of William's halting, and before he had managed to stammer "I
+got to--" for the fourth time, Miss Boke sprang to her feet and met Mrs.
+Parcher more than halfway.
+
+"Oh, Mrs. Parcher!" she called, coming forward.
+
+"I got--" the panic-stricken William again hastily began. "I got to--"
+
+"Oh, Mrs. Parcher," cried Miss Boke, "I've been SO worried! There's a
+candle in that Japanese lantern just over your head, and I think it's
+going out."
+
+"I'll run and get a fresh one in a minute," said Mrs. Parcher, smiling
+benevolently and retaining William's arm with a little difficulty. "We
+were just coming to find you. I've brought--"
+
+"I got to--I got to find a m--" William made a last, stricken effort.
+
+"Miss Boke, this is Mr. Baxter," said Mrs. Parcher, and she added, with
+what seemed to William hideous garrulity, "He and you both came late,
+dear, and he hasn't any dances engaged, either. So run and dance, and
+have a nice time together."
+
+Thereupon this disastrous woman returned to her husband. Her look was
+conscientious; she thought she had done something pleasant!
+
+The full horror of his position was revealed to William in the relieved,
+confident, proprietor's smile of Miss Boke. For William lived by a code
+from which no previous experience had taught him any means of escape.
+Mrs. Parcher had made the statement--so needless and so ruinous--that
+he had no engagements; and in his dismay he had been unable to deny this
+fatal truth; he had been obliged to let it stand. Henceforth, he was
+committed absolutely to Miss Boke until either some one else asked her
+to dance, or (while yet in her close company) William could obtain an
+engagement with another girl. The latter alternative presented certain
+grave difficulties, also contracting William to dance with the other
+girl before once more obtaining his freedom, but undeniably he regarded
+it from the first as the more hopeful.
+
+He had to give form to the fatal invitation. "M'av this dance 'thyou?"
+he muttered, doggedly.
+
+"Vurry pleased to!" Miss Boke responded, whereupon they walked in
+silence to the platform, stepped upon its surface, and embraced.
+
+They made a false start.
+
+They made another.
+
+They stood swaying to catch the time; then made another. After that they
+tried again, and were saved from a fall only by spasmodic and noticeable
+contortions.
+
+Miss Boke laughed tolerantly, as if forgiving William for his
+awkwardness, and his hot heart grew hotter with that injustice. She was
+a large, ample girl, weighing more than William (this must be definitely
+claimed in his behalf), and she had been spending the summer at a
+lakeside hotel where she had constantly danced "man's part." To paint
+William's predicament at a stroke, his partner was a determined rather
+than a graceful dancer--and their efforts to attune themselves to each
+other and to the music were in a fair way to attract general attention.
+
+A coarse chuckle, a half-suppressed snort, assailed William's scarlet
+ear, and from the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of Joe Bullitt
+gliding by, suffused; while over Joe's detested shoulder could be seen
+the adorable and piquant face of the One girl--also suffused.
+
+"Doggone it!" William panted.
+
+"Oh, you mustn't be discouraged with yourself," said Miss Boke,
+genially. "I've met lots of Men that had trouble to get started and
+turned out to be right good dancers, after all. It seems to me we're
+kind of workin' against each other. I'll tell you--you kind of let me
+do the guiding and I'll get you going fine. Now! ONE, two, ONE, two!
+There!"
+
+William ceased to struggle for dominance, and their efforts to "get
+started" were at once successful. With a muscular power that was
+surprising, Miss Boke bore him out into the circling current, swung
+him round and round, walked him backward half across the platform, then
+swung him round and round and round again. For a girl, she "guided"
+remarkably well; nevertheless, a series of collisions, varying in
+intensity, marked the path of the pair upon the rather crowded platform.
+In such emergencies Miss Boke proved herself deft in swinging William
+to act as a buffer, and he several times found himself heavily stricken
+from the rear; anon his face would be pressed suffocatingly into Miss
+Boke's hair, without the slightest wish on his part for such intimacy.
+He had a helpless feeling, fully warranted by the circumstances. Also,
+he soon became aware that Miss Boke's powerful "guiding" was observed
+by the public; for, after one collision, more severe than others, a low
+voice hissed in his ear:
+
+"SHE WON'T HURT YOU MUCH, SILLY BILL. SHE'S ONLY IN FUN!"
+
+This voice belonged to the dancer with whom he had just been in painful
+contact, Johnnie Watson. However, Johnnie had whirled far upon another
+orbit before William found a retort, and then it was a feeble one.
+
+"I wish YOU'D try a few dances with her!" he whispered, inaudibly, but
+with unprecedented bitterness, as the masterly arm of his partner just
+saved him from going over the edge of the platform. "I bet she'd kill
+you!"
+
+More than once he tried to assert himself and resume his natural place
+as guide, but each time he did so he immediately got out of step with
+his partner, their knees collided embarrassingly, they staggered and
+walked upon each other's insteps--and William was forced to abandon the
+unequal contest.
+
+"I just love dancing," said Miss Boke, serenely. "Don't you, Mr.
+Baxter?"
+
+"What?" he gulped. "Yeh."
+
+"It's a beautiful floor for dancing, isn't it?"
+
+"Yeh."
+
+"I just love dancing," Miss Boke thought proper to declare again. "Don't
+you love it, Mr. Baxter?"
+
+This time he considered his enthusiasm to be sufficiently indicated by a
+nod. He needed all his breath.
+
+"It's lovely," she murmured. "I hope they don't play 'Home, Sweet
+Home' very early at parties in this town. I could keep on like this all
+night!"
+
+To the gasping William it seemed that she already had kept on like this
+all night, and he expressed himself in one great, frank, agonized moan
+of relief when the music stopped. "I sh' think those musicians 'd be
+dead!" he said, as he wiped his brow. And then discovering that May
+Parcher stood at his elbow, he spoke hastily to her. "M'av the next
+'thyou?"
+
+But Miss Parcher had begun to applaud the musicians for an encore. She
+shook her head. "Next's the third extra," she said. "And, anyhow, this
+one's going to be encored now. You can have the twenty-second--if there
+IS any!" William threw a wild glance about him, looking for other girls,
+but the tireless orchestra began to play the encore, and Miss Boke, who
+had been applauding, instantly cast herself upon his bosom. "Come on!"
+she cried. "Don't let's miss a second of it; It's just glorious!"
+
+When the encore was finished she seized William's arm, and, mentioning
+that she'd left her fan upon the chair under the maple-tree, added,
+"Come on! Let's go get it QUICK!"
+
+Under the maple-tree she fanned herself and talked of her love for
+dancing until the music sounded again. "Come on!" she cried, then.
+"Don't let's miss a second of it! It's just glorious!"
+
+And grasping his arm, she propelled him toward the platform with a merry
+little rush.
+
+So passed five dances. Long, long dances.
+
+Likewise five encores. Long encores.
+
+
+
+
+XXVII
+
+MAROONED
+
+At every possible opportunity William hailed other girls with a hasty
+"M'av the next 'thyou?" but he was indeed unfortunate to have arrived so
+late.
+
+The best he got was a promise of "the nineteenth--if there IS any!"
+
+After each dance Miss Boke conducted him back to the maple-tree, aloof
+from the general throng, and William found the intermissions almost
+equal to his martyrdoms upon the platform. But, as there was a barely
+perceptible balance in their favor, he collected some fragments of his
+broken spirit, when Miss Boke would have borne him to the platform for
+the sixth time, and begged to "sit this one out," alleging that he had
+"kind of turned his ankle, or something," he believed.
+
+The cordial girl at once placed him upon the chair and gallantly
+procured another for herself. In her solicitude she sat close to him,
+looking fondly at his face, while William, though now and then rubbing
+his ankle for plausibility's sake, gazed at the platform with an
+expression which Gustave Dore would gratefully have found suggestive.
+William was conscious of a voice continually in action near him, but
+not of what it said. Miss Boke was telling him of the dancing "up at the
+lake" where she had spent the summer, and how much she had loved it, but
+William missed all that. Upon the many-colored platform the ineffable
+One drifted to and fro, back and forth; her little blonde head, in a
+golden net, glinting here and there like a bit of tinsel blowing across
+a flower-garden.
+
+And when that dance and its encore were over she went to lean against a
+tree, while Wallace Banks fanned her, but she was so busy with Wallace
+that she did not notice William, though she passed near enough to waft a
+breath of violet scent to his wan nose. A fragment of her silver speech
+tinkled in his ear:
+
+"Oh, Wallie Banks! Bid pid s'ant have Bruvva Josie-Joe's dance 'less Joe
+say so. Lola MUS' be fair. Wallie mustn't--"
+
+"That's that Miss Pratt," observed Miss Boke, following William's gaze
+with some interest. "You met her yet?"
+
+"Yeh," said William.
+
+"She's been visiting here all summer," Miss Boke informed him. "I was at
+a little tea this afternoon, and some of the girls said this Miss Pratt
+said she'd never DREAM of getting engaged to any man that didn't have
+seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars. I don't know if it's true or
+not, but I expect so. Anyway, they said they heard her say so."
+
+William lifted his right hand from his ankle and passed it, time after
+time, across his damp forehead. He did not believe that Miss Pratt could
+have expressed herself in so mercenary a manner, but if she HAD--well,
+one fact in British history had so impressed him that he remembered
+it even after Examination: William Pitt, the younger, had been Prime
+Minister of England at twenty-one.
+
+If an Englishman could do a thing like that, surely a bright, energetic
+young American needn't feel worried about seven hundred and fifty
+thousand dollars! And although William, at seventeen, had seldom
+possessed more than seven hundred and fifty cents, four long years must
+pass, and much could be done, before he would reach the age at which
+William Pitt attained the premiership--coincidentally a good, ripe,
+marriageable age. Still, seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars is
+a stiffish order, even allowing four long years to fill it; and
+undoubtedly Miss Boke's bit of gossip added somewhat to the already
+sufficient anxieties of William's evening.
+
+"Up at the lake," Miss Boke chattered on, "we got to use the hotel
+dining-room for the hops. It's a floor a good deal like this floor is
+to-night--just about oily enough and as nice a floor as ever I danced
+on. We have awf'ly good times up at the lake. 'Course there aren't so
+many Men up there, like there are here to-night, and I MUST say I AM
+glad to get a chance to dance with a Man again! I told you you'd dance
+all right, once we got started, and look at the way it's turned out:
+our steps just suit exactly! If I must say it, I could scarcely think of
+anybody I EVER met I'd rather dance with. When anybody's step suits in
+with mine, that way, why, I LOVE to dance straight through an evening
+with one person, the way we're doing."
+
+Dimly, yet with strong repulsion, William perceived that their
+interminable companionship had begun to affect Miss Boke with a liking
+for him. And as she chattered chummily on, revealing this increasing
+cordiality all the while--though her more obvious topics were dancing,
+dancing-floors, and "the lake"--the reciprocal sentiment roused in his
+breast was that of Sindbad the Sailor for the Old Man of the Sea.
+
+He was unable to foresee a future apart from her; and when she informed
+him that she preferred his style of dancing to all other styles shown
+by the Men at this party, her thus singling him out for praise only
+emphasized, in his mind, that point upon which he was the most
+embittered.
+
+"Yes!" he reflected. "It had to be ME!" With all the crowd to choose
+from, Mrs. Parcher had to go and pick on HIM! All, all the others went
+about, free as air, flitting from girl to girl--girls that danced like
+girls! All, all except William, danced with Miss PRATT! What Miss Pratt
+had offered HIM was a choice between the thirty-second dance and
+the twenty-first extra. THAT was what he had to look forward to: the
+thirty-second reg'lar or the twenty-first extra!
+
+Meanwhile, merely through eternity, he was sealed unto Miss Boke.
+
+The tie that bound them oppressed him as if it had been an ill-omened
+matrimony, and he sat beside her like an unwilling old husband. All the
+while, Miss Boke had no appreciation whatever of her companion's real
+condition, and, when little, spasmodic, sinister changes appeared in his
+face (as they certainly did from time to time) she attributed them to
+pains in his ankle. However, William decided to discard his ankle,
+after they had "sat out" two dances on account of it. He decided that he
+preferred dancing, and said he guessed he must be better.
+
+So they danced again--and again.
+
+When the fourteenth dance came, about half an hour before midnight, they
+were still dancing together.
+
+It was upon the conclusion of this fourteenth dance that Mr. Parcher
+mentioned to his wife a change in his feelings toward William. "I've
+been watching him," said Mr. Parcher, "and I never saw true misery show
+plainer. He's having a really horrible time. By George! I hate him, but
+I've begun to feel kind of sorry for him! Can't you trot up somebody
+else, so he can get away from that fat girl?"
+
+Mrs. Parcher shook her head in a discouraged way. "I've tried, and I've
+tried, and I've tried!" she said.
+
+"Well, try again."
+
+"I can't now." She waved her hand toward the rear of the house. Round
+the corner marched a short procession of negroes, bearing trays; and
+the dancers were dispersing themselves to chairs upon the lawn "for
+refreshments."
+
+"Well, do something," Mr. Parcher urged. "We don't want to find him in
+the cistern in the morning!"
+
+Mrs. Parcher looked thoughtful, then brightened. "_I_ know!" she said.
+"I'll make May and Lola and their partners come sit in this little
+circle of chairs here, and then I'll go and bring Willie and Miss Boke
+to sit with them. I'll give Willie the seat at Lola's left. You keep the
+chairs."
+
+Straightway she sped upon her kindly errand. It proved successful, so
+successful, indeed, that without the slightest effort--without even a
+hint on her part--she brought not only William and his constant friend
+to sit in the circle with Miss Pratt, Miss Parcher and their escorts,
+but Mr. Bullitt, Mr. Watson, Mr. Banks, and three other young gentlemen
+as well. Nevertheless, Mrs. Parcher managed to carry out her plan,
+and after a little display of firmness, saw William satisfactorily
+established in the chair at Miss Pratt's left.
+
+At last, at last, he sat beside the fairy-like creature, and filled
+his lungs with infinitesimal particles of violet scent. More: he was no
+sooner seated than the little blonde head bent close to his; the golden
+net brushed his cheek. She whispered:
+
+"No'ty ickle boy Batster! Lola's last night, an' ickle boy Batster
+fluttin'! Flut all night wif dray bid dirl!"
+
+William made no reply.
+
+There are occasions, infrequent, of course, when even a bachelor is not
+flattered by being accused of flirting. William's feelings toward Miss
+Boke had by this time come to such a pass that he, regarded the charge
+of flirting with her as little less than an implication of grave
+mental deficiency. And well he remembered how Miss Pratt, beholding his
+subjugated gymnastics in the dance, had grown pink with laughter! But
+still the rose-leaf lips whispered:
+
+"Lola saw! Lola saw bad boy Batster under dray bid tree fluttin' wif
+dray bid dirl. Fluttin' all night wif dray bid 'normous dirl!"
+
+Her cruelty was all unwitting; she intended to rally him sweetly. But
+seventeen is deathly serious at such junctures, and William was in a
+sensitive condition. He made no reply in words. Instead, he drew himself
+up (from the waist, that is, because he was sitting) with a kind of
+proud dignity. And that was all.
+
+"Oo tross?" whispered Lola.
+
+He spake not.
+
+"'Twasn't my fault about dancing," she said. "Bad boy! What made you
+come so late?"
+
+He maintained his silence and the accompanying icy dignity, whereupon
+she made a charming little pout.
+
+"Oo be so tross," she said, "Lola talk to nice Man uvver side of her!"
+
+With that she turned her back upon him and prattled merrily to the
+gentleman of sixteen upon her right.
+
+Still and cold sat William. Let her talk to the Man at the other side
+of her as she would, and never so gaily, William knew that she was
+conscious every instant of the reproachful presence upon her left. And
+somehow these moments of quiet and melancholy dignity became the most
+satisfactory he had known that evening. For as he sat, so silent, so
+austere, and not yet eating, though a plate of chicken salad had been
+placed upon his lap, he began to feel that there was somewhere about
+him a mysterious superiority which set him apart from other people--and
+above them. This quality, indefinable and lofty, had carried him through
+troubles, that very night, which would have wrecked the lives of such
+simple fellows as Joe Bullitt and Johnnie Watson. And although Miss
+Pratt continued to make merry with the Man upon her right, it seemed
+to William that this was but outward show. He had a strange, subtle
+impression that the mysterious superiority which set him apart from
+others was becoming perceptible to her--that she was feeling it, too.
+
+Alas! Such are the moments Fate seizes upon to play the clown!
+
+Over the chatter and laughter of the guests rose a too familiar voice.
+"Lemme he'p you to nice tongue samwich, lady. No'm? Nice green lettuce
+samwich, lady?"
+
+Genesis!
+
+"Nice tongue samwich, suh? Nice lettuce samwich, lady?" he could be
+heard vociferating--perhaps a little too much as if he had sandwiches
+for sale. "Lemme jes' lay this nice green lettuce samwich on you' plate
+fer you."
+
+His wide-spread hand bore the tray of sandwiches high overhead, for his
+style in waiting was florid, though polished. He walked with a faint,
+shuffling suggestion of a prance, a lissome pomposity adopted in
+obedience to the art-sense within him which bade him harmonize himself
+with occasions of state and fashion. His manner was the super-supreme
+expression of graciousness, but the graciousness was innocent, being but
+an affectation and nothing inward--for inwardly Genesis was humble. He
+was only pretending to be the kind of waiter he would like to be.
+
+And because he was a new waiter he strongly wished to show familiarity
+with his duties--familiarity, in fact, with everything and everybody.
+This yearning, born of self-doubt, and intensified by a slight touch of
+gin, was beyond question the inspiration of his painful behavior when
+he came near the circle of chairs where sat Mr. and Mrs. Parcher, Miss
+Parcher, Miss Pratt, Miss Boke, Mr. Watson, Mr. Bullitt, others--and
+William.
+
+"Nice tongue samwich, lady!" he announced, semi-cake-walking beneath his
+high-borne tray.
+
+"Nice green lettuce sam--" He came suddenly to a dramatic dead-stop as he
+beheld William sitting before him, wearing that strange new dignity and
+Mr. Baxter's evening clothes. "Name o' goo'ness!" Genesis exclaimed, so
+loudly that every one looked up. "How in the livin' worl' you evuh come
+to git here? You' daddy sut'ny mus' 'a' weakened 'way down 'fo' he let
+you wear his low-cut ves' an' pants an' long-tail coat! I bet any man
+fifty cents you gone an' stole 'em out aftuh he done went to bed!"
+
+And he burst into a wild, free African laugh.
+
+At seventeen such things are not embarrassing; they are catastrophical.
+But, mercifully, catastrophes often produce a numbness in the victims.
+More as in a trance than actually William heard the outbreak of his
+young companions; and, during the quarter of an hour subsequent to
+Genesis's performance, the oft-renewed explosions of their mirth made
+but a kind of horrid buzzing in his ears. Like sounds borne from far
+away were the gaspings of Mr. and Mrs. Parcher, striving with all their
+strength to obtain mastery of themselves once more.
+
+... A flourish of music challenged the dancers. Couples appeared upon
+the platform.
+
+The dreadful supper was over.
+
+The ineffable One, supremely pink, rose from her seat at William's
+side and moved toward the platform with the glowing Joe Bullitt. Then
+William, roused to action by this sight, sprang to his feet and took a
+step toward them. But it was only one weak step.
+
+A warm and ample hand placed itself firmly inside the crook of his
+elbow. "Let's get started for this one before the floor gets all crowded
+up," said Miss Boke.
+
+Miss Boke danced and danced with him; she danced him on--and on--and
+on----
+
+At half past one the orchestra played "Home, Sweet Home." As the last
+bars sounded, a group of earnest young men who had surrounded the lovely
+guest of honor, talking vehemently, broke into loud shouts, embraced one
+another and capered variously over the lawn. Mr. Parcher beheld from a
+distance these manifestations, and then, with an astonishment even more
+profound, took note of the tragic William, who was running toward him,
+radiant--Miss Boke hovering futilely in the far background.
+
+"What's all the hullabaloo?" Mr. Parcher inquired.
+
+"Miss Pratt!" gasped William. "Miss Pratt!"
+
+"Well, what about her?"
+
+And upon receiving William's reply, Mr. Parcher might well have
+discerned behind it the invisible hand of an ironic but recompensing
+Providence making things even--taking from the one to give to the other.
+
+"She's going to stay!" shouted the happy William. "She's promised to
+stay another week!"
+
+And then, mingling with the sounds of rejoicing, there ascended to
+heaven the stricken cry of an elderly man plunging blindly into the
+house in search of his wife.
+
+
+
+
+XXVIII
+
+RANNIE KIRSTED
+
+Observing the monotonously proper behavior of the sun, man had an absurd
+idea and invented Time. Becoming still more absurd, man said, "So much
+shall be a day; such and such shall be a week. All weeks shall be the
+same length." Yet every baby knows better! How long for Johnnie Watson,
+for Joe Bullitt, for Wallace Banks--how long for William Sylvanus Baxter
+was the last week of Miss Pratt? No one can answer. How long was that
+week for Mr. Parcher? Again the mind is staggered.
+
+Many people, of course, considered it to be a week of average size.
+Among these was Jane.
+
+Throughout seven days which brought some tense moments to the Baxter
+household, Jane remained calm; and she was still calm upon the eighth
+morning as she stood in the front yard of her own place of residence,
+gazing steadily across the street. The object of her grave attention was
+an ample brick house, newly painted white after repairs and enlargements
+so inspiring to Jane's faculty for suggesting better ways of doing
+things, that the workmen had learned to address her, with a slight
+bitterness, as "Madam President."
+
+Throughout the process of repair, and until the very last of the
+painting, Jane had considered this house to be as much her property as
+anybody's; for children regard as ownerless all vacant houses and all
+houses in course of construction or radical alteration. Nothing short of
+furniture--intimate furniture in considerable quantity--hints that the
+public is not expected. However, such a hint, or warning, was conveyed
+to Jane this morning, for two "express wagons" were standing at the curb
+with their backs impolitely toward the brick house; and powerful-voiced
+men went surging to and fro under fat arm-chairs, mahogany tables,
+disarticulated bedsteads, and baskets of china and glassware; while a
+harassed lady appeared in the outer doorway, from time to time, with
+gestures of lamentation and entreaty. Upon the sidewalk, between the
+wagons and the gate, was a broad wet spot, vaguely circular, with a
+partial circumference of broken glass and extinct goldfish.
+
+Jane was forced to conclude that the brick house did belong to somebody,
+after all. Wherefore, she remained in her own yard, a steadfast
+spectator, taking nourishment into her system at regular intervals.
+This was beautifully automatic: in each hand she held a slice of bread,
+freely plastered over with butter, apple sauce, and powdered sugar;
+and when she had taken somewhat from the right hand, that hand slowly
+descended with its burden, while, simultaneously, the left began to
+rise, reaching the level of her mouth precisely at the moment when a
+little wave passed down her neck, indicating that the route was clear.
+Then, having made delivery, the left hand sank, while the right began to
+rise again. And, so well had custom trained Jane's members, never once
+did she glance toward either of these faithful hands or the food that
+it supported; her gaze was all the while free to remain upon the house
+across the way and the great doings before it.
+
+After a while, something made her wide eyes grow wider almost to their
+utmost. Nay, the event was of that importance her mechanical hands
+ceased to move and stopped stock-still, the right half-way up, the left
+half-way down, as if because of sudden motor trouble within Jane. Her
+mouth was equally affected, remaining open at a visible crisis in the
+performance of its duty. These were the tokens of her agitation upon
+beholding the removal of a dolls' house from one of the wagons. This
+dolls' house was at least five feet high, of proportionate breadth and
+depths the customary absence of a facade disclosing an interior of four
+luxurious floors, with stairways, fireplaces, and wall-paper. Here was a
+mansion wherein doll-duchesses, no less, must dwell.
+
+Straightway, a little girl ran out of the open doorway of the brick
+house and, with a self-importance concentrated to the point of
+shrewishness, began to give orders concerning the disposal of her
+personal property, which included (as she made clear) not only the
+dolls' mansion, but also three dolls' trunks and a packing-case of fair
+size. She was a thin little girl, perhaps half a year younger than Jane;
+and she was as soiled, particularly in respect to hands, brow, chin, and
+the knees of white stockings, as could be expected of any busybodyish
+person of nine or ten whose mother is house-moving. But she was
+gifted--if we choose to put the matter in the hopeful, sweeter way--she
+was gifted with an unusually loud and shrill voice, and she made herself
+heard over the strong-voiced men to such emphatic effect that one of the
+latter, with the dolls' mansion upon his back, paused in the gateway to
+acquaint her with his opinion that of all the bossy little girls he had
+ever seen, heard, or heard of, she was the bossiest.
+
+"THE worst!" he added.
+
+The little girl across the street was of course instantly aware of Jane,
+though she pretended not to be; and from the first her self-importance
+was in large part assumed for the benefit of the observer. After a
+momentary silence, due to her failure to think of any proper response to
+the workman who so pointedly criticized her, she resumed the peremptory
+direction of her affairs. She ran in and out of the house, her brow dark
+with frowns, her shoulders elevated; and by every means at her disposal
+she urged her audience to behold the frightful responsibilities of one
+who must keep a thousand things in her head at once, and yet be ready
+for decisive action at any instant.
+
+There may have been one weakness in this strong performance: the
+artistic sincerity of it was a little discredited by the increasing
+frequency with which the artist took note of her effect. During each
+of her most impressive moments, she flashed, from the far corner of her
+eye, two questions at Jane: "How about THAT one? Are you still watching
+Me?"
+
+Then, apparently in the very midst of her cares, she suddenly and
+without warning ceased to boss, walked out into the street, halted, and
+stared frankly at Jane.
+
+Jane had begun her automatic feeding again. She continued it, meanwhile
+seriously returning the stare of the new neighbor. For several minutes
+this mutual calm and inoffensive gaze was protracted; then Jane, after
+swallowing the last morsel of her supplies, turned her head away and
+looked at a tree. The little girl, into whose eyes some wistfulness had
+crept, also turned her head and looked at a tree. After a while, she
+advanced to the curb on Jane's side of the street, and, swinging her
+right foot, allowed it to kick the curbstone repeatedly.
+
+Jane came out to the sidewalk and began to kick one of the
+fence-pickets.
+
+"You see that ole fatty?" asked the little girl, pointing to one of the
+workmen, thus sufficiently identified.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"That's the one broke the goldfish," said the little girl. There was a
+pause during which she continued to scuff the curbstone with her shoe,
+Jane likewise scuffing the fence-picket. "I'm goin' to have papa get him
+arrested," added the stranger.
+
+"My papa got two men arrested once," Jane said, calmly. "Two or three."
+
+The little girl's eyes, wandering upward, took note of Jane's papa's
+house, and of a fierce young gentleman framed in an open window
+up-stairs. He was seated, wore ink upon his forehead, and tapped his
+teeth with a red penholder.
+
+"Who is that?" she asked.
+
+"It's Willie."
+
+"Is it your papa?"
+
+"NO-O-O-O!" Jane exclaimed. "It's WILLIE!"
+
+"Oh," said the little girl, apparently satisfied.
+
+Each now scuffed less energetically with her shoe; feet slowed down;
+so did conversation, and, for a time, Jane and the stranger wrapped
+themselves in stillness, though there may have been some silent
+communing between them. Then the new neighbor placed her feet far apart
+and leaned backward upon nothing, curving her front outward and her
+remarkably flexible spine inward until a profile view of her was grandly
+semicircular.
+
+Jane watched her attentively, but without comment. However, no one
+could have doubted that the processes of acquaintance were progressing
+favorably.
+
+"Let's go in our yard," said Jane.
+
+The little girl straightened herself with a slight gasp, and accepted
+the invitation. Side by side, the two passed through the open gate,
+walked gravely forth upon the lawn, and halted, as by common consent.
+Jane thereupon placed her feet wide apart and leaned backward upon
+nothing, attempting the feat in contortion just performed by the
+stranger.
+
+"Look," she said. "Look at ME!"
+
+But she lacked the other's genius, lost her balance, and fell. Born
+persistent, she immediately got to her feet and made fresh efforts.
+
+"No! Look at ME!" the little girl cried, becoming semicircular again.
+"This is the way. I call it 'puttin' your stummick out o' joint.' You
+haven't got yours out far enough."
+
+"Yes, I have," said Jane, gasping.
+
+"Well, to do it right, you must WALK that way. As soon as you get your
+stummick out o' joint, you must begin an' walk. Look! Like this." And
+the little girl, having achieved a state of such convexity that her
+braided hair almost touched the ground behind her, walked successfully
+in that singular attitude.
+
+"I'm walkin'," Jane protested, her face not quite upside down. "Look!
+I'M walkin' that way, too. My stummick--"
+
+There came an outraged shout from above, and a fierce countenance,
+stained with ink, protruded from the window.
+
+"Jane!"
+
+"What?"
+
+"Stop that! Stop putting your stomach out in front of you like that!
+It's disgraceful!"
+
+Both young ladies, looking rather oppressed, resumed the perpendicular.
+"Why doesn't he like it?" the stranger asked in a tone of pure wonder.
+
+"I don't know," said Jane. "He doesn't like much of anything. He's
+seventeen years old."
+
+After that, the two stared moodily at the ground for a little while,
+chastened by the severe presence above; then Jane brightened.
+
+"_I_ know!" she exclaimed, cozily. "Let's play callers. Right here by
+this bush 'll be my house. You come to call on me, an' we'll talk
+about our chuldren. You be Mrs. Smith an' I'm Mrs. Jones." And in the
+character of a hospitable matron she advanced graciously toward the new
+neighbor. "Why, my dear Mrs. SMITH, come right IN! I THOUGHT you'd call
+this morning. I want to tell you about my lovely little daughter. She's
+only ten years old, an' says the brightest THINGS! You really must--"
+
+But here Jane interrupted herself abruptly, and, hopping behind the
+residential bush, peeped over it, not at Mrs. Smith, but at a boy of ten
+or eleven who was passing along the sidewalk. Her expression was gravely
+interested, somewhat complacent; and Mrs. Smith was not so lacking in
+perception that she failed to understand how completely--for the time
+being, at least--calling was suspended.
+
+The boy whistled briskly, "My country, 'tis of thee," and though his
+knowledge of the air failed him when he finished the second line, he
+was not disheartened, but began at the beginning again, continuing
+repeatedly after this fashion to offset monotony by patriotism. He
+whistled loudly; he walked with ostentatious intent to be at some heavy
+affair in the distance; his ears were red. He looked neither to the
+right nor to the left.
+
+That is, he looked neither to the right nor to the left until he had
+passed the Baxters' fence. But when he had gone as far as the upper
+corner of the fence beyond, he turned his head and looked back, without
+any expression--except that of a whistler--at Jane. And thus, still
+whistling "My country, 'tis of thee," and with blank pink face over his
+shoulder, he proceeded until he was out of sight.
+
+"Who was that boy?" the new neighbor then inquired.
+
+"It's Freddie," said Jane, placidly. "He's in our Sunday-school. He's in
+love of me."
+
+"JANE!"
+
+Again the outraged and ink-stained countenance glared down from the
+window.
+
+"What you want?" Jane asked.
+
+"What you MEAN talking about such things?" William demanded. "In all my
+life I never heard anything as disgusting! Shame on you!"
+
+The little girl from across the street looked upward thoughtfully. "He's
+mad," she remarked, and, regardless of Jane's previous information, "It
+IS your papa, isn't it?" she insisted.
+
+"No!" said Jane, testily. "I told you five times it's my brother
+Willie."
+
+"Oh!" said the little girl, and, grasping the fact that William's
+position was, in dignity and authority, negligible, compared with that
+which she had persisted in imagining, she felt it safe to tint her
+upward gaze with disfavor. "He acts kind of crazy," she murmured.
+
+"He's in love of Miss Pratt," said Jane. "She's goin' away to-day. She
+said she'd go before, but to-day she IS! Mr. Parcher, where she visits,
+he's almost dead, she's stayed so long. She's awful, I think."
+
+William, to whom all was audible, shouted, hoarsely, "I'll see to YOU!"
+and disappeared from the window.
+
+"Will he come down here?" the little girl asked, taking a step toward
+the gate.
+
+"No. He's just gone to call mamma. All she'll do' ll be to tell us to go
+play somewheres else. Then we can go talk to Genesis."
+
+"Who?"
+
+"Genesis. He's puttin' a load of coal in the cellar window with a
+shovel. He's nice."
+
+"What's he put the coal in the window for?"
+
+"He's a colored man," said Jane.
+
+"Shall we go talk to him now?"
+
+"No," Jane said, thoughtfully. "Let's be playin' callers when mamma
+comes to tell us to go 'way. What was your name?"
+
+"Rannie."
+
+"No, it wasn't."
+
+"It is too, Rannie," the little girl insisted. "My whole name's Mary
+Randolph Kirsted, but my short name's Rannie."
+
+Jane laughed. "What a funny name!" she said. "I didn't mean your real
+name; I meant your callers' name. One of us was Mrs. Jones, and one
+was--"
+
+"I want to be Mrs. Jones," said Rannie.
+
+"Oh, my DEAR Mrs. Jones," Jane began at once, "I want to tell you
+about my lovely chuldren. I have two, one only seven years old, and the
+other--"
+
+"Jane!" called Mrs. Baxter from William's window.
+
+"Yes'm?"
+
+"You must go somewhere else to play. Willie's trying to work at his
+studies up here, and he says you've disturbed him very much."
+
+"Yes'm."
+
+The obedient Jane and her friend turned to go, and as they went, Miss
+Mary Randolph Kirsted allowed her uplifted eyes to linger with increased
+disfavor upon William, who appeared beside Mrs. Baxter at the window.
+
+"I tell you what let's do," Rannie suggested in a lowered voice. "He got
+so fresh with us, an' made your mother come, an' all, let's--let's--"
+
+She hesitated.
+
+"Let's what?" Jane urged her, in an eager whisper.
+
+"Let's think up somep'n he won't like--an' DO it!"
+
+They disappeared round a corner of the house, their heads close
+together.
+
+
+
+
+XXIX
+
+"DON'T FORGET!"
+
+Up-stairs, Mrs. Baxter moved to the door of her son's room, pretending
+to be unconscious of the gaze he maintained upon her. Mustering courage
+to hum a little tune and affecting inconsequence, she had nearly crossed
+the threshold when he said, sternly:
+
+"And this is all you intend to say to that child?"
+
+"Why, yes, Willie."
+
+"And yet I told you what she said!" he cried. "I told you I HEARD her
+stand there and tell that dirty-faced little girl how that idiot boy
+that's always walkin' past here four or five times a day, whistling and
+looking back, was in 'love of' her! Ye gods! What kind of a person will
+she grow up into if you don't punish her for havin' ideas like that at
+her age?"
+
+Mrs. Baxter regarded him mildly, not replying, and he went on, with loud
+indignation:
+
+"I never heard of such a thing! That Worm walkin' past here four or five
+times a day just to look at JANE! And her standing there, calmly tellin'
+that sooty-faced little girl, 'He's in love of me'! Why, it's enough to
+sicken a man! Honestly, if I had my way, I'd see that both she and that
+little Freddie Banks got a first-class whipping!"
+
+"Don't you think, Willie," said Mrs. Baxter--"don't you think that,
+considering the rather noncommittal method of Freddie's courtship, you
+are suggesting extreme measures?"
+
+"Well, SHE certainly ought to be punished!" he insisted, and then, with
+a reversal to agony, he shuddered. "That's the least of it!" he cried.
+"It's the insulting things you always allow her to say of one of the
+noblest girls in the United States--THAT'S what counts! On the very last
+day--yes, almost the last hour--that Miss Pratt's in this town, you let
+your only daughter stand there and speak disrespectfully of her--and
+then all you do is tell her to 'go and play somewhere else'! I don't
+understand your way of bringing up a child," he declared, passionately.
+"I do NOT!"
+
+"There, there, Willie," Mrs. Baxter said. "You're all wrought up--"
+
+"I am NOT wrought up!" shouted William. "Why should I be charged with--"
+
+"Now, now!" she said. "You'll feel better to-morrow."
+
+"What do you mean by that?" he demanded, breathing deeply.
+
+For reply she only shook her head in an odd little way, and in her
+parting look at him there was something at once compassionate, amused,
+and reassuring.
+
+"You'll be all right, Willie," she said, softly, and closed the door.
+
+Alone, William lifted clenched hands in a series of tumultuous
+gestures at the ceiling; then he moaned and sank into a chair at his
+writing-table. Presently a comparative calm was restored to him, and
+with reverent fingers he took from a drawer a one-pound box of candy,
+covered with white tissue-paper, girdled with blue ribbon. He set the
+box gently beside him upon the table; then from beneath a large, green
+blotter drew forth some scribbled sheets. These he placed before him,
+and, taking infinite pains with his handwriting, slowly copied:
+
+
+DEAR LOLA--I presume when you are reading these lines it will be this
+afternoon and you will be on the train moving rapidly away from this old
+place here farther and farther from it all. As I sit here at my old desk
+and look back upon it all while I am writing this farewell letter I hope
+when you are reading it you also will look back upon it all and think
+of one you called (Alias) Little Boy Baxter. As I sit here this morning
+that you are going away at last I look back and I cannot rember any
+summer in my whole life which has been like this summer, because a great
+change has come over me this summer. If you would like to know what this
+means it was something like I said when John Watson got there yesterday
+afternoon and interrupted what I said. May you enjoy this candy and think
+of the giver. I will put something in with this letter. It is something
+maybe you would like to have and in exchange I would give all I possess
+for one of you if you would send it to me when you get home. Please do
+this for now my heart is braking. Yours sincerely, WILLIAM S. BAXTER
+(ALIAS) LITTLE BOY BAXTER.
+
+
+William opened the box of candy and placed the letter upon the top layer
+of chocolates. Upon the letter he placed a small photograph (wrapped in
+tissue-paper) of himself. Then, with a pair of scissors, he trimmed
+an oblong of white cardboard to fit into the box. Upon this piece of
+cardboard he laboriously wrote, copying from a tortured, inky sheet
+before him:
+
+     IN DREAM
+     BY WILLIAM S. BAXTER
+
+     The sunset light
+     Fades into night
+     But never will I forget
+     The smile that haunts me yet
+     Through the future four long years
+     I hope you will remember with tears
+     Whate'er my rank or station
+     Whilst receiving my education
+     Though far away you seem
+     I will see thee in dream.
+
+He placed his poem between the photograph and the letter, closed the
+box, and tied the tissue-paper about it again with the blue ribbon.
+Throughout these rites (they were rites both in spirit and in manner) he
+was subject to little catchings of the breath, half gulp, half sigh. But
+the dolorous tokens passed, and he sat with elbows upon the table,
+his chin upon his hands, reverie in his eyes. Tragedy had given way to
+gentler pathos;--beyond question, something had measurably soothed him.
+Possibly, even in this hour preceding the hour of parting, he knew a
+little of that proud amazement which any poet is entitled to feel over
+each new lyric miracle just wrought.
+
+Perhaps he was helped, too, by wondering what Miss Pratt would think of
+him when she read "In Dream," on the train that afternoon. For reasons
+purely intuitive, and decidedly without foundation in fact, he was
+satisfied that no rival farewell poem would be offered her, and so it
+may be that he thought "In Dream" might show her at last, in one blaze
+of light, what her eyes had sometimes fleetingly intimated she did
+perceive in part--the difference between William and such every-day,
+rather well-meaning, fairly good-hearted people as Joe Bullitt, Wallace
+Banks, Johnnie Watson, and others. Yes, when she came to read "In
+Dream," and to "look back upon it all," she would surely know--at last!
+
+And then, when the future four long years (while receiving his
+education) had passed, he would go to her. He would go to her, and
+she would take him by the hand, and lead him to her father, and say,
+"Father, this is William."
+
+But William would turn to her, and, with the old, dancing light in his
+eyes, "No, Lola," he would say, "not William, but Ickle Boy Baxter!
+Always and always, just that for you; oh, my dear!"
+
+And then, as in story and film and farce and the pleasanter kinds of
+drama, her father would say, with kindly raillery, "Well, when you two
+young people get through, you'll find me in the library, where I have a
+pretty good BUSINESS proposition to lay before YOU, young man!"
+
+And when the white-waistcoated, white-side-burned old man had,
+chuckling, left the room, William would slowly lift his arms; but Lola
+would move back from him a step--only a step--and after laying a finger
+archly upon her lips to check him, "Wait, sir!" she would say. "I have a
+question to ask you, sir!"
+
+"What question, Lola?"
+
+"THIS question, sir!" she would reply. "In all that summer, sir, so long
+ago, why did you never tell me what you WERE, until I had gone away and
+it was too late to show you what I felt? Ah, Ickle Boy Baxter, I never
+understood until I looked back upon it all, after I had read 'In Dream,'
+on the train that day! THEN I KNEW!" "And now, Lola?" William would say.
+"Do you understand me, NOW?"
+
+Shyly she would advance the one short step she had put between
+them, while he, with lifted, yearning arms, this time destined to no
+disappointment----
+
+At so vital a moment did Mrs. Baxter knock at his door and consoling
+reverie cease to minister unto William. Out of the rosy sky he dropped,
+falling miles in an instant, landing with a bump. He started, placed the
+sacred box out of sight, and spoke gruffly.
+
+"What you want?"
+
+"I'm not coming in, Willie," said his mother. "I just wanted to know--I
+thought maybe you were looking out of the window and noticed where those
+children went."
+
+"What children?"
+
+"Jane and that little girl from across the street--Kirsted, her name
+must be."
+
+"No. I did not."
+
+"I just wondered," Mrs. Baxter said, timidly. "Genesis thinks he
+heard the little Kirsted girl telling Jane she had plenty of money for
+carfare. He thinks they went somewhere on a street-car. I thought maybe
+you noticed wheth--"
+
+"I told you I did not."
+
+"All right," she said, placatively. "I didn't mean to bother you, dear."
+
+Following this there was a silence; but no sound of receding footsteps
+indicated Mrs. Baxter's departure from the other side of the closed
+door.
+
+"Well, what you WANT?" William shouted.
+
+"Nothing--nothing at all," said the compassionate voice. "I just thought
+I'd have lunch a little later than usual; not till half past one. That
+is if--well, I thought probably you meant to go to the station to see
+Miss Pratt off on the one-o'clock train."
+
+Even so friendly an interest as this must have appeared to the quivering
+William an intrusion in his affairs, for he demanded, sharply:
+
+"How'd you find out she's going at one o'clock?"
+
+"Why--why, Jane mentioned it," Mrs. Baxter replied, with obvious
+timidity. "Jane said--"
+
+She was interrupted by the loud, desperate sound of William's fist
+smiting his writing-table, so sensitive was his condition. "This is just
+unbearable!" he cried. "Nobody's business is safe from that child!"
+
+"Why, Willie, I don't see how it matters if--"
+
+He uttered a cry. "No! Nothing matters! Nothing matters at all! Do you
+s'pose I want that child, with her insults, discussing when Miss Pratt
+is or is not going away? Don't you know there are SOME things that have
+no business to be talked about by every Tom, Dick, and Harry?"
+
+"Yes, dear," she said. "I understand, of course. Jane only told me she
+met Mr. Parcher on the street, and he mentioned that Miss Pratt was
+going at one o'clock to-day. That's all I--"
+
+"You say you understand," he wailed, shaking his head drearily at the
+closed door, "and yet, even on such a day as this, you keep TALKING!
+Can't you see sometimes there's times when a person can't stand to--"
+
+"Yes, Willie," Mrs. Baxter interposed, hurriedly. "Of course! I'm going
+now. I have to go hunt up those children, anyway. You try to be back for
+lunch at half past one--and don't worry, dear; you really WILL be all
+right!"
+
+She departed, a sigh from the abyss following her as she went down the
+hall. Her comforting words meant nothing pleasant to her son, who felt
+that her optimism was out of place and tactless. He had no intention to
+be "all right," and he desired nobody to interfere with his misery.
+
+He went to his mirror, and, gazing long--long and piercingly--at the
+William there limned, enacted, almost unconsciously, a little scene of
+parting. The look of suffering upon the mirrored face slowly altered; in
+its place came one still sorrowful, but tempered with sweet indulgence.
+He stretched out his hand, as if he set it upon a head at about the
+height of his shoulder.
+
+"Yes, it may mean--it may mean forever!" he said in a low, tremulous
+voice. "Little girl, we MUST be brave!"
+
+And the while his eyes gazed into the mirror, they became expressive
+of a momentary pleased surprise, as if, even in the arts of sorrow, he
+found himself doing better than he knew. But his sorrow was none the
+less genuine because of that.
+
+Then he noticed the ink upon his forehead, and went away to wash. When
+he returned he did an unusual thing--he brushed his coat thoroughly,
+removing it for this special purpose. After that, he earnestly combed
+and brushed his hair, and retied his tie. Next, he took from a drawer
+two clean handkerchiefs. He placed one in his breast pocket, part of the
+colored border of the handkerchief being left on exhibition, and with
+the other he carefully wiped his shoes. Finally, he sawed it back and
+forth across them, and, with a sigh, languidly dropped it upon the
+floor, where it remained.
+
+Returning to the mirror, he again brushed his hair--he went so far, this
+time, as to brush his eyebrows, which seemed not much altered by the
+operation. Suddenly, he was deeply affected by something seen in the
+glass.
+
+"By George!" he exclaimed aloud.
+
+Seizing a small hand-mirror, he placed it in juxtaposition to his right
+eye, and closely studied his left profile as exhibited in the larger
+mirror. Then he examined his right profile, subjecting it to a like
+scrutiny emotional, yet attentive and prolonged.
+
+"By George!" he exclaimed, again. "By George!"
+
+He had made a discovery. There was a downy shadow upon his upper lip.
+What he had just found out was that this down could be seen projecting
+beyond the line of his lip, like a tiny nimbus. It could be seen in
+PROFILE.
+
+"By GEORGE!" William exclaimed.
+
+He was still occupied with the two mirrors when his mother again tapped
+softly upon his door, rousing him as from a dream (brief but engaging)
+to the heavy realities of that day.
+
+"What you want now?"
+
+"I won't come in," said Mrs. Baxter. "I just came to see."
+
+"See what?"
+
+"I wondered--I thought perhaps you needed something. I knew your watch
+was out of order--"
+
+"F'r 'evan's sake what if it is?"
+
+She offered a murmur of placative laughter as her apology, and said:
+"Well, I just thought I'd tell you--because if you did intend going to
+the station, I thought you probably wouldn't want to miss it and get
+there too late. I've got your hat here all nicely brushed for you. It's
+nearly twenty minutes of one, Willie."
+
+"WHAT?"
+
+"Yes, it is. It's--"
+
+She had no further speech with him.
+
+Breathless, William flung open his door, seized the hat, racketed down
+the stairs, and out through the front door, which he left open behind
+him. Eight seconds later he returned at a gallop, hurtled up the stairs
+and into his room, emerging instantly with something concealed under his
+coat. Replying incoherently to his mother's inquiries, he fell down the
+stairs as far as the landing, used the impetus thus given as a help to
+greater speed for the rest of the descent--and passed out of hearing.
+
+Mrs. Baxter sighed, and went to a window in her own room, and looked
+out.
+
+William was already more than half-way to the next corner, where there
+was a car-line that ran to the station; but the distance was not too
+great for Mrs. Baxter to comprehend the nature of the symmetrical white
+parcel now carried in his right hand. Her face became pensive as she
+gazed after the flying slender figure:--there came to her mind the
+recollection of a seventeen-year-old boy who had brought a box of candy
+(a small one, like William's) to the station, once, long ago, when she
+had been visiting in another town. For just a moment she thought of that
+boy she had known, so many years ago, and a smile came vaguely upon her
+lips. She wondered what kind of a woman he had married, and how many
+children he had--and whether he was a widower----
+
+The fleeting recollection passed; she turned from the window and shook
+her head, puzzled.
+
+"Now where on earth could Jane and that little Kirsted girl have gone?"
+she murmured.
+
+... At the station, William, descending from the street-car, found
+that he had six minutes to spare. Reassured of so much by the great
+clock in the station tower, he entered the building, and, with calm
+and dignified steps, crossed the large waiting-room. Those calm
+and dignified steps were taken by feet which little betrayed the
+tremulousness of the knees above them. Moreover, though William's
+face was red, his expression--cold, and concentrated upon high
+matters--scorned the stranger, and warned the lower classes that the
+mission of this bit of gentry was not to them.
+
+With but one sweeping and repellent glance over the canaille present,
+he made sure that the person he sought was not in the waiting-room.
+Therefore, he turned to the doors which gave admission to the tracks,
+but before he went out he paused for an instant of displeasure. Hard by
+the doors stood a telephone-booth, and from inside this booth a little
+girl of nine or ten was peering eagerly out at William, her eyes just
+above the lower level of the glass window in the door.
+
+Even a prospect thus curtailed revealed her as a smudged and dusty
+little girl; and, evidently, her mother must have been preoccupied with
+some important affair that day; but to William she suggested nothing
+familiar. As his glance happened to encounter hers, the peering
+eyes grew instantly brighter with excitement;--she exposed her whole
+countenance at the window, and impulsively made a face at him.
+
+William had not the slightest recollection of ever having seen her
+before.
+
+He gave her one stern look and went on; though he felt that something
+ought to be done. The affair was not a personal one--patently, this was
+a child who played about the station and amused herself by making faces
+at everybody who passed the telephone-booth--still, the authorities
+ought not to allow it. People did not come to the station to be
+insulted.
+
+Three seconds later the dusty-faced little girl and her moue were sped
+utterly from William's mind. For, as the doors swung together behind
+him, he saw Miss Pratt. There were no gates nor iron barriers to obscure
+the view; there was no train-shed to darken the air. She was at
+some distance, perhaps two hundred feet, along the tracks, where
+the sleeping-cars of the long train would stop. But there she stood,
+mistakable for no other on this wide earth!
+
+There she stood--a glowing little figure in the hazy September sunlight,
+her hair an amber mist under the adorable little hat; a small bunch
+of violets at her waist; a larger bunch of fragrant but less expensive
+sweet peas in her right hand; half a dozen pink roses in her left; her
+little dog Flopit in the crook of one arm; and a one-pound box of candy
+in the crook of the other--ineffable, radiant, starry, there she stood!
+
+Near her also stood her young hostess, and Wallace Banks, Johnnie
+Watson, and Joe Bullitt--three young gentlemen in a condition of
+solemn tensity. Miss Parcher saw William as he emerged from the
+station building, and she waved her parasol in greeting, attracting the
+attention of the others to him, so that they: all turned and stared.
+
+Seventeen sometimes finds it embarrassing (even in a state of deep
+emotion) to walk two hundred feet, or thereabout, toward a group of
+people who steadfastly watch the long approach. And when the watching
+group contains the lady of all the world before whom one wishes to
+appear most debonair, and contains not only her, but several rivals,
+who, though FAIRLY good-hearted, might hardly be trusted to neglect such
+an opportunity to murmur something jocular about one--No, it cannot be
+said that William appeared to be wholly without self-consciousness.
+
+In fancy he had prophesied for this moment something utterly different.
+He had seen himself parting from her, the two alone as within a cloud.
+He had seen himself gently placing his box of candy in her hands, some
+of his fingers just touching some of hers and remaining thus lightly in
+contact to the very last. He had seen himself bending toward the sweet
+blonde head to murmur the few last words of simple eloquence, while
+her eyes lifted in mysterious appeal to his--and he had put no other
+figures, not even Miss Parcher's, into this picture.
+
+Parting is the most dramatic moment in young love, and if there is one
+time when the lover wishes to present a lofty but graceful appearance it
+is at the last. To leave with the loved one, for recollection, a final
+picture of manly dignity in sorrow--that, above all things, is
+the lover's desire. And yet, even at the beginning of William's
+two-hundred-foot advance (later so much discussed) he felt the heat
+surging over his ears, and, as he took off his hat, thinking to wave it
+jauntily in reply to Miss Parcher, he made but an uncertain gesture of
+it, so that he wished he had not tried it. Moreover, he had covered less
+than a third of the distance, when he became aware that all of the
+group were staring at him with unaccountable eagerness, and had begun to
+laugh.
+
+William felt certain that his attire was in no way disordered, nor in
+itself a cause for laughter;--all of these people had often seen him
+dressed as he was to-day, and had preserved their gravity. But, in spite
+of himself, he took off his hat again, and looked to see if anything
+about it might explain this mirth, which, at his action, increased. Nay,
+the laughter began to be shared by strangers; and some set down their
+hand-luggage for greater pleasure in what they saw.
+
+William's inward state became chaotic.
+
+He tried to smile carelessly, to prove his composure, but he found that
+he had lost almost all control over his features. He had no knowledge
+of his actual expression except that it hurt him. In desperation he fell
+back upon hauteur; he managed to frown, and walked proudly. At that
+they laughed the more, Wallace Banks rudely pointing again and again at
+William; and not till the oncoming sufferer reached a spot within
+twenty feet of these delighted people did he grasp the significance of
+Wallace's repeated gesture of pointing. Even then he understood only
+when the gesture was supplemented by half-articulate shouts:
+
+"Behind you! Look BEHIND you!"
+
+The stung youth turned.
+
+There, directly behind him, he beheld an exclusive little procession
+consisting of two damsels in single file, the first soiled with
+house-moving, the second with apple sauce.
+
+For greater caution they had removed their shoes; and each damsel,
+as she paraded, dangled from each far-extended hand a shoe. And both
+damsels, whether beneath apple sauce or dust smudge, were suffused with
+the rapture of a great mockery.
+
+They were walking with their stummicks out o' joint.
+
+At sight of William's face they squealed. They turned and ran. They got
+themselves out of sight.
+
+Simultaneously, the air filled with solid thunder and the pompous train
+shook the ground. Ah, woe's the word! This was the thing that meant to
+bear away the golden girl and honeysuckle of the world--meant to, and
+would, not abating one iron second!
+
+Now a porter had her hand-bag.
+
+Dear Heaven! to be a porter--yes, a colored one! What of that, NOW? Just
+to be a simple porter, and journey with her to the far, strange pearl
+among cities whence she had come!
+
+The gentle porter bowed her toward the steps of his car; but first she
+gave Flopit into the hands of May Parcher, for a moment, and whispered
+a word to Wallace Banks; then to Joe Bullitt; then to Johnnie
+Watson;--then she ran to William.
+
+She took his hand.
+
+"Don't forget!" she whispered. "Don't forget Lola!"
+
+He stood stock-still. His face was blank, his hand limp. He said
+nothing.
+
+She enfolded May Parcher, kissed her devotedly; then, with Flopit once
+more under her arm, she ran and jumped upon the steps just as the train
+began to move. She stood there, on the lowest step, slowly gliding away
+from them, and in her eyes there was a sparkle of tears, left, it may
+be, from her laughter at poor William's pageant with Jane and Rannie
+Kirsted--or, it may be, not.
+
+She could not wave to her friends, in answer to their gestures of
+farewell, for her arms were too full of Flopit and roses and candy and
+sweet peas; but she kept nodding to them in a way that showed them how
+much she thanked them for being sorry she was going--and made it clear
+that she was sorry, too, and loved them all.
+
+"Good-by!" she meant.
+
+Faster she glided; the engine passed from sight round a curve beyond a
+culvert, but for a moment longer they could see the little figure upon
+the steps--and, to the very last glimpse they had of her, the small,
+golden head was still nodding "Good-by!" Then those steps whereon she
+stood passed in their turn beneath the culvert, and they saw her no
+more.
+
+Lola Pratt was gone!
+
+Wet-eyed, her young hostess of the long summer turned away, and stumbled
+against William. "Why, Willie Baxter!" she cried, blinking at him.
+
+The last car of the train had rounded the curve and disappeared, but
+William was still waving farewell--not with his handkerchief, but with
+a symmetrical, one-pound parcel, wrapped in white tissue-paper, girdled
+with blue ribbon.
+
+"Never mind!" said May Parcher. "Let's all walk Up-town together, and
+talk about her on the way, and we'll go by the express-office, and you
+can send your candy to her by express, Willie."
+
+
+
+
+XXX
+
+THE BRIDE-TO-BE
+
+In the smallish house which all summer long, from morning until late
+at night, had resounded with the voices of young people, echoing their
+songs, murmurous with their theories of love, or vibrating with their
+glee, sometimes shaking all over during their more boisterous moods--in
+that house, now comparatively so vacant, the proprietor stood and
+breathed deep breaths.
+
+"Hah!" he said, inhaling and exhaling the air profoundly.
+
+His wife was upon the porch, outside, sewing. The silence was deep.
+He seemed to listen to it--to listen with gusto; his face slowly
+broadening, a pinkish tint overspreading it. His flaccid cheeks appeared
+to fill, to grow firm again, a smile finally widening them.
+
+"HAH!" he breathed, sonorously. He gave himself several resounding slaps
+upon the chest, then went out to the porch and sat in a rocking-chair
+near his wife. He spread himself out expansively. "My Glory!" he said.
+"I believe I'll take off my coat! I haven't had my coat off, outside of
+my own room, all summer. I believe I'll take a vacation! By George, I
+believe I'll stay home this afternoon!"
+
+"That's nice," said Mrs. Parcher.
+
+"Hah!" he said. "My Glory! I believe I'll take off my shoes!"
+
+And, meeting no objection, he proceeded to carry out this plan.
+
+"Hah-AH!" he said, and placed his stockinged feet upon the railing,
+where a number of vines, running upon strings, made a screen between the
+porch and the street. He lit a large cigar. "Well, well!" he said. "That
+tastes good! If this keeps on, I'll be in as good shape as I was last
+spring before you know it!" Leaning far back in the rocking-chair, his
+hands behind his head, he smoked with fervor; but suddenly he jumped in
+a way which showed that his nerves were far from normal. His feet came
+to the floor with a thump, he jerked the cigar out of his mouth, and
+turned a face of consternation upon his wife.
+
+"What's the matter?"
+
+"Suppose," said Mr. Patcher, huskily--"suppose she missed her train."
+
+Mrs. Parcher shook her head.
+
+"Think not?" he said, brightening. "I ordered the livery-stable to have
+a carriage here in lots of time."
+
+"They did," said Mrs. Parcher, severely. "About five dollars' worth."
+
+"Well, I don't mind that," he returned, putting his feet up again.
+"After all, she was a mighty fine little girl in her way. The only
+trouble with me was that crowd of boys;--having to listen to them
+certainly liked to killed me, and I believe if she'd stayed just one
+more day I'd been a goner! Of all the dam boys I ever--" He paused,
+listening.
+
+"Mr. Parcher!" a youthful voice repeated.
+
+He rose, and, separating two of the vines which screened the end of the
+porch from the street, looked out. Two small maidens had paused upon the
+sidewalk, and were peering over the picket fence.
+
+"Mr. Parcher," said Jane, as soon as his head appeared between the
+vines--"Mr. Parcher, Miss Pratt's gone. She's gone away on the cars."
+
+"You think so?" he asked, gravely.
+
+"We saw her," said Jane. "Rannie an' I were there. Willie was goin' to
+chase us, I guess, but we went in the baggage-room behind trunks, an'
+we saw her go. She got on the cars, an' it went with her in it. Honest,
+she's gone away, Mr. Parcher."
+
+Before speaking, Mr. Parcher took a long look at this telepathic child.
+In his fond eyes she was a marvel and a darling.
+
+"Well--THANK you, Jane!" he said.
+
+Jane, however, had turned her head and was staring at the corner, which
+was out of his sight.
+
+"Oo-oo-ooh!" she murmured.
+
+"What's the trouble, Jane?"
+
+"Willie!" she said. "It's Willie an' that Joe Bullitt, an' Johnnie
+Watson, an' Mr. Wallace Banks. They're with Miss May Parcher. They're
+comin' right here!"
+
+Mr. Parcher gave forth a low moan, and turned pathetically to his wife,
+but she cheered him with a laugh.
+
+"They've only walked up from the station with May," she said. "They
+won't come in. You'll see!"
+
+Relieved, Mr. Parcher turned again to speak to Jane--but she was not
+there. He caught but a glimpse of her, running up the street as fast as
+she could, hand in hand with her companion.
+
+"Run, Rannie, run!" panted Jane. "I got to get home an' tell mamma about
+it before Willie. I bet I ketch Hail Columbia, anyway, when he does get
+there!"
+
+And in this she was not mistaken: she caught Hail Columbia. It lasted
+all afternoon.
+
+It was still continuing after dinner. Thatt evening, when an
+oft-repeated yodel, followed by a shrill-wailed, "Jane-ee! Oh,
+Jane-NEE-ee!" brought her to an open window down-stairs. In the early
+dusk she looked out upon the washed face of Rannie Kirsted, who stood on
+the lawn below.
+
+"Come on out, Janie. Mamma says I can stay outdoors an' play till half
+past eight."
+
+Jane shook her head. "I can't. I can't go outside the house till
+to-morrow. It's because we walked after Willie with our stummicks out o'
+joint."
+
+"Pshaw!" Rannie cried, lightly. "My mother didn't do anything to me for
+that."
+
+"Well, nobody told her on you," said Jane, reasonably.
+
+"Can't you come out at all?" Rannie urged. "Go ask your mother. Tell
+her--"
+
+"How can I," Jane inquired, with a little heat, "when she isn't here to
+ask? She's gone out to play cards--she and papa."
+
+Rannie swung her foot. "Well," she said, "I guess I haf to find SOMEp'n
+to do! G' night!"
+
+With head bowed in thought she moved away, disappearing into the gray
+dusk, while Jane, on her part, left the window and went to the open
+front door. Conscientiously, she did not cross the threshold, but
+restrained herself to looking out. On the steps of the porch sat
+William, alone, his back toward the house.
+
+"Willie?" said Jane, softly; and, as he made no response, she lifted her
+voice a little. "Will-ee!"
+
+"Whatchwant!" he grunted, not moving.
+
+"Willie, I told mamma I was sorry I made you feel so bad."
+
+"All right!" he returned, curtly.
+
+"Well, when I haf to go to bed, Willie," she said, "mamma told me
+because I made you feel bad I haf to go up-stairs by myself, to-night."
+
+She paused, seeming to hope that he would say something, but he spake
+not.
+
+"Willie, I don't haf to go for a while yet, but when I do--maybe in
+about a half an hour--I wish you'd come stand at the foot of the stairs
+till I get up there. The light's lit up-stairs, but down around here
+it's kind of dark."
+
+He did not answer.
+
+"Will you, Willie?"
+
+"Oh, all RIGHT!" he said.
+
+This contented her, and she seated herself so quietly upon the floor,
+just inside the door, that he ceased to be aware of her, thinking she
+had gone away. He sat staring vacantly into the darkness, which had come
+on with that abruptness which begins to be noticeable in September.
+His elbows were on his knees, and his body was sunk far forward in an
+attitude of desolation.
+
+The small noises of the town--that town so empty to-night--fell upon his
+ears mockingly. It seemed to him incredible that so hollow a town could
+go about its nightly affairs just as usual. A man and a woman, going
+by, laughed loudly at something the man had said: the sound of their
+laughter was horrid to William. And from a great distance from far out
+in the country--there came the faint, long-drawn whistle of an engine.
+
+That was the sorrowfulest sound of all to William. His lonely mind's
+eye sought the vasty spaces to the east; crossed prairie, and river, and
+hill, to where a long train whizzed onward through the dark--farther
+and farther and farther away. William uttered a sigh, so hoarse, so deep
+from the tombs, so prolonged, that Jane, who had been relaxing herself
+at full length upon the floor, sat up straight with a jerk.
+
+But she was wise enough not to speak.
+
+Now the full moon came masquerading among the branches of the
+shade-trees; it came in the likeness of an enormous football, gloriously
+orange. Gorgeously it rose higher, cleared the trees, and resumed its
+wonted impersonation of a silver disk. Here was another mockery: What
+was the use of a moon NOW?
+
+Its use appeared straightway.
+
+In direct coincidence with that rising moon, there came from a little
+distance down the street the sound of a young male voice, singing.
+It was not a musical voice, yet sufficiently loud; and it knew only a
+portion of the words and air it sought to render, but, upon completing
+the portion it did know, it instantly began again, and sang that portion
+over and over with brightest patience. So the voice approached the
+residence of the Baxter family, singing what the shades of night gave
+courage to sing--instead of whistle, as in the abashing sunlight.
+
+Thus:
+
+"My countree, 'tis of thee, Sweet land of liber-tee, My countree, 'tis
+of thee, Sweet land of liber-tee, My countree, 'tis of thee, Sweet land
+of liber-tee, My countree, 'tis of thee, Sweet land of liber-tee, My
+countree, 'tis--"
+
+
+Jane spoke unconsciously. "It's Freddie," she said.
+
+William leaped to his feet; this was something he could NOT bear! He
+made a bloodthirsty dash toward the gate, which the singer was just in
+the act of passing.
+
+"You GET OUT O' HERE!" William roared.
+
+The song stopped. Freddie Banks fled like a rag on the wind.
+
+
+... Now here is a strange matter.
+
+The antique prophets prophesied successfully; they practised with some
+ease that art since lost but partly rediscovered by M. Maeterlinck, who
+proves to us that the future already exists, simultaneously with the
+present. Well, if his proofs be true, then at this very moment when
+William thought menacingly of Freddie Banks, the bright air of a happy
+June evening--an evening ordinarily reckoned ten years, nine months and
+twenty-one days in advance of this present sorrowful evening--the bright
+air of that happy June evening, so far in the future, was actually
+already trembling to a wedding-march played upon a church organ; and
+this selfsame Freddie, with a white flower in his buttonhole, and in
+every detail accoutred as a wedding usher, was an usher for this very
+William who now (as we ordinarily count time) threatened his person.
+
+But for more miracles:
+
+As William turned again to resume his meditations upon the steps, his
+incredulous eyes fell upon a performance amazingly beyond fantasy, and
+without parallel as a means to make scorn of him. Not ten feet from the
+porch--and in the white moonlight that made brilliant the path to the
+gate--Miss Mary Randolph Kirsted was walking. She was walking with
+insulting pomposity in her most pronounced semicircular manner.
+
+"YOU GET OUT O' HERE!" she said, in a voice as deep and hoarse as she
+could make it. "YOU GET OUT O' HERE!"
+
+Her intention was as plain as the moon. She was presenting in her own
+person a sketch of William, by this means expressing her opinion of him
+and avenging Jane.
+
+"YOU GET OUT O' HERE!" she croaked.
+
+The shocking audacity took William's breath. He gasped; he sought for
+words.
+
+"Why, you--you--" he cried. "You--you sooty-faced little girl!"
+
+In this fashion he directly addressed Miss Mary Randolph Kirsted for the
+first time in his life.
+
+And that was the strangest thing of this strange evening. Strangest
+because, as with life itself, there was nothing remarkable upon the
+surface of it. But if M. Maeterlinck has the right of the matter, and
+if the bright air of that June evening, almost eleven years in the
+so-called future, was indeed already trembling to "Lohengrin," then
+William stood with Johnnie Watson against a great bank of flowers at the
+foot of a church aisle; that aisle was roped with white-satin ribbons;
+and William and Johnnie were waiting for something important to happen.
+And then, to the strains of "Here Comes the Bride," it did--a stately,
+solemn, roseate, gentle young thing with bright eyes seeking through a
+veil for William's eyes.
+
+Yes, if great M. Maeterlinck is right, it seems that William ought to
+have caught at least some eerie echo of that wedding-march, however
+faint--some bars or strains adrift before their time upon the moonlight
+of this September night in his eighteenth year.
+
+For there, beyond the possibility of any fate to intervene, or of any
+later vague, fragmentary memory of even Miss Pratt to impair, there in
+that moonlight was his future before him.
+
+He started forward furiously. "You--you--you little--"
+
+But he paused, not wasting his breath upon the empty air.
+
+His bride-to-be was gone.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Seventeen, by Booth Tarkington
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+*The Project Gutenberg Etext of Seventeen, by Booth Tarkington*
+#7 in our series by Booth Tarkington
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+Seventeen
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+by Booth Tarkington
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+January, 1999  [Etext #1611
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+
+
+SEVENTEEN
+A TALE OF YOUTH AND
+SUMMER TIME AND
+THE BAXTER FAMILY
+ESPECIALLY WILLIAM
+
+
+by BOOTH TARKINGTON
+
+
+
+
+SEVENTEEN
+
+
+
+
+TO
+S.K.T.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+I.      WILLIAM
+II.     THE UNKNOWN
+III.    THE PAINFUL AGE
+IV.     GENESIS AND CLEMATIS
+V.      SORROWS WITHIN A BOILER
+VI.     TRUCULENCE
+VII.    MR. BAXTER'S EVENING CLOTHES
+VIII.   JANE
+IX.     LITTLE SISTERS HAVE BIG EARS
+X.      MR. PARCHER AND LOVE
+XI.     BEGINNING A TRUE FRIENDSHIP
+XII.    PROGRESS OF THE SYMPTOMS
+XIII.   AT HOME TO HIS FRIENDS
+XIV.    TIME DOES FLY
+XV.     ROMANCE OF STATISTICS
+XVI.    THE SHOWER 
+XVII.   JANE'S THEORY
+XVIII.  THE BIG, FAT LUMMOX
+XIX.    ``I DUNNO WHY IT IS''
+XX.     SYDNEY CARTON
+XXI.    MY LITTLE SWEETHEARTS
+XXII.   FORESHADOWINGS
+XXIII.  FATHERS FORGET
+XXIV.   CLOTHES MAKE THE MAN
+XXV.    YOUTH AND MR. PARCHER
+XXVI.   MISS BOKE
+XXVII.  MAROONED
+XXVIII. RANNIE KIRSTED
+XXIX.   ``DON'T FORGET!''
+XXX.     THE BRIDE-TO-BE
+
+
+
+
+SEVENTEEN
+
+I
+
+WILLIAM
+
+William Sylvanus Baxter paused
+for a moment of thought in front of the
+drug-store at the corner of Washington Street
+and Central Avenue.  He had an internal question
+to settle before he entered the store: he
+wished to allow the young man at the soda-
+fountain no excuse for saying, ``Well, make up
+your mind what it's goin' to be, can't you?'' 
+Rudeness of this kind, especially in the presence
+of girls and women, was hard to bear, and though
+William Sylvanus Baxter had borne it upon
+occasion, he had reached an age when he found
+it intolerable.  Therefore, to avoid offering
+opportunity for anything of the kind, he decided
+upon chocolate and strawberry, mixed, before
+approaching the fountain.  Once there, however,
+and a large glass of these flavors and diluted
+ice-cream proving merely provocative, he said,
+languidly--an affectation, for he could have
+disposed of half a dozen with gusto:  ``Well, now
+I'm here, I might as well go one more.  Fill 'er
+up again.  Same.''
+
+Emerging to the street, penniless, he bent a
+fascinated and dramatic gaze upon his reflection
+in the drug-store window, and then, as he turned
+his back upon the alluring image, his expression
+altered to one of lofty and uncondescending
+amusement.  That was his glance at the passing
+public.  From the heights, he seemed to bestow
+upon the world a mysterious derision--for William
+Sylvanus Baxter was seventeen long years
+of age, and had learned to present the appearance
+of one who possesses inside information about life
+and knows all strangers and most acquaintances
+to be of inferior caste, costume, and intelligence.
+
+He lingered upon the corner awhile, not pressed
+for time.  Indeed, he found many hours of these
+summer months heavy upon his hands, for he had
+no important occupation, unless some intermittent
+dalliance with a work on geometry (anticipatory
+of the distant autumn) might be thought
+important, which is doubtful, since he usually
+went to sleep on the shady side porch at his
+home, with the book in his hand.  So, having
+nothing to call him elsewhere, he lounged before
+the drug-store in the early afternoon sunshine,
+watching the passing to and fro of the lower
+orders and bourgeoisie of the middle-sized mid-
+land city which claimed him (so to speak) for a
+native son.
+
+Apparently quite unembarrassed by his presence,
+they went about their business, and the only
+people who looked at him with any attention
+were pedestrians of color.  It is true that when
+the gaze of these fell upon him it was instantly
+arrested, for no colored person could have passed
+him without a little pang of pleasure and of
+longing.  Indeed, the tropical violence of William
+Sylvanus Baxter's tie and the strange brilliancy
+of his hat might have made it positively unsafe
+for him to walk at night through the negro
+quarter of the town.  And though no man could
+have sworn to the color of that hat, whether it
+was blue or green, yet its color was a saner thing
+than its shape, which was blurred, tortured, and
+raffish; it might have been the miniature model
+of a volcano that had blown off its cone and
+misbehaved disastrously on its lower slopes as well. 
+He had the air of wearing it as a matter of course
+and with careless ease, but that was only an air--
+it was the apple of his eye.
+
+For the rest, his costume was neutral, subordinate,
+and even a little neglected in the matter of a
+detail or two: one pointed flap of his soft collar
+was held down by a button, but the other showed
+a frayed thread where the button once had been;
+his low patent-leather shoes were of a luster not
+solicitously cherished, and there could be no
+doubt that he needed to get his hair cut, while
+something might have been done, too, about
+the individualized hirsute prophecies which had
+made independent appearances, here and there,
+upon his chin.  He examined these from time
+to time by the sense of touch, passing his hand
+across his face and allowing his finger-tips a
+slight tapping motion wherever they detected a
+prophecy.
+
+Thus he fell into a pleasant musing and seemed
+to forget the crowded street.
+
+
+
+II
+
+THE UNKNOWN
+
+He was roused by the bluff greeting of an
+acquaintance not dissimilar to himself in
+age, manner, and apparel.
+
+``H'lo, Silly Bill!'' said this person,
+William Sylvanus Baxter.  ``What's the news?''
+
+William showed no enthusiasm; on the
+contrary, a frown of annoyance appeared upon his
+brow.  The nickname ``Silly Bill''--long ago
+compounded by merry child-comrades from
+``William'' and ``Sylvanus''--was not to his
+taste, especially in public, where he preferred to
+be addressed simply and manfully as ``Baxter.'' 
+Any direct expression of resentment, however,
+was difficult, since it was plain that Johnnie
+Watson intended no offense whatever and but
+spoke out of custom.
+
+``Don't know any,'' William replied, coldly.
+
+``Dull times, ain't it?'' said Mr. Watson, a little
+depressed by his friend's manner.  ``I heard May
+Parcher was comin' back to town yesterday,
+though.''
+
+``Well, let her!'' returned William, still severe.
+
+``They said she was goin' to bring a girl to
+visit her,'' Johnnie began in a confidential tone. 
+``They said she was a reg'lar ringdinger and--''
+
+``Well, what if she is?'' the discouraging Mr.
+Baxter interrupted.  ``Makes little difference to
+ME, I guess!''
+
+``Oh no, it don't.  YOU don't take any interest
+in girls!  OH no!''
+
+``No, I do not!'' was the emphatic and heartless
+retort.  ``I never saw one in my life I'd care
+whether she lived or died!''
+
+``Honest?'' asked Johnnie, struck by the
+conviction with which this speech was uttered. 
+``Honest, is that so?''
+
+``Yes, `honest'!'' William replied, sharply. 
+``They could ALL die, _I_ wouldn't notice!''
+
+Johnnie Watson was profoundly impressed. 
+``Why, _I_ didn't know you felt that way about
+'em, Silly Bill.  I always thought you were kind
+of--''
+
+``Well, I do feel that way about 'em!'' said
+William Sylvanus Baxter, and, outraged by the
+repetition of the offensive nickname, he began
+to move away.  ``You can tell 'em so for me, if
+you want to!'' he added over his shoulder.  And
+he walked haughtily up the street, leaving Mr.
+Watson to ponder upon this case of misogyny,
+never until that moment suspected.
+
+It was beyond the power of his mind to grasp
+the fact that William Sylvanus Baxter's cruel
+words about ``girls'' had been uttered because
+William was annoyed at being called ``Silly Bill''
+in a public place, and had not known how to
+object otherwise than by showing contempt for
+any topic of conversation proposed by the
+offender.  This latter, being of a disposition to
+accept statements as facts, was warmly interested,
+instead of being hurt, and decided that here
+was something worth talking about, especially
+with representatives of the class so sweepingly
+excluded from the sympathies of Silly Bill.
+
+William, meanwhile, made his way toward the
+``residence section'' of the town, and presently
+--with the passage of time found himself
+eased of his annoyance.  He walked in
+his own manner, using his shoulders to
+emphasize an effect of carelessness which he wished
+to produce upon observers.  For his consciousness
+of observers was abnormal, since he had
+it whether any one was looking at him or not,
+and it reached a crucial stage whenever he
+perceived persons of his own age, but of opposite
+sex, approaching.
+
+A person of this description was encountered
+upon the sidewalk within a hundred yards of his
+own home, and William Sylvanus Baxter saw her
+while yet she was afar off.  The quiet and shady
+thoroughfare was empty of all human life, at the
+time, save for those two; and she was upon the
+same side of the street that he was; thus it became
+inevitable that they should meet, face to face, for
+the first time in their lives.  He had perceived,
+even in the distance, that she was unknown to
+him, a stranger, because he knew all the girls in
+this part of the town who dressed as famously in
+the mode as that!  And then, as the distance
+between them lessened, he saw that she was
+ravishingly pretty; far, far prettier, indeed,
+than any girl he knew.  At least it seemed so,
+for it is, unfortunately, much easier for strangers
+to be beautiful.  Aside from this advantage of
+mystery, the approaching vision was piquant
+and graceful enough to have reminded a much
+older boy of a spotless white kitten, for, in spite
+of a charmingly managed demureness, there was
+precisely that kind of playfulness somewhere
+expressed about her.  Just now it was most
+definite in the look she bent upon the light and
+fluffy burden which she carried nestled in the
+inner curve of her right arm: a tiny dog with
+hair like cotton and a pink ribbon round his
+neck--an animal sated with indulgence and
+idiotically unaware of his privilege.  He was
+half asleep!
+
+William did not see the dog, or it is the plain,
+anatomical truth that when he saw how pretty
+the girl was, his heart--his physical heart--
+began to do things the like of which, experienced
+by an elderly person, would have brought the
+doctor in haste.  In addition, his complexion
+altered--he broke out in fiery patches.  He
+suffered from breathlessness and from pressure on
+the diaphragm.
+
+Afterward, he could not have named the color
+of the little parasol she carried in her left hand,
+and yet, as it drew nearer and nearer, a rosy haze
+suffused the neighborhood, and the whole world
+began to turn an exquisite pink.  Beneath this
+gentle glow, with eyes downcast in thought, she
+apparently took no note of William, even when
+she and William had come within a few yards of
+each other.  Yet he knew that she would look
+up and that their eyes must meet--a thing for
+which he endeavored to prepare himself by a
+strange weaving motion of his neck against the
+friction of his collar--for thus, instinctively, he
+strove to obtain greater ease and some decent
+appearance of manly indifference.  He felt that
+his efforts were a failure; that his agitation was
+ruinous and must be perceptible at a distance of
+miles, not feet.  And then, in the instant of
+panic that befell, when her dark-lashed eyelids
+slowly lifted, he had a flash of inspiration.
+
+He opened his mouth somewhat, and as her
+eyes met his, full and startlingly, he placed three
+fingers across the orifice, and also offered a slight
+vocal proof that she had surprised him in the
+midst of a yawn.
+
+``Oh, hum!'' he said.
+
+For the fraction of a second, the deep blue spark
+in her eyes glowed brighter--gentle arrows of
+turquoise shot him through and through--and
+then her glance withdrew from the ineffable
+collision.  Her small, white-shod feet continued
+to bear her onward, away from him, while his
+own dimmed shoes peregrinated in the opposite
+direction--William necessarily, yet with
+excruciating reluctance, accompanying them.  But
+just at the moment when he and the lovely
+creature were side by side, and her head turned
+from him, she spoke that is, she murmured, but
+he caught the words.
+
+``You Flopit, wake up!'' she said, in the tone of
+a mother talking baby-talk.  ``SO indifferink!''
+
+William's feet and his breath halted spasmodically. 
+For an instant he thought she had spoken
+to him, and then for the first time he perceived
+the fluffy head of the dog bobbing languidly
+over her arm, with the motion of her walking,
+and he comprehended that Flopit, and not
+William Sylvanus Baxter, was the gentleman
+addressed.  But--but had she MEANT him?
+
+His breath returning, though not yet operating
+in its usual manner, he stood gazing after her,
+
+while the glamorous parasol passed down the
+shady street, catching splashes of sunshine
+through the branches of the maple-trees; and
+the cottony head of the tiny dog continued to be
+visible, bobbing rhythmically over a filmy sleeve. 
+Had she meant that William was indifferent? 
+Was it William that she really addressed?
+
+He took two steps to follow her, but a suffocating
+shyness stopped him abruptly and, in a
+horror lest she should glance round and detect
+him in the act, he turned and strode fiercely to
+the gate of his own home before he dared to look
+again.  And when he did look, affecting great
+casualness in the action, she was gone, evidently
+having turned the corner.  Yet the street did
+not seem quite empty; there was still something
+warm and fragrant about it, and a rosy glamor
+lingered in the air.  William rested an elbow
+upon the gate-post, and with his chin reposing in
+his hand gazed long in the direction in which the
+unknown had vanished.  And his soul was tremulous,
+for she had done her work but too well.
+
+`` `Indifferink'!'' he murmured, thrilling at his
+own exceedingly indifferent imitation of her
+voice.  ``Indifferink!'' that was just what he
+would have her think--that he was a cold,
+indifferent man.  It was what he wished all girls
+to think.  And ``sarcastic''!  He had been envious
+one day when May Parcher said that Joe
+Bullitt was ``awfully sarcastic.''  William had
+spent the ensuing hour in an object-lesson
+intended to make Miss Parcher see that William
+Sylvanus Baxter was twice as sarcastic as Joe
+Bullitt ever thought of being, but this great
+effort had been unsuccessful, because William,
+failed to understand that Miss Parcher had only
+been sending a sort of message to Mr. Bullitt. 
+It was a device not unique among her sex; her
+hope was that William would repeat her remark
+in such a manner that Joe Bullitt would hear it
+and call to inquire what she meant.
+
+`` `SO indifferink'!'' murmured William,
+leaning dreamily upon the gate-post.  ``Indifferink!'' 
+He tried to get the exact cooing quality of the
+unknown's voice.  ``Indifferink!''  And, repeating
+the honeyed word, so entrancingly distorted, he
+fell into a kind of stupor; vague, beautiful
+pictures rising before him, the one least blurred being
+of himself, on horseback, sweeping between
+Flopit and a racing automobile.  And then,
+having restored the little animal to its mistress,
+William sat carelessly in the saddle (he had the
+Guardsman's seat) while the perfectly trained
+steed wheeled about, forelegs in the air, preparing
+to go.  ``But shall I not see you again, to thank
+you more properly?'' she cried, pleading.  ``Some
+other day--perhaps,'' he answered.
+
+And left her in a cloud of dust.
+
+
+
+III
+
+THE PAINFUL AGE
+
+``OH WILL--EE!''
+
+Thus a shrill voice, to his ears hideously
+different from that other, interrupted and dispersed
+his visions.  Little Jane, his ten-year-
+old sister, stood upon the front porch, the door
+open behind her, and in her hand she held a large
+slab of bread-and-butter covered with apple
+sauce and powdered sugar.  Evidence that she
+had sampled this compound was upon her cheeks,
+and to her brother she was a repulsive sight;.
+
+``Will-ee!'' she shrilled.  ``Look!  GOOD!'' 
+And to emphasize the adjective she indelicately
+patted the region of her body in which she
+believed her stomach to be located.  ``There's a
+slice for you on the dining-room table,'' she
+informed him, joyously.
+
+Outraged, he entered the house without a word
+to her, and, proceeding to the dining-room, laid
+hands upon the slice she had mentioned, but
+declined to eat it in Jane's company.  He was in
+an exalted mood, and though in no condition
+of mind or body would he refuse food of almost
+any kind, Jane was an intrusion he could not
+suffer at this time.
+
+He carried the refection to his own room and,
+locking the door, sat down to eat, while, even as he
+ate, the spell that was upon him deepened in intensity.
+
+``Oh, eyes!'' he whispered, softly, in that cool
+privacy and shelter from the world.  ``Oh, eyes
+of blue!''
+
+The mirror of a dressing-table sent him the
+reflection of his own eyes, which also were blue;
+and he gazed upon them and upon the rest of his
+image the while he ate his bread-and-butter and
+apple sauce and sugar.  Thus, watching himself
+eat, he continued to stare dreamily at the mirror
+until the bread-and-butter and apple sauce and
+sugar had disappeared, whereupon he rose and
+approached the dressing-table to study himself
+at greater advantage.
+
+He assumed as repulsive an expression as he
+could command, at the same time making the
+kingly gesture of one who repels unwelcome
+attentions; and it is beyond doubt that he was thus
+acting a little scene of indifference.  Other symbolic
+dramas followed, though an invisible observer
+might have been puzzled for a key to some
+of them.  One, however, would have proved
+easily intelligible: his expression having altered
+to a look of pity and contrition, he turned
+from the mirror, and, walking slowly to a
+chair across the room, used his right hand in
+a peculiar manner, seeming to stroke the air
+at a point about ten inches above the back
+of the chair.  ``There, there, little girl,'' he
+said in a low, gentle voice.  ``I didn't know you
+cared!''
+
+Then, with a rather abrupt dismissal of this
+theme, he returned to the mirror and, after a
+questioning scrutiny, nodded solemnly, forming
+with his lips the words, ``The real thing--the real
+thing at last!''  He meant that, after many
+imitations had imposed upon him, Love--the real
+thing--had come to him in the end.  And as he
+turned away he murmured, ``And even her name
+--unknown!''
+
+This evidently was a thought that continued to
+occupy him, for he walked up and down the room,
+frowning; but suddenly his brow cleared and his
+eye lit with purpose.  Seating himself at a small
+writing-table by the window, he proceeded to
+express his personality--though with considerable
+labor--in something which he did not doubt to be
+a poem.
+
+Three-quarters of an hour having sufficed for
+its completion, including ``rewriting and polish,''
+he solemnly signed it, and then read it several
+times in a state of hushed astonishment.  He had
+never dreamed that he could do anything like
+this.
+
+               MILADY
+     I do not know her name
+     Though it would be the same
+     Where roses bloom at twilight
+     And the lark takes his flight
+     It would be the same anywhere
+     Where music sounds in air
+     I was never introduced to the lady
+     So I could not call her Lass or Sadie
+     So I will call her Milady
+     By the sands of the sea
+     She always will be
+     Just M'lady to me.
+                    --WILLIAM SYLVANUS BAXTER, Esq., July 14
+
+
+It is impossible to say how many times he
+might have read the poem over, always with
+increasing amazement at his new-found powers,
+had he not been interrupted by the odious voice
+of Jane.
+
+``Will--ee!''
+
+To William, in his high and lonely mood, this
+piercing summons brought an actual shudder, and
+the very thought of Jane (with tokens of apple
+sauce and sugar still upon her cheek, probably)
+seemed a kind of sacrilege.  He fiercely swore his
+favorite oath, acquired from the hero of a work of
+fiction he admired, ``Ye gods!'' and concealed his
+poem in the drawer of the writing-table, for Jane's
+footsteps were approaching his door.
+
+``Will--ee!  Mamma wants you.''  She tried
+the handle of the door.
+
+``G'way!'' he said.
+
+``Will--ee!''  Jane hammered upon the door
+with her fist.  ``Will--ee!''
+
+``What you want?'' he shouted.
+
+Jane explained, certain pauses indicating that
+her attention was partially diverted to another
+slice of bread-and-butter and apple sauce and
+sugar.  ``Will--ee, mamma wants you--wants
+you to go help Genesis bring some wash-tubs
+home and a tin clo'es-boiler--from the second-
+hand man's store.''
+
+``WHAT!''
+
+Jane repeated the outrageous message,
+adding, ``She wants you to hurry--and I got some
+more bread-and-butter and apple sauce and
+sugar for comin' to tell you.''
+
+William left no doubt in Jane's mind about
+his attitude in reference to the whole matter. 
+His refusal was direct and infuriated, but, in the
+midst of a multitude of plain statements which he
+was making, there was a decisive tapping upon
+the door at a point higher than Jane could reach,
+and his mother's voice interrupted:
+
+``Hush, Willie!  Open the door, please.''
+
+He obeyed furiously, and Mrs. Baxter walked
+in with a deprecating air, while Jane followed, so
+profoundly interested that, until almost the close
+of the interview, she held her bread-and-butter
+and apple sauce and sugar at a sort of way-
+station on its journey to her mouth.
+
+``That's a nice thing to ask me to do!'' stormed
+the unfortunate William.  ``Ye gods!  Do you
+think Joe Bullitt's mother would dare to--''
+
+``Wait, dearie!'' Mrs. Baxter begged, pacifically. 
+``I just want to explain--''
+
+`` `Explain'!  Ye gods!''
+
+``Now, now, just a minute, Willie!'' she said. 
+``What I wanted to explain was why it's necessary
+for you to go with Genesis for the--''
+
+``Never!'' he shouted.  ``Never!  You expect
+me to walk through the public streets with that
+awful-lookin' old nigger--''
+
+``Genesis isn't old,'' she managed to interpolate. 
+``He--''
+
+But her frantic son disregarded her.  ``Second-
+hand wash-tubs!'' he vociferated.  ``And tin
+clothes-boilers!  THAT'S what you want your SON
+to carry through the public streets in broad daylight! 
+Ye gods!''
+
+``Well, there isn't anybody else,'' she said. 
+``Please don't rave so, Willie, and say `Ye gods'
+so much; it really isn't nice.  I'm sure nobody 'll
+notice you--''
+
+`` `Nobody'!''  His voice cracked in anguish. 
+``Oh no!  Nobody except the whole town!  WHY,
+when there's anything disgusting has to be done
+
+in this family--why do _I_ always have to be the
+one?  Why can't Genesis bring the second-hand
+wash-tubs without ME?  Why can't the second-
+hand store deliver 'em?  Why can't--''
+
+``That's what I want to tell you,'' she
+interposed, hurriedly, and as the youth lifted his
+arms on high in a gesture of ultimate despair,
+and then threw himself miserably into a chair, she
+obtained the floor.  ``The second-hand store
+doesn't deliver things,'' she said.  ``I bought
+them at an auction, and it's going out of business,
+and they have to be taken away before half past
+four this afternoon.  Genesis can't bring them
+in the wheelbarrow, because, he says, the wheel is
+broken, and he says he can't possibly carry two
+tubs and a wash-boiler himself; and he can't
+make two trips because it's a mile and a half,
+and I don't like to ask him, anyway; and it
+would take too long, because he has to get back
+and finish cutting the grass before your papa
+gets home this evening.  Papa said he HAD to! 
+Now, I don't like to ask you, but it really isn't
+much.  You and Genesis can just slip up there
+and--''
+
+``Slip!'' moaned William.  `` `Just SLIP up there''! 
+Ye gods!''
+
+``Genesis is waiting on the back porch,'' she
+said.  ``Really it isn't worth your making all this
+fuss about.''
+
+``Oh no!'' he returned, with plaintive satire. 
+``It's nothing!  Nothing at all!''
+
+``Why, _I_ shouldn't mind it,'' she said; briskly,
+``if I had the time.  In fact, I'll have to, if you
+won't.''
+
+``Ye gods!''  He clasped his head in his hands,
+crushed, for he knew that the curse was upon him
+and he must go.  ``Ye gods!''
+
+And then, as he stamped to the door, his tragic
+eye fell upon Jane, and he emitted a final cry of
+pain:
+
+``Can't you EVER wash your face?'' he shouted;
+
+
+
+IV
+
+GENESIS AND CLEMATIS
+
+Genesis and his dog were waiting just outside
+the kitchen door, and of all the world
+these two creatures were probably the last in
+whose company William Sylvanus Baxter desired
+to make a public appearance.  Genesis was an
+out-of-doors man and seldom made much of a
+toilet; his overalls in particular betraying at
+important points a lack of the anxiety he should
+have felt, since only Genesis himself, instead of a
+supplementary fabric, was directly underneath
+them.  And the aged, grayish, sleeveless and
+neckless garment which sheltered him from waist
+to collar-bone could not have been mistaken for a
+jersey, even though what there was of it was
+dimly of a jerseyesque character.  Upon the feet
+of Genesis were things which careful study would
+have revealed to be patent-leather dancing-
+pumps, long dead and several times buried; and
+upon his head, pressing down his markedly criminal
+ears, was a once-derby hat of a brown not
+far from Genesis's own color, though decidedly
+without his gloss.  A large ring of strange metals
+with the stone missing, adorned a finger of his
+right hand, and from a corner of his mouth
+projected an unlighted and spreading cigar stub
+which had the appearance of belonging to its
+present owner merely by right of salvage.
+
+And Genesis's dog, scratching himself at his
+master's feet, was the true complement of Genesis,
+for although he was a youngish dog, and had
+not long been the property of Genesis, he was a
+dog that would have been recognized anywhere
+in the world as a colored person's dog.  He was
+not a special breed of dog--though there was
+something rather houndlike about him--he was
+just a dog.  His expression was grateful but
+anxious, and he was unusually bald upon the bosom,
+but otherwise whitish and brownish, with a gaunt,
+haunting face and no power to look anybody in
+the eye.
+
+He rose apprehensively as the fuming William
+came out of the kitchen, but he was prepared to
+follow his master faithfully, and when William
+and Genesis reached the street the dog was
+discovered at their heels, whereupon William came
+to a decisive halt.
+
+``Send that dog back,'' he said, resolutely. 
+``I'm not going through the streets with a dog
+like that, anyhow!''
+
+Genesis chuckled.  ``He ain' goin' back,'' he
+said.  `` 'Ain' nobody kin make 'at dog go back.  I
+'ain' had him mo'n two weeks, but I don' b'lieve
+Pres'dent United States kin make 'at dog go
+back!  I show you.''  And, wheeling suddenly,
+he made ferocious gestures, shouting.  ``G'on back,
+dog!''
+
+The dog turned, ran back a few paces, halted,
+and then began to follow again, whereupon Genesis
+pretended to hurl stones at him; but the
+animal only repeated his manoeuver--and he
+repeated it once more when William aided Genesis
+by using actual missiles, which were dodged with
+almost careless adeptness.
+
+``I'll show him!'' said William, hotly.  ``I'll
+show him he can't follow ME!''  He charged upon
+the dog, shouting fiercely, and this seemed to do
+the work, for the hunted animal, abandoning his
+partial flights, turned a tucked-under tail, ran all
+the way back to the alley, and disappeared from
+sight.  ``There!'' said William.  ``I guess that 'll
+show him!''
+
+``I ain' bettin' on it!'' said Genesis, as they
+went on.  ``He nev' did stop foll'in' me yet.  I
+reckon he the foll'indest dog in the worl'!  Name
+Clem.''
+
+``Well, he can't follow ME!'' said the surging
+William, in whose mind's eye lingered the vision
+of an exquisite doglet, with pink-ribboned throat
+and a cottony head bobbing gently over a
+filmy sleeve.  ``He doesn't come within a mile of
+ME, no matter what his name is!''
+
+``Name Clem fer short,'' said Genesis, amiably. 
+``I trade in a mandoline fer him what had her
+neck kind o' busted off on one side.  I couldn'
+play her nohow, an' I found her, anyways.  Yes-
+suh, I trade in 'at mandoline fer him 'cause always
+did like to have me a good dog--but I d'in'
+have me no name fer him; an' this here Blooie
+Bowers, what I trade in the mandoline to, he say
+HE d'in have no name fer him.  Say nev' did know
+if WAS a name fer him 'tall.  So I'z spen' the
+evenin' at 'at lady's house, Fanny, what used to
+be cook fer Miz Johnson, nex' do' you' maw's;
+an' I ast Fanny what am I go'n' a do about it, an' 
+Fanny say, `Call him Clematis,' she say.  ` 'At's
+a nice name!' she say.  `Clematis.' So 'at's name
+I name him, Clematis.  Call him Clem fer short,
+but Clematis his real name.  He'll come, whichever
+one you call him, Clem or Clematis.  Make
+no diff'ence to him, long's he git his vittles.  Clem
+or Clematis, HE ain' carin'!''
+
+William's ear was deaf to this account of the
+naming of Clematis; he walked haughtily, but as
+rapidly as possible, trying to keep a little in
+advance of his talkative companion, who had
+never received the training as a servitor which
+should have taught him his proper distance from
+the Young Master.  William's suffering eyes were
+fixed upon remoteness; and his lips moved, now
+and then, like a martyr's, pronouncing inaudibly
+a sacred word.  ``Milady!  Oh, Milady!''
+
+Thus they had covered some three blocks of
+their journey--the too-democratic Genesis chatting
+companionably and William burning with
+mortification--when the former broke into loud
+laughter.
+
+``What I tell you?'' he cried, pointing ahead. 
+``Look ayonnuh!  NO, suh, Pres'dent United
+States hisse'f ain' go tell 'at dog stay home!''
+
+And there, at the corner before them, waited
+Clematis, roguishly lying in a mud-puddle in the
+gutter.  He had run through alleys parallel to
+their course--and in the face of such demoniac
+cunning the wretched William despaired of
+evading his society.  Indeed, there was nothing
+to do but to give up, and so the trio proceeded,
+with William unable to decide which contaminated
+him more, Genesis or the loyal Clematis. 
+To his way of thinking, he was part of a dreadful
+pageant, and he winced pitiably whenever the eye
+of a respectable passer-by fell upon him.  Everybody
+seemed to stare--nay, to leer!  And he felt
+that the whole world would know his shame by
+nightfall.
+
+Nobody, he reflected, seeing him in such
+company, could believe that he belonged to ``one of
+the oldest and best families in town.''  Nobody
+would understand that he was not walking with
+Genesis for the pleasure of his companionship
+--until they got the tubs and the wash-
+boiler, when his social condition must be thought
+even more degraded.  And nobody, he was shudderingly
+positive, could see that Clematis was not
+his dog (Clematis kept himself humbly a little in
+the rear, but how was any observer to know that
+he belonged to Genesis and not to William?
+
+And how frightful that THIS should befall him
+on such a day, the very day that his soul had been
+split asunder by the turquoise shafts of Milady's
+eyes and he had learned to know the Real Thing
+at last!
+
+``Milady!  Oh, Milady!''
+
+For in the elder teens adolescence may be
+completed, but not by experience, and these years
+know their own tragedies.  It is the time of life
+when one finds it unendurable not to seem perfect
+in all outward matters: in worldly position, in
+the equipments of wealth, in family, and in the
+grace, elegance, and dignity of all appearances in
+public.  And yet the youth is continually betrayed
+by the child still intermittently insistent
+within him, and by the child which undiplomatic
+people too often assume him to be.  Thus with
+William's attire: he could ill have borne any
+suggestion that it was not of the mode, but taking
+care of it was a different matter.  Also, when it
+came to his appetite, he could and would eat
+anything at any time, but something younger than
+his years led him--often in semi-secrecy--to
+candy-stores and soda-water fountains and ice-
+cream parlors; he still relished green apples and
+knew cravings for other dangerous inedibles. 
+But these survivals were far from painful to him;
+what injured his sensibilities was the disposition
+on the part of people especially his parents, and
+frequently his aunts and uncles--to regard him
+as a little boy.  Briefly, the deference his soul
+demanded in its own right, not from strangers
+only, but from his family, was about that which
+is supposed to be shown a Grand Duke visiting
+his Estates.  Therefore William suffered often.
+
+But the full ignominy of the task his own
+mother had set him this afternoon was not realized
+until he and Genesis set forth upon the return
+journey from the second-hand shop, bearing the
+two wash-tubs, a clothes-wringer (which Mrs.
+Baxter had forgotten to mention), and the tin
+boiler--and followed by the lowly Clematis.
+
+
+
+V
+
+SORROWS WITHIN A BOILER
+
+There was something really pageant-like
+about the little excursion now, and the glittering
+clothes-boiler, borne on high, sent flashing
+lights far down the street.  The wash-tubs were
+old-fashioned, of wood; they refused to fit one
+within the other; so William, with his right hand,
+and Genesis, with his left, carried one of the tubs
+between them; Genesis carried the heavy wringer
+with his right hand, and he had fastened the other
+tub upon his back by means of a bit of rope
+which passed over his shoulder; thus the tin
+boiler, being a lighter burden, fell to William.
+
+The cover would not stay in place, but
+continually fell off when he essayed to carry the
+boiler by one of its handles, and he made shift to
+manage the accursed thing in various ways--the
+only one proving physically endurable being,
+unfortunately, the most grotesque.  He was forced
+to carry the cover in his left hand and to place his
+head partially within the boiler itself, and to support
+it--tilted obliquely to rest upon his shoulders
+--as a kind of monstrous tin cowl or helmet. 
+This had the advantage of somewhat concealing
+his face, though when he leaned his head back, in
+order to obtain clearer vision of what was before
+him, the boiler slid off and fell to the pavement
+with a noise that nearly caused a runaway, and
+brought the hot-cheeked William much derisory
+attention from a passing street-car.  However, he
+presently caught the knack of keeping it in position,
+and it fell no more.
+
+Seen from the rear, William was unrecognizable
+--but interesting.  He appeared to be a walking
+clothes-boiler, armed with a shield and connected,
+by means of a wash-tub, with a negro of informal
+ideas concerning dress.  In fact, the group was
+whimsical, and three young people who turned in
+behind it, out of a cross-street, indulged immediately
+in fits of inadequately suppressed laughter,
+though neither Miss May Parcher nor Mr.
+Johnnie Watson even remotely suspected that
+the legs beneath the clothes-boiler belonged to
+an acquaintance.  And as for the third of this
+little party, Miss Parcher's visitor, those
+peregrinating legs suggested nothing familiar to her.
+
+``Oh, see the fun-ee laundrymans!'' she cried,
+addressing a cottony doglet's head that bobbed
+gently up and down over her supporting arm. 
+``Sweetest Flopit must see, too!  Flopit, look at
+the fun-ee laundrymans!''
+
+`` 'Sh!'' murmured Miss Parcher, choking.  ``He
+might hear you.''
+
+He might, indeed, since they were not five
+yards behind him and the dulcet voice was clear
+and free.  Within the shadowy interior of the
+clothes-boiler were features stricken with sudden,
+utter horror.  ``FLOPIT!''
+
+The attention of Genesis was attracted by a
+convulsive tugging of the tub which he supported
+in common with William; it seemed passionately
+to urge greater speed.  A hissing issued from the
+boiler, and Genesis caught the words, huskily
+whispered:
+
+``Walk faster!  You got to walk faster.''
+
+The tub between them tugged forward with a
+pathos of appeal wasted upon the easy-going
+Genesis.
+
+``I got plenty time cut 'at grass befo' you' pa
+gits home,'' he said, reassuringly.  ``Thishere
+rope what I got my extry tub slung to is 'mos'
+wo' plum thew my hide.''
+
+Having uttered this protest, he continued to
+ambulate at the same pace, though somewhat
+assisted by the forward pull of the connecting
+tub, an easance of burden which he found pleasant;
+and no supplementary message came from
+the clothes-boiler, for the reason that it was
+incapable of further speech.  And so the two groups
+maintained for a time their relative positions,
+about fifteen feet apart.
+
+The amusement of the second group having
+abated through satiety, the minds of its components
+turned to other topics.  ``Now Flopit must
+have his darlin' 'ickle run,'' said Flopit's mistress,
+setting the doglet upon the ground.  ``That's
+why sweetest Flopit and I and all of us came for
+a walk, instead of sitting on the nice, cool porch-
+kins.  SEE the sweetie toddle!  Isn't he adorable,
+May?  ISN'T he adorable, Mr. Watson?''
+
+Mr. Watson put a useless sin upon his soul,
+since all he needed to say was a mere ``Yes.'' 
+He fluently avowed himself to have become
+insane over the beauty of Flopit.
+
+Flopit, placed upon the ground, looked like
+something that had dropped from a Christmas
+tree, and he automatically made use of fuzzy
+legs, somewhat longer than a caterpillar's, to
+patter after his mistress.  He was neither
+enterprising nor inquisitive; he kept close to the rim
+of her skirt, which was as high as he could see,
+and he wished to be taken up and carried again. 
+He was in a half-stupor; it was his desire to
+remain in that condition, and his propulsion was
+almost wholly subconscious, though surprisingly
+rapid, considering his dimensions.
+
+``My goo'ness!'' exclaimed Genesis, glancing
+back over his shoulder.  `` 'At li'l' thing ack like
+he think he go'n a GIT somewheres!''  And then, in
+answer to a frantic pull upon the tub, ``Look like
+you mighty strong t'day,'' he said.  ``I cain' go
+no fastuh!''  He glanced back again, chuckling. 
+`` 'At li'l' bird do well not mix up nothin' 'ith ole
+man Clematis!''
+
+Clematis, it happened, was just coming into
+view, having been detained round the corner by
+his curiosity concerning a set of Louis XVI.
+furniture which some house-movers were unpacking
+upon the sidewalk.  A curl of excelsior, in fact,
+had attached itself to his nether lip, and he was
+pausing to remove it--when his roving eye fell
+upon Flopit.  Clematis immediately decided to
+let the excelsior remain where it was, lest he miss
+something really important.
+
+He approached with glowing eagerness at a
+gallop.
+
+Then, having almost reached his goal, he
+checked himself with surprising abruptness and
+walked obliquely beside Flopit, but upon a parallel
+course, his manner agitated and his brow
+furrowed with perplexity.  Flopit was about the
+size of Clematis's head, and although Clematis
+was certain that Flopit was something alive, he
+could not decide what.
+
+Flopit paid not the slightest attention to
+Clematis.  The self-importance of dogs, like that of
+the minds of men, is in directly inverse ratio to
+their size; and if the self-importance of Flopit
+could have been taken out of him and given to
+an elephant, that elephant would have been
+insufferable.
+
+Flopit continued to pay no attention to
+Clematis.
+
+All at once, a roguish and irresponsible mood
+seized upon Clematis; he laid his nose upon the
+ground, deliberating a bit of gaiety, and then,
+with a little rush, set a large, rude paw upon the
+sensitive face of Flopit and capsized him.  Flopit
+uttered a bitter complaint in an asthmatic voice.
+
+``Oh, nassy dray bid Horror!'' cried his
+mistress, turning quickly at this sound and waving a
+pink parasol at Clematis.  ``Shoo!  DIRTY dog! 
+Go 'way!''  And she was able somehow to connect
+him with the wash-tub and boiler, for she
+added, ``Nassy laundrymans to have bad
+doggies!''
+
+Mr. Watson rushed upon Clematis with angry
+bellowings and imaginary missiles.  ``You
+disgusting brute!'' he roared.  ``How DARE you?''
+
+Apparently much alarmed, Clematis lowered
+his ears, tucked his tail underneath him, and fled
+to the rear, not halting once or looking back until
+he disappeared round the corner whence he had
+come.  ``There!'' said Mr. Watson.  ``I guess HE
+won't bother us again very soon!''
+
+It must be admitted that Milady was one of
+those people who do not mind being overheard,
+no matter what they say.  ``Lucky for us,'' she
+said, ``we had a nice dray bid MANS to protect
+us, wasn't it, Flopit?''  And she thought it
+necessary to repeat something she had already made
+sufficiently emphatic.
+
+``Nassy laundrymans!''
+
+``I expect I gave that big mongrel the fright
+of his life,'' said Mr. Watson, with complacency. 
+``He'll probably run a mile!''
+
+The shoulders of Genesis shook as he was towed
+along by the convulsive tub.  He knew from previous
+evidence that Clematis possessed both a
+high quality and a large quantity of persistence,
+and it was his hilarious opinion that the dog had
+not gone far.  As a matter of fact, the head of
+Clematis was at this moment cautiously extended
+from behind the fence-post at the corner whither
+he had fled.  Viewing with growing assurance the
+scene before him, he permitted himself to emerge
+wholly, and sat down, with his head tilted to
+one side in thought.  Almost at the next corner
+the clothes-boiler with legs, and the wash-tubs,
+and Genesis were marching on; and just behind
+them went three figures not so familiar to Clematis,
+and connected in his mind with a vague,
+mild apprehension.  But all backs were safely
+toward him, and behind them pattered that small
+live thing which had so profoundly interested him.
+
+He rose and came on apace, silently.
+
+When he reached the side of Flopit, some eight
+or nine seconds later, Clematis found himself even
+more fascinated and perplexed than during their
+former interview, though again Flopit seemed
+utterly to disregard him.  Clematis was not at
+all sure that Flopit WAS a dog, but he felt that
+it was his business to find out.  Heaven knows,
+so far, Clematis had not a particle of animosity
+in his heart, but he considered it his duty to himself--
+in case Flopit turned out not to be a dog--
+to learn just what he was.  The thing might be
+edible.
+
+Therefore, again pacing obliquely beside Flopit
+(while the human beings ahead went on, unconscious
+of the approaching climax behind them)
+Clematis sought to detect, by senses keener than
+sight, some evidence of Flopit's standing in the
+zoological kingdom; and, sniffing at the top of
+Flopit's head--though Clematis was uncertain
+about its indeed being a head--he found himself
+baffled and mentally much disturbed.
+
+Flopit did not smell like a dog; he smelled of
+violets.
+
+
+
+VI
+
+TRUCULENCE
+
+Clematis frowned and sneezed as the infinitesimal
+particles of sachet powder settled in
+the lining of his nose.  He became serious, and
+was conscious of a growing feeling of dislike; he
+began to be upset over the whole matter.  But
+his conscience compelled him to persist in his
+attempt to solve the mystery; and also he remembered
+that one should be courteous, no matter
+what some other thing chooses to be.  Hence he
+sought to place his nose in contact with Flopit's,
+for he had perceived on the front of the
+mysterious stranger a buttony something which
+might possibly be a nose.
+
+Flopit evaded the contact.  He felt that he
+had endured about enough from this Apache, and
+that it was nearly time to destroy him.  Having
+no experience of battle, save with bedroom
+slippers and lace handkerchiefs, Flopit had little
+doubt of his powers as a warrior.  Betrayed by
+his majestic self-importance, he had not the
+remotest idea that he was small.  Usually he saw
+the world from a window, or from the seat of
+an automobile, or over his mistress's arm.  He
+looked down on all dogs, thought them ruffianly,
+despised them; and it is the miraculous truth
+that not only was he unaware that he was
+small, but he did not even know that he was a
+dog, himself.  He did not think about himself in
+that way.
+
+From these various ignorances of his sprang
+his astonishing, his incredible, valor.  Clematis,
+with head lowered close to Flopit's, perceived
+something peering at him from beneath the
+tangled curtain of cottony, violet-scented stuff
+which seemed to be the upper part of Flopit's
+face.  It was Flopit's eye, a red-rimmed eye and
+sore--and so demoniacally malignant that Clematis,
+indescribably startled, would have withdrawn
+his own countenance at once--but it was
+too late.  With a fearful oath Flopit sprang
+upward and annexed himself to the under lip of the
+horrified Clematis.
+
+Horror gave place to indignation instantly; and
+as Miss Parcher and her guest turned, screaming,
+Clematis's self-command went all to pieces. 
+
+Miss Parcher became faint and leaned against
+the hedge along which they had been passing, but
+her visitor continued to scream, while Mr. Watson
+endeavored to kick Clematis without ruining
+Flopit--a difficult matter.
+
+Flopit was baresark from the first, and the
+mystery is where he learned the dog-cursing that
+he did.  In spite of the David-and-Goliath difference
+in size it would be less than justice to deny
+that a very fair dog-fight took place.  It was so
+animated, in truth, that the one expert in such
+matters who was present found himself warmly
+interested.  Genesis relieved himself of the burden
+of the wash-tub upon his back, dropped the
+handle of that other in which he had a half-
+interest, and watched the combat; his mouth,
+like his eyes, wide open in simple pleasure.
+
+He was not destined to enjoy the spectacle to
+the uttermost; a furious young person struck
+him a frantic, though harmless, blow with a pink
+parasol.
+
+``You stop them!'' she screamed.  ``You make
+that horrible dog stop, or I'll have you arrested!''
+
+Genesis rushed forward.
+
+``You CLEM!'' he shouted.
+
+And instantly Clematis was but a whitish and
+brownish streak along the hedge.  He ran like a
+dog in a moving picture when they speed the
+film, and he shot from sight, once more, round
+the corner, while Flopit, still cursing, was seized
+and squeezed in his mistress's embrace.
+
+But she was not satisfied.  ``Where's that
+laundryman with the tin thing on his head?'' she
+demanded.  ``He ought to be arrested for having
+such a dog.  It's HIS dog, isn't it?  Where is
+he?''
+
+Genesis turned and looked round about the
+horizon, mystified.  William Sylvanus Baxter and
+the clothes-boiler had disappeared from sight.
+
+``If he owns that dog,'' asserted the still furious
+owner of Flopit, ``I WILL have him arrested.''
+Where is he? Where is that laundryman?''
+
+``Why, he,'' Genesis began slowly, ``HE ain' no
+laundrym--''  He came to an uncertain pause. 
+If she chose to assume, with quick feminine intuition,
+that the dog was William's and that William
+was a laundryman, it was not Genesis's place to
+enlighten her.  `` 'Tic'larly,'' he reflected, ``since
+she talk so free about gittin' people 'rested!'' 
+He became aware that William had squirmed
+through the hedge and now lay prostrate on the
+other side of it, but this, likewise, was something
+within neither his duty nor his inclination to
+reveal.
+
+``Thishere laundryman,'' said Genesis, resuming--
+``thishere laundryman what own the dog,
+I reckon he mus' hopped on 'at street-car what
+went by.''
+
+``Well, he OUGHT to be arrested!'' she said, and,
+pressing her cheek to Flopit's, she changed her
+tone.  ``Izzum's ickle heart a-beatin' so floppity! 
+Um's own mumsy make ums all right, um's
+p'eshus Flopit!'
+
+Then with the consoling Miss Parcher's arm
+about her, and Mr. Watson even more dazzled
+with love than when he had first met her, some
+three hours past, she made her way between
+the tubs, and passed on down the street.  Not
+till the three (and Flopit) were out of sight
+did William come forth from the hedge.
+
+``Hi yah!'' exclaimed Genesis.  `` 'At lady go'n a
+'rest ev'y man what own a dog, 'f she had her
+way!''
+
+But William spoke no word.
+
+In silence, then, they resumed their burdens
+and their journey.  Clematis was waiting for
+them at the corner ahead.
+
+
+
+VII
+
+MR. BAXTER'S EVENING CLOTHES
+
+That evening, at about half-past seven
+o'clock, dinner being over and Mr. and Mrs.
+Baxter (parents of William) seated in the library,
+Mrs. Baxter said:
+
+``I think it's about time for you to go and dress
+for your Emerson Club meeting, papa, if you
+intend to go.''
+
+``Do I have to dress?'' Mr. Baxter asked,
+plaintively.
+
+``I think nearly all the men do, don't they?''
+she insisted.
+
+``But I'm getting old enough not to have to,
+don't you think, mamma?'' he urged, appealingly. 
+``When a man's my age--''
+
+``Nonsense!'' she said.  ``Your figure is exactly
+like William's.  It's the figure that really shows
+age first, and yours hasn't begun to.''  And she
+added, briskly, ``Go along like a good boy and
+get it ever!''
+
+Mr. Baxter rose submissively and went up-
+stairs to do as he was bid.  But, after fifteen or
+twenty minutes, during which his footsteps had
+been audible in various parts of the house, he
+called down over the banisters:
+
+``I can't find 'em.''
+
+``Can't find what?''
+
+``My evening clothes.  They aren't anywhere
+in the house.''
+
+``Where did you put them the last time you
+wore them?'' she called.
+
+``I don't know.  I haven't had 'em on since
+last spring.''
+
+``All right; I'll come,'' she said, putting her
+sewing upon the table and rising.  ``Men never
+can find anything,'' she observed, additionally, as
+she ascended the stairs.  ``Especially their own
+things!''
+
+On this occasion, however, as she was obliged
+to admit a little later, women were not more
+efficacious than the duller sex.  Search high,
+search low, no trace of Mr. Baxter's evening
+clothes were to be found.  ``Perhaps William
+could find them,'' said Mrs. Baxter, a final
+confession of helplessness.
+
+But William was no more to be found than
+the missing apparel.  William, in fact, after
+spending some time in the lower back hall, listening
+to the quest above, had just gone out through
+the kitchen door.  And after some ensuing futile
+efforts, Mr. Baxter was forced to proceed to his
+club in the accoutrements of business.
+
+He walked slowly, enjoying the full moon,
+which sailed up a river in the sky--the open space
+between the trees that lined the street--and as he
+passed the house of Mr. Parcher he noted the fine
+white shape of a masculine evening bosom gleaming
+in the moonlight on the porch.  A dainty figure
+in white sat beside it, and there was another
+white figure present, though this one was
+so small that Mr. Baxter did not see it at all.  It
+was the figure of a tiny doglet, and it reposed
+upon the black masculine knees that belonged to
+the evening bosom.
+
+Mr. Baxter heard a dulcet voice.
+
+``He IS indifferink, isn't he, sweetest Flopit? 
+Seriously, though, Mr. Watson was telling me
+about you to-day.  He says you're the most
+indifferent man he knows.  He says you don't
+care two minutes whether a girl lives or dies. 
+Isn't he a mean ole wicked sing, p'eshus Flopit!''
+
+The reply was inaudible, and Mr. Baxter
+passed on, having recognized nothing of his
+own.
+
+``These YOUNG fellows don't have any trouble
+finding their dress-suits, I guess,'' he murmured. 
+``Not on a night like this!''
+
+
+.  .  .  Thus William, after a hard day, came
+to the gates of his romance, entering those portals
+of the moon in triumph.  At one stroke his dashing
+raiment gave him high superiority over Johnnie
+Watson and other rivals who might loom. 
+But if he had known to what undoing this great
+coup exposed him, it is probable that Mr. Baxter
+would have appeared at the Emerson Club, that
+night, in evening clothes.
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+JANE
+
+William's period of peculiar sensitiveness
+dated from that evening, and Jane, in
+particular, caused him a great deal of anxiety. 
+In fact, he began to feel that Jane was a
+mortification which his parents might have spared him,
+with no loss to themselves or to the world.  Not
+having shown that consideration for anybody,
+they might at least have been less spinelessly
+indulgent of her.  William's bitter conviction
+was that he had never seen a child so starved of
+discipline or so lost to etiquette as Jane.
+
+For one thing, her passion for bread-and-butter,
+covered with apple sauce and powdered sugar,
+was getting to be a serious matter.  Secretly,
+William was not yet so changed by love as to be
+wholly indifferent to this refection himself, but
+his consumption of it was private, whereas Jane
+had formed the habit of eating it in exposed places
+--such as the front yard or the sidewalk.  At
+no hour of the day was it advisable for a relative
+to approach the neighborhood in fastidious
+company, unless prepared to acknowledge kinship
+with a spindly young person either eating
+bread-and-butter and apple sauce and powdered
+sugar, or all too visibly just having eaten bread-
+and-butter and apple sauce and powdered sugar. 
+Moreover, there were times when Jane had
+worse things than apple sauce to answer for, as
+William made clear to his mother in an oration
+as hot as the July noon sun which looked down
+upon it.
+
+Mrs. Baxter was pleasantly engaged with a
+sprinkling-can and some small flower-beds in the
+shady back yard, and Jane, having returned from
+various sidewalk excursions, stood close by as a
+spectator, her hands replenished with the favorite
+food and her chin rising and falling in gentle
+motions, little prophecies of the slight distensions
+which passed down her slender throat with slow,
+rhythmic regularity.  Upon this calm scene came
+William, plunging round a corner of the house,
+furious yet plaintive.
+
+``You've got to do something about that
+child!'' he began.  ``I CAN not stand it!''
+
+Jane looked at him dumbly, not ceasing, how
+ever, to eat; while Mrs. Baxter thoughtfully
+continued her sprinkling.
+
+``You've been gone all morning, Willie,'' she
+said.  ``I thought your father mentioned at
+breakfast that he expected you to put in at
+least four hours a day on your mathematics
+and--''
+
+``That's neither here nor there,'' William
+returned, vehemently.  ``I just want to say this:
+if you don't do something about Jane, I will! 
+Just look at her!  LOOK at her, I ask you!  That's
+just the way she looked half an hour ago, out on
+the public sidewalk in front of the house, when I
+came by here with Miss PRATT!  That was pleasant,
+wasn't it?  To be walking with a lady on the
+public street and meet a member of my family
+looking like that!  Oh, LOVELY!''
+
+In the anguish of this recollection his voice
+cracked, and though his eyes were dry his gestures
+wept for him.  Plainly, he was about to reach the
+most lamentable portion of his narrative.  ``And
+then she HOLLERED at me!  She hollered, `Oh,
+WILL--EE!'  Here he gave an imitation of Jane's
+voice, so damnatory that Jane ceased to eat for
+several moments and drew herself up with a kind
+of dignity.  ``She hollered, `Oh, WILL--EE' at me!''
+he stormed.  ``Anybody would think I was about
+six years old!  She hollered, `Oh, Will--ee,' and
+she rubbed her stomach and slushed apple sauce
+all over her face, and she kept hollering,
+`Will--ee!' with her mouth full.  `Will--ee,
+look!  Good!  Bread-and-butter and apple
+sauce and sugar!  I bet you wish YOU had
+some, Will--ee!' ''
+
+``You did eat some, the other day,'' said Jane.
+``You ate a whole lot.  You eat it every chance
+you get!''
+
+``You hush up!'' he shouted, and returned to
+his description of the outrage.  ``She kept FOLLOWING
+us!  She followed us, hollering, `WILL--EE!'
+till it's a wonder we didn't go deaf!  And just
+look at her!  I don't see how you can stand it
+to have her going around like that and people
+knowing it's your child!  Why, she hasn't got
+enough ON!''
+
+Mrs. Baxter laughed.  ``Oh, for this very hot
+weather, I really don't think people notice or
+care much about--''
+
+`` `Notice'!'' he wailed.  ``I guess Miss PRATT
+noticed!  Hot weather's no excuse for--for outright
+obesity!''  (As Jane was thin, it is probable
+that William had mistaken the meaning of this
+word.)  ``Why, half o' what she HAS got on has
+come unfastened--especially that frightful thing
+hanging around her leg--and look at her back,
+I just beg you!  I ask you to look at her back. 
+You can see her spinal cord!''
+
+``Column,'' Mrs. Baxter corrected.  ``Spinal
+column, Willie.''
+
+``What do _I_ care which it is?'' he fumed. 
+``People aren't supposed to go around with it
+EXPOSED, whichever it is!  And with apple sauce
+on their ears!''
+
+``There is not!'' Jane protested, and at the
+moment when she spoke she was right.  Naturally,
+however, she lifted her hands to the accused ears,
+and the unfortunate result was to justify William's
+statement.
+
+``LOOK!'' he cried.  ``I just ask you to look! 
+Think of it: that's the sight I have to meet when
+I'm out walking with Miss PRATT!  She asked me
+who it was, and I wish you'd seen her face.  She
+wanted to know who `that curious child' was,
+and I'm glad you didn't hear the way she said it. 
+`Who IS that curious child?' she said, and I had
+to tell her it was my sister.  I had to tell Miss
+PRATT it was my only SISTER!''
+
+``Willie, who is Miss Pratt?'' asked Mrs.
+Baxter, mildly.  ``I don't think I've ever heard
+of--''
+
+Jane had returned to an admirable imperturbability,
+but she chose this moment to interrupt
+her mother, and her own eating, with remarks
+delivered in a tone void of emphasis or expression.
+
+``Willie's mashed on her,'' she said, casually. 
+``And she wears false side-curls.  One almost
+came off.''
+
+At this unspeakable desecration William's face
+was that of a high priest stricken at the altar.
+
+``She's visitin' Miss May Parcher,'' added the
+deadly Jane.  ``But the Parchers are awful tired
+of her.  They wish she'd go home, but they don't
+like to tell her so.''
+
+One after another these insults from the canaille
+fell upon the ears of William.  That slanders so
+atrocious could soil the universal air seemed
+unthinkable.
+
+He became icily calm.
+
+``NOW if you don't punish her,'' he said,
+deliberately, ``it's because you have lost your sense
+of duty!''
+
+Having uttered these terrible words, he turned
+upon his heel and marched toward the house. 
+His mother called after him:
+
+``Wait, Willie.  Jane doesn't mean to hurt
+your feelings--''
+
+``My feelings!'' he cried, the iciness of his
+demeanor giving way under the strain of emotion. 
+``You stand there and allow her to speak
+as she did of one of the--one of the--''  For
+a moment William appeared to be at a loss,
+and the fact is that it always has been a difficult
+matter to describe THE bright, ineffable divinity
+of the world to one's mother, especially in the
+presence of an inimical third party of tender
+years.  ``One of the--'' he said; ``one of the--
+the noblest--one of the noblest--''
+
+Again he paused.
+
+``Oh, Jane didn't mean anything,'' said Mrs.
+Baxter.  ``And if you think Miss Pratt is so nice,
+I'll ask May Parcher to bring her to tea with us
+some day.  If it's too hot, we'll have iced tea,
+and you can ask Johnnie Watson, if you like. 
+Don't get so upset about things, Willie!''
+
+`` `Upset'!'' he echoed, appealing to heaven
+against this word.  `` `Upset'!''  And he entered
+the house in a manner most dramatic.
+
+``What made you say that?'' Mrs. Baxter
+asked, turning curiously to Jane when William
+had disappeared.  ``Where did you hear any
+such things?''
+
+``I was there,'' Jane replied, gently eating on
+and on.  William could come and William could
+go, but Jane's alimentary canal went on forever.
+
+``You were where, Jane?''
+
+``At the Parchers'.''
+
+``Oh, I see.''
+
+``Yesterday afternoon,'' said Jane, ``when
+Miss Parcher had the Sunday-school class for
+lemonade and cookies.''
+
+``Did you hear Miss Parcher say--''
+
+``No'm,'' said Jane.  ``I ate too many cookies,
+I guess, maybe.  Anyways, Miss Parcher said
+I better lay down--''
+
+``LIE down, Jane.''
+
+``Yes'm.  On the sofa in the liberry, an' Mrs.
+Parcher an' Mr. Parcher came in there an' sat
+down, after while, an' it was kind of dark, an'
+they didn't hardly notice me, or I guess they
+thought I was asleep, maybe.  Anyways, they
+didn't talk loud, but Mr. Parcher would sort of
+grunt an' ack cross.  He said he just wished he
+knew when he was goin' to have a home again. 
+Then Mrs. Parcher said May HAD to ask her
+Sunday-school class, but he said he never meant
+the Sunday-school class.  He said since Miss
+Pratt came to visit, there wasn't anywhere
+he could go, because Willie Baxter an' Johnnie
+Watson an' Joe Bullitt an' all the other ones
+like that were there all the time, an' it made him
+just sick at the stummick, an' he did wish there
+was some way to find out when she was goin'
+home, because he couldn't stand much more talk
+about love.  He said Willie an' Johnnie Watson
+an' Joe Bullitt an' Miss Pratt were always arguin'
+somep'm about love, an' he said Willie was
+the worst.  Mamma, he said he didn't like the
+rest of it, but he said he guessed he could stand
+it if it wasn't for Willie.  An' he said the reason
+they were all so in love of Miss Pratt was because
+she talks baby-talk, an' he said he couldn't stand
+much more baby-talk.  Mamma, she has the
+loveliest little white dog, an' Mr. Parcher doesn't
+like it.  He said he couldn't go anywhere around
+the place without steppin' on the dog or Willie
+Baxter.  An' he said he couldn't sit on his own
+porch any more; he said he couldn't sit even in
+the liberry but he had to hear baby-talk goin'
+on SOMEwheres an' then either Willie Baxter or
+Joe Bullitt or somebody or another arguin' about
+love.  Mamma, he said''--Jane became
+impressive--``he said, mamma, he said he didn't
+mind the Sunday-school class, but he couldn't
+stand those dam boys!''
+
+``Jane!'' Mrs. Baxter cried, ``you MUSTN'T
+say such things!''
+
+``I didn't, mamma.  Mr. Parcher said it.  He
+said he couldn't stand those da--''
+
+``JANE!  No matter what he said, you mustn't
+repeat--''
+
+``But I'm not.  I only said Mr. PARCHER said he
+couldn't stand those d--''
+
+Mrs. Baxter cut the argument short by
+imprisoning Jane's mouth with a firm hand.  Jane
+continued to swallow quietly until released. 
+Then she said:
+
+``But, mamma, how can I tell you what he
+said unless I say--''
+
+``Hush!'' Mrs. Baxter commanded.  ``You
+must never, never again use such a terrible and
+wicked word.''
+
+``I won't, mamma,'' Jane said, meekly.  Then
+she brightened.  ``Oh, _I_ know!  I'll say `word'
+instead.  Won't that be all right?''
+
+``I--I suppose so.''
+
+``Well, Mr. Parcher said he couldn't stand
+those word boys.  That sounds all right, doesn't
+it, mamma?''
+
+Mrs. Baxter hesitated, but she was inclined to
+hear as complete as possible a report of Mr. and
+Mrs. Parcher's conversation, since it seemed to
+concern William so nearly; and she well knew
+that Jane had her own way of telling things--or
+else they remained untold.
+
+``I--I suppose so,'' Mrs. Baxter said,
+again.
+
+``Well, they kind of talked along,'' Jane
+continued, much pleased;--``an' Mr. Parcher said
+when he was young he wasn't any such a--such a
+word fool as these young word fools were.  He
+said in all his born days Willie Baxter was the
+wordest fool he ever saw!''
+
+Willie Baxter's mother flushed a little.  ``That
+was very unjust and very wrong of Mr. Parcher,''
+she said, primly.
+
+``Oh no, mamma!'' Jane protested.  ``Mrs.
+Parcher thought so, too.''
+
+``Did she, indeed!''
+
+``Only she didn't say word or wordest or anything
+like that,'' Jane explained.  ``She said it
+was because Miss Pratt had coaxed him to be so
+in love of her, an' Mr. Parcher said he didn't care
+whose fault it was, Willie was a--a word calf an'
+so were all the rest of 'em, Mr. Parcher said. 
+An' he said he couldn't stand it any more.  Mr.
+Parcher said that a whole lot of times, mamma. 
+He said he guess' pretty soon he'd haf to be in the
+lunatic asylum if Miss Pratt stayed a few more
+days with her word little dog an' her word
+Willie Baxter an' all the other word calfs. 
+Mrs. Parcher said he oughtn't to say `word,'
+mamma.  She said, `Hush, hush!' to him, mamma. 
+He talked like this, mamma: he said, `I'll
+be word if I stand it!'  An' he kept gettin'
+crosser, an' he said, `Word!  Word!  WORD!
+WOR--' ''
+
+``There!'' Mrs. Baxter interrupted, sharply. 
+``That will do, Jane!  We'll talk about something
+else now, I think.''
+
+Jane looked hurt; she was taking great
+pleasure in this confidential interview, and gladly
+would have continued to quote the harried Mr.
+Parcher at great length.  Still, she was not
+entirely uncontent: she must have had some
+perception that her performance merely as a
+notable bit of reportorial art--did not wholly lack
+style, even if her attire did.  Yet, brilliant as
+Jane's work was, Mrs. Baxter felt no astonishment;
+several times ere this Jane had demonstrated
+a remarkable faculty for the retention
+of details concerning William.  And running
+hand in hand with a really superb curiosity, this
+powerful memory was making Jane an even
+greater factor in William's life than he suspected.
+
+During the glamors of early love, if there be
+a creature more deadly than the little brother of
+a budding woman, that creature is the little sister
+of a budding man.  The little brother at least
+tells in the open all he knows, often at full
+power of his lungs, and even that may be avoided,
+since he is wax in the hands of bribery; but the
+little sister is more apt to save her knowledge for
+use upon a terrible occasion; and, no matter
+what bribes she may accept, she is certain to tell
+her mother everything.  All in all, a young
+lover should arrange, if possible, to be the
+only child of elderly parents; otherwise his
+mother and sister are sure to know a great
+deal more about him than he knows that they
+know.
+
+This was what made Jane's eyes so disturbing
+to William during lunch that day.  She ate
+quietly and competently, but all the while he was
+conscious of her solemn and inscrutable gaze
+fixed upon him; and she spoke not once.  She
+could not have rendered herself more annoying,
+especially as William was trying to treat her
+with silent scorn, for nothing is more irksome to
+the muscles of the face than silent scorn, when
+there is no means of showing it except by the
+expression.  On the other hand, Jane's
+inscrutability gave her no discomfort whatever.  
+In fact, inscrutability is about the most 
+comfortable expression that a person can wear, 
+though the truth is that just now Jane was not 
+really inscrutable at all.
+
+She was merely looking at William and thinking
+of Mr. Parcher.
+
+
+
+IX
+
+LITTLE SISTERS HAVE BIG EARS
+
+The confidential talk between mother and
+daughter at noon was not the last to take
+place that day.  At nightfall--eight o'clock in
+this pleasant season--Jane was saying her
+prayers beside her bed, while her mother stood
+close by, waiting to put out the light.
+
+``An' bless mamma and papa an'--'' Jane
+murmured, coming to a pause.  ``An'--an' bless
+Willie,'' she added, with a little reluctance.
+
+``Go on, dear,'' said her mother.  ``You
+haven't finished.''
+
+``I know it, mamma,'' Jane looked up to say. 
+``I was just thinkin' a minute.  I want to tell
+you about somep'm.''
+
+``Finish your prayers first, Jane.''
+
+Jane obeyed with a swiftness in which there
+was no intentional irreverence.  Then she jumped
+into bed and began a fresh revelation.
+
+``It's about papa's clo'es, mamma.''
+
+``What clothes of papa's?  What do you
+mean, Jane?'' asked Mrs. Baxter, puzzled.
+
+``The ones you couldn't find.  The ones you
+been lookin' for 'most every day.''
+
+``You mean papa's evening clothes?''
+
+``Yes'm,'' said Jane.  ``Willie's got 'em on.''
+
+``What!''
+
+``Yes, he has!'' Jane assured her with emphasis. 
+``I bet you he's had 'em on every single
+evening since Miss Pratt came to visit the
+Parchers!  Anyway, he's got 'em on now, 'cause
+I saw 'em.''
+
+Mrs. Baxter bit her lip and frowned.  ``Are
+you sure, Jane?''
+
+``Yes'm.  I saw him in 'em.''
+
+``How?''
+
+``Well, I was in my bare feet after I got
+undressed--before you came up-stairs--mamma,
+an' I was kind of walkin' around in the hall--''
+
+``You shouldn't do that, Jane.''
+
+``No'm.  An' I heard Willie say somep'm kind
+of to himself, or like deckamation.  He was inside
+his room, but the door wasn't quite shut. 
+He started out once, but he went back for
+somep'm an' forgot to, I guess.  Anyway, I
+thought I better look an' see what was goin' on,
+mamma.  So I just kind of peeked in--''
+
+``But you shouldn't do that, dear,'' Mrs.
+Baxter said, musingly.  ``It isn't really quite
+honorable.''
+
+``No'm.  Well, what you think he was do-
+in'?''  (Here Jane's voice betrayed excitement
+and so did her eyes.)  ``He was standin' up
+there in papa's clo'es before the lookin'-glass, an'
+first he'd lean his head over on one side, an' then
+he'd lean it over on the other side, an' then he'd
+bark, mamma.''
+
+``He'd what?''
+
+`Yes'm!'' said Jane.  ``He'd give a little,
+teeny BARK, mamma--kind of like a puppy,
+mamma.''
+
+``What?'' cried Mrs. Baxter.
+
+``Yes'm, he did!'' Jane asserted.  ``He did it
+four or five times.  First he'd lean his head way
+over on his shoulder like this--look, mamma!--
+an' then he'd lean it way over the other shoulder,
+an' every time he'd do it he'd bark.  `Berp-
+werp!' he'd say, mamma, just like that, only not
+loud at all.  He said, `Berp-werp!  BERP-WERP-
+WERP!'  You could tell he meant it for barkin',
+but it wasn't very good, mamma.  What you
+think he meant, mamma?''
+
+``Heaven knows!'' murmured the astonished
+mother.
+
+``An' then,'' Jane continued, ``he quit barkin'
+all of a sudden, an' didn't lean his head over any
+more, an' commenced actin' kind of solemn, an'
+kind of whispered to himself.  I think he was
+kind of pretendin' he was talkin' to Miss Pratt,
+or at a party, maybe.  Anyways, he spoke out
+loud after while not just exactly LOUD, I mean,
+but anyway so's 't I could hear what he said. 
+Mamma--he said, `Oh, my baby-talk lady!' just
+like that, mamma.  Listen, mamma, here's the
+way he said it:  `Oh, my baby-talk lady!' ''
+
+Jane's voice, in this impersonation, became
+sufficiently soft and tremulous to give Mrs. Baxter
+a fair idea of the tender yearning of the original. 
+`` `OH, MY BABY-TALK LADY!' '' cooed the terrible Jane.
+
+``Mercy!'' Mrs. Baxter exclaimed.  ``Perhaps
+it's no wonder Mr. Parcher--''  She broke off
+abruptly, then inquired, ``What did he do next,
+Jane?''
+
+``Next,'' said Jane, ``he put the light out, an' I
+had to--well, I just waited kind of squeeged up
+against the wall, an' he never saw me.  He went
+on out to the back stairs, an' went down the
+stairs tiptoe, mamma.  You know what I think,
+mamma?  I think he goes out that way an'
+through the kitchen on account of papa's clo'es.''
+
+Mrs. Baxter paused, with her hand upon the
+key of the shaded electric lamp.  ``I suppose so,''
+she said.  ``I think perhaps--''  For a moment
+or two she wrapped herself in thought.  ``Perhaps''--
+she repeated, musingly--``perhaps we'll
+keep this just a secret between you and me for a
+little while, Jane, and not say anything to papa
+about the clothes.  I don't think it will hurt
+them, and I suppose Willie feels they give him a
+great advantage over the other boys--and papa
+uses them so very little, especially since he's
+grown a wee bit stouter.  Yes, it will be our
+secret, Jane.  We'll think it over till to-morrow.''
+
+``Yes'm.''
+
+Mrs. Baxter turned out the light, then came
+and kissed Jane in the dark.  ``Good night,
+dear.''
+
+``G' night, mamma.''  But as Mrs. Baxter
+reached the door Jane's voice was heard again.
+
+``Mamma?''
+
+``Yes?'' Mrs. Baxter paused.
+
+``Mamma,'' Jane said, slowly, ``I think--I
+think Mr. Parcher is a very nice man.  Mamma?''
+
+``Yes, dear?''
+
+``Mamma, what do you s'pose Willie barked at
+the lookin'-glass for?''
+
+``That,'' said Mrs. Baxter, ``is beyond me. 
+Young people and children do the strangest
+things, Jane!  And then, when they get to be
+middle-aged, they forget all those strange things
+they did, and they can't understand what the
+new young people--like you and Willie mean
+by the strange things THEY do.''
+
+``Yes'm.  I bet _I_ know what he was barkin'
+for, mamma.''
+
+``Well?''
+
+``You know what I think?  I think he was
+kind of practisin'.  I think he was practisin' how
+to bark at Mr. Parcher.''
+
+``No, no!'' Mrs. Baxter laughed.  ``Who ever
+could think of such a thing but you, Jane! 
+You go to sleep and forget your nonsense!''
+
+Nevertheless, Jane might almost have been
+gifted with clairvoyance, her preposterous idea
+came so close to the actual fact, for at that very
+moment William was barking.  He was not
+barking directly at Mr. Parcher, it is true, but
+within a short distance of him and all too well
+within his hearing.
+
+
+
+X
+
+MR. PARCHER AND LOVE
+
+Mr. Parcher, that unhappy gentleman,
+having been driven indoors from his own
+porch, had attempted to read Plutarch's Lives in
+the library, but, owing to the adjacency of the
+porch and the summer necessity for open windows,
+his escape spared only his eyes and not his
+suffering ears.  The house was small, being but
+half of a double one, with small rooms, and the
+``parlor,'' library, and dining-room all about
+equally exposed to the porch which ran along the
+side of the house.  Mr. Parcher had no refuge
+except bed or the kitchen, and as he was troubled
+with chronic insomnia, and the cook had callers in
+the kitchen, his case was desperate.  Most
+unfortunately, too, his reading-lamp, the only one in
+the house, was a fixture near a window, and just
+beyond that window sat Miss Pratt and William
+in sweet unconsciousness, while Miss Parcher
+entertained the overflow (consisting of Mr.
+Johnnie Watson) at the other end of the porch. 
+Listening perforce to the conversation of the
+former couple though ``conversation'' is far
+from the expression later used by Mr. Parcher to
+describe what he heard--he found it impossible
+to sit still in his chair.  He jerked and twitched
+with continually increasing restlessness;
+sometimes he gasped, and other times he moaned a
+little, and there were times when he muttered
+huskily.
+
+``Oh, cute-ums!'' came the silvery voice of Miss
+Pratt from the likewise silvery porch outside,
+underneath the summer moon.  ``Darlin' Flopit,
+look!  Ickle boy Baxter goin' make imitations of
+darlin' Flopit again.  See!  Ickle boy Baxter
+puts head one side, then other side, just like
+darlin' Flopit.  Then barks just like darlin' Flopit! 
+Ladies and 'entlemen, imitations of darlin' Flopit
+by ickle boy Baxter.''
+
+``Berp-werp!  Berp-werp!'' came the voice of
+William Sylvanus Baxter.
+
+And in the library Plutarch's Lives moved
+convulsively, while with writhing lips Mr. Parcher
+muttered to himself.
+
+``More, more!'' cried Miss Pratt, clapping her
+hands.  ``Do it again, ickle boy Baxter!''
+
+``Berp-werp!  Berp-werp-werp!''
+
+``WORD!'' muttered Mr. Parcher.
+
+Miss Pratt's voice became surcharged with
+honeyed wonder.  ``How did he learn such marv'lous,
+MARV'LOUS imitations of darlin' Flopit?  He
+ought to go on the big, big stage and be a really
+actor, oughtn't he, darlin' Flopit?  He could
+make milyums and milyums of dollardies,
+couldn't he, darlin' Flopit?''
+
+William's modest laugh disclaimed any great
+ambition for himself in this line.  ``Oh, I always
+could think up imitations of animals; things like
+that--but I hardly would care to--to adop' the
+stage for a career.  Would--you?''  (There was a
+thrill in his voice when he pronounced the
+ineffably significant word ``you.'')
+
+Miss Pratt became intensely serious.
+
+``It's my DREAM!'' she said.
+
+William, seated upon a stool at her feet, gazed
+up at the amber head, divinely splashed by the
+rain of moonlight.  The fire with which she spoke
+stirred him as few things had ever stirred him. 
+He knew she had just revealed a side of herself
+which she reserved for only the chosen few who
+were capable of understanding her, and he fell into
+a hushed rapture.  It seemed to him that there
+was a sacredness about this moment, and he sought
+vaguely for something to say that would live up
+to it and not be out of keeping.  Then, like an
+inspiration, there came into his head some words
+he had read that day and thought beautiful.  He
+had found them beneath an illustration in a
+magazine, and he spoke them almost instinctively.
+
+``It was wonderful of you to say that to me,''
+he said.  ``I shall never forget it!''
+
+``It's my DREAM!'' Miss Pratt exclaimed, again,
+with the same enthusiasm.  ``It's my DREAM.''
+
+``You would make a glorious actress!'' he said.
+
+At that her mood changed.  She laughed a laugh
+like a sweet little girl's laugh (not Jane's) and,
+setting her rocking-chair in motion, cuddled the
+fuzzy white doglet in her arms.  ``Ickle boy
+Baxter t'yin' flatterbox us, tunnin' Flopit!  No'ty,
+no'ty flatterbox!''
+
+``No, no!'' William insisted, earnestly.  ``I mean
+it.  But--but--''
+
+``But whatcums?''
+
+``What do you think about actors and actresses
+making love to each other on the stage?  Do you
+think they have to really feel it, or do they just
+pretend?''
+
+``Well,'' said Miss Pratt, weightily, ``sometimes
+one way, sometimes the other.''
+
+William's gravity became more and more
+profound.  ``Yes, but how can they pretend like
+that?  Don't you think love is a sacred thing,
+Cousin Lola?''
+
+Fictitious sisterships, brotherships, and cousin- 
+ships are devices to push things along, well known
+to seventeen and even more advanced ages.  On
+the wonderful evening of their first meeting
+William and Miss Pratt had cozily arranged to
+be called, respectively, ``Ickle boy Baxter'' and
+``Cousin Lola.''  (Thus they had broken down
+the tedious formalities of their first twenty
+minutes together.)
+
+``Don't you think love is sacred?'' he repeated
+in the deepest tone of which his vocal cords were
+capable.
+
+``Ess,'' said Miss Pratt.
+
+``_I_ do!'' William was emphatic.  ``I think love
+is the most sacred thing there is.  I don't mean
+SOME kinds of love.  I mean REAL love.  You take
+some people, I don't believe they ever know what
+real love means.  They TALK about it, maybe, but
+they don't understand it.  Love is something
+nobody can understand unless they feel it and
+and if they don't understand it they don't feel
+it.  Don't YOU think so?''
+
+``Ess.''
+
+``Love,'' William continued, his voice lifting
+and thrilling to the great theme--``love is something
+nobody can ever have but one time in their
+lives, and if they don't have it then, why prob'ly
+they never will.  Now, if a man REALLY loves a girl,
+why he'd do anything in the world she wanted
+him to.  Don't YOU think so?''
+
+``Ess, 'deedums!'' said the silvery voice.
+
+``But if he didn't, then he wouldn't,'' said
+William vehemently.  ``But when a man really
+loves a girl he will.  Now, you take a man like
+that and he can generally do just about anything
+the girl he loves wants him to.  Say, f'rinstance,
+she wants him to love her even more than he does
+already--or almost anything like that--and supposin'
+she asks him to.  Well, he would go ahead
+and do it.  If they really loved each other he
+would!''
+
+He paused a moment, then in a lowered tone
+he said, ``I think REAL love is sacred, don't you?''
+
+``Ess.''
+
+``Don't you think love is the most sacred thing
+there is--that is, if it's REAL love?''
+
+``Ess.''
+
+``_I_ do,'' said William, warmly.  ``I--I'm glad
+you feel like that, because I think real love is the
+kind nobody could have but just once in their
+lives, but if it isn't REAL love, why--why most
+people never have it at all, because--''  He
+paused, seeming to seek for the exact phrase
+which would express his meaning.  ``--Because
+the REAL love a man feels for a girl and a girl for a
+man, if they REALLY love each other, and, you look
+at a case like that, of course they would BOTH love
+each other, or it wouldn't be real love well, what
+_I_ say is, if it's REAL love, well, it's--it's sacred,
+because I think that kind of love is always sacred. 
+Don't you think love is sacred if it's the real thing?''
+
+``Ess,'' said Miss Pratt.  ``Do Flopit again. 
+Be Flopit!''
+
+``Berp-werp!  Berp-werp-werp.''
+
+And within the library an agonized man
+writhed and muttered:
+
+``WORD!  WORD!  WORD--''
+
+This hoarse repetition had become almost
+continuous.
+
+. . . But out on the porch, that little, jasmine-
+scented bower in Arcady where youth cried to
+youth and golden heads were haloed in the moonshine,
+there fell a silence.  Not utter silence, for
+out there an ethereal music sounded constantly,
+unheard and forgotten by older ears.  Time was
+when the sly playwrights used ``incidental music''
+in their dramas; they knew that an audience
+would be moved so long as the music played;
+credulous while that crafty enchantment lasted. 
+And when the galled Mr. Parcher wondered how
+those young people out on the porch could listen
+to each other and not die, it was because he did
+not hear and had forgotten the music that throbs
+in the veins of youth.  Nevertheless, it may not
+be denied that despite his poor memory this man
+of fifty was deserving of a little sympathy.
+
+It was William who broke the silence.  ``How--''
+he began, and his voice trembled a little.  ``How
+--how do you--how do you think of me when I'm
+not with you?''
+
+``Think nice-cums,'' Miss Pratt responded. 
+``Flopit an' me think nice-cums.''
+
+``No,'' said William; ``I mean what name do
+you have for me when you're when you're
+thinking about me?''
+
+Miss Pratt seemed to be puzzled, perhaps
+justifiably, and she made a cooing sound of
+interrogation.
+
+``I mean like this,'' William explained.  
+``F'rinstance, when you first came, I always 
+thought of you as `Milady'--when I wrote that 
+poem, you know.''
+
+``Ess.  Boo'fums.''
+
+``But now I don't,'' he said.  ``Now I think
+of you by another name when I'm alone.  It--it
+just sort of came to me.  I was kind of just
+sitting around this afternoon, and I didn't know
+I was thinking about anything at all very much,
+and then all of a sudden I said it to myself out
+loud.  It was about as strange a thing as I ever
+knew of.  Don't YOU think so?''
+
+``Ess.  It uz dest WEIRD!'' she answered. 
+``What ARE dat pitty names?''
+
+``I called you,'' said William, huskily and
+reverently, ``I called you `My Baby-Talk Lady.' ''
+
+BANG!
+
+They were startled by a crash from within the
+library; a heavy weight seemed to have fallen
+(or to have been hurled) a considerable distance. 
+Stepping to the window, William beheld a large
+volume lying in a distorted attitude at the foot
+of the wall opposite to that in which the reading-
+lamp was a fixture.  But of all human life the
+room was empty; for Mr. Parcher had given up,
+and was now hastening to his bed in the last faint
+hope of saving his reason.
+
+His symptoms, however, all pointed to its
+having fled; and his wife, looking up from some
+computations in laundry charges, had but a
+vision of windmill gestures as he passed the door
+of her room.  Then, not only for her, but for the
+inoffensive people who lived in the other half of
+the house, the closing of his own door took place
+in a really memorable manner.
+
+William, gazing upon the fallen Plutarch, had
+just offered the explanation, ``Somebody must 'a'
+thrown it at a bug or something, I guess,'' when
+the second explosion sent its reverberations
+through the house.
+
+``My doodness!'' Miss Pratt exclaimed, jumping up.
+
+William laughed reassuringly, remaining calm. 
+``It's only a door blew shut up-stairs,'' he said
+``Let's sit down again--just the way we were?''
+
+Unfortunately for him, Mr. Joe Bullitt now
+made his appearance at the other end of the
+porch.  Mr. Bullitt, though almost a year younger
+than either William or Johnnie Watson, was of a
+turbulent and masterful disposition.  Moreover,
+in regard to Miss Pratt, his affections were in as
+ardent a state as those of his rivals, and he lacked
+Johnnie's meekness.  He firmly declined to be
+shunted by Miss Parcher, who was trying to favor
+William's cause, according to a promise he had
+won of her by strong pleading.  Regardless of her
+efforts, Mr. Bullitt descended upon William and
+his Baby-Talk-Lady, and received from the latter
+a honeyed greeting, somewhat to the former's
+astonishment and not at all to his pleasure.
+
+``Oh, goody-cute!'' cried Miss Pratt.  ``Here's
+big Bruvva Josie-Joe!'' And she lifted her little
+dog close to Mr. Bullitt's face, guiding one of
+Flopit's paws with her fingers.  ``Stroke big
+Bruvva Josie-Joe's pint teeks, darlin' Flopit.'' 
+(Josie-Joe's pink cheeks were indicated by the
+expression ``pint teeks,'' evidently, for her
+accompanying action was to pass Flopit's paw lightly
+over those glowing surfaces.)  `` 'At's nice!'' she
+remarked.  ``Stroke him gently, p'eshus Flopit,
+an' nen we'll coax him to make pitty singin' for
+us, like us did yestiday.''
+
+She turned to William.
+
+``COAX him to make pitty singin'?  I LOVE his
+voice--I'm dest CRAZY over it.  Isn't oo?''
+
+William's passion for Mr. Bullitt's voice
+appeared to be under control.  He laughed coldly,
+almost harshly.  ``Him sing?'' he said.  ``Has he
+been tryin' to sing around HERE?  I wonder the
+family didn't call for the police!''
+
+It was to be seen that Mr. Bullitt did not relish
+the sally.  ``Well, they will,'' he retorted, ``if you
+ever spring one o' your solos on 'em!''  And
+turning to Miss Pratt, he laughed loudly and
+bitterly.  ``You ought to hear Silly Bill sing--
+some time when you don't mind goin' to bed sick
+for a couple o' days!''
+
+Symptoms of truculence at once became alarmingly
+pronounced on both sides.  William was
+naturally incensed, and as for Mr. Bullitt, he
+had endured a great deal from William every
+evening since Miss Pratt's arrival.  William's
+evening clothes were hard enough for both Mr.
+Watson and Mr. Bullitt to bear, without any
+additional insolence on the part of the wearer. 
+Big Bruvva Josie-Joe took a step toward his
+enemy and breathed audibly.
+
+``Let's ALL sing,'' the tactful Miss Pratt proposed,
+hastily.  ``Come on, May and Cousin Johnnie-
+Jump-Up,'' she called to Miss Parcher and Mr.
+Watson.  ``Singin'-school, dirls an' boys! Singin'-
+school!  Ding, ding!  Singin'-school bell's a-wingin'!''
+
+The diversion was successful.  Miss Parcher
+and Mr. Watson joined the other group with alacrity,
+and the five young people were presently
+seated close together upon the steps of the porch,
+sending their voices out upon the air and up to
+Mr. Parcher's window in the song they found
+loveliest that summer.
+
+Miss Pratt carried the air.  William also carried
+it part of the time and hunted for it the rest of
+the time, though never in silence.  Miss Parcher
+``sang alto,'' Mr. Bullitt ``sang bass,'' and Mr.
+Watson ``sang tenor''--that is, he sang as high
+as possible, often making the top sound of a chord
+and always repeating the last phrase of each line
+before the others finished it.  The melody was a
+little too sweet, possibly; while the singers
+thought so highly of the words that Mr. Parcher
+missed not one, especially as the vocal rivalry
+between Josie-Joe and Ickle Boy Baxter incited
+each of them to prevent Miss Pratt from hearing
+the other.
+
+William sang loudest of all; Mr. Parcher had
+at no time any difficulty in recognizing his voice.
+
+     ``Oh, I love my love in the morning
+          And I love my love at night,
+     I love my love in the dawning,
+          And when the stars are bright.
+     Some may love the sunshine,
+          Others may love the dew.
+     Some may love the raindrops,
+          But I love only you-OO-oo!
+               By the stars up above
+               It is you I luh-HUV!
+          Yes, _I_ love own-LAY you!''
+
+
+They sang it four times; then Mr. Bullitt
+sang his solo, ``Tell her, O Golden Moon, how I
+Adore her,'' William following with ``The violate
+loves the cowslip, but _I_ love YEW,'' and after that
+they all sang, ``Oh, I love my love in the morning,''
+again.
+
+All this while that they sang of love, Mr.
+Parcher was moving to and fro upon his bed, not
+more than eighteen feet in an oblique upward-
+slanting line from the heads of the serenaders. 
+Long, long he tossed, listening to the young
+voices singing of love; long, long he thought of
+love, and many, many times he spoke of it aloud,
+though he was alone in the room.  And in thus
+speaking of it, he would give utterance to phrases
+and words probably never before used in
+connection with love since the world began.
+
+His thoughts, and, at intervals, his mutterings,
+continued to be active far into the night, long
+after the callers had gone, and though his household
+and the neighborhood were at rest, with
+never a katydid outside to rail at the waning
+moon.  And by a coincidence not more singular
+than most coincidences, it happened that at just
+about the time he finally fell asleep, a young lady
+at no great distance from him awoke to find her
+self thinking of him.
+
+
+
+XI
+
+BEGINNING A TRUE FRIENDSHIP
+
+This was Miss Jane Baxter.  She opened her
+eyes upon the new-born day, and her first
+thoughts were of Mr. Parcher.  That is, he was
+already in her mind when she awoke, a circumstance
+to be accounted for on the ground that his
+conversation, during her quiet convalescence in
+his library, had so fascinated her that in all
+likelihood she had been dreaming of him.  Then, too,
+Jane and Mr. Parcher had a bond in common,
+though Mr. Parcher did not know it.  Not without
+result had William repeated Miss Pratt's
+inquiry in Jane's hearing:  ``Who IS that curious
+child?''  Jane had preserved her sang-froid, but
+the words remained with her, for she was one of
+those who ponder and retain in silence.
+
+She thought almost exclusively of Mr. Parcher
+until breakfast-time, and resumed her thinking
+of him at intervals during the morning.  Then,
+in the afternoon, a series of quiet events not
+unconnected with William's passion caused her to
+think of Mr. Parcher more poignantly than ever;
+nor was her mind diverted to a different channel
+by another confidential conversation with her
+mother.  Who can say, then, that it was not by
+design that she came face to face with Mr.
+Parcher on the public highway at about five
+o'clock that afternoon?  Everything urges the
+belief that she deliberately set herself in his path.
+
+Mr. Parcher was walking home from his office,
+and he walked slowly, gulping from time to time,
+as he thought of the inevitable evening before
+him.  His was not a rugged constitution, and for
+the last fortnight or so he had feared that it was
+giving way altogether.  Each evening he felt
+that he was growing weaker, and sometimes he
+thought piteously that he might go away for a
+while.  He did not much care where, though what
+appealed to him most, curiously enough, was not
+the thought of the country, with the flowers and
+little birds; no, what allured him was the idea
+that perhaps he could find lodgment for a time
+in an Old People's Home, where the minimum
+age for inmates was about eighty.
+
+Walking more and more slowly, as he
+approached the dwelling he had once thought of as
+home, he became aware of a little girl in a
+checkered dress approaching him at a gait varied by
+the indifferent behavior of a barrel-hoop which
+she was disciplining with a stick held in her right
+hand.  When the hoop behaved well, she came
+ahead rapidly; when it affected to be intoxicated,
+which was most often its whim, she zigzagged
+with it, and gained little ground.  But all the
+while, and without reference to what went on
+concerning the hoop, she slowly and continuously
+fed herself (with her left hand) small, solemnly
+relished bites of a slice of bread-and-butter covered
+with apple sauce and powdered sugar.
+
+Mr. Parcher looked upon her, and he shivered
+slightly; for he knew her to be Willie Baxter's
+sister.
+
+Unaware of the emotion she produced in him,
+Jane checked her hoop and halted.
+
+``G'd afternoon, Mister Parcher,'' she said,
+gravely.
+
+``Good afternoon,'' he returned, without much
+spirit.
+
+Jane looked up at him trustfully and with a
+strange, unconscious fondness.  ``You goin' home
+now, Mr. Parcher?'' she asked, turning to walk
+at his side.  She had suspended the hoop over
+her left arm and transferred the bread-and-butter
+and apple sauce and sugar to her right, so that
+she could eat even more conveniently than
+before.
+
+``I suppose so,'' he murmured.
+
+``My brother Willie's been at your house all
+afternoon,'' she remarked.
+
+He repeated, ``I suppose so,'' but in a tone
+which combined the vocal tokens of misery and
+of hopeless animosity.
+
+``He just went home,'' said Jane.  ``I was 'cross
+the street from your house, but I guess he didn't
+see me.  He kept lookin' back at your house. 
+Miss Pratt was on the porch.''
+
+``I suppose so.''  This time it was a moan.
+
+Jane proceeded to give him some information. 
+``My brother Willie isn't comin' back to your
+house to-night, but he doesn't know it yet.''
+
+``What!'' exclaimed Mr. Parcher.
+
+``Willie isn't goin' to spend any more evenings
+at your house at all,'' said Jane, thoughtfully. 
+``He isn't, but he doesn't know it yet.''
+
+Mr. Parcher gazed fixedly at the wonderful
+child, and something like a ray of sunshine
+flickered over his seamed and harried face.  ``Are
+you SURE he isn't?'' he said.  ``What makes you
+think so?''
+
+``I know he isn't,'' said demure Jane.  ``It's
+on account of somep'm I told mamma.''
+
+And upon this a gentle glow began to radiate
+throughout Mr. Parcher.  A new feeling budded
+within his bosom; he was warmly attracted to
+Jane.  She was evidently a child to be cherished,
+and particularly to be encouraged in the line of
+conduct she seemed to have adopted.  He wished
+the Bullitt and Watson families each had a little
+girl like this.  Still, if what she said of William
+proved true, much had been gained and life might
+be tolerable, after all.
+
+``He'll come in the afternoons, I guess,'' said
+Jane.  ``But you aren't home then, Mr. Parcher,
+except late like you were that day of the Sunday-
+school class.  It was on account of what you
+said that day.  I told mamma.''
+
+``Told your mamma what?''
+
+``What you said.''
+
+Mr. Parcher's perplexity continued.  ``What
+about?''
+
+``About Willie.  YOU know!'' Jane smiled fraternally.
+
+``No, I don't.''
+
+``It was when I was layin' in the liberry, that
+day of the Sunday-school class,'' Jane told him. 
+``You an' Mrs. Parcher was talkin' in there about
+Miss Pratt an' Willie an' everything.''
+
+``Good heavens!'' Mr. Parcher, summoning his
+memory, had placed the occasion and Jane
+together.  ``Did you HEAR all that?''
+
+``Yes.''  Jane nodded.  ``I told mamma all
+what you said.''
+
+``Murder!''
+
+``Well,'' said Jane, ``I guess it's good I did,
+because look--that's the very reason mamma did
+somep'm so's he can't come any more except in
+daytime.  I guess she thought Willie oughtn't
+to behave so's't you said so many things about
+him like that; so to-day she did somep'm, an' now
+he can't come any more to behave that loving
+way of Miss Pratt that you said you would be in
+the lunatic asylum if he didn't quit.  But he
+hasn't found it out yet.''
+
+``Found what out, please?'' asked Mr. Parcher,
+feeling more affection for Jane every moment.
+
+``He hasn't found out he can't come back to
+your house to-night; an' he can't come back to-
+morrow night, nor day-after-to-morrow night,
+nor--''
+
+``Is it because your mamma is going to tell
+him he can't?''
+
+``No, Mr. Parcher.  Mamma says he's too old
+--an' she said she didn't like to, anyway.  She
+just DID somep'm.''
+
+``What?  What did she do?''
+
+``It's a secret,'' said Jane.  ``I could tell you
+the first part of it--up to where the secret
+begins, I expect.''
+
+``Do!'' Mr. Parcher urged.
+
+``Well, it's about somep'm Willie's been
+WEARIN','' Jane began, moving closer to him as
+they slowly walked onward.  ``I can't tell you
+what they were, because that's the secret--but
+he had 'em on him every evening when he came
+to see Miss Pratt, but they belong to papa, an'
+papa doesn't know a word about it.  Well, one
+evening papa wanted to put 'em on, because he
+had a right to, Mr. Parcher, an' Willie didn't
+have any right to at all, but mamma couldn't
+find 'em; an' she rummidged an' rummidged
+'most all next day an' pretty near every day since
+then an' never did find 'em, until don't you
+believe I saw Willie inside of 'em only last night! 
+He was startin' over to your house to see Miss
+Pratt in 'em!  So I told mamma, an' she said it 'd
+haf to be a secret, so that's why I can't tell you
+what they were.  Well, an' then this afternoon,
+early, I was with her, an' she said, long as I had
+told her the secret in the first place, I could come
+in Willie's room with her, an' we both were
+already in there anyway, 'cause I was kind of
+thinkin' maybe she'd go in there to look for 'em,
+Mr. Parcher--''
+
+``I see,'' he said, admiringly.  ``I see.''
+
+``Well, they were under Willie's window-seat,
+all folded up; an' mamma said she wondered
+what she better do, an' she was worried because
+she didn't like to have Willie behave so's you an'
+Mrs. Parcher thought that way about him.  So
+she said the--the secret--what Willie wears,
+you know, but they're really papa's an' aren't
+Willie's any more'n they're MINE--well, she said
+the secret was gettin' a little teeny bit too tight
+for papa, but she guessed they--I mean the
+secret--she said she guessed it was already pretty
+loose for Willie; so she wrapped it up, an' I went
+with her, an' we took 'em to a tailor, an' she told
+him to make 'em bigger, for a surprise for papa,
+'cause then they'll fit him again, Mr. Parcher. 
+She said he must make 'em a whole lot bigger. 
+She said he must let 'em way, WAY out!  So I
+guess Willie would look too funny in 'em after
+they're fixed; an' anyway, Mr. Parcher, the secret
+won't be home from the tailor's for two weeks,
+an' maybe by that time Miss Pratt'll be gone.''
+
+They had reached Mr. Parcher's gate; he
+halted and looked down fondly upon this child
+who seemed to have read his soul.  ``Do you
+honestly think so?'' he asked.
+
+``Well, anyway, Mr. Parcher,'' said Jane,
+``mamma said--well, she said she's sure Willie
+wouldn't come here in the evening any more
+when YOU're at home, Mr. Parcher--'cause after
+he'd been wearin' the secret every night this way
+he wouldn't like to come and not have the secret
+on.  Mamma said the reason he would feel like
+that was because he was seventeen years old.  An'
+she isn't goin' to tell him anything about it,
+Mr. Parcher.  She said that's the best way.''
+
+Her new friend nodded and seemed to agree. 
+``I suppose that's what you meant when you said
+he wasn't coming back but didn't know it yet?''
+
+``Yes, Mr. Parcher.''
+
+He rested an elbow upon the gate-post, gazing
+down with ever-increasing esteem.  ``Of course
+I know your last name,'' he said, ``but I'm afraid
+I've forgotten your other one.''
+
+``It's Jane.''
+
+``Jane,'' said Mr. Parcher, ``I should like to do
+something for you.''
+
+Jane looked down, and with eyes modestly
+lowered she swallowed the last fragment of the
+bread-and-butter and apple sauce and sugar
+which had been the constantly evanescent
+companion of their little walk together.  She was
+not mercenary; she had sought no reward.
+
+``Well, I guess I must run home,'' she said. 
+And with one lift of her eyes to his and a shy
+laugh--laughter being a rare thing for Jane--
+she scampered quickly to the corner and was
+gone.
+
+But though she cared for no reward, the
+extraordinary restlessness of William, that evening,
+after dinner, must at least have been of
+great interest to her.  He ascended to his own
+room directly from the table, but about twenty
+minutes later came down to the library, where
+Jane was sitting (her privilege until half after
+seven) with her father and mother.  William
+looked from one to the other of his parents and
+seemed about to speak, but did not do so.  Instead,
+he departed for the upper floor again and
+presently could be heard moving about energetically
+in various parts of the house, a remote
+thump finally indicating that he was doing something
+with a trunk in the attic.
+
+After that he came down to the library again
+and once more seemed about to speak, but did
+not.  Then he went up-stairs again, and came
+down again, and he was still repeating this process
+when Jane's time-limit was reached and she
+repaired conscientiously to her little bed.  Her
+mother came to hear her prayers and to turn out
+the light; and--when Mrs. Baxter had passed out
+into the hall, after that, Jane heard her speaking
+to William, who was now conducting what seemed
+to be excavations on a serious scale in his own
+room.
+
+``Oh, Willie, perhaps I didn't tell you, but--
+you remember I'd been missing papa's evening
+clothes and looking everywhere for days and
+days?''
+
+``Ye--es,'' huskily from William.
+
+``Well, I found them!  And where do you
+suppose I'd put them?  I found them under
+your window-seat.  Can you think of anything
+more absurd than putting them there and then
+forgetting it?  I took them to the tailor's to
+have them let out.  They were getting too tight
+for papa, but they'll be all right for him when the
+tailor sends them back.''
+
+What the stricken William gathered from this
+it is impossible to state with accuracy; probably
+he mixed some perplexity with his emotions. 
+Certainly he was perplexed the following evening
+at dinner.
+
+Jane did not appear at the table.  ``Poor
+child! she's sick in bed,'' Mrs. Baxter explained
+to her husband.  ``I was out, this afternoon, and
+she ate nearly ALL of a five-pound box of candy.''
+
+Both the sad-eyed William and his father
+were dumfounded.  ``Where on earth did she
+get a five-pound box of candy?'' Mr. Baxter
+demanded.
+
+``I'm afraid Jane has begun her first affair,''
+said Mrs. Baxter.  ``A gentleman sent it to her.''
+
+``What gentleman?'' gasped William.
+
+And in his mother's eyes, as they slowly came
+to rest on his in reply, he was aware of an
+inscrutability strongly remindful of that inscrutable
+look of Jane's.
+
+``Mr. Parcher,'' she said, gently.
+
+
+
+XII
+
+PROGRESS OF THE SYMPTOMS
+
+Mrs. BAXTER'S little stroke of diplomacy
+had gone straight to the mark,
+she was a woman of insight.  For every reason
+she was well content to have her son spend his
+evenings at home, though it cannot be claimed
+that his presence enlivened the household, his
+condition being one of strange, trancelike
+irascibility.  Evening after evening passed, while he
+sat dreaming painfully of Mr. Parcher's porch;
+but in the daytime, though William did not
+literally make hay while the sun shone, he at
+least gathered a harvest somewhat resembling
+hay in general character.
+
+Thus:
+
+One afternoon, having locked his door to
+secure himself against intrusion on the part of
+his mother or Jane, William seated himself
+at his writing-table, and from a drawer therein
+took a small cardboard box, which he uncovered,
+placing the contents in view before him upon
+the table.  (How meager, how chilling a word is
+``contents''!)  In the box were:
+
+A faded rose.
+
+Several other faded roses, disintegrated into
+leaves.
+
+Three withered ``four-leaf clovers.''
+
+A white ribbon still faintly smelling of violets.
+
+A small silver shoe-buckle.
+
+A large pearl button.
+
+A small pearl button.
+
+A tortoise-shell hair-pin.
+
+A cross-section from the heel of a small slipper.
+
+A stringy remnant, probably once an improvised
+wreath of daisies.
+
+Four or five withered dandelions.
+
+Other dried vegetation, of a nature now
+indistinguishable.
+
+William gazed reverently upon this junk of
+precious souvenirs; then from the inner pocket
+of his coat he brought forth, warm and crumpled,
+a lumpish cluster of red geranium blossoms, still
+aromatic and not quite dead, though naturally,
+after three hours of such intimate confinement,
+they wore an unmistakable look of suffering. 
+With a tenderness which his family had never
+observed in him since that piteous day in his
+fifth year when he tried to mend his broken doll,
+William laid the geranium blossoms in the cardboard
+box among the botanical and other relics.
+
+His gentle eyes showed what the treasures
+meant to him, and yet it was strange that they
+should have meant so much, because the source
+of supply was not more than a quarter of a mile
+distant, and practically inexhaustible.  Miss
+Pratt had now been a visitor at the Parchers'
+for something less than five weeks, but she
+had made no mention of prospective departure,
+and there was every reason to suppose that she
+meant to remain all summer.  And as any
+foliage or anything whatever that she touched,
+or that touched her, was thenceforth suitable for
+William's museum, there appeared to be some
+probability that autumn might see it so enlarged
+as to lack that rarity in the component items
+which is the underlying value of most collections.
+
+William's writing-table was beside an open
+window, through which came an insistent whirring,
+unagreeable to his mood; and, looking down
+upon the sunny lawn, he beheld three lowly
+creatures.  One was Genesis; he was cutting
+the grass.  Another was Clematis; he had
+assumed a transient attitude, curiously triangular,
+in order to scratch his ear, the while his anxious
+eyes never wavered from the third creature.
+
+This was Jane.  In one hand she held a little
+stack of sugar-sprinkled wafers, which she slowly
+but steadily depleted, unconscious of the
+increasingly earnest protest, at last nearing agony,
+in the eyes of Clematis.  Wearing unaccustomed
+garments of fashion and festivity, Jane stood, in
+speckless, starchy white and a blue sash, watching
+the lawn-mower spout showers of grass as the
+powerful Genesis easily propelled it along over
+lapping lanes, back and forth, across the yard.
+
+From a height of illimitable loftiness the owner
+of the cardboard treasury looked down upon the
+squat commonplaceness of those three lives. 
+The condition of Jane and Genesis and Clematis
+seemed almost laughably pitiable to him, the
+more so because they were unaware of it.  They
+breathed not the starry air that William breathed,
+but what did it matter to them?  The wretched
+things did not even know that they meant
+nothing to Miss Pratt!
+
+Clematis found his ear too pliable for any great
+solace from his foot, but he was not disappointed;
+he had expected little, and his thoughts were
+elsewhere.  Rising, he permitted his nose to follow
+his troubled eyes, with the result that it touched
+the rim of the last wafer in Jane's external
+possession.
+
+This incident annoyed William.  ``Look there!''
+he called from the window.  ``You mean to eat
+that cake after the dog's had his face on it?''
+
+Jane remained placid.  ``It wasn't his face.''
+
+``Well, if it wasn't his face, I'd like to know
+what--''
+
+``It wasn't his face,'' Jane repeated.  ``It was
+his nose.  It wasn't all of his nose touched it,
+either.  It was only a little outside piece of his
+nose.''
+
+``Well, are you going to eat that cake, I ask
+you?''
+
+Jane broke off a small bit of the wafer.  She
+gave the bit to Clematis and slowly ate what
+remained, continuing to watch Genesis and
+apparently unconscious of the scorching gaze from
+the window.
+
+``I never saw anything as disgusting as long
+as I've lived!'' William announced.  ``I wouldn't
+'a' believed it if anybody'd told me a sister of
+mine would eat after--''
+
+``I didn't,'' said Jane.  ``I like Clematis, anyway.''
+
+``Ye gods!'' her brother cried.  ``Do you think
+that makes it any better?  And, BY the WAY,'' he
+continued, in a tone of even greater severity, ``I'd
+a like to know where you got those cakes.  Where'd
+you get 'em, I'd just like to inquire?''
+
+``In the pantry.''  Jane turned and moved
+toward the house.  ``I'm goin' in for some more,
+now.''
+
+William uttered a cry; these little cakes were
+sacred.  His mother, growing curious to meet a
+visiting lady of whom (so to speak) she had
+heard much and thought more, had asked May
+Parcher to bring her guest for iced tea, that
+afternoon.  A few others of congenial age had been
+invited: there was to be a small matinee, in fact,
+for the honor and pleasure of the son of the house,
+and the cakes of Jane's onslaught were part of
+Mrs. Baxter's preparations.  There was no telling
+where Jane would stop; it was conceivable that
+Miss Pratt herself might go waferless.
+
+William returned the cardboard box to its
+drawer with reverent haste; then, increasing the
+haste, but dropping the reverence, he hied himself
+to the pantry with such advantage of longer
+legs that within the minute he and the wafers
+appeared in conjunction before his mother, who
+was arranging fruit and flowers upon a table in
+the ``living-room.''
+
+William entered in the stained-glass attitude
+of one bearing gifts.  Overhead, both hands
+supported a tin pan, well laden with small cakes and
+wafers, for which Jane was silently but repeatedly
+and systematically jumping.  Even under the
+stress of these efforts her expression was cool and
+collected; she maintained the self-possession that
+was characteristic of her.
+
+Not so with William; his cheeks were flushed,
+his eyes indignant.  ``You see what this child is
+doing?'' he demanded.  ``Are you going to let her
+ruin everything?''
+
+``Ruin?'' Mrs. Baxter repeated, absently, 
+refreshing with fair water a bowl of flowers upon
+the table.  ``Ruin?''
+
+``Yes, ruin!'' William was hotly emphatic,
+``If you don't do something with her it 'll all be
+ruined before Miss Pr--before they even get
+here!''
+
+Mrs. Baxter laughed.  ``Set the pan down,
+Willie.''
+
+``Set it DOWN?'' he echoed, incredulously
+``With that child in the room and grabbing
+like--''
+
+``There!'' Mrs. Baxter took the pan from him,
+placed it upon a chair, and with the utmost coolness
+selected five wafers and gave them to Jane. 
+``I'd already promised her she could have five
+more.  You know the doctor said Jane's digestion
+was the finest he'd ever misunderstood.  They
+won't hurt her at all, Willie.''
+
+This deliberate misinterpretation of his motives
+made it difficult for William to speak.  ``Do YOU
+think,'' he began, hoarsely, ``do you THINK--''
+
+``They're so small, too,'' Mrs. Baxter went on. 
+``SHE probably wouldn't be sick if she ate them
+all.''
+
+``My heavens!'' he burst forth.  ``Do you think
+I was worrying about--''  He broke off, unable to
+express himself save by a few gestures of despair. 
+Again finding his voice, and a great deal of it, he
+demanded:  ``Do you realize that Miss PRATT will
+be here within less than half an hour?  What do
+you suppose she'd think of the people of this
+town if she was invited out, expecting decent
+treatment, and found two-thirds of the cakes
+eaten up before she got there, and what was left
+of 'em all mauled and pawed over and crummy
+and chewed-up lookin' from some wretched
+CHILD?''  Here William became oratorical, but not
+with marked effect, since Jane regarded him with
+unmoved eyes, while Mrs. Baxter continued to
+be mildly preoccupied in arranging the table. 
+In fact, throughout this episode in controversy
+the ladies' party had not only the numerical but
+the emotional advantage.  Obviously, the
+approach of Miss Pratt was not to them what it
+was to William.  ``I tell you,'' he declaimed;--
+``yes, I tell you that it wouldn't take much
+of this kind of thing to make Miss Pratt think
+the people of this town were--well, it wouldn't
+take much to make her think the people of this
+town hadn't learned much of how to behave in
+society and were pretty uncilivized!''  He
+corrected himself .  ``Uncivilized!  And to think
+Miss Pratt has to find that out in MY house! 
+To think--''
+
+``Now, Willie,'' said Mrs. Baxter, gently,
+``you'd better go up and brush your hair again
+before your friends come.  You mustn't let yourself
+get so excited.''
+
+`` `Excited!' '' he cried, incredulously.  ``Do
+you think I'm EXCITED?  Ye gods!''
+He smote his hands together and, in his despair
+of her intelligence, would have flung himself
+down upon a chair, but was arrested half-way by
+simultaneous loud outcries from his mother and
+Jane.
+
+``Don't sit on the CAKES!'' they both screamed.
+
+Saving himself and the pan of wafers by a
+supreme contortion at the last instant, William
+decided to remain upon his feet.  ``What do I
+care for the cakes?'' he demanded, contemptuously,
+beginning to pace the floor.  ``It's the
+question of principle I'm talking about!  Do you
+think it's right to give the people of this town a
+poor name when strangers like Miss PRATT come
+to vis--''
+
+``Willie!'' His mother looked at him hopelessly. 
+``Do go and brush your hair.  If you
+could see how you've tousled it you would.''
+
+He gave her a dazed glance and strode from
+the room.
+
+Jane looked after him placidly.  ``Didn't he
+talk funny!'' she murmured.
+
+``Yes, dear,'' said Mrs. Baxter.  She shook her
+head and uttered the enigmatic words, ``They
+do.''
+
+``I mean Willie, mamma,'' said Jane.  ``If it's
+anything about Miss Pratt.  he always talks awful
+funny.  Don't you think Willie talks awful funny
+if it's anything about Miss Pratt, mamma?''
+
+``Yes, but--''
+
+``What, mamma?'' Jane asked as her mother
+paused.
+
+``Well--it happens.  People do get like that at
+his age, Jane.''
+
+``Does everybody?''
+
+``No, I suppose not everybody.  Just some.''
+
+Jane's interest was roused.  ``Well, do those
+that do, mamma,'' she inquired, ``do they all act
+like Willie?''
+
+``No,'' said Mrs. Baxter.  ``That's the trouble;
+you can't tell what's coming.''
+
+Jane nodded.  ``I think I know,'' she said. 
+``You mean Willie--''
+
+William himself interrupted her.  He returned
+violently to the doorway, his hair still tousled,
+and, standing upon the threshold, said, sternly:
+
+``What is that child wearing her best dress
+for?''
+
+``Willie!'' Mrs. Baxter cried.  ``Go brush your
+hair!''
+
+``I wish to know what that child is all dressed
+up for?'' he insisted.
+
+``To please you!  Don't you want her to look
+her best at your tea?''
+
+``I thought that was it!'' he cried, and upon
+this confirmation of his worst fears he did 
+increased violence to his rumpled hair.  ``I
+suspected it, but I wouldn't 'a' believed it!  You
+mean to let this child--you mean to let--''  Here
+his agitation affected his throat and his utterance
+became clouded.  A few detached phrases fell
+from him:  ``--Invite MY friends--children's
+party--ye gods!--think Miss Pratt plays dolls--''
+
+``Jane will be very good,'' his mother said.  ``I
+shouldn't think of not having her, Willie, and
+you needn't bother about your friends; they'll be
+very glad to see her.  They all know her, except
+Miss Pratt, perhaps, and--''  Mrs. Baxter
+paused; then she asked, absently:  ``By the way,
+haven't I heard somewhere that she likes
+pretending to be a little girl, herself?''
+
+``WHAT!''
+
+``Yes,'' said Mrs. Baxter, remaining calm;
+``I'm sure I've heard somewhere that she likes
+to talk `baby-talk.' ''
+
+Upon this a tremor passed over William, after
+which he became rigid.  ``You ask a lady to your
+house,'' he began, ``and even before she gets here,
+before you've even seen her, you pass judgment
+upon one of the--one of the noblest--''
+
+``Good gracious!  _I_ haven't `passed judgment.' 
+If she does talk `baby-talk,' I imagine she does it
+very prettily, and I'm sure I've no objection. 
+And if she does do it, why should you be insulted
+by my mentioning it?''
+
+``It was the way you said it,'' he informed her,
+icily.
+
+``Good gracious!  I just said it!'' Mrs. Baxter
+laughed, and then, probably a little out of
+patience with him, she gave way to that innate
+mischievousness in such affairs which is not unknown
+to her sex.  ``You see, Willie, if she pretends to
+be a cunning little girl, it will be helpful to Jane
+to listen and learn how.''
+
+William uttered a cry; he knew that he was
+struck, but he was not sure how or where.  He
+was left with a blank mind and no repartee. 
+Again he dashed from the room.
+
+In the hall, near the open front door, he came
+to a sudden halt, and Mrs. Baxter and Jane heard
+him calling loudly to the industrious Genesis:
+
+``Here!  You go cut the grass in the back yard,
+and for Heaven's sake, take that dog with you!''
+
+``Grass awready cut roun' back,'' responded
+the amiable voice of Genesis, while the lawn-
+mower ceased not to whir.  ``Cut all 'at back yod
+'s mawnin'.''
+
+``Well, you can't cut the front yard now.  Go
+around in the back yard and take that dog with
+you.''
+
+``Nemmine 'bout 'at back yod!  Ole Clem ain'
+trouble nobody.''
+
+``You hear what I tell you?'' William shouted. 
+``You do what I say and you do it quick!''
+
+Genesis laughed gaily.  ``I got my grass to
+cut!''
+
+``You decline to do what I command you?''
+William roared.
+
+``Yes, indeedy!  Who pay me my wages?  'At's
+MY boss.  You' ma say, 'Genesis, you git all 'at
+lawn mowed b'fo' sundown.'  No, suh!  Nee'n'
+was'e you' bref on me, 'cause I'm got all MY time
+good an' took up!''
+
+Once more William presented himself fatefully
+to his mother and Jane.  ``May I just kindly ask
+you to look out in the front yard?''
+
+``I'm familiar with it, Willie,'' Mrs. Baxter
+returned, a little wearily.
+
+``I mean I want you to look at Genesis.''
+
+``I'm familiar with his appearance, too,'' she
+said.  ``Why in the world do you mind his cutting
+the grass?''
+
+William groaned.  ``Do you honestly want
+guests coming to this house to see that awful old
+darky out there and know that HE'S the kind of
+servants we employ?  Ye gods!''
+
+``Why, Genesis is just a neighborhood outdoors
+darky, Willie; he works for half a dozen
+families besides us.  Everybody in this part of
+town knows him.''
+
+``Yes,'' he cried, ``but a lady that didn't live
+here wouldn't.  Ye gods!  What do you suppose
+she WOULD think?  You know what he's got on!''
+
+``It's a sort of sleeveless jersey he wears, Willie,
+I think.''
+
+``No, you DON'T think that!'' he cried, with
+great bitterness.  ``You know it's not a jersey! 
+You know perfectly well what it is, and yet you
+expect to keep him out there when--when one of
+the one of the nobl--when my friends arrive! 
+And they'll think that's our DOG out there, won't
+they?  When intelligent people come to a house
+and see a dog sitting out in front, they think it's
+the family in the house's dog, don't they?'' 
+William's condition becoming more and more
+disordered, he paced the room, while his agony rose
+to a climax.  ``Ye gods!  What do you think Miss
+Pratt will think of the people of this town, when
+she's invited to meet a few of my friends and the
+first thing she sees is a nigger in his undershirt? 
+What 'll she think when she finds that child's
+eaten up half the food, and the people have to
+explain that the dog in the front yard belongs to
+the darky--''  He interrupted himself with a
+groan:  ``And prob'ly she wouldn't believe it. 
+Anybody'd SAY they didn't own a dog like that! 
+And that's what you want her to see, before she
+even gets inside the house!  Instead of a regular
+gardener in livery like we ought to have, and a
+bulldog or a good Airedale or a fox-hound, or
+something, the first things you want intelligent
+people from out of town to see are that awful old
+darky and his mongrel scratchin' fleas and like
+as not lettin' 'em get on other people!  THAT'd be
+nice, wouldn't it?  Go out to tea expecting decent
+treatment and get fl--''
+
+``WILLIE!''
+
+Mrs. Baxter managed to obtain his attention. 
+``If you'll go and brush your hair I'll
+send Genesis and Clematis away for the rest of
+the afternoon.  And then if you 'll sit down
+quietly and try to keep cool until your friends
+get here, I'll--''
+
+`` `Quietly'!'' he echoed, shaking his head over
+this mystery.  ``I'm the only one that IS quiet
+around here.  Things 'd be in a fine condition to
+receive guests if I didn't keep pretty cool, I
+guess!''
+
+``There, there,'' she said, soothingly.  ``Go and
+brush your hair.  And change your collar, Willie;
+it's all wilted.  I'll send Genesis away.''
+
+His wandering eye failed to meet hers with any
+intelligence.  ``Collar,'' he muttered, as if in
+soliloquy.  ``Collar.''
+
+``Change it!'' said Mrs. Baxter, raising her
+voice.  ``It's WILTED.''
+
+He departed in a dazed manner.
+
+Passing through the hall, he paused abruptly,
+his eye having fallen with sudden disapproval
+upon a large, heavily framed, glass-covered
+engraving, ``The Battle of Gettysburg,'' which
+hung upon the wall, near the front door.  Undeniably,
+it was a picture feeble in decorative
+quality; no doubt, too, William was right in
+thinking it as unworthy of Miss Pratt, as were
+Jane and Genesis and Clematis.  He felt that she
+must never see it, especially as the frame had
+been chipped and had a corner broken, but it was
+more pleasantly effective where he found it than
+where (in his nervousness) he left it.  A few
+hasty jerks snapped the elderly green cords by
+which it was suspended; then he laid the picture
+upon the floor and with his handkerchief made a
+curious labyrinth of avenues in the large oblong
+area of fine dust which this removal disclosed
+upon the wall.  Pausing to wipe his hot brow
+with the same implement, he remembered that
+some one had made allusions to his collar and
+hair, whereupon he sprang to the stairs, mounted
+two at a time, rushed into his own room, and
+confronted his streaked image in the mirror.
+
+
+
+XIII
+
+AT HOME TO HIS FRIENDS
+
+After ablutions, he found his wet hair plastic,
+and easily obtained the long, even sweep
+backward from the brow, lacking which no male
+person, unless bald, fulfilled his definition of a
+man of the world.  But there ensued a period of
+vehemence and activity caused by a bent collar-
+button, which went on strike with a desperation
+that was downright savage.  The day was warm
+and William was warmer; moisture bedewed him
+afresh.  Belated victory no sooner arrived than
+he perceived a fatal dimpling of the new collar,
+and was forced to begin the operation of exchanging
+it for a successor.  Another exchange, however,
+he unfortunately forgot to make: the
+handkerchief with which he had wiped the wall
+remained in his pocket.
+
+Voices from below, making polite laughter,
+warned him that already some of the bidden
+party had arrived, and, as he completed the
+fastening of his third consecutive collar, an
+ecstasy of sound reached him through the open
+window--and then, Oh then! his breath behaved
+in an abnormal manner and he began to tremble. 
+It was the voice of Miss Pratt, no less!
+
+He stopped for one heart-struck look from his
+casement.  All in fluffy white and heliotrope she
+was--a blonde rapture floating over the sidewalk
+toward William's front gate.  Her little white
+cottony dog, with a heliotrope ribbon round his
+neck, bobbed his head over her cuddling arm; a
+heliotrope parasol shielded her infinitesimally
+from the amorous sun.  Poor William!
+
+Two youths entirely in William's condition of
+heart accompanied the glamorous girl and hung
+upon her rose-leaf lips, while Miss Parcher
+appeared dimly upon the outskirts of the group,
+the well-known penalty for hostesses who entertain
+such radiance.  Probably it serves them right.
+
+To William's reddening ear Miss Pratt's voice
+came clearly as the chiming of tiny bells, for she
+spoke whimsically to her little dog in that tinkling
+childlike fashion which was part of the spell she
+cast.
+
+``Darlin' Flopit,'' she said, ``wake up!  Oo
+tummin' to tea-potty wiz all de drowed-ups. 
+P'eshus Flopit, wake up!''
+
+Dizzy with enchantment, half suffocated, his
+heart melting within him, William turned from
+the angelic sounds and fairy vision of the
+window.  He ran out of the room, and plunged down
+the front stairs.  And the next moment the crash
+of breaking glass and the loud thump-bump of a
+heavily falling human body resounded through
+the house.
+
+Mrs. Baxter, alarmed, quickly excused herself
+from the tea-table, round which were gathered
+four or five young people, and hastened to the
+front hall, followed by Jane.  Through the open
+door were seen Miss Pratt, Miss Parcher, Mr.
+Johnnie Watson and Mr. Joe Bullitt coming leisurely
+up the sunny front walk, laughing and unaware
+of the catastrophe which had just occurred
+within the shadows of the portal.  And at a little
+distance from the foot of the stairs William was
+seated upon the prostrate ``Battle of Gettysburg.''
+
+``It slid,'' he said, hoarsely.  ``I carried it
+upstairs with me''--he believed this--``and somebody
+brought it down and left it lying flat on
+the floor by the bottom step on purpose to trip
+me!  I stepped on it and it slid.''  He was in a
+state of shock: it seemed important to impress
+upon his mother the fact that the picture had
+not remained firmly in place when he stepped
+upon it.  ``It SLID, I tell you!''
+
+``Get up, Willie!'' she urged, under her breath,
+and as he summoned enough presence of mind to
+obey, she beheld ruins other than the wrecked
+engraving.  She stifled a cry.  ``WILLIE!  Did the
+glass cut you?''
+
+He felt himself.  ``No'm.''
+
+``It did your trousers!  You'll have to change
+them.  Hurry!''
+
+Some of William's normal faculties were
+restored to him by one hasty glance at the back of
+his left leg, which had a dismantled appearance. 
+A long blue strip of cloth hung there, with white
+showing underneath.
+
+``HURRY!'' said Mrs. Baxter.  And hastily gathering
+some fragments of glass, she dropped them
+upon the engraving, pushed it out of the way,
+and went forward to greet Miss Pratt and her
+attendants.
+
+As for William, he did not even pause to close
+his mouth, but fled with it open.  Upward he
+sped, unseen, and came to a breathless halt upon
+the landing at the top of the stairs.
+
+As it were in a dream he heard his mother's
+hospitable greetings at the door, and then the
+little party lingered in the hall, detained by Miss
+Pratt's discovery of Jane.
+
+``Oh, tweetums tootums ickle dirl!'' he heard
+the ravishing voice exclaim.  ``Oh, tootums ickle
+blue sash!''
+
+``It cost a dollar and eighty-nine cents,'' said
+Jane.  ``Willie sat on the cakes.''
+
+``Oh no, he didn't,'' Mrs. Baxter laughed.  ``He
+didn't QUITE!''
+
+``He had to go up-stairs,'' said Jane.  And as
+the stricken listener above smote his forehead,
+she added placidly, ``He tore a hole in his
+clo'es.''
+
+She seemed about to furnish details, her mood
+being communicative, but Mrs. Baxter led the
+way into the ``living-room''; the hall was vacated,
+and only the murmur of voices and laughter
+reached William.  What descriptive information
+Jane may have added was spared his hearing,
+which was a mercy.
+
+And yet it may be that he could not have felt
+worse than he did; for there IS nothing worse than
+to be seventeen and to hear one of the Noblest
+girls in the world told by a little child that you
+sat on the cakes and tore a hole in your clo'es.
+
+William leaned upon the banister railing and
+thought thoughts about Jane.  For several long,
+seething moments he thought of her exclusively. 
+Then, spurred by the loud laughter of rivals and
+the agony of knowing that even in his own
+house they were monopolizing the attention of
+one of the Noblest, he hastened into his own,
+room and took account of his reverses.
+
+Standing with his back to the mirror, he
+obtained over his shoulder a view of his trousers
+which caused him to break out in a fresh
+perspiration.  Again he wiped his forehead with the
+handkerchief, and the result was instantly visible
+in the mirror.
+
+The air thickened with sounds of frenzy, followed
+by a torrential roar and great sputterings
+in a bath-room, which tumult subsiding, William
+returned at a tragic gallop to his room and, having
+removed his trousers, began a feverish examination
+of the garments hanging in a clothes-
+closet.  There were two pairs of flannel trousers
+which would probably again be white and possible,
+when cleaned and pressed, but a glance
+showed that until then they were not to be
+considered as even the last resort of desperation. 
+Beside them hung his ``last year's summer suit''
+of light gray.
+
+Feverishly he brought it forth, threw off his
+coat, and then--deflected by another glance at
+the mirror--began to change his collar again. 
+This was obviously necessary, and to quicken
+the process he decided to straighten the bent
+collar-button.  Using a shoe-horn as a lever, he
+succeeded in bringing the little cap or head of the
+button into its proper plane, but, unfortunately,
+his final effort dislodged the cap from the rod
+between it and the base, and it flew off
+malignantly into space.  Here was a calamity; few
+things are more useless than a decapitated collar-
+button, and William had no other.  He had made
+sure that it was his last before he put it on, that
+day; also he had ascertained that there was none
+in, on, or about his father's dressing-table. 
+Finally, in the possession of neither William nor
+his father was there a shirt with an indigenous
+collar.
+
+For decades, collar-buttons have been on the
+hand-me-down shelves of humor; it is a mistake
+in the catalogue.  They belong to pathos.  They
+have done harm in the world, and there have
+been collar-buttons that failed when the destinies
+of families hung upon them.  There have been
+collar-buttons that thwarted proper matings. 
+There have been collar-buttons that bore last
+hopes, and, falling to the floor, NEVER were found! 
+William's broken collar-button was really the
+only collar-button in the house, except such as
+were engaged in serving his male guests below.
+
+At first he did not realize the extent of his
+misfortune.  How could he?  Fate is always
+expected to deal its great blows in the grand
+manner.  But our expectations are fustian
+spangled with pinchbeck; we look for tragedy
+to be theatrical.  Meanwhile, every day before
+our eyes, fate works on, employing for its
+instruments the infinitesimal, the ignoble and the
+petty--in a word, collar-buttons.
+
+Of course William searched his dressing-
+table and his father's, although he had been
+thoroughly over both once before that day.  Next
+he went through most of his mother's and Jane's
+accessories to the toilette; through trinket-boxes,
+glove-boxes, hairpin-boxes, handkerchief-cases--
+even through sewing-baskets.  Utterly he
+convinced himself that ladies not only use no collar-
+buttons, but also never pick them up and put
+them away among their own belongings.  How
+much time he consumed in this search is difficult
+to reckon;--it is almost impossible to believe
+that there is absolutely no collar-button in a
+house.
+
+And what William's state of mind had become
+is matter for exorbitant conjecture.  Jane,
+arriving at his locked door upon an errand, was
+bidden by a thick, unnatural voice to depart.
+
+``Mamma says, `What in mercy's name is the
+matter?' '' Jane called.  ``She whispered to me,
+`Go an' see what in mercy's name is the matter
+with Willie; an' if the glass cut him, after all; an'
+why don't he come down'; an' why don't you,
+Willie?  We're all havin' the nicest time!''
+
+``You g'way!'' said the strange voice within
+the room.  ``G'way!''
+
+``Well, did the glass cut you?''
+
+``No!  Keep quiet!  G'way!''
+
+``Well, are you EVER comin' down to your
+party?''
+
+``Yes, I am!  G'way!''
+
+Jane obeyed, and William somehow completed
+the task upon which he was engaged.  Genius
+had burst forth from his despair; necessity had
+become a mother again, and William's collar was
+in place.  It was tied there.  Under his necktie
+was a piece of string.
+
+He had lost count of time, but he was frantically
+aware of its passage; agony was in the
+thought of so many rich moments frittered away;
+up-stairs, while Joe Bullitt and Johnnie Watson
+made hay below.  And there was another spur
+to haste in his fear that the behavior of Mrs.
+Baxter might not be all that the guest of honor
+would naturally expect of William's mother. 
+As for Jane, his mind filled with dread; shivers
+passed over him at intervals.
+
+It was a dismal thing to appear at a ``party''
+(and that his own) in ``last summer's suit,'' but
+when he had hastily put it on and faced the
+mirror, he felt a little better--for three or four
+seconds.  Then he turned to see how the back of
+it looked.
+
+And collapsed in a chair, moaning.
+
+
+
+XIV
+
+TIME DOES FLY
+
+He remembered now what he had been too
+hurried to remember earlier.  He had worn
+these clothes on the previous Saturday, and,
+returning from a glorified walk with Miss Pratt,
+he had demonstrated a fact to which his near-
+demolition of the wafers, this afternoon, was
+additional testimony.  This fact, roughly stated,
+is that a person of seventeen, in love, is liable
+to sit down anywhere.  William had dreamily
+seated himself upon a tabouret in the library,
+without noticing that Jane had left her open
+paint-box there.  Jane had just been painting
+sunsets; naturally all the little blocks of color
+were wet, and the effect upon William's pale-
+gray trousers was marvelous--far beyond the
+capacity of his coat to conceal.  Collar-
+buttons and children's paint-boxes--those are the
+trolls that lie in wait!
+
+The gray clothes and the flannel trousers had
+been destined for the professional cleaner, and
+William, rousing himself from a brief stupor,
+made a piteous effort to substitute himself for
+that expert so far as the gray trousers were
+concerned.  He divested himself of them and brought
+water, towels, bath-soap, and a rubber bath-
+sponge to the bright light of his window; and;
+there, with touching courage and persistence,
+he tried to scrub the paint out of the cloth.  He
+obtained cloud studies and marines which would
+have interested a Post-Impressionist, but upon
+trousers they seemed out of place.
+
+There came one seeking and calling him again;
+raps sounded upon the door, which he had not
+forgotten to lock.
+
+``Willie,'' said a serious voice, ``mamma wants
+to know what in mercy's name is the matter! 
+She wants to know if you know for mercy's name
+what time it is!  She wants to know what in
+mercy's name you think they're all goin' to think! 
+She says--''
+
+``G'WAY!''
+
+``Well, she said I had to find out what in
+mercy's name you're doin', Willie.''
+
+``You tell her,'' he shouted, hoarsely--``tell her
+I'm playin' dominoes!  What's she THINK I'm
+doin'?''
+
+``I guess''--Jane paused, evidently to complete
+the swallowing of something--``I guess she
+thinks you're goin' crazy.  I don't like Miss
+Pratt, but she lets me play with that little dog. 
+It's name's Flopit!''
+
+``You go 'way from that door and stop bothering
+me,'' said William.  ``I got enough on my
+mind!''
+
+``Mamma looks at Miss Pratt,'' Jane remarked. 
+``Miss Pratt puts cakes in that Mr. Bullitt's
+mouth and Johnnie Watson's mouth, too.  She's
+awful.''
+
+William made it plain that these bulletins from
+the party found no favor with him.  He bellowed,
+``If you don't get away from that DOOR--''
+
+Jane was interested in the conversation, but
+felt that it would be better to return to the
+refreshment-table.  There she made use of her
+own conception of a whisper to place before
+her mother a report which was considered
+interesting and even curious by every one present;
+though, such was the courtesy of the little
+assembly, there was a general pretense of not
+hearing.
+
+``I told him,'' thus whispered Jane, ``an' he
+said, `You g'way from that door or I'll do
+somep'm'--he didn't say what, mamma.  He
+said, `What you think I'm doin'?  I'm playin'
+dominoes.'  He didn't mean he WAS playin'
+dominoes, mamma.  He just said he was.  I
+think maybe he was just lookin' in the lookin'-
+glass some more.''
+
+Mrs. Baxter was becoming embarrassed.  She
+resolved to go to William's room herself at the
+first opportunity; but for some time her
+conscientiousness as a hostess continued to occupy
+her at the table, and then, when she would have
+gone, Miss Pratt detained her by a roguish appeal
+to make Mr. Bullitt and Mr. Watson behave. 
+Both refused all nourishment except such as was
+placed in their mouths by the delicate hand of
+one of the Noblest, and the latter said that really
+she wanted to eat a little tweetie now and
+then herself, and not to spend her whole time
+feeding the Men.  For Miss Pratt had the
+same playfulness with older people that she had
+with those of her own age; and she elaborated
+her pretended quarrel with the two young gentlemen,
+taking others of the dazzled company into
+her confidence about it, and insisting upon
+``Mamma Batster's'' acting formally as judge
+to settle the difficulty.  However, having thus
+arranged matters, Miss Pratt did not resign the
+center of interest, but herself proposed a
+compromise: she would continue to feed Mr. Bullitt
+and Mr. Watson ``every other tweetie''--that is,
+each must agree to eat a cake ``all by him own
+self,'' after every cake fed to him.  So the
+comedietta went on, to the running accompaniment
+of laughter, with Mr. Bullitt and Mr.
+Watson swept by such gusts of adoration they
+were like to perish where they sat.  But Mrs.
+Baxter's smiling approval was beginning to be
+painful to the muscles of her face, for it was
+hypocritical.  And if William had known her
+thoughts about one of the Noblest, he could only
+have attributed them to that demon of groundless
+prejudice which besets all females, but most
+particularly and outrageously the mothers and
+sisters of Men.
+
+A colored serving-maid entered with a laden
+tray, and, having disposed of its freight of bon-
+bons among the guests, spoke to Mrs. Baxter in
+a low voice.
+
+``Could you manage step in the back hall a
+minute, please, ma'am?''
+
+Mrs. Baxter managed and, having closed the
+door upon the laughing voices, asked, quickly--
+``What is it, Adelia?  Have you seen Mr. William? 
+Do you know why he doesn't come down?''
+
+``Yes'm,'' said Adelia.  ``He gone mighty near
+out his head, Miz Baxter.''
+
+``What!''
+
+``Yes'm.  He come floppin' down the back
+stairs in his baf-robe li'l' while ago.  He jes'
+gone up again.  He 'ain't got no britches, Miz
+Baxter.''
+
+``No WHAT?''
+
+``No'm,'' said Adelia.  ``He 'ain't got no
+britches at all.''
+
+A statement of this kind is startling under
+Almost any circumstances, and it is unusually so
+when made in reference to a person for whom a
+party is being given.  Therefore it was not
+unreasonable of Mrs. Baxter to lose her breath.
+
+``But--it can't BE!'' she gasped.  ``He has! 
+He has plenty!''
+
+``No'm, he 'ain't,'' Adelia assured her.  ``An'
+he's carryin' on so I don't scarcely think he
+knows much what he's doin', Miz Baxter.  He
+brung down some gray britches to the kitchen
+to see if I couldn' press an' clean 'em right quick:
+they was the ones Miss Jane, when she's paintin'
+all them sunsets, lef' her paint-box open, an' one
+them sunsets got on these here gray britches,
+Miz Baxter; an' hones'ly, Miz Baxter, he's fixed
+'em in a condishum, tryin' to git that paint out,
+I don't believe it 'll be no use sendin' 'em to the
+cleaner.  `Clean 'em an' press 'em QUICK?' I says. 
+`I couldn' clean 'em by Resurreckshum, let alone
+pressin' 'em!'  No'm!  Well, he had his blue
+britches, too, but they's so ripped an' tore an'
+kind o' shredded away in one place, the cook she
+jes' hollered when he spread 'em out, an' he
+didn' even ast me could I mend 'em.  An' he
+had two pairs o' them white flannen britches, but
+hones'ly, Miz Baxter, I don't scarcely think
+Genesis would wear 'em, the way they is now! 
+`Well,' I says, `ain't but one thing lef' to do _I_ can
+see,' I says.  `Why don't you go put on that
+nice black suit you had las' winter?' ''
+
+``Of course!'' Mrs. Baxter cried.  ``I'll go
+and--''
+
+``No'm,'' said Adelia.  ``You don' need to. 
+He's up in the attic now, r'arin' roun' 'mongs'
+them trunks, but seem to me like I remember
+you put that suit away under the heavy blankets
+in that big cedar ches' with the padlock.  If you
+jes' tell me where is the key, I take it up to him.''
+
+``Under the bureau in the spare room,'' said
+Mrs. Baxter.  ``HURRY!''
+
+Adelia hurried; and, fifteen minutes later,
+William, for the last time that afternoon, surveyed
+himself in his mirror.  His face showed the
+strain that had been upon him and under which
+he still labored; the black suit was a map of
+creases, and William was perspiring more freely
+than ever under the heavy garments.  But at
+least he was clothed.
+
+He emptied his pockets, disgorging upon the
+floor a multitude of small white spheres, like
+marbles.  Then, as he stepped out into the hall,
+he discovered that their odor still remained about
+him; so he stopped and carefully turned his
+pockets inside out, one after the other, but finding
+that he still smelled vehemently of the ``moth-
+balls,'' though not one remained upon him, he
+went to his mother's room and sprinkled violet
+toilet-water upon his chest and shoulders.  He
+disliked such odors, but that left by the moth-
+balls was intolerable, and, laying hands upon a
+canister labeled ``Hyacinth,'' he contrived to pour
+a quantity of scented powder inside his collar,
+thence to be distributed by the force of gravity
+so far as his dampness permitted.
+
+Lo, William was now ready to go to his party! 
+Moist, wilted, smelling indeed strangely, he was
+ready.
+
+But when he reached the foot of the stairs he
+discovered that there was one thing more to be
+done.  Indignation seized him, and also a creeping
+fear chilled his spine, as he beheld a lurking
+shape upon the porch, stealthily moving toward
+the open door.  It was the lowly Clematis, dog
+unto Genesis.
+
+William instantly divined the purpose of
+Clematis.  It was debatable whether Clematis
+had remained upon the premises after the
+departure of Genesis, or had lately returned thither
+upon some errand of his own, but one thing was
+certain, and the manner of Clematis--his attitude,
+his every look, his every gesture--made
+it as clear as day.  Clematis had discovered, by
+one means or another, the presence of Flopit in
+the house, and had determined to see him personally.
+
+Clematis wore his most misleading expression;
+a stranger would have thought him shy and
+easily turned from his purpose--but William was
+not deceived.  He knew that if Clematis meant
+to see Flopit, a strong will, a ready brain, and
+stern action were needed to thwart him; but
+at all costs that meeting must be prevented. 
+Things had been awful enough, without that!
+
+He was well aware that Clematis could not be
+driven away, except temporarily, for nothing was
+further fixed upon Clematis than his habit of
+retiring under pressure, only to return and return
+again.  True, the door could have been shut in
+the intruder's face, but he would have sought
+other entrance with possible success, or, failing
+that, would have awaited in the front yard the
+dispersal of the guests and Flopit's consequent
+emerging.  This was a contretemps not to be
+endured.
+
+The door of the living-room was closed, muffling
+festal noises and permitting safe passage
+through the hall.  William cast a hunted look
+over his shoulder; then he approached Clematis.
+
+``Good ole doggie,'' he said, huskily.  ``Hyuh,
+Clem!  Hyuh, Clem!''
+
+Clematis moved sidelong, retreating with his
+head low and his tail denoting anxious thoughts.
+
+``Hyuh, Clem!'' said William, trying, with
+only fair success, to keep his voice from sounding
+venomous.  ``Hyuh, Clem!''
+
+Clematis continued his deprecatory retreat.
+
+Thereupon William essayed a ruse--he pretended
+to nibble at something, and then extended
+his hand as if it held forth a gift of food.  ``Look,
+Clem,'' he said.  ``Yum-yum!  Meat, Clem! 
+Good meat!''
+
+For once Clematis was half credulous.  He did
+not advance, but he elongated himself to investigate
+the extended hand, and the next instant
+found himself seized viciously by the scruff of
+the neck.  He submitted to capture in absolute
+silence.  Only the slightest change of countenance
+betrayed his mortification at having been
+found so easy a gull; this passed, and a look
+of resolute stoicism took its place.
+
+He refused to walk, but offered merely nominal
+resistance, as a formal protest which he wished
+to be of record, though perfectly understanding
+that it availed nothing at present.  William
+dragged him through the long hall and down a
+short passageway to the cellar door.  This he
+opened, thrust Clematis upon the other side of it,
+closed and bolted it.
+
+Immediately a stentorian howl raised blood-
+curdling echoes and resounded horribly through
+the house.  It was obvious that Clematis
+intended to make a scene, whether he was present
+at it or not.  He lifted his voice in sonorous
+dolor, stating that he did not like the cellar
+and would continue thus to protest as long as
+he was left in it alone.  He added that he was
+anxious to see Flopit and considered it an
+unexampled outrage that he was withheld from the
+opportunity.
+
+Smitten with horror, William reopened the
+door and charged down the cellar stairs after
+Clematis, who closed his caitiff mouth and gave
+way precipitately.  He fled from one end of the
+cellar to the other and back, while William
+pursued; choking, and calling in low, ferocious tones:
+``Good doggie!  Good ole doggie!  Hyuh, Clem! 
+Meat, Clem, meat--''
+
+There was dodging through coal-bins; there
+was squirming between barrels; there was high
+jumping and broad jumping, and there was a final
+aspiring but baffled dash for the top of the cellar
+stairs, where the door, forgotten by William,
+stood open.  but it was here that Clematis,
+after a long and admirable exhibition of ingenuity,
+no less than agility, submitted to capture. 
+That is to say, finding himself hopelessly pinioned,
+he resumed the stoic.
+
+Grimly the panting and dripping William
+dragged him through the kitchen, where the cook
+cried out unintelligibly, seeming to summon
+Adelia, who was not present.  Through the back
+yard went captor and prisoner, the latter now
+maintaining a seated posture--his pathetic 
+conception of dignity under duress.  Finally, into
+a small shed or tool-house, behind Mrs. Baxter's
+flower-beds, went Clematis in a hurried and
+spasmodic manner.  The instant the door slammed
+he lifted his voice--and was bidden to use it now
+as much as he liked.
+
+Adelia, with a tray of used plates, encountered
+the son of the house as he passed through the
+kitchen on his return, and her eyes were those of
+one who looks upon miracles.
+
+William halted fiercely.
+
+``What's the matter?'' he demanded.  ``Is
+my face dirty?''
+
+``You mean, are it too dirty to go in yonduh
+to the party?'' Adelia asked, slowly.  ``No, suh;
+you look all right to go in there.  You lookin'
+jes' fine to go in there now, Mist' Willie!''
+
+Something in her tone struck him as peculiar,
+even as ominous, but his blood was up--he would
+not turn back now.  He strode into the hall and
+opened the door of the ``living-room.''
+
+Jane was sitting on the floor, busily painting
+sunsets in a large blank-book which she had
+obtained for that exclusive purpose.
+
+She looked up brightly as William appeared in
+the doorway, and in answer to his wild gaze she
+said:
+
+``I got a little bit sick, so mamma told me
+to keep quiet a while.  She's lookin' for you all
+over the house.  She told papa she don't know
+what in mercy's name people are goin' to think
+about you, Willie.''
+
+The distraught youth strode to her.  ``The
+party--'' he choked.  ``WHERE--''
+
+``They all stayed pretty long,'' said Jane,
+``but the last ones said they had to go home to
+their dinners when papa came, a little while ago. 
+Johnnie Watson was carryin' Flopit for that
+Miss Pratt.''
+
+William dropped into the chair beside which
+Jane had established herself upon the floor. 
+Then he uttered a terrible cry and rose.
+
+Again Jane had painted a sunset she had not
+intended.
+
+
+
+XV
+
+ROMANCE OF STATISTICS
+
+On a warm morning, ten days later, William
+stood pensively among his mother's flower-
+beds behind the house, his attitude denoting a
+low state of vitality.  Not far away, an aged
+negro sat upon a wheelbarrow in the hot sun,
+tremulously yet skilfully whittling a piece of
+wood into the shape of a boat, labor more to his
+taste, evidently, than that which he had abandoned
+at the request of Jane.  Allusion to this
+preference for a lighter task was made by Genesis,
+who was erecting a trellis on the border of the
+little garden.
+
+``Pappy whittle all day,'' he chuckled.  ``Whittle
+all night, too!  Pappy, I thought you 'uz
+goin' to git 'at long bed all spade' up fer me by
+noon.  Ain't 'at what you tole me?''
+
+``You let him alone, Genesis,'' said Jane, who
+sat by the old man's side, deeply fascinated. 
+``There's goin' to be a great deal of rain in the
+next few days.  maybe, an' I haf to have this boat
+ready.''
+
+The aged darky lifted his streaky and diminished
+eyes to the burnished sky, and laughed. 
+``Rain come some day, anyways,'' he said.  ``We
+git de boat ready 'fo' she fall, dat sho.''  His
+glance wandered to William and rested upon him
+with feeble curiosity.  ``Dat ain' yo' pappy, is
+it?'' he asked Jane.
+
+``I should say it isn't!'' she exclaimed.  ``It's
+Willie.  He was only seventeen about two or
+three months ago, Mr. Genesis.''  This was not
+the old man's name, but Jane had evolved it,
+inspired by respect for one so aged and so kind
+about whittling.  He was the father of Genesis,
+and the latter, neither to her knowledge nor to
+her imagination, possessed a surname.
+
+``I got cat'rack in my lef' eye,'' said Mr.
+Genesis, ``an' de right one, she kine o' tricksy,
+too.  Tell black man f'um white man, little f'um
+big.''
+
+``I'd hate it if he was papa,'' said Jane,
+confidentially.  ``He's always cross about somep'm,
+because he's in love.''  She approached her
+mouth to her whittling friend's ear and continued
+in a whisper:  ``He's in love of Miss Pratt. 
+She's out walkin' with Joe Bullitt.  I was in the
+front yard with Willie, an' we saw 'em go by. 
+He's mad.''
+
+William did not hear her.  Moodily, he had
+discovered that there was something amiss with
+the buckle of his belt, and, having ungirded
+himself, he was biting the metal tongue of the
+buckle in order to straighten it.  This fell under
+the observation of Genesis, who remonstrated.
+
+``You break you' teef on 'at buckle,'' he said.
+
+``No, I won't, either,'' William returned,
+crossly.
+
+``Ain' my teef,'' said Genesis.  ``Break 'em,
+you want to!''
+
+The attention of Mr. Genesis did not seem to be
+attracted to the speakers; he continued his whittling
+in a craftsman-like manner, which brought
+praise from Jane.
+
+``You can see to whittle, Mr. Genesis,'' she
+said.  ``You whittle better than anybody in the
+world.''
+
+``I speck so, mebbe,'' Mr. Genesis returned,
+with a little complacency.  ``How ole yo' pappy?''
+
+``Oh, he's OLD!'' Jane explained.
+
+William deigned to correct her.  ``He's not
+old, he's middle-aged.''
+
+``Well, suh,'' said Mr. Genesis, ``I had three
+chillum 'fo' I 'uz twenty.  I had two when I 'uz
+eighteem.''
+
+William showed sudden interest.  ``You did!''
+he exclaimed.  ``How old were you when you
+had the first one?''
+
+``I 'uz jes' yo' age,'' said the old man.  ``I 'uz
+seventeem.''
+
+``By George!'' cried William.
+
+Jane seemed much less impressed than William,
+seventeen being a long way from ten,
+though, of course, to seventeen itself hardly any
+information could be imagined as more interesting
+than that conveyed by the words of the aged
+Mr. Genesis.  The impression made upon William
+was obviously profound and favorable.
+
+``By George!'' he cried again.
+
+``Genesis he de youngis' one,'' said the old
+man.  ``Genesis he 'uz bawn when I 'uz sixty-one.''
+
+William moved closer.  ``What became of the
+one that was born when you were seventeen?''
+he asked.
+
+``Well, suh,'' said Mr. Genesis, ``I nev' did
+know.''
+
+At this, Jane's interest equaled William's. 
+Her eyes consented to leave the busy hands
+of the aged darky, and, much enlarged, rose to
+his face.  After a little pause of awe and
+sympathy she inquired:
+
+``Was it a boy or a girl?''
+
+The old man deliberated within himself. 
+``Seem like it mus' been a boy.''
+
+``Did it die?'' Jane asked, softly.
+
+``I reckon it mus' be dead by now,'' he
+returned, musingly.  ``Good many of 'em dead:
+what I KNOWS is dead.  Yes'm, I reckon so.''
+
+``How old were you when you were married?''
+William asked, with a manner of peculiar 
+earnestness;--it was the manner of one who 
+addresses a colleague.
+
+``Me?  Well, suh, dat 'pen's.''  He seemed to
+search his memory.  ``I rickalect I 'uz ma'ied
+once in Looavle,'' he said.
+
+Jane's interest still followed the first child. 
+``Was that where it was born, Mr. Genesis?'' she
+asked.
+
+He looked puzzled, and paused in his whittling
+to rub his deeply corrugated forehead.  ``Well,
+suh, mus' been some bawn in Looavle.  Genesis,''
+he called to his industrious son, ``whaih 'uz YOU
+bawn?''
+
+``Right 'n 'is town,'' laughed Genesis.  ``You
+fergit a good deal, pappy, but I notice you don'
+fergit come to meals!''
+
+The old man grunted, resuming his whittling
+busily.  ``Hain' much use,'' he complained. 
+``Cain' eat nuff'm 'lessen it all gruelly.  Man
+cain' eat nuff'm 'lessen he got teef.  Genesis,
+di'n' I hyuh you tellin' dis white gemmun take
+caih his teef--not bite on no i'on?''
+
+William smiled in pity.  ``I don't need to
+bother about that, I guess,'' he said.  ``I can
+crack nuts with my teeth.''
+
+``Yes, suh,'' said the old man.  ``You kin now. 
+Ev'y nut you crac' now goin' cos' you a yell
+when you git 'long 'bout fawty an' fifty.  You
+crack nuts now an' you'll holler den!''
+
+``Well, I guess I won't worry myself much now
+about what won't happen till I'm forty or fifty,''
+said William.  ``My teeth 'll last MY time, I
+guess.''
+
+That brought a chuckle from Mr. Genesis. 
+``Jes' listen!'' he exclaimed.  ``Young man
+think he ain' nev' goin' be ole man.  Else he think,
+`Dat ole man what I'm goin' to be, dat ain'
+goin' be me 'tall--dat goin' be somebody else! 
+What I caih 'bout dat ole man?  I ain't a-goin'
+take caih o' no teef fer HIM!'  Yes, suh, an' den
+when he GIT to be ole man, he say, `What become
+o' dat young man I yoosta be?  Where is dat
+young man agone to?  He 'uz a fool, dat's what
+--an' _I_ ain' no fool, so he mus' been somebody
+else, not me; but I do jes' wish I had him hyuh
+'bout two minutes--long enough to lam him
+fer not takin' caih o' my teef fer me!'  Yes, suh!''
+
+William laughed; his good humor was restored
+and he found the conversation of Mr. Genesis
+attractive.  He seated himself upon an upturned
+bucket near the wheelbarrow, and reverted to a
+former theme.  ``Well, I HAVE heard of people
+getting married even younger 'n you were,'' he said. 
+``You take India, for instance.  Why, they get
+married in India when they're twelve, and even
+seven and eight years old.''
+
+``They do not!'' said Jane, promptly.  ``Their
+mothers and fathers wouldn't let 'em, an' they
+wouldn't want to, anyway.''
+
+``I suppose you been to India and know all
+about it!'' William retorted.  ``For the matter o'
+that, there was a young couple got married in
+Pennsylvania the other day; the girl was only
+fifteen, and the man was sixteen.  It was in the
+papers, and their parents consented, and said
+it was a good thing.  Then there was a case in
+Fall River, Massachusetts, where a young man
+eighteen years old married a woman forty-one
+years old; it was in the papers, too.  And I
+heard of another case somewhere in Iowa--a boy
+began shaving when he was thirteen, and shaved
+every day for four years, and now he's got a full
+beard, and he's goin' to get married this year--
+before he's eighteen years old.  Joe Bullitt's got
+a cousin in Iowa that knows about this case--he
+knows the girl this fellow with the beard is
+goin' to marry, and he says he expects it 'll turn
+out the best thing could have happened.  They're
+goin' to live on a farm.  There's hunderds of
+cases like that, only you don't hear of more'n
+just a few of 'em.  People used to get married at
+sixteen, seventeen, eighteen--anywhere in there
+--and never think anything of it at all.  Right up
+to about a hunderd years ago there were more
+people married at those ages than there were
+along about twenty-four and twenty-five, the way
+they are now.  For instance, you take Shakespeare--''
+
+William paused.
+
+Mr. Genesis was scraping the hull of the miniature
+boat with a piece of broken glass, in lieu of
+sandpaper, but he seemed to be following his
+young friend's remarks with attention.  William
+had mentioned Shakespeare impulsively, in the
+ardor of demonstrating his point; however, upon
+second thought he decided to withdraw the name.
+
+``I mean, you take the olden times,'' he went
+on; ``hardly anybody got married after they
+were nineteen or twenty years old, unless they
+were widowers, because they were all married
+by that time.  And right here in our own county,
+there were eleven couples married in the last
+six months under twenty-one years of age. 
+I've got a friend named Johnnie Watson; his
+uncle works down at the court-house and told
+him about it, so it can't be denied.  Then there
+was a case I heard of over in--''
+
+Mr. Genesis uttered a loud chuckle.  ``My
+goo'ness!'' he exclaimed.  ``How you c'leck all'
+dem fac's?  Lan' name!  What puzzlin' ME is
+how you 'member 'em after you done c'leck 'em. 
+Ef it uz me I couldn't c'leck 'em in de firs' place,
+an' ef I could, dey wouldn' be no use to me,
+'cause I couldn't rickalect 'em!''
+
+``Well, it isn't so hard,'' said William, ``if you
+kind of get the hang of it.''  Obviously pleased,
+he plucked a spear of grass and placed it between
+his teeth, adding, ``I always did have a pretty
+good memory.''
+
+``Mamma says you're the most forgetful boy
+she ever heard of,'' said Jane, calmly.  ``She
+says you can't remember anything two minutes.''
+
+William's brow darkened.  ``Now look here--''
+he began, with severity.
+
+But the old darky intervened.  ``Some folks
+got good rickaleckshum an' some folks got bad,''
+he said, pacifically.  ``Young white germmun
+rickalect mo' in two minute dan what I kin in two
+years!''
+
+Jane appeared to accept this as settlement of
+the point at issue, while William bestowed upon
+Mr. Genesis a glance of increased favor.  William's
+expression was pleasant to see; in fact,
+it was the pleasantest expression Jane had seen
+him wearing for several days.  Almost always,
+lately, he was profoundly preoccupied, and so
+easily annoyed that there was no need to be
+careful of his feelings, because--as his mother
+observed--he was ``certain to break out about
+every so often, no matter what happened!''
+
+``I remember pretty much everything,'' he
+said, as if in modest explanation of the performance
+which had excited the aged man's admira-
+tion.  ``I can remember things that happened
+when I was four years old.''
+
+``So can I,'' said Jane.  ``I can remember
+when I was two.  I had a kitten fell down the
+cistern and papa said it hurt the water.''
+
+``My goo'ness!'' Mr. Genesis exclaimed.  ``An'
+you 'uz on'y two year ole, honey!  Bes' _I_ kin do
+is rickalect when I 'uz 'bout fifty.''
+
+``Oh no!'' Jane protested.  ``You said you
+remembered havin' a baby when you were seventeen,
+Mr. Genesis.''
+
+``Yes'm,'' he admitted.  ``I mean rickalect
+good like you do 'bout yo' li'l' cat an' all how yo'
+pappy tuck on 'bout it.  I kin rickalect SOME,
+but I cain' rickalect GOOD.''
+
+William coughed with a certain importance. 
+``Do you remember,'' he asked, ``when you
+were married, how did you feel about it?  Were
+you kind of nervous, or anything like that, before-
+hand?''
+
+Mr. Genesis again passed a wavering hand
+across his troubled brow.
+
+``I mean,'' said William, observing his
+perplexity, ``were you sort of shaky--f'rinstance, as
+if you were taking an important step in life?''
+
+``Lemme see.''  The old man pondered for a
+moment.  ``I felt mighty shaky once, I rickalect;
+dat time yalla m'latta man shootin' at me
+f 'um behime a snake-fence.''
+
+``Shootin' at you!'' Jane cried, stirred from her
+accustomed placidity.  ``Mr. Genesis!  What
+DID he do that for?''
+
+``Nuff'm!'' replied Mr. Genesis, with feeling. 
+``Nuff'm in de wide worl'!  He boun' to shoot
+SOMEbody, an' pick on me 'cause I 'uz de
+handies'.''
+
+He closed his knife, gave the little boat a final
+scrape with the broken glass, and then a soothing
+rub with the palm of his hand.  ``Dah, honey,''
+he said--and simultaneously factory whistles began
+to blow.  ``Dah yo' li'l' steamboat good as I
+kin git her widout no b'iler ner no smoke-
+stack.  I reckon yo' pappy 'll buy 'em fer you.''
+
+Jane was grateful.  ``It's a beautiful boat,
+Mr. Genesis.  I do thank you!''
+
+Genesis, the son, laid aside his tools and
+approached.  ``Pappy finish whittlin' spang on
+'em noon whistles,'' he chuckled.  ``Come 'long,
+pappy.  I bet you walk fas' 'nuff goin' todes
+dinnuh.  I hear fry-cakes ploppin' in skillet!''
+
+Mr. Genesis laughed loudly, his son's words
+evidently painting a merry and alluring picture; and
+the two, followed by Clematis, moved away in
+the direction of the alley gate.  William and
+Jane watched the brisk departure of the antique
+with sincere esteem and liking.
+
+``He must have been sixteen,'' said William,
+musingly.
+
+``When?'' Jane asked.
+
+William, in deep thought, was still looking
+after Mr. Genesis; he was almost unconscious
+that he had spoken aloud and he replied, automatically:
+
+``When he was married.''
+
+Then, with a start, he realized into how great a
+condescension he had been betrayed, and hastily
+added, with pronounced hauteur, ``Things you
+don't understand.  You run in the house.''
+
+Jane went into the house, but she did not
+carry her obedience to the point of running. 
+She walked slowly, and in that state of profound
+reverie which was characteristic of her when she
+was immersed in the serious study of William's
+affairs.
+
+
+
+XVI
+
+THE SHOWER
+
+She continued to be thoughtful until after
+lunch, when, upon the sun's disappearance
+behind a fat cloud, Jane and the heavens
+exchanged dispositions for the time--the heavens
+darkened and Jane brightened.  She was in the
+front hall, when the sunshine departed rather
+abruptly, and she jumped for joy, pointing to the
+open door.  ``Look!  Looky there!'' she called
+to her brother.  Richly ornamented, he was
+descending the front stairs, his embellishments
+including freshly pressed white trousers, a new
+straw hat, unusual shoes, and a blasphemous
+tie.  ``I'm goin' to get to sail my boat,'' Jane
+shouted.  ``It's goin' to rain.''
+
+``It is not,'' said William, irritated.  ``It's
+not going to anything like rain.  I s'pose you
+think it ought to rain just to let you sail that
+chunk of wood!''
+
+``It's goin' to rain--it's goin' to rain!''  (Jane
+made a little singsong chant of it.)  ``It's goin'
+to rain--it gives Willie a pain--it's goin' to rain
+--it gives Willie a pain--it's goin' to--''
+
+He interrupted her sternly.  ``Look here! 
+You're old enough to know better.  I s'pose you
+think there isn't anything as important in the
+world as your gettin' the chance to sail that little
+boat!  I s'pose you think business and everything
+else has got to stop and get ruined, maybe,
+just to please you!''  As he spoke he walked to
+an umbrella-stand in the hall and deliberately
+took therefrom a bamboo walking-stick of his
+father's.  Indeed, his denunciation of Jane's
+selfishness about the weather was made partly to
+reassure himself and settle his nerves, strained
+by the unusual procedure he contemplated, and
+partly to divert Jane's attention.  In the latter
+effort he was unsuccessful; her eyes became
+strange and unbearable.
+
+She uttered a shriek:
+
+``Willie's goin' to carry a CANE!''
+
+``You hush up!'' he said, fiercely, and hurried
+out through the front door.  She followed him to
+the edge of the porch; she stood there while he
+made his way to the gate, and she continued to
+stand there as he went down the street, trying to
+swing the cane in an accustomed and unembarrassed
+manner.
+
+Jane made this difficult.
+
+``Willie's got a CANE!'' she screamed.  ``He's
+got papa's CANE!'' Then, resuming her little
+chant, she began to sing:  ``It's goin' to rain--
+Willie's got papa's cane--it's goin' to rain--
+Willie's got papa's cane!''  She put all of her
+voice into a final effort.  ``MISS PRATT'LL GET WET
+IF YOU DON'T TAKE AN UMBERELLER-R-R!''
+
+The attention of several chance pedestrians
+had been attracted, and the burning William,
+breaking into an agonized half-trot, disappeared
+round the corner.  Then Jane retired within the
+house, feeling that she had done her duty.  It
+would be his own fault if he got wet.
+
+Rain was coming.  Rain was in the feel of the
+air--and in Jane's hope.
+
+She was not disappointed.  Mr. Genesis, so
+secure of fair weather in the morning, was proved
+by the afternoon to be a bad prophet.  The fat
+cloud was succeeded by others, fatter; a corpulent
+army assailed the vault of heaven, heavy
+outriders before a giant of evil complexion and
+devastating temper.
+
+An hour after William had left the house,
+the dust in the streets and all loose paper and
+rubbish outdoors rose suddenly to a considerable
+height and started for somewhere else.  The trees
+had colic; everything became as dark as winter
+twilight; streaks of wildfire ran miles in a second,
+and somebody seemed to be ripping up sheets
+of copper and tin the size of farms.  The rain
+came with a swish, then with a rattle, and then
+with a roar, while people listened at their garret
+doorways and marveled.  Window-panes turned
+to running water;--it poured.
+
+Then it relented, dribbled, shook down a few
+last drops; and passed on to the countryside. 
+Windows went up; eaves and full gutters plashed
+and gurgled; clearer light fell; then, in a moment,
+sunshine rushed upon shining green trees and
+green grass; doors opened--and out came the
+children!
+
+Shouting, they ran to the flooded gutters. 
+Here were rivers, lakes, and oceans for navigation;
+easy pilotage, for the steersman had but to wade
+beside his craft and guide it with a twig.  Jane's
+timely boat was one of the first to reach the
+water.
+
+Her mother had been kind, and Jane, with
+shoes and stockings left behind her on the porch,
+was a happy sailor as she waded knee-deep along
+the brimming curbstones.  At the corner below
+the house of the Baxters, the street was flooded
+clear across, and Jane's boat, following the
+current, proceeded gallantly onward here, sailed
+down the next block, and was thoughtlessly
+entering a sewer when she snatched it out of the
+water.  Looking about her, she perceived a
+gutter which seemed even lovelier than the one
+she had followed.  It was deeper and broader
+and perhaps a little browner, wherefore she
+launched her ship upon its dimpled bosom and
+explored it as far as the next sewer-hole or
+portage.  Thus the voyage continued for several
+blocks with only one accident--which might have
+happened to anybody.  It was an accident in the
+nature of a fall, caused by the sliding of Jane's
+left foot on some slippery mud.  This treacherous
+substance, covered with water, could not have
+been anticipated; consequently Jane's emotions
+were those of indignation rather than of culpability. 
+Upon rising, she debated whether or not
+she should return to her dwelling, inclining to
+the opinion that the authorities there would have
+taken the affirmative; but as she was wet not
+much above the waist, and the guilt lay all upon
+the mud, she decided that such an interruption
+of her journey would be a gross injustice to herself. 
+Navigation was reopened.
+
+Presently the boat wandered into a miniature
+whirlpool, grooved in a spiral and pleasant
+to see.  Slowly the water went round and round,
+and so did the boat without any assistance from
+Jane.  Watching this movement thoughtfully,
+she brought forth from her drenched pocket some
+sodden whitish disks, recognizable as having been
+crackers, and began to eat them.  Thus absorbed,
+she failed at first to notice the approach of two
+young people along the sidewalk.
+
+They were the entranced William and Miss
+Pratt; and their appearance offered a suggestive
+contrast in relative humidity.  In charming and
+tender-colored fabrics, fluffy and cool and summery,
+she was specklessly dry; not a drop had
+touched even the little pink parasol over her
+shoulder, not one had fallen upon the tiny white
+doglet drowsing upon her arm.  But William was
+wet--he was still more than merely damp,
+though they had evidently walked some distance
+since the rain had ceased to fall.  His new hat
+was a mucilaginous ruin; his dank coat sagged;
+his shapeless trousers flopped heavily, and his
+shoes gave forth marshy sounds as he walked.
+
+No brilliant analyst was needed to diagnose
+this case.  Surely any observer must have said: 
+``Here is a dry young lady, and at her side walks
+a wet young gentleman who carries an umbrella
+in one hand and a walking-stick in the other. 
+Obviously the young lady and gentleman were
+out for a stroll for which the stick was
+sufficient, and they were caught by the rain. 
+Before any fell, however, he found her a place of
+shelter--such as a corner drug-store and then
+himself gallantly went forth into the storm for an
+umbrella.  He went to the young lady's house,
+or to the house where she may be visiting, for,
+if he had gone to his own he would have left
+his stick.  It may be, too, that at his own, his
+mother would have detained him, since he is
+still at the age when it is just possible sometimes
+for mothers to get their sons into the house when
+it rains.  He returned with the umbrella to the
+corner drug-store at probably about the time
+when the rain ceased to fall, because his extreme
+moistness makes necessary the deduction that
+he was out in all the rain that rained.  But he
+does not seem to care.''
+
+The fact was that William did not even know
+that he was wet.  With his head sidewise and his
+entranced eyes continuously upon the pretty face
+so near, his state was almost somnambulistic.  Not
+conscious of his soggy garments or of the deluged
+streets, he floated upon a rosy cloud, incense
+about him, far-away music enchanting his ears.
+
+If Jane had not recognized the modeling of his
+features she might not have known them to be
+William's, for they had altered their grouping
+to produce an expression with which she was
+totally unfamiliar.  To be explicit, she was
+unfamiliar with this expression in that place--
+that is to say, upon William, though she had seen
+something like it upon other people, once or
+twice, in church.
+
+William's thoughts might have seemed to her
+as queer as his expression, could she have known
+them.  They were not very definite, however,
+taking the form of sweet, vague pictures of the
+future.  These pictures were of married life; that
+is, married life as William conceived it for himself
+and Miss Pratt--something strikingly different
+from that he had observed as led by his
+mother and father, or their friends and relatives. 
+In his rapt mind he beheld Miss Pratt walking
+beside him ``through life,'' with her little parasol
+and her little dog--her exquisite face always
+lifted playfully toward his own (with admiration
+underneath the playfulness), and he heard
+her voice of silver always rippling ``baby-talk''
+throughout all the years to come.  He saw her
+applauding his triumphs--though these remained
+indefinite in his mind, and he was unable to
+foreshadow the business or profession which
+was to provide the amazing mansion (mainly
+conservatory) which he pictured as their home. 
+Surrounded by flowers, and maintaining a private
+orchestra, he saw Miss Pratt and himself
+growing old together, attaining to such ages as
+thirty and even thirty-five, still in perfect
+harmony, and always either dancing in the evenings
+or strolling hand in hand in the moonlight. 
+Sometimes they would visit the nursery, where
+curly-headed, rosy cherubs played upon a white-
+bear rug in the firelight.  These were all boys
+and ready-made, the youngest being three years
+old and without a past.
+
+They would be beautiful children, happy with
+their luxurious toys on the bear rug, and they
+would NEVER be seen in any part of the house
+except the nursery.  Their deportment would be
+flawless, and--
+
+``WILL-EE!''
+
+The aviator struck a hole in the air; his heart
+misgave him.  Then he came to earth--a sickening
+drop, and instantaneous.
+
+``WILL-EE!''
+
+There was Jane, a figurine in a plastic state
+and altogether disgraceful;--she came up out of
+the waters and stood before them with feet of
+clay, indeed; pedestaled upon the curbstone.
+
+``Who IS that CURIOUS child?'' said Miss Pratt,
+stopping.
+
+William shuddered.
+
+``Was she calling YOU?'' Miss Pratt asked,
+incredulously.
+
+``Willie, I told you you better take an umbereller,''
+said Jane, ``instead of papa's cane.''  And
+she added, triumphantly, ``Now you see!''
+
+Moving forward, she seemed to have in mind
+a dreadful purpose; there was something about
+her that made William think she intended casually
+to accompany him and Miss Pratt.
+
+``You go home!'' he commanded, hoarsely.
+
+Miss Pratt uttered a little scream of surprise
+and recognition.  ``It's your little sister!'' she
+exclaimed, and then, reverting to her favorite
+playfulness of enunciation, `` 'Oor ickle sissa!''
+she added, gaily, as a translation.  Jane
+misunderstood it; she thought Miss Pratt meant
+``OUR little sister.''
+
+``Go home!'' said William.
+
+``No'ty, no'ty!'' said Miss Pratt, shaking her
+head.  ``Me 'fraid oo's a no'ty, no'ty ickle dirl! 
+All datie!''
+
+Jane advanced.  ``I wish you'd let me carry
+Flopit for you,'' she said.
+
+Giving forth another gentle scream, Miss Pratt
+hopped prettily backward from Jane's extended
+hands.  ``Oo-oo!'' she cried, chidingly.  ``Mustn't
+touch!  P'eshus Flopit all soap-water-wash clean. 
+Ickle dirly all muddy-nassy!  Ickle dirly must
+doe home, det all soap-water-wash clean like NICE
+ickle sissa.  Evabody will love 'oor ickle sissa den,''
+she concluded, turning to William.  ``Tell 'oor
+ickle sissa MUS' doe home det soap-water-wash!''
+
+Jane stared at Miss Pratt with fixed solemnity
+during the delivery of these admonitions, and it
+was to be seen that they made an impression
+upon her.  Her mouth slowly opened, but she
+spake not.  An extraordinary idea had just begun
+to make itself at home in her mind.  It was an
+idea which had been hovering in the neighborhood
+of that domain ever since William's comments
+upon the conversation of Mr. Genesis, in
+the morning.
+
+``Go home!'' repeated William, and then, as
+Jane stood motionless and inarticulate, transfixed
+by her idea, he said, almost brokenly, to his
+dainty companion, ``I DON'T know what you'll
+think of my mother!  To let this child--''
+
+Miss Pratt laughed comfortingly as they
+started on again.  ``Isn't mamma's fault, foolish
+boy Baxter.  Ickle dirlies will det datie!''
+
+The profoundly mortified William glanced back
+over his shoulder, bestowing upon Jane a look in
+which bitterness was mingled with apprehension. 
+But she remained where she was, and did not
+follow.  That was a little to be thankful for, and
+he found some additional consolation in believing
+that Miss Pratt had not caught the frightful
+words, ``papa's cane,'' at the beginning of the
+interview.  He was encouraged to this belief by
+her presently taking from his hand the decoration
+in question and examining it with tokens of
+pleasure.  `` 'Oor pitty walk'-'tick,'' she called it,
+with a tact he failed to suspect.  And so he
+began to float upward again; glamors enveloped
+him and the earth fell away.
+
+He was alone in space with Miss Pratt once
+more.
+
+
+
+XVII
+
+JANE'S THEORY
+
+The pale end of sunset was framed in the
+dining-room windows, and Mr. and Mrs. Baxter
+and the rehabilitated Jane were at the table, when
+William made his belated return from the afternoon's
+excursion.  Seating himself, he waived his
+mother's references to the rain, his clothes, and
+probable colds, and after one laden glance at
+Jane denoting a grievance so elaborate that he
+despaired of setting it forth in a formal complaint
+to the Powers--he fell into a state of trance.  He
+took nourishment automatically, and roused himself
+but once during the meal, a pathetic encounter
+with his father resulting from this awakening.
+
+``Everybody in town seemed to be on the
+streets, this evening, as I walked home,'' Mr.
+Baxter remarked, addressing his wife.  ``I suppose
+there's something in the clean air after a
+rain that brings 'em out.  I noticed one thing,
+though; maybe it's the way they dress nowadays,
+but you certainly don't see as many pretty girls
+on the streets as there used to be.''
+
+William looked up absently.  ``I used to think
+that, too,'' he said, with dreamy condescension,
+``when I was younger.''
+
+Mr. Baxter stared.
+
+``Well, I'll be darned!'' he said.
+
+``Papa, papa!'' his wife called, reprovingly.
+
+``When you were younger!'' Mr. Baxter repeated,
+with considerable irritation.  ``How old
+d' you think you are?''
+
+``I'm going on eighteen,'' said William, firmly. 
+``I know plenty of cases--cases where--''  He
+paused, relapsing into lethargy.
+
+``What's the matter with him?'' Mr. Baxter
+inquired, heatedly, of his wife.
+
+William again came to life.  ``I was saying that
+a person's age is different according to circumstances,''
+he explained, with dignity, if not lucidity. 
+``You take Genesis's father.  Well, he was
+married when he was sixteen.  Then there was a
+case over in Iowa that lots of people know about
+and nobody thinks anything of.  A young man
+over there in Iowa that's seventeen years old
+began shaving when he was thirteen and shaved
+every day for four years, and now--''
+
+He was interrupted by his father, who was no
+longer able to contain himself.  ``And now I suppose
+he's got WHISKERS!'' he burst forth.  ``There's
+an ambition for you!  My soul!''
+
+It was Jane who took up the tale.  She had
+been listening with growing excitement, her eyes
+fixed piercingly upon William.  ``He's got a
+beard!'' she cried, alluding not to her brother,
+but to the fabled Iowan.  ``I heard Willie tell ole
+Mr. Genesis about it.''
+
+``It seems to lie heavily on your mind,'' Mr.
+Baxter said to William.  ``I suppose you feel that
+in the face of such an example, your life between
+the ages of thirteen and seventeen has been virtually
+thrown away?''
+
+William had again relapsed, but he roused
+himself feebly.  ``Sir?'' he said.
+
+``What IS the matter with him?'' Mr. Baxter
+demanded.  ``Half the time lately he seems to be
+hibernating, and only responds by a slight twitching
+when poked with a stick.  The other half of
+the time he either behaves like I-don't-know-
+what or talks about children growing whiskers in
+Iowa!  Hasn't that girl left town yet?''
+
+William was not so deep in trance that this
+failed to stir him.  He left the table.
+
+Mrs. Baxter looked distressed, though, as the
+meal was about concluded, and William had partaken
+of his share in spite of his dreaminess, she
+had no anxieties connected with his sustenance. 
+As for Mr. Baxter, he felt a little remorse,
+undoubtedly, but he was also puzzled.  So plain a
+man was he that he had no perception of the
+callous brutality of the words ``THAT GIRL'' when
+applied to some girls.  He referred to his mystification
+a little later, as he sat with his evening
+paper in the library.
+
+``I don't know what I said to that tetchy boy
+to hurt him,'' he began in an apologetic tone. 
+``I don't see that there was anything too rough
+for him to stand in a little sarcasm.  He needn't
+be so sensitive on the subject of whiskers, it
+seems to me.''
+
+Mrs. Baxter smiled faintly and shook her head.
+
+It was Jane who responded.  She was seated
+upon the floor, disporting herself mildly with her
+paint-box.  ``Papa, I know what's the matter
+with Willie,'' she said.
+
+``Do you?'' Mr. Baxter returned.  ``Well, if
+you make it pretty short, you've got just about
+long enough to tell us before your bedtime.''
+
+``I think he's married,'' said Jane.
+
+``What!''  And her parents united their hilarity.
+
+``I do think he's married,'' Jane insisted,
+unmoved.  ``I think he's married with that Miss
+Pratt.''
+
+``Well,'' said her father, ``he does seem upset,
+and it may be that her visit and the idea of
+whiskers, coming so close together, is more than
+mere coincidence, but I hardly think Willie is
+married, Jane!''
+
+``Well, then,'' she returned, thoughtfully, ``he's
+almost married.  I know that much, anyway.''
+
+``What makes you think so?''
+
+``Well, because!  I KIND of thought he must be
+married, or anyways somep'm, when he talked to
+Mr. Genesis this mornin'.  He said he knew how
+some people got married in Pennsylvania an'
+India, an' he said they were only seven or eight
+years old.  He said so, an' I heard him; an' he
+said there were eleven people married that were
+only seventeen, an' this boy in Iowa got a full
+beard an' got married, too.  An' he said Mr.
+Genesis was only sixteen when HE was married. 
+He talked all about gettin' married when you're
+seventeen years old, an' he said how people
+thought it was the best thing could happen.  So
+I just KNOW he's almost married!''
+
+Mr. Baxter chuckled, and Mrs. Baxter smiled,
+but a shade of thoughtfulness, a remote anxiety,
+tell upon the face of the latter.
+
+``You haven't any other reason, have you,
+Jane?'' she asked.
+
+``Yes'm,'' said Jane, promptly.  ``An' it's a
+more reason than any!  Miss Pratt calls you
+`mamma' as if you were HER mamma.  She does
+it when she talks to Willie.''
+
+``Jane!''
+
+``Yes m, I HEARD her.  An' Willie said, `I don't
+know what you'll think about mother.'  He said,
+`I don't know what you'll think about mother,'
+to Miss Pratt.''
+
+Mrs. Baxter looked a little startled, and her
+husband frowned.  Jane mistook their expressions
+for incredulity.  ``They DID, mamma,'' she
+protested.  ``That's just the way they talked to
+each other.  I heard 'em this afternoon, when
+Willie had papa's cane.''
+
+``Maybe they were doing it to tease you, if you
+were with them,'' Mr. Baxter suggested.
+
+``I wasn't with 'em.  I was sailin' my boat,
+an' they came along, an' first they never saw me,
+an' Willie looked--oh, papa, I wish you'd seen
+him!''  Jane rose to her feet in her excitement. 
+``His face was so funny, you never saw anything
+like it!  He was walkin' along with it turned sideways,
+an' all the time he kept walkin' frontways,
+he kept his face sideways--like this, papa.  Look,
+papa!''  And she gave what she considered a
+faithful imitation of William walking with Miss
+Pratt.  ``Look, papa!  This is the way Willie
+went.  He had it sideways so's he could see Miss.
+Pratt, papa.  An' his face was just like this. 
+Look, papa!''  She contorted her features in a
+terrifying manner.  ``Look, papa!''
+
+``Don't, Jane!'' her mother exclaimed.
+
+``Well, I haf to show papa how Willie looked,
+don't I?'' said Jane, relaxing.  ``That's just the way
+he looked.  Well, an' then they stopped an' talked
+to me, an' Miss Pratt said, `It's our little sister.' ''
+
+``Did she really?'' Mrs. Baxter asked, gravely,
+
+``Yes'm, she did.  Soon as she saw who I was,
+she said, `Why, it's our little sister!'  Only she
+said it that way she talks--sort of foolish.  `It's
+our ittle sissy'--somep'm like that, mamma. 
+She said it twice an' told me to go home an' get
+washed up.  An' Miss Pratt told Willie--Miss
+Pratt said, `It isn't mamma's fault Jane's so
+dirty,' just like that.  She--''
+
+``Are you sure she said `our little sister'?''
+said Mrs. Baxter.
+
+``Why, you can ask Willie!  She said it that
+funny way.  `Our 'ittle sissy'; that's what she
+said.  An' Miss Pratt said, `Ev'rybody would
+love our little sister if mamma washed her in soap
+an' water!'  You can ask Willie; that's exackly
+what Miss Pratt said, an' if you don't believe it
+you can ask HER.  If you don't want to believe it,
+why, you can ask--''
+
+``Hush, dear,'' said Mrs. Baxter.  ``All this
+doesn't mean anything at all, especially such
+nonsense as Willie's thinking of being married. 
+It's your bedtime.''
+
+``Well, but MAMMA--''
+
+``Was that all they said?'' Mr. Baxter inquired.
+
+Jane turned to him eagerly.  ``They said all
+lots of things like that, papa.  They--''
+
+``Nonsense!'' Mrs. Baxter in interrupted.  ``Come,
+it's bedtime.  I'll go up with you.  You mustn't
+think such nonsense.''
+
+``But, mamma--''
+
+``Come along, Jane!''
+
+Jane was obedient in the flesh, but her spirit
+was free; her opinions were her own.  Disappointed
+in the sensation she had expected to
+produce, she followed her mother out of the
+room wearing the expression of a person who
+says, ``You'll SEE--some day when everything's
+ruined!''
+
+Mr. Baxter, left alone, laughed quietly, lifted
+his neglected newspaper to obtain the light at
+the right angle, and then allowed it to languish
+upon his lap again.  Frowning, he began to tap
+the floor with his shoe.
+
+He was trying to remember what things were
+in his head when he was seventeen, and it was
+difficult.  It seemed to him that he had been a
+steady, sensible young fellow--really quite a man
+--at that age.  Looking backward at the blur of
+youthful years, the period from sixteen to twenty-
+five appeared to him as ``pretty much all of a
+piece.''  He could not recall just when he stopped
+being a boy; it must have been at about fifteen,
+he thought.
+
+All at once he sat up stiffly in his chair, and the
+paper slid from his knee.  He remembered an
+autumn, long ago, when he had decided to abandon
+the educational plans of his parents and
+become an actor.  He had located this project
+exactly, for it dated from the night of his
+seventeenth birthday, when he saw John McCullough
+play ``Virginius.''
+
+Even now Mr. Baxter grew a little red as he
+remembered the remarkable letter he had written,
+a few weeks later, to the manager of a passing
+theatrical company.  He had confidently
+expected an answer, and had made his plans to
+leave town quietly with the company and afterward
+reassure his parents by telegraph.  In fact,
+he might have been on the stage at this moment,
+if that manager had taken him.  Mr. Baxter
+began to look nervous.
+
+Still, there is a difference between going on the
+stage and getting married.  ``I don't know,
+though!'' Mr. Baxter thought.  ``And Willie's
+certainly not so well balanced in a GENERAL way as
+I was.''  He wished his wife would come down
+and reassure him, though of course it was all
+nonsense.
+
+But when Mrs. Baxter came down-stairs she
+did not reassure him.  ``Of course Jane's too
+absurd!'' she said.  ``I don't mean that she `made
+it up'; she never does that, and no doubt this
+little Miss Pratt did say about what Jane thought
+she said.  But it all amounts to nothing.''
+
+``Of course!''
+
+``Willie's just going through what several of
+the other boys about his age are going through--
+like Johnnie Watson and Joe Bullitt and Wallace
+Banks.  They all seem to be frantic over her.''
+
+``I caught a glimpse of her the day you had
+her to tea.  She's rather pretty.''
+
+``Adorably!  And perhaps Willie has been just
+a LITTLE bit more frantic than the others.''
+
+``He certainly seems in a queer state!''
+
+At this his wife's tone became serious.  ``Do
+you think he WOULD do as crazy a thing as that?''
+
+Mr. Baxter laughed.  ``Well, I don't know
+what he'd do it ON!  I don't suppose he has more
+than a dollar in his possession.''
+
+``Yes, he has,'' she returned, quickly.  ``Day
+before yesterday there was a second-hand furniture
+man here, and I was too busy to see him,
+but I wanted the storeroom in the cellar cleared
+out, and I told Willie he could have whatever
+the man would pay him for the junk in there, if
+he'd watch to see that they didn't TAKE anything. 
+They found some old pieces that I'd forgotten,
+underneath things, and altogether the man paid
+Willie nine dollars and eighty-five cents.''
+
+``But, mercy-me!'' exclaimed Mr. Baxter, ``the
+girl may be an idiot, but she wouldn't run away
+and marry a boy just barely seventeen on nine
+dollars and eighty-five cents!''
+
+``Oh no!'' said Mrs. Baxter.  ``At least, I
+don't THINK so.  Of course girls do as crazy things
+as boys sometimes--in their way.  I was think-
+ing--''  She paused.  ``Of COURSE there couldn't be
+anything in it, but it did seem a little strange.''
+
+``What did?''
+
+``Why, just before I came down-stairs, Adelia
+came for the laundry; and I asked her if she'd
+seen Willie; and she said he'd put on his dark suit
+after dinner, and he went out through the kitchen,
+carrying his suit-case.''
+
+``He did?''
+
+``Of course,'' Mrs. Baxter went on, slowly, ``I
+COULDN'T believe he'd do such a thing, but he
+really is in a PREPOSTEROUS way over this little
+Miss Pratt, and he DID have that money--''
+
+``By George!'' Mr. Baxter got upon his feet. 
+``The way he talked at dinner, I could come
+pretty near believing he hasn't any more brains
+LEFT than to get married on nine dollars and
+eighty-five cents!  I wouldn't put it past him! 
+By George, I wouldn't!''
+
+``Oh, I don't think he would,'' she remonstrated,
+feebly.  ``Besides, the law wouldn't permit it.''
+
+Mr. Baxter paced the floor.  ``Oh, I suppose
+they COULD manage it.  They could go to some
+little town and give false ages and--''  He broke
+off.  ``Adelia was sure he had his suit-case?''
+
+She nodded.  ``Do you think we'd better go
+down to the Parchers'?  We'd just say we came
+to call, of course, and if--''
+
+``Get your hat on,'' he said.  ``I don't think
+there's anything in it at all, but we'd just as well
+drop down there.  It can't HURT anything.''
+
+``Of course, I don't think--'' she began.
+
+``Neither do I,'' he interrupted, irascibly.  ``But
+with a boy of his age crazy enough to think he's
+in love, how do WE know what 'll happen?  We're
+only his parents!  Get your hat on.''
+
+But when the uneasy couple found themselves
+upon the pavement before the house of the
+Parchers, they paused under the shade-trees in
+the darkness, and presently decided that it was
+not necessary to go in.  Suddenly their uneasiness
+had fallen from them.  From the porch came
+the laughter of several young voices, and then one
+silvery voice, which pretended to be that of a
+tiny child.
+
+``Oh, s'ame! S'ame on 'oo, big Bruvva Josie-
+Joe!  Mus' be polite to Johnny Jump-up, or tant
+play wiv May and Lola!''
+
+``That's Miss Pratt,'' whispered Mrs. Baxter. 
+``She's talking to Johnnie Watson and Joe Bullitt
+and May Parcher.  Let's go home; it's all right. 
+Of course I knew it would be.''
+
+``Why, certainly,'' said Mr. Baxter, as they
+turned.  ``Even if Willie were as crazy as that,
+the little girl would have more sense.  I wouldn't
+have thought anything of it, if you hadn't told me
+about the suit-case.  That looked sort of queer.''
+
+She agreed that it did, but immediately added
+that she had thought nothing of it.  What had
+seemed more significant to her was William's
+interest in the early marriage of Genesis's father,
+and in the Iowa beard story, she said.  Then she
+said that it WAS curious about the suit-case.
+
+And when they came to their own house again,
+there was William sitting alone and silent upon
+the steps of the porch.
+
+``I thought you'd gone out, Willie,'' said his
+mother, as they paused beside him.
+
+``Ma'am?''
+
+``Adelia said you went out, carrying your suit-case.''
+
+``Oh yes,'' he said, languidly.  ``If you leave
+clothes at Schwartz's in the evening they have
+'em pressed in the morning.  You said I looked
+damp at dinner, so I took 'em over and left 'em
+there.''
+
+``I see.''  Mrs. Baxter followed her husband
+to the door, but she stopped on the threshold
+and called back:
+
+``Don't sit there too long, Willie.''
+
+``Ma'am?''
+
+``The dew is falling and it rained so hard to-
+day--I'm afraid it might be damp.''
+
+``Ma'am?''
+
+``Come on,'' Mr. Baxter said to his wife. 
+``He's down on the Parchers' porch, not out in
+front here.  Of course he can't hear you.  It's
+three blocks and a half.''
+
+But William's father was mistaken.  Little he
+knew!  William was not upon the porch of the
+Parchers, with May Parcher and Joe Bullitt and
+Johnnie Watson to interfere.  He was far from
+there, in a land where time was not.  Upon a
+planet floating in pink mist, and uninhabited--
+unless old Mr. Genesis and some Hindoo princes
+and the diligent Iowan may have established
+themselves in its remoter regions--William was
+alone with Miss Pratt, in the conservatory.  And,
+after a time, they went together, and looked into
+the door of a room where an indefinite number of
+little boys--all over three years of age--were
+playing in the firelight upon a white-bear rug. 
+For, in the roseate gossamer that boys' dreams
+are made of, William had indeed entered the
+married state.
+
+His condition was growing worse, every day.
+
+
+
+XVIII
+
+THE BIG, FAT LUMMOX
+
+In the morning sunshine, Mrs. Baxter stood
+at the top of the steps of the front porch,
+addressing her son, who listened impatiently and
+edged himself a little nearer the gate every time
+he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
+
+``Willie,'' she said, ``you must really pay some
+attention to the laws of health, or you'll never
+live to be an old man.''
+
+``I don't want to live to be an old man,'' said
+William, earnestly.  ``I'd rather do what I please
+now and die a little sooner.''
+
+``You talk very foolishly,'' his mother returned. 
+``Either come back and put on some heavier
+THINGS or take your overcoat.''
+
+``My overcoat!'' William groaned.  ``They'd
+think I was a lunatic, carrying an overcoat in
+August!''
+
+``Not to a picnic,'' she said.
+
+``Mother, it isn't a picnic, I've told you a
+hunderd times!  You think it's one those ole-
+fashion things YOU used to go to--sit on the damp
+ground and eat sardines with ants all over 'em? 
+This isn't anything like that; we just go out on
+the trolley to this farm-house and have noon
+dinner, and dance all afternoon, and have supper,
+and then come home on the trolley.  I guess we'd
+hardly of got up anything as out o' date as a
+picnic in honor of Miss PRATT!''
+
+Mrs. Baxter seemed unimpressed.
+
+``It doesn't matter whether you call it a picnic
+or not, Willie.  It will be cool on the open trolley-
+car coming home, especially with only those white
+trousers on--''
+
+``Ye gods!'' he cried.  ``I've got other things
+on besides my trousers!  I wish you wouldn't
+always act as if I was a perfect child!  Good
+heavens! isn't a person my age supposed to know
+how much clothes to wear?''
+
+``Well, if he is,'' she returned, ``it's a mere
+supposition and not founded on fact.  Don't get so
+excited, Willie, please; but you'll either have to
+give up the picnic or come in and ch--''
+
+``Change my `things'!'' he wailed.  ``I can't
+change my `things'!  I've got just twenty minutes
+to get to May Parcher's--the crowd meets
+there, and they're goin' to take the trolley in
+front the Parchers' at exactly a quarter after
+'leven.  PLEASE don't keep me any longer, mother
+--I GOT to go!''
+
+She stepped into the hall and returned
+immediately.  ``Here's your overcoat, Willie.''
+
+His expression was of despair.  ``They'll think
+I'm a lunatic and they'll say so before everybody
+--and I don't blame 'em!  Overcoat on a hot day
+like this!  Except me, I don't suppose there was
+ever anybody lived in the world and got to be
+going on eighteen years old and had to carry his
+silly old overcoat around with him in August--
+because his mother made him!''
+
+``Willie,'' said Mrs. Baxter, ``you don't know
+how many thousands and thousands of mothers
+for thousands and thousands of years have kept
+their sons from taking thousands and thousands
+of colds--just this way!''
+
+He moaned.  ``Well, and I got to be called a
+lunatic just because you're nervous, I s'pose.  All
+right!''
+
+She hung it upon his arm, kissed him; and he
+departed in a desperate manner.
+
+However, having worn his tragic face for three
+blocks, he halted before a corner drug-store, and
+permitted his expression to improve as he gazed
+upon the window display of My Little Sweetheart
+All-Tobacco Cuban Cigarettes, the Package of
+Twenty for Ten Cents.  William was not a
+smoker--that is to say, he had made the usual
+boyhood experiments, finding them discouraging;
+and though at times he considered it humorously
+man-about-town to say to a smoking friend,
+``Well, _I_'ll tackle one o' your ole coffin-nails,'' he
+had never made a purchase of tobacco in his life. 
+But it struck him now that it would be rather
+debonair to disport himself with a package of
+Little Sweethearts upon the excursion.
+
+And the name!  It thrilled him inexpressibly,
+bringing a tenderness into his eyes and a glow
+into his bosom.  He felt that when he should
+smoke a Little Sweetheart it would be a tribute
+to the ineffable visitor for whom this party was
+being given--it would bring her closer to him. 
+His young brow grew almost stern with determination,
+for he made up his mind, on the spot,
+that he would smoke oftener in the future--he
+would become a confirmed smoker, and all his life
+he would smoke My Little Sweetheart All-Tobacco
+Cuban Cigarettes.
+
+He entered and managed to make his purchase
+in a matter-of-fact way, as if he were doing
+something quite unemotional; then he said to the
+clerk:
+
+``Oh, by the by--ah--''
+
+The clerk stared.  ``Well, what else?''
+
+``I mean,'' said William, hurriedly, ``there's
+something I wanted to 'tend to, now I happen to
+be here.  I was on my way to take this overcoat
+to--to get something altered at the tailor's for
+next winter.  'Course I wouldn't want it till
+winter, but I thought I might as well get it DONE.'' 
+He paused, laughing carelessly, for greater plaus-
+ibility.  ``I thought he'd prob'ly want lots of
+time on the job--he's a slow worker, I've noticed
+--and so I decided I might just as well go ahead
+and let him get at it.  Well, so I was on my way
+there, but I just noticed I only got about six
+minutes more to get to a mighty important
+engagement I got this morning, and I'd like to
+leave it here and come by and get it on my way
+home, this evening.''
+
+``Sure,'' said the clerk.  ``Hang it on that
+hook inside the p'scription-counter.  There's one
+there already, b'longs to your friend, that young
+Bullitt fella.  He was in here awhile ago and said
+he wanted to leave his because he didn't have
+time to take it to be pressed in time for next
+winter.  Then he went on and joined that crowd
+in Mr. Parcher's yard, around the corner, that's
+goin' on a trolley-party.  I says, `I betcher mother
+maje carry it,' and he says, `Oh no.  Oh no,'
+he says.  `Honest, I was goin' to get it pressed!' 
+You can hang yours on the same nail.''
+
+The clerk spoke no more, and went to serve
+another customer, while William stared after him
+a little uneasily.  It seemed that here was a man
+of suspicious nature, though, of course, Joe
+Bullitt's shallow talk about getting an overcoat
+pressed before winter would not have imposed
+upon anybody.  However, William felt strongly
+that the private life of the customers of a store
+should not be pried into and speculated about by
+employees, and he was conscious of a distaste
+for this clerk.
+
+Nevertheless, it was with a lighter heart that
+he left his overcoat behind him and stepped out
+of the side door of the drug-store.  That brought
+him within sight of the gaily dressed young
+people, about thirty in number, gathered upon
+the small lawn beside Mr. Parcher's house.
+
+Miss Pratt stood among them, in heliotrope
+and white, Flopit nestling in her arms.  She was
+encircled by girls who were enthusiastically
+caressing the bored and blinking Flopit; and when
+William beheld this charming group, his breath
+became eccentric, his knee-caps became cold and
+convulsive, his neck became hot, and he broke
+into a light perspiration.
+
+She saw him!  The small blonde head and the
+delirious little fluffy hat above it shimmered a
+nod to him.  Then his mouth fell unconsciously
+open, and his eyes grew glassy with the intensity
+of meaning he put into the silent response he sent
+across the picket fence and through the interstices
+of the intervening group.  Pressing with his
+elbow upon the package of cigarettes in his pocket,
+he murmured, inaudibly, ``My Little Sweetheart,
+always for you!''--a repetition of his vow that,
+come what might, he would forever remain a
+loyal smoker of that symbolic brand.  In fact,
+William's mental condition had never shown one
+moment's turn for the better since the fateful
+day of the distracting visitor's arrival.
+
+Mr. Johnnie Watson and Mr. Joe Bullitt met
+him at the gate and offered him hearty greeting. 
+All bickering and dissension among these three
+had passed.  The lady was so wondrous impartial
+that, as time went on, the sufferers had come
+to be drawn together, rather than thrust asunder,
+by their common feeling.  It had grown to be a
+bond uniting them; they were not so much rivals
+as ardent novices serving a single altar, each
+worshiping there without visible gain over the
+other.  Each had even come to possess, in the
+eyes of his two fellows, almost a sacredness as a
+sharer in the celestial glamor; they were tender
+one with another.  They were in the last stages.
+
+Johnnie Watson had with him to-day a visitor
+of his own--a vastly overgrown person of eighteen,
+who, at Johnnie's beckoning, abandoned a
+fair companion of the moment and came forward
+as William entered the gate.
+
+``I want to intradooce you to two of my most
+int'mut friends, George,'' said Johnnie, with the
+anxious gravity of a person about to do something
+important and unfamiliar.  ``Mr. Baxter, let me
+intradooce my cousin, Mr.Crooper.  Mr.Crooper,
+this is my friend, Mr. Baxter.''
+
+The gentlemen shook hands solemnly, saying,
+
+``'M very glad to meet you,'' and Johnnie turned
+to Joe Bullitt.  ``Mr. Croo--I mean, Mr. Bullitt,
+let me intradooce my friend, Mr. Crooper--I
+mean my cousin, Mr. Crooper.  Mr. Crooper is a
+cousin of mine.''
+
+``Glad to make your acquaintance, Mr.
+Crooper,'' said Joe.  ``I suppose you're a cousin
+of Johnnie's, then?''
+
+``Yep,'' said Mr. Crooper, becoming more
+informal.  ``Johnnie wrote me to come over for
+this shindig, so I thought I might as well come.'' 
+He laughed loudly, and the others laughed with
+the same heartiness.  ``Yessir,'' he added, ``I
+thought I might as well come, 'cause I'm pretty
+apt to be on hand if there's anything doin'!''
+
+``Well, that's right,'' said William, and while
+they all laughed again, Mr. Crooper struck his
+cousin a jovial blow upon the back.
+
+``Hi, ole sport!'' he cried, ``I want to meet that
+Miss Pratt before we start.  The car'll be along
+pretty soon, and I got her picked for the girl I'm
+goin' to sit by.''
+
+The laughter of William and Joe Bullitt,
+designed to express cordiality, suddenly became
+flaccid and died.  If Mr. Crooper had been a
+sensitive person he might have perceived the chilling
+disapproval in their glances, for they had just
+begun to be most unfavorably impressed with
+him.  The careless loudness--almost the 
+notoriety--with which he had uttered Miss Pratt's
+name, demanding loosely to be presented to her,
+regardless of the well-known law that a lady must
+first express some wish in such matters--these
+were indications of a coarse nature sure to be more
+than uncongenial to Miss Pratt.  Its presence
+might make the whole occasion distasteful to her
+--might spoil her day.  Both William and Joe
+Bullitt began to wonder why on earth Johnnie
+Watson didn't have any more sense than to
+invite such a big, fat lummox of a cousin to the
+party.
+
+This severe phrase of theirs, almost simultaneous
+in the two minds, was not wholly a failure as
+a thumb-nail sketch of Mr. George Crooper. 
+And yet there was the impressiveness of size
+about him, especially about his legs and chin. 
+At seventeen and eighteen growth is still going
+on, sometimes in a sporadic way, several parts
+seeming to have sprouted faster than others. 
+Often the features have not quite settled down
+together in harmony, a mouth, for instance,
+appearing to have gained such a lead over the rest
+of a face, that even a mother may fear it can
+never be overtaken.  Voices, too, often seem
+misplaced; one hears, outside the door, the bass
+rumble of a sinister giant, and a mild boy, thin
+as a cricket, walks in.  The contrary was George
+Crooper's case; his voice was an unexpected
+piping tenor, half falsetto and frequently girlish
+--as surprising as the absurd voice of an elephant.
+
+He had the general outwardness of a vast and
+lumpy child.  His chin had so distanced his other
+features that his eyes, nose, and brow seemed
+almost baby-like in comparison, while his mountainous
+legs were the great part of the rest of
+him.  He was one of those huge, bottle-shaped
+boys who are always in motion in spite of their
+cumbersomeness.  His gestures were continuous,
+though difficult to interpret as bearing upon the
+subject of his equally continuous conversation;
+and under all circumstances he kept his conspicuous
+legs incessantly moving, whether he was
+going anywhere or remaining in comparatively
+one spot.
+
+His expression was pathetically offensive, the
+result of his bland confidence in the audible
+opinions of a small town whereof his father was
+the richest inhabitant--and the one thing about
+him, even more obvious than his chin, his legs,
+and his spectacular taste in flannels, was his
+perfect trust that he was as welcome to every one
+as he was to his mother.  This might some day
+lead him in the direction of great pain, but on
+the occasion of the ``subscription party'' for Miss
+Pratt it gave him an advantage.
+
+``When do I get to meet that cutie?'' he
+insisted, as Johnnie Watson moved backward from
+the cousinly arm, which threatened further flailing. 
+``You intradooced me to about seven I
+can't do much FOR, but I want to get the howdy
+business over with this Miss Pratt, so I and she
+can get things started.  I'm goin' to keep her
+busy all day!''
+
+``Well, don't be in such a hurry,'' said Johnnie,
+uneasily.  ``You can meet her when we get out
+in the country--if I get a chance, George.''
+
+``No, sir!'' George protested, jovially.  ``I
+guess you're sad birds over in this town, but look
+out!  When I hit a town it don't take long till
+they all hear there's something doin'!  You know
+how I am when I get started, Johnnie!''  Here
+he turned upon William, tucking his fat arm
+affectionately through William's thin one.  ``Hi,
+sport!  Ole Johnnie's so slow, YOU toddle me over
+and get me fixed up with this Miss Pratt, and
+I'll tell her you're the real stuff--after we get
+engaged!''
+
+He was evidently a true cloud-compeller, this
+horrible George.
+
+
+
+XIX
+
+``I DUNNO WHY IT IS''
+
+William extricated his arm, huskily muttering
+words which were lost in the general
+outcry, ``Car's coming!''  The young people
+poured out through the gate, and, as the car
+stopped, scrambled aboard.  For a moment
+everything was hurried and confused.  William
+struggled anxiously to push through to Miss
+Pratt and climb up beside her, but Mr. George
+Crooper made his way into the crowd in a beaming,
+though bull-like manner, and a fat back in
+a purple-and-white ``blazer'' flattened William's
+nose, while ponderous heels damaged William's
+toes; he was shoved back, and just managed to
+clamber upon the foot-board as the car started. 
+The friendly hand of Joe Bullitt pulled him to a
+seat, and William found himself rubbing his nose
+and sitting between Joe and Johnnie Watson,
+directly behind the dashing Crooper and Miss
+Pratt.  Mr. Crooper had already taken Flopit
+upon his lap.
+
+``Dogs are always crazy 'bout me,'' they heard
+him say, for his high voice was but too audible
+over all other sounds.  ``Dogs and chuldren.  I
+dunno why it is, but they always take to me. 
+My name's George Crooper, Third, Johnnie Watson's
+cousin.  He was tryin' to intradooce me
+before the car came along, but he never got the
+chance.  I guess as this shindig's for you, and I'm
+the only other guest from out o' town, we'll have
+to intradooce ourselves--the two guests of honor,
+as it were.''
+
+Miss Pratt laughed her silvery laugh, murmured
+politely, and turned no freezing glance
+upon her neighbor.  Indeed, it seemed that she
+was far from regarding him with the distaste
+anticipated by William and Joe Bullitt.  ``Flopit
+look so toot an' tunnin','' she was heard to
+remark.  ``Flopit look so 'ittle on dray, big,
+'normous man's lap.''
+
+Mr. Crooper laughed deprecatingly.  ``He does
+look kind of small compared with the good ole
+man that's got charge of him, now!  Well, I
+always was a good deal bigger than the fellas I
+went with.  I dunno why it is, but I was always
+kind of quicker, too, as it were--and the strongest
+in any crowd I ever got with.  I'm kind of muscle-
+bound, I guess, but I don't let that interfere with
+my quickness any.  Take me in an automobile,
+now--I got a racin'-car at home--and I keep my
+head better than most people do, as it were.  I
+can kind of handle myself better; I dunno why
+it is.  My brains seem to work better than other
+people's, that's all it is.  I don't mean that I
+got more sense, or anything like that; it's just
+the way my brains work; they kind of put me
+at an advantage, as it were.  Well, f'rinstance,
+if I'd been livin' here in this town and joined in
+with the crowd to get up this party, well, it
+would of been done a good deal diff'rent.  I won't
+say better, but diff'rent.  That's always the way
+with me if I go into anything, pretty soon I'm
+running the whole shebang; I dunno why it is. 
+The other people might try to run it their way
+for a while, but pretty soon you notice 'em beginning
+to step out of the way for good ole George. 
+I dunno why it is, but that's the way it goes. 
+Well, if I'd been running THIS party I'd of had
+automobiles to go out in, not a trolley-car where
+you all got to sit together--and I'd of sent over
+home for my little racer and I'd of taken you
+out in her myself.  I wish I'd of sent for it,
+anyway.  We could of let the rest go out in the
+trolley, and you and I could of got off by ourselves:
+I'd like you to see that little car.  Well,
+anyway, I bet you'd of seen something pretty
+different and a whole lot better if I'd of come
+over to this town in time to get up this party
+for you!''
+
+``For US,'' Miss Pratt corrected him, sunnily.
+
+``Bofe strangers--party for us two--all bofe!'' 
+And she gave him one of her looks.
+
+Mr. Crooper flushed with emotion; he was
+annexed; he became serious.  ``Say,'' he said,
+``that's a mighty smooth hat you got on.''  And
+he touched the fluffy rim of it with his forefinger. 
+His fat shoulders leaned toward her yearningly.
+
+``We'd cert'nly of had a lot better time sizzin'
+along in that little racer I got,'' he said.  ``I'd
+like to had you see how I handle that little car. 
+Girls over home, they say they like to go out
+with me just to watch the way I handle her;
+they say it ain't so much just the ride, but more
+the way I handle that little car.  I dunno why
+it is, but that's what they say.  That's the way
+I do anything I make up my mind to tackle,
+though.  I don't try to tackle everything--there's
+lots o' things I wouldn't take enough interest in
+'em, as it were--but just lemme make up my
+mind once, and it's all off; I dunno why it is. 
+There was a brakeman on the train got kind of
+fresh: he didn't know who I was.  Well, I just
+put my hand on his shoulder and pushed him
+down in his seat like this''--he set his hand upon
+Miss Pratt's shoulder.  ``I didn't want to hit
+him, because there was women and chuldren in
+the car, so I just shoved my face up close to
+him, like this.  `I guess you don't know how
+much stock my father's got in this road,' I says. 
+Did he wilt?  Well, you ought of seen that brakeman
+when I got through tellin' him who I was!''
+
+``Nassy ole brateman!'' said Miss Pratt, with
+unfailing sympathy.
+
+Mr. Crooper's fat hand, as if unconsciously,
+gave Miss Pratt's delicate shoulder a little pat
+in reluctant withdrawal.  ``Well, that's the way
+with me,'' he said.  ``Much as I been around this
+world, nobody ever tried to put anything over on
+me and got away with it.  They always come
+out the little end o' the horn; I dunno why it is. 
+Say, that's a mighty smooth locket you got on
+the end o' that chain, there.''  And again stretching
+forth his hand, in a proprietor-like way, he
+began to examine the locket.
+
+Three hot hearts, just behind, pulsated hatred
+toward him; for Johnnie Watson had perceived
+his error, and his sentiments were now linked to
+those of Joe Bullitt and William.  The unhappiness
+of these three helpless spectators was the
+more poignant because not only were they
+witnesses of the impression of greatness which
+George Crooper was obviously producing upon
+Miss Pratt, but they were unable to prevent
+themselves from being likewise impressed.
+
+They were not analytical; they dumbly
+accepted George at his own rating, not even being
+able to charge him with lack of modesty.  Did
+he not always accompany his testimonials to
+himself with his deprecating falsetto laugh and
+``I dunno why it is,'' an official disclaimer of
+merit, ``as it were''?  Here was a formidable
+candidate, indeed--a traveler, a man of the world,
+with brains better and quicker than other people's
+brains; an athlete, yet knightly--he would not
+destroy even a brakeman in the presence of
+women and children--and, finally, most enviable
+and deadly, the owner and operator of a ``little
+racer''!  All this glitter was not far short of
+overpowering; and yet, though accepting it as
+fact, the woeful three shared the inconsistent
+belief that in spite of everything George was
+nothing but a big, fat lummox.  For thus they
+even rather loudly whispered of him--almost as
+if hopeful that Miss Pratt, and mayhap George
+himself, might overhear.
+
+Impotent their seething!  The overwhelming
+Crooper pursued his conquering way.  He leaned
+more and more toward the magnetic girl, his
+growing tenderness having that effect upon him,
+and his head inclining so far that his bedewed
+brow now and then touched the fluffy hat.  He
+was constitutionally restless, but his movements
+never ended by placing a greater distance
+between himself and Miss Pratt, though they
+sometimes discommoded Miss Parcher, who sat at
+the other side of him--a side of him which
+appeared to be without consciousness.  He played
+naively with Miss Pratt's locket and with the
+filmy border of her collar; he flicked his nose for
+some time with her little handkerchief, loudly
+sniffing its scent; and finally he became interested
+in a ring she wore, removed it, and tried
+unsuccessfully to place it upon one of his own
+fingers.
+
+``I've worn lots o' girls' rings on my watch-fob. 
+I'd let 'em wear mine on a chain or something. 
+I guess they like to do that with me,'' he said. 
+``I dunno why it is.''
+
+At this subtle hint the three unfortunates held
+their breath, and then lost it as the lovely girl
+acquiesced in the horrible exchange.  As for
+William, life was of no more use to him.  Out of
+the blue heaven of that bright morning's promise
+had fallen a pall, draping his soul in black and
+purple.  He had been horror-stricken when first
+the pudgy finger of George Crooper had touched
+the fluffy edge of that sacred little hat; then,
+during George's subsequent pawings and leanings,
+William felt that he must either rise and murder
+or go mad.  But when the exchange of rings was
+accomplished, his spirit broke and even resentment
+oozed away.  For a time there was no room
+in him for anything except misery.
+
+Dully, William's eyes watched the fat shoulders
+hitching and twitching, while the heavy arms
+flourished in gesture and in further pawings. 
+Again and again were William's ears afflicted
+with, ``I dunno why it is,'' following upon tribute
+after tribute paid by Mr. Crooper to himself, and
+received with little cries of admiration and sweet
+child-words on the part of Miss Pratt.  It was a
+long and accursed ride.
+
+
+
+XX
+
+SYDNEY CARTON
+
+At the farm-house where the party were to dine,
+Miss Pratt with joy discovered a harmonium
+in the parlor, and, seating herself, with all the
+girls, Flopit, and Mr. George Crooper gathered
+around her, she played an accompaniment, while
+George, in a thin tenor of detestable sweetness,
+sang ``I'm Falling in Love with Some One.''
+
+His performance was rapturously greeted,
+especially by the accompanist.  ``Oh, wunnerfulest
+Untle Georgiecums!'' she cried, for that was now
+the gentleman's name.  ``If Johnnie McCormack
+hear Untle Georgiecums he go shoot umself dead--
+Bang!''  She looked round to where three figures
+hovered morosely in the rear.  ``Tum on, sin'
+chorus, Big Bruvva Josie-Joe, Johnny Jump-up,
+an' Ickle Boy Baxter.  All over adain, Untle
+Georgiecums!  Boys an' dirls all sin' chorus.
+Tummence!''
+
+And so the heartrending performance continued
+until it was stopped by Wallace Banks, the
+altruistic and perspiring youth who had charge
+of the subscription-list for the party, and the
+consequent collection of assessments.  This
+entitled Wallace to look haggard and to act as
+master of ceremonies.  He mounted a chair.
+
+``Ladies and gentlemen,'' he bellowed, ``I want
+to say--that is--ah--I am requested to announce t
+that before dinner we're all supposed to take a
+walk around the farm and look at things, as this
+is supposed to be kind of a model farm or
+supposed to be something like that.  There's a
+Swedish lady named Anna going to show us
+around.  She's out in the yard waiting, so please
+follow her to inspect the farm.''
+
+To inspect a farm was probably the least of
+William's desires.  He wished only to die in some
+quiet spot and to have Miss Pratt told about it in
+words that would show her what she had thrown
+away.  But he followed with the others, in the
+wake of the Swedish lady named Anna, and as
+they stood in the cavernous hollow of the great
+barn he found his condition suddenly improved.
+
+Miss Pratt turned to him unexpectedly and
+placed Flopit in his arms.  ``Keep p'eshus Flopit
+cozy,'' she whispered.  ``Flopit love ole friends
+best!''
+
+William's heart leaped, while a joyous warmth
+spread all over him.  And though the execrable
+lummox immediately propelled Miss Pratt forward--
+by her elbow--to hear the descriptive
+remarks of the Swedish lady named Anna, William's
+soul remained uplifted and entranced.  She
+had not said ``like''; she had said, ``Flopit LOVE
+ole friends best''!  William pressed forward valiantly,
+and placed himself as close as possible
+upon the right of Miss Pratt, the lummox being
+upon her left.  A moment later, William wished
+that he had remained in the rear.
+
+This was due to the unnecessary frankness of
+the Swedish lady named Anna, who was briefly
+pointing out the efficiency of various agricultural
+devices.  Her attention being diverted by some
+effusions of pride on the part of a passing hen,
+she thought fit to laugh and say:
+
+``She yust laid egg.''
+
+William shuddered.  This grossness in the presence
+of Miss Pratt was unthinkable.  His mind
+refused to deal with so impossible a situation; he
+could not accept it as a fact that such words had
+actually been uttered in such a presence.  And
+yet it was the truth; his incredulous ears still
+sizzled.  ``She yust laid egg!''  His entire skin
+became flushed; his averted eyes glazed themselves
+with shame.
+
+He was not the only person shocked by the
+ribaldry of the Swedish lady named Anna.  Joe
+Bullitt and Johnnie Watson, on the outskirts of
+the group, went to Wallace Banks, drew him
+aside, and, with feverish eloquence, set his 
+responsibilities before him.  It was his duty, they
+urged, to have an immediate interview with this
+free-spoken Anna and instruct her in the proprieties. 
+Wallace had been almost as horrified as
+they by her loose remark, but he declined the
+office they proposed for him, offering, however,
+to appoint them as a committee with authority
+in the matter--whereupon they retorted with
+unreasonable indignation, demanding to know
+what he took them for.
+
+Unconscious of the embarrassment she had
+caused in these several masculine minds, the
+Swedish lady named Anna led the party onward,
+continuing her agricultural lecture.  William
+walked mechanically, his eyes averted and looking
+at no one.  And throughout this agony he
+was burningly conscious of the blasphemed
+presence of Miss Pratt beside him.
+
+Therefore, it was with no little surprise, when
+the party came out of the barn, that William
+beheld Miss Pratt, not walking at his side, but
+on the contrary, sitting too cozily with George
+Crooper upon a fallen tree at the edge of a peach-
+orchard just beyond the barn-yard.  It was Miss
+Parcher who had been walking beside him, for
+the truant couple had made their escape at the
+beginning of the Swedish lady's discourse.
+
+In vain William murmured to himself, ``Flopit
+love ole friends best.''  Purple and black again
+descended upon his soul, for he could not disguise
+from himself the damnatory fact that George
+had flitted with the lady, while he, wretched William,
+had been permitted to take care of the dog!
+
+A spark of dignity still burned within him.  He
+strode to the barn-yard fence, and, leaning over it,
+dropped Flopit rather brusquely at his mistress's
+feet.  Then, without a word even without a look
+--William walked haughtily away, continuing his
+stern progress straight through the barn-yard
+gate, and thence onward until he found himself
+in solitude upon the far side of a smoke-house,
+where his hauteur vanished.
+
+Here, in the shade of a great walnut-tree which
+sheltered the little building, he gave way--not to
+tears, certainly, but to faint murmurings and
+little heavings under impulses as ancient as young
+love itself.  It is to be supposed that William
+considered his condition a lonely one, but if all the
+seventeen-year-olds who have known such half-
+hours could have shown themselves to him then,
+he would have fled from the mere horror of
+billions.  Alas! he considered his sufferings a new
+invention in the world, and there was now inspired
+in his breast a monologue so eloquently bitter
+that it might deserve some such title as A Passion
+Beside the Smoke-house.  During the little time
+that William spent in this sequestration he
+passed through phases of emotion which would
+have kept an older man busy for weeks and left
+him wrecked at the end of them.
+
+William's final mood was one of beautiful
+resignation with a kick in it; that is, he nobly gave
+her up to George and added irresistibly that
+George was a big, fat lummox!  Painting pictures,
+such as the billions of other young sufferers
+before him have painted, William saw
+himself a sad, gentle old bachelor at the family
+fireside, sometimes making the sacrifice of his
+reputation so that SHE and the children might
+never know the truth about George; and he gave
+himself the solace of a fierce scene or two with
+George:  ``Remember, it is for them, not you--
+you THING!''
+
+After this human little reaction he passed to
+a higher field of romance.  He would die for
+George and then she would bring the little boy
+she had named William to the lonely headstone--
+Suddenly William saw himself in his true and
+fitting character--Sydney Carton!  He had
+lately read A Tale of Two Cities, immediately
+re-reading until, as he would have said, he ``knew
+it by heart''; and even at the time he had seen
+resemblances between himself and the appealing
+figure of Carton.  Now that the sympathy between
+them was perfected by Miss Pratt's preference
+for another, William decided to mount the
+scaffold in place of George Crooper.  The scene
+became actual to him, and, setting one foot upon
+a tin milk-pail which some one had carelessly
+left beside the smoke-house, he lifted his eyes to
+the pitiless blue sky and unconsciously assumed
+the familiar attitude of Carton on the steps of
+the guillotine.  He spoke aloud those great last
+words:
+
+``It is a far, far better thing that I do, than
+I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that
+I go to--''
+
+A whiskered head on the end of a long,
+corrugated red neck protruded from the smoke-
+house door.
+
+``What say?'' it inquired, huskily.
+
+``Nun-nothing!'' stammered William.
+
+Eyes above whiskers became fierce.  ``You
+take your feet off that milk-bucket.  Say!  This
+here's a sanitary farm.  'Ain't you got any more
+sense 'n to go an'--''
+
+But William had abruptly removed his foot
+and departed.
+
+He found the party noisily established in the
+farm-house at two long tables piled with bucolic
+viands already being violently depleted.  Johnnie
+Watson had kept a chair beside himself vacant for
+William.  Johnnie was in no frame of mind to sit
+beside any ``chattering girl,'' and he had
+protected himself by Joe Bullitt upon his right and
+the empty seat upon his left.  William took it,
+and gazed upon the nearer foods with a slight
+renewal of animation.
+
+He began to eat; he continued to eat; in fact,
+he did well.  So did his two comrades.  Not that
+the melancholy of these three was dispersed--
+far from it!  With ineffaceable gloom they ate
+chicken, both white meat and dark, drumsticks,
+wishbones, and livers; they ate corn-on-the-cob,
+many ears, and fried potatoes and green peas
+and string-beans; they ate peach preserves and
+apricot preserves and preserved pears; they ate
+biscuits with grape jelly and biscuits with crab-
+apple jelly; they ate apple sauce and apple butter
+and apple pie.  They ate pickles, both cucumber
+pickles and pickles made of watermelon rind;
+they ate pickled tomatoes, pickled peppers, also
+pickled onions.  They ate lemon pie.
+
+At that, they were no rivals to George Crooper,
+who was a real eater.  Love had not made his
+appetite ethereal to-day, and even the attending
+Swedish lady named Anna felt some apprehension
+when it came to George and the gravy,
+though she was accustomed to the prodigies
+performed in this line by the robust hands on the
+farm.  George laid waste his section of the
+table, and from the beginning he allowed himself
+scarce time to say, ``I dunno why it is.''  The
+pretty companion at his side at first gazed
+dumfounded; then, with growing enthusiasm for
+what promised to be a really magnificent
+performance, she began to utter little ejaculations of
+wonder and admiration.  With this music in his
+ears, George outdid himself.  He could not resist
+the temptation to be more and more astonishing
+as a heroic comedian, for these humors sometimes
+come upon vain people at country dinners.
+
+George ate when he had eaten more than he
+needed; he ate long after every one understood
+why he was so vast; he ate on and on sheerly
+as a flourish--as a spectacle.  He ate even
+when he himself began to understand that there
+was daring in what he did, for his was a toreador
+spirit so long as he could keep bright eyes fastened
+upon him.
+
+Finally, he ate to decide wagers made upon his
+gorging, though at times during this last period
+his joviality deserted him.  Anon his damp brow
+would be troubled, and he knew moments of
+thoughtfulness.
+
+
+
+XXI
+
+MY LITTLE SWEETHEARTS
+
+When George did stop, it was abruptly,
+during one of these intervals of sobriety,
+and he and Miss Pratt came out of the
+house together rather quietly, joining one of the
+groups of young people chatting with after-
+dinner languor under the trees.  However, Mr.
+Crooper began to revive presently, in the sweet
+air of outdoors, and, observing some of the more
+flashing gentlemen lighting cigarettes, he was
+moved to laughter.  He had not smoked since
+his childhood--having then been bonded through
+to twenty-one with a pledge of gold--and he
+feared that these smoking youths might feel
+themselves superior.  Worse, Miss Pratt might be
+impressed, therefore he laughed in scorn, saying:
+
+``Burnin' up ole trash around here, I expect!''
+He sniffed searchingly.  ``Somebody's set some
+ole rags on fire.''  Then, as in discovery, he
+cried, ``Oh no, only cigarettes!''
+
+Miss Pratt, that tactful girl, counted four
+smokers in the group about her, and only one
+abstainer, George.  She at once defended the
+smokers, for it is to be feared that numbers
+always had weight with her.  ``Oh, but cigarettes
+is lubly smell!'' she said.  ``Untle Georgiecums
+maybe be too 'ittle boy for smokings!''
+
+This archness was greeted loudly by the
+smokers, and Mr. Crooper was put upon his
+mettle.  He spoke too quickly to consider
+whether or no the facts justified his assertion. 
+``Me?  I don't smoke paper and ole carpets.  I
+smoke cigars!''
+
+He had created the right impression, for Miss
+Pratt clapped her hands.  ``Oh, 'plendid!  Light
+one, Untle Georgiecums!  Light one ever 'n' ever
+so quick!  P'eshus Flopit an' me we want see
+dray, big, 'normous man smoke dray, big,
+'normous cigar!''
+
+William and Johnnie Watson, who had been
+hovering morbidly, unable to resist the lodestone,
+came nearer, Johnnie being just in time to hear
+his cousin's reply.
+
+``I--I forgot my cigar-case.''
+
+Johnnie's expression became one of biting
+skepticism.  ``What you talkin' about, George? 
+Didn't you promise Uncle George you'd never
+smoke till you're of age, and Uncle George said
+he'd give you a thousand dollars on your twenty-
+first birthday?  What 'd you say about your
+`cigar-case'?''
+
+George felt that he was in a tight place, and
+the lovely eyes of Miss Pratt turned upon him
+questioningly.  He could not flush, for he was
+already so pink after his exploits with
+unnecessary nutriment that more pinkness was
+impossible.  He saw that the only safety for him
+lay in boisterous prevarication.  ``A thousand
+dollars!'' he laughed loudly.  ``I thought that
+was real money when I was ten years old!  It
+didn't stand in MY way very long, I guess!  Good
+ole George wanted his smoke, and he went after
+it!  You know how I am, Johnnie, when I go
+after anything.  I been smokin' cigars I dunno
+how long!''  Glancing about him, his eye became
+reassured; it was obvious that even Johnnie had
+accepted this airy statement as the truth, and to
+clinch plausibility he added:  ``When I smoke, I
+smoke!  I smoke cigars straight along--light one
+right on the stub of the other.  I only wish I had
+some with me, because I miss 'em after a meal. 
+I'd give a good deal for something to smoke
+right now!  I don't mean cigarettes; I don't
+want any paper--I want something that's all
+tobacco!''
+
+William's pale, sad face showed a hint of color. 
+With a pang he remembered the package of
+My Little Sweetheart All-Tobacco Cuban Cigarettes
+(the Package of Twenty for Ten Cents)
+which still reposed, untouched, in the breast
+pocket of his coat.  His eyes smarted a little
+as he recalled the thoughts and hopes that had
+accompanied the purchase; but he thought,
+``What would Sydney Carton do?''
+
+William brought forth the package of My
+Little Sweetheart All-Tobacco Cuban Cigarettes
+and placed it in the large hand of George Crooper. 
+And this was a noble act, for William believed
+that George really wished to smoke.  ``Here,'' he
+said, ``take these; they're all tobacco.  I'm
+goin' to quit smokin', anyway.''  And, thinking
+of the name, he added, gently, with a significance
+lost upon all his hearers, ``I'm sure you ought to
+have 'em instead of me.''
+
+Then he went away and sat alone upon the
+fence.
+
+``Light one, light one!'' cried Miss Pratt.
+``Ev'ybody mus' be happy, an' dray, big,
+'normous man tan't be happy 'less he have his
+all-tobatto smote.  Light it, light it!''
+
+George drew as deep a breath as his diaphragm,
+strangely oppressed since dinner, would permit,
+and then bravely lit a Little Sweetheart.  There
+must have been some valiant blood in him,
+for, as he exhaled the smoke, he covered a slight
+choking by exclaiming, loudly:  ``THAT'S good!
+That's the ole stuff!  That's what I was lookin'
+for!''
+
+Miss Pratt was entranced.  ``Oh, 'plendid!''
+she cried, watching him with fascinated eyes. 
+``Now take dray, big, 'normous puffs!  Take
+dray, big, 'NORMOUS puffs!''
+
+George took great, big, enormous puffs.
+
+She declared that she loved to watch men
+smoke, and William's heart, as he sat on the
+distant fence, was wrung and wrung again by the
+vision of her playful ecstasies.  But when he saw
+her holding what was left of the first Little
+Sweetheart for George to light a second at its
+expiring spark, he could not bear it.  He dropped
+from the fence and moped away to be out of sight
+once more.  This was his darkest hour.
+
+Studiously avoiding the vicinity of the smoke-
+house, he sought the little orchard where he had
+beheld her sitting with George; and there he sat
+himself in sorrowful reverie upon the selfsame
+fallen tree.  How long he remained there is
+uncertain, but he was roused by the sound of music
+which came from the lawn before the farm-
+house.  Bitterly he smiled, remembering that
+Wallace Banks had engaged Italians with harp,
+violin, and flute, promising great things for
+dancing on a fresh-clipped lawn--a turf floor
+being no impediment to seventeen's dancing. 
+Music!  To see her whirling and smiling sunnily
+in the fat grasp of that dancing bear!  He
+would stay in this lonely orchard; SHE would not
+miss him.
+
+But though he hated the throbbing music and
+the sound of the laughing voices that came to
+him, he could not keep away--and when he
+reached the lawn where the dancers were, he
+found Miss Pratt moving rhythmically in the thin
+grasp of Wallace Banks.  Johnnie Watson
+approached, and spoke in a low tone, tinged with
+spiteful triumph.
+
+``Well, anyway, ole fat George didn't get the
+first dance with her!  She's the guest of honor,
+and Wallace had a right to it because he did all
+the work.  He came up to 'em and ole fat
+George couldn't say a thing.  Wallace just took
+her right away from him.  George didn't say
+anything at all, but I s'pose after this dance he'll
+be rushin' around again and nobody else 'll have
+a chance to get near her the rest of the afternoon. 
+My mother told me I ought to invite him over
+here, out I had no business to do it; he don't
+know the first principles of how to act in a town
+he don't live in!''
+
+``Where'd he go?'' William asked, listlessly,
+for Mr. Crooper was nowhere in sight.
+
+``I don't know--he just walked off without
+sayin' anything.  But he'll be back, time this
+dance is over, never you fear, and he'll grab her
+again and--  What's the matter with Joe?''
+
+Joseph Bullitt had made his appearance at a
+corner of the house, some distance from where
+they stood.  His face was alert under the impulse
+of strong excitement, and he beckoned fiercely. 
+``Come here!''  And, when they had obeyed,
+``He's around back of the house by a kind of
+shed,'' said Joe.  ``I think something's wrong. 
+Come on, I'll show him to you.''
+
+But behind the house, whither they followed
+him in vague, strange hope, he checked them. 
+``LOOK THERE!'' he said.
+
+His pointing finger was not needed.  Sounds
+of paroxysm drew their attention sufficiently--
+sounds most poignant, soul-rending, and
+lugubrious.  William and Johnnie perceived the
+large person of Mr. Crooper; he was seated upon
+the ground, his back propped obliquely against
+the smoke-house, though this attitude was not
+maintained constantly.
+
+Facing him, at a little distance, a rugged figure
+in homely garments stood leaning upon a hoe
+and regarding George with a cold interest. 
+The apex of this figure was a volcanic straw hat,
+triangular in profile and coned with an open
+crater emitting reddish wisps, while below the hat
+were several features, but more whiskers, at the
+top of a long, corrugated red neck of sterling
+worth.  A husky voice issued from the whiskers,
+addressing George.
+
+``I seen you!'' it said.  ``I seen you eatin'! 
+This here farm is supposed to be a sanitary farm,
+and you'd ought of knew better.  Go it, doggone
+you!  Go it!''
+
+George complied.  And three spectators,
+remaining aloof, but watching zealously, began
+to feel their lost faith in Providence returning
+into them; their faces brightened slowly, and
+without relapse.  It was a visible thing how the
+world became fairer and better in their eyes
+during that little while they stood there.  And
+William saw that his Little Sweethearts had been
+an inspired purchase, after all; they had
+delivered the final tap upon a tottering edifice. 
+George's deeds at dinner had unsettled, but
+Little Sweethearts had overthrown--and now
+there was awful work among the ruins, to an
+ironical accompaniment of music from the front
+yard, where people danced in heaven's sunshine!
+
+This accompaniment came to a stop, and
+Johnnie Watson jumped.  He seized each of his
+companions by a sleeve and spoke eagerly, his
+eyes glowing with a warm and brotherly light. 
+``Here!'' he cried.  ``We better get around there
+--this looks like it was goin' to last all afternoon. 
+Joe, you get the next dance with her, and just
+about time the music slows up you dance her
+around so you can stop right near where Bill
+will be standin', so Bill can get her quick for the
+dance after that.  Then, Bill, you do the same
+for me, and I'll do the same for Joe again, and
+then, Joe, you do it for Bill again, and then Bill
+for me--and so on.  If we go in right now and
+work together we can crowd the rest out, and
+there won't anybody else get to dance with her
+the whole day!  Come on quick!''
+
+United in purpose, the three ran lightly to the
+dancing-lawn, and Mr. Bullitt was successful,
+after a little debate, in obtaining the next dance
+with the lovely guest of the day.  ``I did promise
+big Untle Georgiecums,'' she said, looking about
+her.
+
+``Well, I don't think he'll come,'' said Joe. 
+``That is, I'm pretty sure he won't.''
+
+A shade fell upon the exquisite face.  ``No'ty. 
+Bruvva Josie-Joe!  The Men ALWAYS tum when
+Lola promises dances.  Mustn't be rude!''
+
+``Well--'' Joe began, when he was interrupted
+by the Swedish lady named Anna, who spoke
+to them from the steps of the house.  Of the
+merrymakers they were the nearest.
+
+``Dot pick fella,'' said Anna, ``dot one dot
+eats--we make him in a petroom.  He holler! 
+He tank he neet some halp.''
+
+``Does he want a doctor?'' Joe asked.
+
+``Doctor?  No!  He want make him in a
+amyoulance for hospital!''
+
+``I'll go look at him,'' Johnnie Watson
+volunteered, running up.  ``He's my cousin, and I
+guess I got to take the responsibility.''
+
+Miss Pratt paid the invalid the tribute of one
+faintly commiserating glance toward the house. 
+``Well,'' she said, ``if people would rather eat too
+much than dance!''  She meant ``dance with
+ME!'' though she thought it prettier not to say
+so.  ``Come on, Bruvva Josie-Joe!'' she cried,
+joyously.
+
+And a little later Johnnie Watson approached
+her where she stood with a restored and refulgent
+William, about to begin the succeeding dance. 
+Johnnie dropped into her hand a ring, receiving
+one in return.  ``I thought I better GET it,'' he
+said, offering no further explanation.  ``I'll take
+care of his until we get home.  He's all right,''
+said Johnnie, and then perceiving a sudden
+advent of apprehension upon the sensitive brow
+of William, he went on reassuringly:  ``He's
+doin' as well as anybody could expect; that is--
+after the crazy way he DID!  He's always been
+considered the dumbest one in all our relations--
+never did know how to act.  I don't mean he's
+exactly not got his senses, or ought to be watched,
+anything like that--and of course he belongs to
+an awful good family--but he's just kind of the
+black sheep when it comes to intelligence, or
+anything like that.  I got him as comfortable as a
+person could be, and they're givin' him hot water
+and mustard and stuff, but what he needs now is
+just to be kind of quiet.  It'll do him a lot o'
+good,'' Johnnie concluded, with a spark in his
+voice, ``to lay there the rest of the afternoon and
+get quieted down, kind of.''
+
+``You don't think there's any--'' William
+began, and, after a pause, continued--``any hope
+--of his getting strong enough to come out and
+dance afterwhile?''
+
+Johnnie shook his head.  ``None in the
+world!'' he said, conclusively.  ``The best we can
+do for him is to let him entirely alone till after
+supper, and then ask nobody to sit on the back
+seat of the trolley-car goin' home, so we can
+make him comfortable back there, and let him
+kind of stretch out by himself.''
+
+Then gaily tinkled harp, gaily sang flute and
+violin!  Over the greensward William lightly
+bore his lady, while radiant was the cleared sky
+above the happy dancers.  William's fingers
+touched those delicate fingers; the exquisite
+face smiled rosily up to him; undreamable sweetness
+beat rhythmically upon his glowing ears;
+his feet moved in a rhapsody of companionship
+with hers.  They danced and danced and danced!
+
+Then Joe danced with her, while William and
+Johnnie stood with hands upon each other's
+shoulders and watched, mayhap with longing,
+but without spite; then Johnnie danced with her
+while Joe and William watched--and then William
+danced with her again.
+
+So passed the long, ineffable afternoon away--
+ah, Seventeen!
+
+``. . . 'Jav a good time at the trolley-party?''
+the clerk in the corner drug-store inquired that
+evening.
+
+``Fine!'' said William, taking his overcoat
+from the hook where he had left it.
+
+``How j' like them Little Sweethearts I sold
+you?''
+
+``FINE!'' said William.
+
+
+
+XXII
+
+FORESHADOWINGS
+
+Now the last rose had blown; the dandelion
+globes were long since on the wind;
+gladioli and golden-glow and salvia were here;
+the season moved toward asters and the goldenrod. 
+This haloed summer still idled on its way,
+yet all the while sped quickly; like some languid
+lady in an elevator.
+
+There came a Sunday--very hot.
+
+Mr. and Mrs. Baxter, having walked a scorched
+half-mile from church, drooped thankfully into
+wicker chairs upon their front porch, though
+Jane, who had accompanied them, immediately
+darted away, swinging her hat by its ribbon and
+skipping as lithesomely as if she had just come
+forth upon a cool morning.
+
+``I don't know how she does it!'' her father
+moaned, glancing after her and drying his forehead
+temporarily upon a handkerchief.  ``That
+would merely kill me dead, after walking in
+this heat.''
+
+Then, for a time, the two were content to sit
+in silence, nodding to occasional acquaintances
+who passed in the desultory after-church
+procession.  Mr. Baxter fanned himself with sporadic
+little bursts of energy which made his straw hat
+creak, and Mrs. Baxter sighed with the heat, and
+gently rocked her chair.
+
+But as a group of five young people passed
+along the other side of the street Mr. Baxter
+abruptly stopped fanning himself, and, following
+the direction of his gaze, Mrs. Baxter ceased to
+rock.  In half-completed attitudes they leaned
+slightly forward, sharing one of those pauses
+of parents who unexpectedly behold their offspring.
+
+``My soul!'' said William's father.  ``Hasn't
+that girl gone home YET?''
+
+``He looks pale to me,'' Mrs. Baxter murmured,
+absently.  ``I don't think he seems at all well,
+lately.''
+
+During seventeen years Mr. Baxter had gradually
+learned not to protest anxieties of this kind,
+unless he desired to argue with no prospect of
+ever getting a decision.  ``Hasn't she got any
+HOME?'' he demanded, testily.  ``Isn't she ever
+going to quit visiting the Parchers and let people
+have a little peace?''
+
+Mrs. Baxter disregarded this outburst as he
+had disregarded her remark about William's
+pallor.  ``You mean Miss Pratt?'' she inquired,
+dreamily, her eyes following the progress of her
+son.  ``No, he really doesn't look well at all.''
+
+``Is she going to visit the Parchers all summer?''
+Mr. Baxter insisted.
+
+``She already has, about,'' said Mrs. Baxter.
+
+``Look at that boy!'' the father grumbled. 
+``Mooning along with those other moon-calves--
+can't even let her go to church alone!  I wonder
+how many weeks of time, counting it out in
+hours, he's wasted that way this summer?''
+
+``Oh, I don't know!  You see, he never goes
+there in the evening.''
+
+``What of that?  He's there all day, isn't he? 
+What do they find to talk about?  That's the
+mystery to me!  Day after day; hours and hours--
+My soul!  What do they SAY?''
+
+Mrs. Baxter laughed indulgently.  ``People are
+always wondering that about the other ages. 
+Poor Willie!  I think that a great deal of the
+time their conversation would be probably about
+as inconsequent as it is now.  You see Willie
+and Joe Bullitt are walking one on each side of
+Miss Pratt, and Johnnie Watson has to walk
+behind with May Parcher.  Joe and Johnnie are
+there about as much as Willie is, and, of course,
+it's often his turn to be nice to May Parcher.  He
+hasn't many chances to be tete-a-tete with Miss
+Pratt.''
+
+``Well, she ought to go home.  I want that boy
+to get back into his senses.  He's in an awful
+state.''
+
+``I think she is going soon,'' said Mrs. Baxter. 
+``The Parchers are to have a dance for her
+Friday night, and I understand there's to be a
+floor laid in the yard and great things.  It's a
+farewell party.''
+
+``That's one mercy, anyhow!''
+
+``And if you wonder what they say,'' she
+resumed, ``why, probably they're all talking
+about the party.  And when Willie IS alone with
+her--well, what does anybody say?'' Mrs. Baxter
+interrupted herself to laugh.  ``Jane, for
+instance--she's always fascinated by that darky,
+Genesis, when he's at work here in the yard, and
+they have long, long talks; I've seen them from
+the window.  What on earth do you suppose
+they talk about?  That's where Jane is now. 
+She knew I told Genesis I'd give him something
+if he'd come and freeze the ice-cream for us to-
+day, and when we got here she heard the freezer
+and hopped right around there.  If you went out
+to the back porch you'd find them talking
+steadily--but what on earth about I couldn't
+guess to save my life!''
+
+And yet nothing could have been simpler: as
+a matter of fact, Jane and Genesis (attended by
+Clematis) were talking about society.  That is to
+say, their discourse was not sociologic; rather it
+was of the frivolous and elegant.  Watteau
+prevailed with them over John Stuart Mill--in a
+word, they spoke of the beau monde.
+
+Genesis turned the handle of the freezer with
+his left hand, allowing his right the freedom of
+gesture which was an intermittent necessity when
+he talked.  In the matter of dress, Genesis had
+always been among the most informal of his race,
+but to-day there was a change almost unnerving
+to the Caucasian eye.  He wore a balloonish suit
+of purple, strangely scalloped at pocket and cuff,
+and more strangely decorated with lines of small
+parasite buttons, in color blue, obviously buttons
+of leisure.  His bulbous new shoes flashed back
+yellow fire at the embarrassed sun, and his collar
+(for he had gone so far) sent forth other sparkles,
+playing upon a polished surface over an inner
+graining of soot.  Beneath it hung a simple,
+white, soiled evening tie, draped in a manner
+unintended by its manufacturer, and heavily
+overburdened by a green glass medallion of the
+Emperor Tiberius, set in brass.
+
+``Yesm,'' said Genesis.  ``Now I'm in 'at
+Swim--flyin' roun' ev'y night wif all lem blue-
+vein people--I say, `Mus' go buy me some
+blue-vein clo'es! Ef I'm go'n' a START, might's
+well start HIGH!'  So firs', I buy me thishere gol'
+necktie pin wi' thishere lady's face carved out o'
+green di'mon', sittin' in the middle all 'at gol'. 
+'Nen I buy me pair Royal King shoes.  I got a
+frien' o' mine, thishere Blooie Bowers; he say
+Royal King shoes same kine o' shoes HE wear, an'
+I walk straight in 'at sto' where they keep 'em
+at.  `Don' was'e my time showin' me no ole-
+time shoes,' I say.  `Run out some them big,
+yella, lump-toed Royal Kings befo' my eyes, an'
+firs' pair fit me I pay price, an' wear 'em right
+off on me!'  'Nen I got me thishere suit o' clo'es
+--OH, oh!  Sign on 'em in window:  `Ef you wish
+to be bes'-dress' man in town take me home fer
+six dolluhs ninety-sevum cents.'  ` 'At's kine o'
+suit Genesis need,' I say.  `Ef Genesis go'n' a
+start dressin' high, might's well start top!' ''
+
+Jane nodded gravely, comprehending the
+reasonableness of this view.  ``What made you
+decide to start, Genesis?'' she asked, earnestly.  ``I
+mean, how did it happen you began to get
+this way?''
+
+``Well, suh, 'tall come 'bout right like kine
+o' slidin' into it 'stid o' hoppin' an' jumpin'.  I'z
+spen' the even' at 'at lady's house, Fanny, what
+cook nex' do', las' year.  Well, suh, 'at lady
+Fanny, she quit privut cookin', she kaytliss--''
+
+``She's what?'' Jane asked.  ``What's that
+mean, Genesis--kaytliss?''
+
+``She kaytuhs,'' he explained.  ``Ef it's a man
+you call him kaytuh; ef it's a lady, she's a
+kaytliss.  She does kaytun fer all lem blue-vein
+fam'lies in town.  She make ref'eshmuns, bring
+waituhs--'at's kaytun.  You' maw give big dinnuh,
+she have Fanny kaytuh, an' don't take no
+trouble 'tall herself.  Fanny take all 'at trouble.''
+
+``I see,'' said Jane.  ``But I don't see how her
+bein' a kaytliss started you to dressin' so high,
+Genesis.''
+
+``Thishere way.  Fanny say, `Look here,
+Genesis, I got big job t'morra night an' I'm man
+short, 'count o' havin' to have a 'nouncer.' ''
+
+``A what?''
+
+``Fanny talk jes' that way.  Goin' be big
+dinnuh-potty, an' thishere blue-vein fam'ly tell
+Fanny they want whole lot extry sploogin'; tell
+her put fine-lookin' cullud man stan' by drawin'-
+room do'--ask ev'ybody name an' holler out
+whatever name they say, jes' as they walk in. 
+Thishere fam'ly say they goin' show what's what,
+'nis town, an' they boun' Fanny go git 'em a
+'nouncer.  `Well, what's mattuh YOU doin' 'at
+'nouncin'?' Fanny say.  `Who--me?' I tell her. 
+`Yes, you kin, too!' she say, an' she say she len'
+me 'at waituh suit yoosta b'long ole Henry
+Gimlet what die' when he owin' Fanny sixteen
+dolluhs--an' Fanny tuck an' keep 'at waituh suit. 
+She use 'at suit on extry waituhs when she got
+some on her hands what 'ain't got no waituh suit. 
+`You wear 'at suit,' Fanny say, 'an' you be good
+'nouncer, 'cause you' a fine, big man, an' got a
+big, gran' voice; 'nen you learn befo' long be a
+waituh, Genesis, an' git dolluh an' half ev'y even'
+you waitin ', 'sides all 'at money you make cuttin'
+grass daytime.'  Well, suh, I'z stan' up doin' 'at
+'nouncin' ve'y nex' night.  White lady an' ge'l-
+mun walk todes my do', I step up to 'em--I step
+up to 'em thisaway.''
+
+Here Genesis found it pleasant to present the
+scene with some elaboration.  He dropped the
+handle of the freezer, rose, assumed a stately,
+but ingratiating, expression, and ``stepped up'' to
+the imagined couple, using a pacing and rhythmic
+gait--a conservative prance, which plainly indicated
+the simultaneous operation of an orchestra. 
+Then bending graciously, as though the persons
+addressed were of dwarfish stature, `` 'Scuse me,''
+he said, ``but kin I please be so p'lite as to 'quiah
+you' name?''  For a moment he listened attentively,
+then nodded, and, returning with the same
+aristocratic undulations to an imaginary doorway
+near the freezer, ``Misto an' Missuz Orlosko
+Rinktum!'' he proclaimed, sonorously.
+
+``WHO?'' cried Jane, fascinated.  ``Genesis,
+'nounce that again, right away!''
+
+Genesis heartily complied.
+
+``Misto an' Missuz Orlosko Rinktum!'' he
+bawled.
+
+``Was that really their names?'' she asked,
+eagerly.
+
+``Well, I kine o' fergit,'' Genesis admitted,
+resuming his work with the freezer.  ``Seem like
+I rickalect SOMEBODY got name good deal like
+what I say, 'cause some mighty blue-vein names
+at 'at dinnuh-potty, yessuh!  But I on'y git to
+be 'nouncer one time, 'cause Fanny tellin' me
+nex' fam'ly have dinnuh-potty make heap o' fun. 
+Say I done my 'nouncin' GOOD, but say what's
+use holler'n' names jes' fer some the neighbors or
+they own aunts an' uncles to walk in, when ev'y-
+body awready knows 'em?  So Fanny pummote
+me to waituh, an' I roun' right in amongs' big
+doin's mos' ev'y night.  Pass ice-cream, lemonade,
+lemon-ice, cake, samwitches.  `Lemme han'
+you li'l' mo' chicken salad, ma'am'--` 'Low me be
+so kine as to git you f'esh cup coffee, suh'--'S
+way ole Genesis talkin' ev'y even' 'ese days!''
+
+Jane looked at him thoughtfully.  ``Do you like
+it better than cuttin' grass, Genesis?'' she asked.
+
+He paused to consider.  ``Yes'm--when ban'
+play all lem TUNES!  My goo'ness, do soun' gran'!''
+
+``You can't do it to-night, though, Genesis,''
+said Jane.  ``You haf to be quiet on Sunday
+nights, don't you?''
+
+``Yes'm.  'Ain' got no mo' kaytun till nex'
+Friday even'.''
+
+``Oh, I bet that's the party for Miss Pratt at
+Mr. Parcher's!'' Jane cried.  ``Didn't I guess
+right?''
+
+``Yes'm.  I reckon I'm a-go'n' a see one you'
+fam'ly 'at night; see him dancin'--wait on him
+at ref'eshmuns.''
+
+Jane's expression became even more serious
+than usual.  ``Willie?  I don't know whether he's
+goin', Genesis.''
+
+``Lan' name!'' Genesis exclaimed.  ``He die ef
+he don' git INvite to 'at ball!''
+
+``Oh, he's invited,'' said Jane.  ``Only I think
+maybe he won't go.''
+
+``My goo'ness!  Why ain' he goin'?''
+
+Jane looked at her friend studiously before
+replying.  ``Well, it's a secret,'' she said, finally,
+``but it's a very inter'sting one, an' I'll tell you
+if you never tell.''
+
+``Yes'm, I ain' tellin' nobody.''
+
+Jane glanced round, then stepped a little closer
+and told the secret with the solemnity it deserved. 
+``Well, when Miss Pratt first came to visit Miss
+May Parcher, Willie used to keep papa's evening
+clo'es in his window-seat, an' mamma wondered
+what HAD become of 'em.  Then, after dinner,
+he'd slip up there an' put 'em on him, an' go out
+through the kitchen an' call on Miss Pratt. 
+Then mamma found 'em, an' she thought he
+oughtn't to do that, so she didn't tell him or
+anything, an' she didn't even tell papa, but she
+had the tailor make 'em ever an' ever so much
+bigger, 'cause they were gettin' too tight for papa. 
+An' well, so after that, even if Willie could get
+'em out o' mamma's clo'es-closet where she keeps
+'em now, he'd look so funny in 'em he couldn't
+wear 'em.  Well, an' then he couldn't go to pay
+calls on Miss Pratt in the evening since then,
+because mamma says after he started to go
+there in that suit he couldn't go without it, or
+maybe Miss Pratt or the other ones that's in love
+of her would think it was pretty queer, an' maybe
+kind of expeck it was papa's all the time. 
+Mamma says she thinks Willie must have worried
+a good deal over reasons to say why he'd
+always go in the daytime after that, an' never
+came in the evening, an' now they're goin' to
+have this party, an' she says he's been gettin'
+paler and paler every day since he heard about it. 
+Mamma says he's pale SOME because Miss Pratt's
+goin' away, but she thinks it's a good deal more
+because, well, if he would wear those evening
+clo'es just to go CALLIN', how would it be to go
+to that PARTY an' not have any!  That's what
+mamma thinks--an', Genesis, you promised you'd
+never tell as long as you live!''
+
+``Yes'm.  _I_ ain' tellin','' Genesis chuckled. 
+``I'm a-go'n' agit me one nem waituh suits befo'
+long, myse'f, so's I kin quit wearin' 'at ole Henry
+Gimlet suit what b'long to Fanny, an' have me
+a privut suit o' my own.  They's a secon'-han'
+sto' ovuh on the avynoo, where they got swaller-
+tail suits all way f'um sevum dolluhs to nineteem
+dolluhs an' ninety-eight cents.  I'm a--''
+
+Jane started, interrupting him.  `` 'SH!'' she
+whispered, laying a finger warningly upon her lips.
+
+William had entered the yard at the back
+gate, and, approaching over the lawn, had
+arrived at the steps of the porch before Jane
+perceived him.  She gave him an apprehensive look,
+but he passed into the house absent-mindedly,
+not even flinching at sight of Clematis--and Mrs.
+Baxter was right, William did look pale.
+
+``I guess he didn't hear us,'' said Jane, when
+he had disappeared into the interior.  ``He acks
+awful funny!'' she added, thoughtfully.  ``First
+when he was in love of Miss Pratt, he'd be mad
+about somep'm almost every minute he was
+home.  Couldn't anybody say ANYthing to him
+but he'd just behave as if it was frightful, an' then
+if you'd see him out walkin' with Miss Pratt,
+well, he'd look like--like--''  Jane paused; her
+eye fell upon Clematis and by a happy inspiration
+she was able to complete her simile with
+remarkable accuracy.  ``He'd look like the way
+Clematis looks at people!  That's just EXACTLY the
+way he'd look, Genesis, when he was walkin' with
+Miss Pratt; an' then when he was home he got
+so quiet he couldn't answer questions an' wouldn't
+hear what anybody said to him at table or anywhere,
+an' papa 'd nearly almost bust.  Mamma
+'n' papa 'd talk an' talk about it, an' ''--she
+lowered her voice--``an' I knew what they were
+talkin' about.  Well, an' then he'd hardly ever get
+mad any more; he'd just sit in his room, an'
+sometimes he'd sit in there without any light, or he'd
+sit out in the yard all by himself all evening,
+maybe; an' th'other evening after I was in bed
+I heard 'em, an' papa said--well, this is what
+papa told mamma.''  And again lowering her
+voice, she proffered the quotation from her
+father in atone somewhat awe-struck:  ``Papa
+said, by Gosh! if he ever 'a' thought a son of his
+could make such a Word idiot of himself he
+almost wished we'd both been girls!''
+
+Having completed this report in a violent
+whisper, Jane nodded repeatedly, for emphasis,
+and Genesis shook his head to show that he was
+as deeply impressed as she wished him to be. 
+``I guess,'' she added, after a pause ``I guess
+Willie didn't hear anything you an' I talked
+about him, or clo'es, or anything.''
+
+She was mistaken in part.  William had caught
+no reference to himself, but he had overheard
+something and he was now alone in his room,
+thinking about it almost feverishly.  ``A secon'-
+han' sto' ovuh on the avynoo, where they got
+swaller-tail suits all way f'um sevum dolluhs to
+nineteem dolluhs an' ninety-eight cents.''
+
+. . . Civilization is responsible for certain
+longings in the breast of man--artificial longings,
+but sometimes as poignant as hunger and thirst. 
+Of these the strongest are those of the maid for
+the bridal veil, of the lad for long trousers, and of
+the youth for a tailed coat of state.  To the
+gratification of this last, only a few of the early joys
+in life are comparable.  Indulged youths, too
+rich, can know, to the unctuous full, neither the
+longing nor the gratification; but one such as
+William, in ``moderate circumstances,'' is privileged
+to pant for his first evening clothes as the
+hart panteth after the water-brook--and sometimes,
+to pant in vain.  Also, this was a crisis in
+William's life: in addition to his yearning for such
+apparel, he was racked by a passionate urgency.
+
+As Jane had so precociously understood, unless
+he should somehow manage to obtain the proper
+draperies he could not go to the farewell dance
+for Miss Pratt.  Other unequipped boys could go
+in their ordinary ``best clothes,'' but William could
+not; for, alack! he had dressed too well too soon!
+
+He was in desperate case.
+
+The sorrow of the approaching great departure
+was but the heavier because it had been so long
+deferred.  To William it had seemed that this
+flower-strewn summer could actually end no more
+than he could actually die, but Time had begun its
+awful lecture, and even Seventeen was listening.
+
+Miss Pratt, that magic girl, was going home.
+
+
+
+XXIII
+
+FATHERS FORGET
+
+To the competent twenties, hundreds of miles
+suggesting no impossibilities, such departures
+may be rending, but not tragic.  Implacable, the
+difference to Seventeen!  Miss Pratt was going
+home, and Seventeen could not follow; it could
+only mourn upon the lonely shore, tracing little
+angelic footprints left in the sand.
+
+To Seventeen such a departure is final; it is a
+vanishing.
+
+And now it seemed possible that William might
+be deprived even of the last romantic consolations:
+of the ``last waltz together,'' of the last,
+last ``listening to music in the moonlight
+together''; of all those sacred lasts of the ``last
+evening together.''
+
+He had pleaded strongly for a ``dress-suit'' as
+a fitting recognition of his seventeenth birthday
+anniversary, but he had been denied by his father
+with a jocularity more crushing than rigor.  Since
+then--in particular since the arrival of Miss
+Pratt--Mr. Baxter's temper had been growing
+steadily more and more even.  That is, as
+affected by William's social activities, it was
+uniformly bad.  Nevertheless, after heavy
+brooding, William decided to make one final appeal
+before he resorted to measures which the
+necessities of despair had caused him to contemplate.
+
+He wished to give himself every chance for a
+good effect; therefore, he did not act hastily,
+but went over what he intended to say, rehearsing
+it with a few appropriate gestures, and even
+taking some pleasure in the pathetic dignity of
+this performance, as revealed by occasional
+glances at the mirror of his dressing-table.  In
+spite of these little alleviations, his trouble was
+great and all too real, for, unhappily, the previous
+rehearsal of an emotional scene does not prove
+the emotion insincere.
+
+Descending, he found his father and mother
+still sitting upon the front porch.  Then, standing
+before them, solemn-eyed, he uttered a preluding
+cough, and began:
+
+``Father,'' he said in a loud voice, ``I have
+come to--''
+
+``Dear me!'' Mrs. Baxter exclaimed, not
+perceiving that she was interrupting an intended
+oration.  ``Willie, you DO look pale!  Sit down,
+poor child; you oughtn't to walk so much in this
+heat.''
+
+``Father,'' William repeated.  ``Fath--''
+
+``I suppose you got her safely home from
+church,'' Mr. Baxter said.  ``She might have
+been carried off by footpads if you three boys
+hadn't been along to take care of her!''
+
+But William persisted heroically.  ``Father--''
+he said.  ``Father, I have come to--''
+
+``What on earth's the matter with you?''
+Mr. Baxter ceased to fan himself; Mrs. Baxter
+stopped rocking, and both stared, for it had
+dawned upon them that something unusual was
+beginning to take place.
+
+William backed to the start and tried it again. 
+``Father, I have come to--''  He paused and
+gulped, evidently expecting to be interrupted,
+but both of his parents remained silent, regarding
+him with puzzled surprise.  ``Father,'' he began
+once more, ``I have come--I have come to--to
+place before you something I think it's your duty
+as my father to undertake, and I have thought
+over this step before laying it before you.''
+
+``My soul!'' said Mr. Baxter, under his breath. 
+``My soul!''
+
+``At my age,'' William continued, swallowing,
+and fixing his earnest eyes upon the roof of the
+porch, to avoid the disconcerting stare of his
+father--``at my age there's some things that ought
+to be done and some things that ought not to be
+done.  If you asked me what I thought OUGHT to
+be done, there is only one answer:  When any-
+body as old as I am has to go out among other
+young men his own age that already got one, like
+anyway half of them HAVE, who I go with, and
+their fathers have already taken such a step,
+because they felt it was the only right thing to do,
+because at my age and the young men I go with's
+age, it IS the only right thing to do, because that
+is something nobody could deny, at my age--'' 
+Here William drew a long breath, and, deciding
+to abandon that sentence as irrevocably tangled,
+began another:  ``I have thought over this step,
+because there comes a time to every young man
+when they must lay a step before their father
+before something happens that they would be
+sorry for.  I have thought this undertaking over,
+and I am certain it would be your honest duty--''
+
+``My soul!'' gasped Mr. Baxter.  ``I thought I
+knew you pretty well, but you talk like a stranger
+to ME!  What is all this?  What you WANT?''
+
+``A dress-suit!'' said William.
+
+He had intended to say a great deal more
+before coming to the point, but, although through
+nervousness he had lost some threads of his
+rehearsed plea, it seemed to him that he was
+getting along well and putting his case with some
+distinction and power.  He was surprised and
+hurt, therefore, to hear his father utter a wordless
+shout in a tone of wondering derision.
+
+`I have more to say--'' William began.
+
+But Mr. Baxter cut him off.  ``A dress-suit!''
+he cried.  ``Well, I'm glad you were talking about
+SOMETHING, because I honestly thought it must be
+too much sun!''
+
+At this, the troubled William brought his eyes
+down from the porch roof and forgot his rehearsal. 
+He lifted his hand appealingly.  ``Father,''
+he said, ``I GOT to have one!''
+
+`` `Got to'!'' Mr. Baxter laughed a laugh that
+chilled the supplicant through and through.  ``At
+your age I thought I was lucky if I had ANY suit
+that was fit to be seen in.  You're too young,
+Willie.  I don't want you to get your mind on
+such stuff, and if I have my way, you won't have
+a dress-suit for four years more, anyhow.''
+
+``Father, I GOT to have one.  I got to have one
+right away!''  The urgency in William's voice
+was almost tearful.  ``I don't ask you to have it
+made, or to go to expensive tailors, but there's
+plenty of good ready-made ones that only cost
+about forty dollars; they're advertised in the
+paper.  Father, wouldn't you spend just forty
+dollars?  I'll pay it back when I'm in business;
+I'll work--''
+
+Mr. Baxter waved all this aside.  ``It's not the
+money.  It's the principle that I'm standing for,
+and I don't intend--''
+
+``Father, WON'T you do it?''
+
+``No, I will not!''
+
+William saw that sentence had been passed and
+all appeals for a new trial denied.  He choked,
+and rushed into the house without more ado.
+
+``Poor boy!'' his mother said.
+
+``Poor boy nothing!'' fumed Mr. Baxter. 
+``He's about lost his mind over that Miss Pratt. 
+Think of his coming out here and starting a regular
+debating society declamation before his
+mother and father!  Why, I never heard anything
+like it in my life!  I don't like to hurt his
+feelings, and I'd give him anything I could
+afford that would do him any good, but all he
+wants it for now is to splurge around in at this
+party before that little yellow-haired girl!  I
+guess he can wear the kind of clothes most of the
+other boys wear--the kind _I_ wore at parties--
+and never thought of wearing anything else. 
+What's the world getting to be like?  Seventeen
+years old and throws a fit because he can't have
+a dress-suit!''
+
+Mrs. Baxter looked thoughtful.  ``But--but
+suppose he felt he couldn't go to the dance unless
+he wore one, poor boy--''
+
+``All the better,'' said Mr. Baxter, firmly.  ``Do
+him good to keep away and get his mind on
+something else.''
+
+``Of course,'' she suggested, with some
+timidity, ``forty dollars isn't a great deal of money,
+and a ready-made suit, just to begin with--''
+
+Naturally, Mr. Baxter perceived whither she
+was drifting.  ``Forty dollars isn't a thousand,''
+he interrupted, ``but what you want to throw it
+away for?  One reason a boy of seventeen
+oughtn't to have evening clothes is the way he
+behaves with ANY clothes.  Forty dollars!  Why,
+only this summer he sat down on Jane's open
+paint-box, twice in one week!''
+
+``Well--Miss Pratt IS going away, and the
+dance will be her last night.  I'm afraid it would
+really hurt him to miss it.  I remember once,
+before we were engaged--that evening before papa
+took me abroad, and you--''
+
+``It's no use, mamma,'' he said.  ``We were
+both in the twenties--why, _I_ was six years older
+than Willie, even then.  There's no comparison
+at all.  I'll let him order a dress-suit on his
+twenty-first birthday and not a minute before. 
+I don't believe in it, and I intend to see that he
+gets all this stuff out of his system.  He's got to
+learn some hard sense!''
+
+Mrs. Baxter shook her head doubtfully, but
+she said no more.  Perhaps she regretted a little
+that she had caused Mr. Baxter's evening clothes
+to be so expansively enlarged--for she looked
+rather regretful.  She also looked rather
+incomprehensible, not to say cryptic, during the long
+silence which followed, and Mr. Baxter resumed
+his rocking, unaware of the fixity of gaze which
+his wife maintained upon him--a thing the most
+loyal will do sometimes.
+
+The incomprehensible look disappeared before
+long; but the regretful one was renewed in the
+mother's eyes whenever she caught glimpses of
+her son, that day, and at the table, where
+William's manner was gentle--even toward his
+heartless father.
+
+Underneath that gentleness, the harried self of
+William was no longer debating a desperate
+resolve, but had fixed upon it, and on the following
+afternoon Jane chanced to be a witness of some
+resultant actions.  She came to her mother with
+an account of them.
+
+``Mamma, what you s'pose Willie wants of
+those two ole market-baskets that were down
+cellar?''
+
+``Why, Jane?''
+
+``Well, he carried 'em in his room, an' then he
+saw me lookin'; an' he said, `G'way from here!'
+an' shut the door.  He looks so funny!  What's
+he want of those ole baskets, mamma?''
+
+``I don't know.  Perhaps he doesn't even know,
+himself, Jane.''
+
+But William did know, definitely.  He had set
+the baskets upon chairs, and now, with pale
+determination, he was proceeding to fill them.  When
+his task was completed the two baskets contained:
+
+One ``heavy-weight winter suit of clothes.''
+
+One ``light-weight summer suit of clothes.''
+
+One cap.
+
+One straw hat.
+
+Two pairs of white flannel trousers.
+
+Two Madras shirts.
+
+Two flannel shirts.
+
+Two silk shirts.
+
+Seven soft collars.
+
+Three silk neckties.
+
+One crocheted tie.
+
+Eight pairs of socks.
+
+One pair of patent-leather shoes.
+
+One pair of tennis-shoes.
+
+One overcoat.
+
+Some underwear.
+
+One two-foot shelf of books, consisting of several
+sterling works upon mathematics, in a damaged
+condition; five of Shakespeare's plays,
+expurgated for schools and colleges, and also
+damaged; a work upon political economy, and
+another upon the science of physics; Webster's
+Collegiate Dictionary; How to Enter a Drawing-
+Room and Five Hundred Other Hints; Witty Sayings
+from Here and There; Lorna Doone; Quentin
+Durward; The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, a
+very old copy of Moths, and a small Bible.
+
+William spread handkerchiefs upon the two
+over-bulging cargoes, that their nature might not
+be disclosed to the curious, and, after listening a
+moment at his door, took the baskets, one upon
+each arm, then went quickly down the stairs and
+out of the house, out of the yard, and into the
+alley--by which route he had modestly chosen
+to travel.
+
+. . . After an absence of about two hours he
+returned empty-handed and anxious.  ``Mother,
+I want to speak to you,'' he said, addressing Mrs
+Baxter in a voice which clearly proved the strain
+of these racking days.  ``I want to speak to you
+about something important.''
+
+``Yes, Willie?''
+
+``Please send Jane away.  I can't talk about
+important things with a child in the room.''
+
+Jane naturally wished to stay, since he was
+going to say something important.  ``Mamma,
+do I HAF to go?''
+
+``Just a few minutes, dear.''
+
+Jane walked submissively out of the door,
+leaving it open behind her.  Then, having gone about
+six feet farther, she halted and, preserving a
+breathless silence, consoled herself for her banishment
+by listening to what was said, hearing it all
+as satisfactorily as if she had remained in the
+room.  Quiet, thoughtful children, like Jane,
+avail themselves of these little pleasures oftener
+than is suspected.
+
+``Mother,'' said William, with great intensity,
+``I want to ask you please to lend me three dollars
+and sixty cents.''
+
+``What for, Willie?''
+
+``Mother, I just ask you to lend me three
+dollars and sixty cents.''
+
+``But what FOR?''
+
+``Mother, I don't feel I can discuss it any; I
+simply ask you:  Will you lend me three dollars
+and sixty cents?''
+
+Mrs. Baxter laughed gently.  ``I don't think
+I could, Willie, but certainly I should want to
+know what for.''
+
+``Mother, I am going on eighteen years of age,
+and when I ask for a small sum of money like
+three dollars and sixty cents I think I might be
+trusted to know how to use it for my own good
+without having to answer questions like a ch--''
+
+``Why, Willie,'' she exclaimed, ``you ought to
+have plenty of money of your own!''
+
+``Of course I ought,'' he agreed, warmly.  ``If
+you'd ask father to give me a regular allow--''
+
+``No, no; I mean you ought to have plenty
+left out of that old junk and furniture I let you
+sell last month.  You had over nine dollars!'
+
+``That was five weeks ago,'' William explained,
+wearily.
+
+``But you certainly must have some of it left. 
+Why, it was MORE than nine dollars, I believe! 
+I think it was nearer ten.  Surely you haven't--''
+
+``Ye gods!'' cried the goaded William.  ``A
+person going on eighteen years old ought to be
+able to spend nine dollars in five weeks without
+everybody's acting like it was a crime!  Mother,
+I ask you the simple question:  Will you PLEASE
+lend me three dollars and sixty cents?''
+
+``I don't think I ought to, dear.  I'm sure
+your father wouldn't wish me to, unless you'll
+tell me what you want it for.  In fact, I won't
+consider it at all unless you do tell me.''
+
+``You won't do it?'' he quavered.
+
+She shook her head gently.  ``You see, dear,
+I'm afraid the reason you don't tell me is because
+you know that I wouldn't give it to you if I
+knew what you wanted it for.''
+
+This perfect diagnosis of the case so
+disheartened him that after a few monosyllabic
+efforts to continue the conversation with dignity
+he gave it up, and left in such a preoccupation
+with despondency that he passed the surprised
+Jane in the hall without suspecting what she
+had been doing.
+
+That evening, after dinner, he addressed to his
+father an impassioned appeal for three dollars
+and sixty cents, laying such stress of pathos on
+his principal argument that if he couldn't have
+a dress-suit, at least he ought to be given three
+dollars and sixty CENTS (the emphasis is William's)
+that Mr. Baxter was moved in the direction 
+of consent--but not far enough.  ``I'd like
+to let you have it, Willie,'' he said, excusing
+himself for refusal, ``but your mother felt SHE
+oughtn't to do it unless you'd say what you
+wanted it for, and I'm sure she wouldn't like me
+to do it.  I can't let you have it unless you get
+her to say she wants me to.''
+
+Thus advised, the unfortunate made another
+appeal to his mother the next day, and, having
+brought about no relaxation of the situation,
+again petitioned his father, on the following
+evening.  So it went; the torn and driven William
+turning from parent to parent; and surely, since
+the world began, the special sum of three dollars
+and sixty cents has never been so often mentioned
+in any one house and in the same space of
+time as it was in the house of the Baxters during
+Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday
+of that oppressive week.
+
+But on Friday William disappeared after
+breakfast and did not return to lunch.
+
+
+
+XXIV
+
+CLOTHES MAKE THE MAN
+
+Mrs. Baxter was troubled.  During the
+afternoon she glanced often from the
+open window of the room where she had gone to
+sew, but the peaceful neighborhood continued
+to be peaceful, and no sound of the harassed
+footsteps of William echoed from the pavement. 
+However, she saw Genesis arrive (in his week-
+day costume) to do some weeding, and Jane
+immediately skip forth for mingled purposes of
+observation and conversation.
+
+``What DO they say?'' thought Mrs. Baxter,
+observing that both Jane and Genesis were unusually
+animated.  But for once that perplexity was
+to be dispersed.  After an exciting half-hour
+Jane came flying to her mother, breathless.
+
+``Mamma,'' she cried, ``I know where Willie is! 
+Genesis told me, 'cause he saw him, an' he
+talked to him while he was doin' it.''
+
+``Doing what?  Where?''
+
+``Mamma, listen!  What you think Willie's
+doin'?  I bet you can't g--''
+
+``Jane!'' Mrs Baxter spoke sharply.  ``Tell
+me what Genesis said, at once.''
+
+``Yes'm.  Willie's sittin' in a lumber-yard that
+Genesis comes by on his way from over on the
+avynoo where all the colored people live--an' he's
+countin' knot-holes in shingles.''
+
+``He is WHAT?''
+
+``Yes'm.  Genesis knows all about it, because
+he was thinkin' of doin' it himself, only he says
+it would be too slow.  This is the way it is,
+mamma.  Listen, mamma, because this is just
+exackly the way it is.  Well, this lumber-yard
+man got into some sort of a fuss because he
+bought millions an' millions of shingles, mamma,
+that had too many knots in, an' the man don't
+want to pay for 'em, or else the store where he
+bought 'em won't take 'em back, an' they got to
+prove how many shingles are bad shingles, or
+somep'm, an' anyway, mamma, that's what
+Willie's doin'.  Every time he comes to a bad
+shingle, mamma, he puts it somewheres else,
+or somep'm like that, mamma, an' every time
+he's put a thousand bad shingles in this other
+place they give him six cents.  He gets the six
+cents to keep, mamma--an' that's what he's been
+doin' all day!''
+
+``Good gracious!''
+
+``Oh, but that's nothing, mamma--just you
+wait till you hear the rest.  THAT part of it isn't
+anything a TALL, mamma!  You wouldn't hardly
+notice that part of it if you knew the other part
+of it, mamma.  Why, that isn't ANYTHING!'' Jane
+made demonstrations of scorn for the insignificant
+information already imparted.
+
+``Jane!''
+
+``Yes'm?''
+
+``I want to know everything Genesis told
+you,'' said her mother, ``and I want you to tell
+it as quickly as you can.''
+
+``Well, I AM tellin' it, mamma!'' Jane
+protested.  ``I'm just BEGINNING to tell it.  I can't
+tell it unless there's a beginning, can I?  How
+could there be ANYTHING unless you had to begin
+it, mamma?''
+
+``Try your best to go on, Jane!''
+
+``Yes'm.  Well, Genesis says--  Mamma!''
+Jane interrupted herself with a little outcry. 
+``Oh!  I bet THAT'S what he had those two market-
+baskets for!  Yes, sir!  That's just what he did! 
+An' then he needed the rest o' the money an'
+you an' papa wouldn't give him any, an' so he
+began countin' shingles to-day 'cause to-night's
+the night of the party an' he just HASS to have it!''
+
+Mrs. Baxter, who had risen to her feet,
+recalled the episode of the baskets and sank into a
+chair.  ``How did Genesis know Willie wanted
+forty dollars, and if Willie's pawned something how
+did Genesis know THAT?  Did Willie tell Gen--''
+
+``Oh no, mamma, Willie didn't want forty
+dollars--only fourteen!''
+
+``But he couldn't get even the cheapest ready-
+made dress-suit for fourteen dollars.''
+
+``Mamma, you're gettin' it all mixed up!''
+Jane cried.  ``Listen, mamma!  Genesis knows
+all about a second-hand store over on the avynoo;
+an' it keeps 'most everything, an' Genesis says
+it's the nicest store!  It keeps waiter suits all
+the way up to nineteen dollars and ninety-nine
+cents.  Well, an' Genesis wants to get one of
+those suits, so he goes in there all the time, an'
+talks to the man an' bargains an' bargains with
+him, 'cause Genesis says this man is the
+bargainest man in the wide worl', mamma!  That's
+what Genesis says.  Well, an' so this man's name
+is One-eye Beljus, mamma.  That's his name,
+an' Genesis says so.  Well, an' so this man that
+Genesis told me about, that keeps the store--I
+mean One-eye Beljus, mamma--well, One-eye
+Beljus had Willie's name written down in a book,
+an' he knew Genesis worked for fam'lies that
+have boys like Willie in 'em, an' this morning
+One-eye Beljus showed Genesis Willie's name
+written down in this book, an' One-eye Beljus
+asked Genesis if he knew anybody by that name
+an' all about him.  Well, an' so at first Genesis
+pretended he was tryin' to remember, because he
+wanted to find out what Willie went there for.
+Genesis didn't tell any stories, mamma; he just
+pretended he couldn't remember, an' so, well,
+One-eye Beljus kept talkin' an' pretty soon
+Genesis found out all about it.  One-eye Beljus
+said Willie came in there an' tried on the coat
+of one of those waiter suits--''
+
+``Oh no!'' gasped Mrs. Baxter.
+
+``Yes'm, an' One-eye Beljus said it was the
+only one that would fit Willie, an' One-eye
+Beljus told Willie that suit was worth fourteen
+dollars, an' Willie said he didn't have any money,
+but he'd like to trade something else for it. 
+Well, an' so One-eye Beljus said this was an
+awful fine suit an' the only one he had that
+had b'longed to a white gentleman.  Well, an'
+so they bargained, an' bargained, an' bargained,
+an' BARGAINED!  An' then, well, an' so at last
+Willie said he'd go an' get everything that
+b'longed to him, an' One-eye Beljus could pick
+out enough to make fourteen dollars' worth,
+an' then Willie could have the suit.  Well, an'
+so Willie came home an' put everything he had
+that b'longed to him into those two baskets,
+mamma--that's just what he did, 'cause Genesis
+says he told One-eye Beljus it was everything
+that b'longed to him, an' that would take two
+baskets, mamma.  Well, then, an' so he told
+One-eye Beljus to pick out fourteen dollars'
+worth, an' One-eye Beljus ast Willie if he didn't
+have a watch.  Well, Willie took out his watch
+an' One-eye Beljus said it was an awful bad
+watch, but he would put it in for a dollar; an'
+he said, `I'll put your necktie pin in for forty
+cents more,' so Willie took it out of his necktie
+an' then One-eye Beljus said it would take all
+the things in the baskets to make I forget how
+much, mamma, an' the watch would be a dollar
+more, an' the pin forty cents, an' that would
+leave just three dollars an' sixty cents more for
+Willie to pay before he could get the suit.''
+
+Mrs. Baxter's face had become suffused with
+high color, but she wished to know all that
+Genesis had said, and, mastering her feelings
+with an effort, she told Jane to proceed--a
+command obeyed after Jane had taken several long
+breaths.
+
+``Well, an' so the worst part of it is, Genesis
+says, it's because that suit is haunted.''
+
+``What!''
+
+``Yes'm,'' said Jane, solemnly; ``Genesis says
+it's haunted.  Genesis says everybody over on
+the avynoo knows all about that suit, an' he says
+that's why One-eye Beljus never could sell it
+before.  Genesis says One-eye Beljus tried to sell
+it to a colored man for three dollars, but the man
+said he wouldn't put in on for three hunderd
+dollars, an' Genesis says HE wouldn't, either,
+because it belonged to a Dago waiter that--that--''
+Jane's voice sank to a whisper of unctuous horror. 
+She was having a wonderful time!  ``Mamma,
+this Dago waiter, he lived over on the avynoo,
+an' he took a case-knife he'd sharpened--
+AN' HE CUT A LADY'S HEAD OFF WITH IT!''
+
+Mrs. Baxter screamed faintly.
+
+``An' he got hung, mamma!  If you don't
+believe it, you can ask One-eye Beljus--I guess HE
+knows!  An' you can ask--''
+
+``Hush!''
+
+``An' he sold this suit to One-eye Beljus when
+he was in jail, mamma.  He sold it to him before
+he got hung, mamma.''
+
+``Hush, Jane!''
+
+But Jane couldn't hush now.  ``An' he had
+that suit on when he cut the lady's head off,
+mamma, an' that's why it's haunted.  They
+cleaned it all up excep' a few little spots of
+bl--''
+
+``JANE!'' shouted her mother.  ``You must not
+talk about such things, and Genesis mustn't tell,
+you stories of that sort!''
+
+``Well, how could he help it, if he told me about
+Willie?'' Jane urged, reasonably.
+
+``Never mind!  Did that crazy ch--  Did
+Willie LEAVE the baskets in that dreadful place?''
+
+``Yes'm--an' his watch an' pin,'' Jane
+informed her, impressively.  ``An' One-eye Beljus
+wanted to know if Genesis knew Willie, because
+One-eye Beljus wanted to know if Genesis
+thought Willie could get the three dollars an;
+sixty cents, an' One-eye Beljus wanted to know
+if Genesis thought he could get anything more
+out of him besides that.  He told Genesis he
+hadn't told Willie he COULD have the suit, after
+all; he just told him he THOUGHT he could, but he
+wouldn't say for certain till he brought him the
+three dollars an' sixty cents.  So Willie left all
+his things there, an' his watch an--''
+
+``That will do!'' Mrs. Baxter's voice was
+sharper than it had ever been in Jane's recollection. 
+``I don't need to hear any more--and I
+don't WANT to hear any more!''
+
+Jane was justly aggrieved.  ``But, mamma,
+it isn't MY fault!''
+
+Mrs. Baxter's lips parted to speak, but she
+checked herself.  ``Fault?'' she said, gravely. 
+``I wonder whose fault it really is!''
+
+And with that she went hurriedly into William's
+room and made a brief inspection of his
+clothes-closet and dressing-table.  Then, as Jane
+watched her in awed silence, she strode to the
+window, and called, loudly:
+
+``Genesis!''
+
+``Yes'm?'' came the voice from below.
+
+``Go to that lumber-yard where Mr. William
+is at work and bring him here to me at once. 
+If he declines to come, tell him--''  Her voice
+broke oddly; she choked, but Jane could not
+decide with what emotion.  ``Tell him--tell him
+I ordered you to use force if necessary!  Hurry!''
+
+``YES'M!''
+
+Jane ran to the window in time to see Genesis
+departing seriously through the back gate.
+
+``Mamma--''
+
+``Don't talk to me now, Jane,'' Mrs. Baxter
+said, crisply.  ``I want you to go down in the
+yard, and when Willie comes tell him I'm waiting
+for him here in his own room.  And don't come
+with him, Jane.  Run!''
+
+``Yes, mamma.''  Jane was pleased with this
+appointment; she anxiously desired to be the
+first to see how Willie ``looked.''
+
+. . . He looked flurried and flustered and
+breathless, and there were blisters upon the reddened
+palms of his hands.  ``What on earth's the
+matter, mother?'' he asked, as he stood panting
+before her.  ``Genesis said something was wrong,
+and he said you told him to hit me if I wouldn't
+come.''
+
+``Oh NO!'' she cried.  ``I only meant I thought
+perhaps you wouldn't obey any ordinary message--''
+
+``Well, well, it doesn't matter, but please hurry
+and say what you want to, because I got to get
+back and--''
+
+``No,'' Mrs. Baxter said, quietly, ``you're not
+going back to count any more shingles, Willie. 
+How much have you earned?''
+
+He swallowed, but spoke bravely.  ``Thirty-
+six cents.  But I've been getting lots faster the
+last two hours and there's a good deal of time
+before six o'clock.  Mother--''
+
+``No,'' she said.  ``You're going over to that
+horrible place where you've left your clothes and
+your watch and all those other things in the two
+baskets, and you're going to bring them home
+at once.''
+
+``Mother!'' he cried, aghast.  ``Who told you?''
+
+``It doesn't matter.  You don't want your
+father to find out, do you?  Then get those
+things back here as quickly as you can.  They'll
+have to be fumigated after being in that den.''
+
+``They've never been out of the baskets,'; he
+protested, hotly, ``except just to be looked at. 
+They're MY things, mother, and I had a right to
+do what I needed to with 'em, didn't I?''  His
+utterance became difficult.  ``You and father
+just CAN'T understand--and you won't do anything
+to help me--''
+
+``Willie, you can go to the party,'' she said,
+gently.  ``You didn't need those frightful clothes
+at all.''
+
+``I do!'' he cried.  ``I GOT to have 'em! I CAN'T
+go in my day clo'es!  There's a reason you
+wouldn't understand why I can't.  I just CAN'T!''
+
+``Yes,'' she said, ``you can go to the party.'' 
+
+``I can't, either!  Not unless you give me three
+dollars and twenty-four cents, or unless I can
+get back to the lumber-yard and earn the rest
+before--''
+
+``No!''  And the warm color that had rushed
+over Mrs. Baxter during Jane's sensational
+recital returned with a vengeance.  Her eyes
+flashed.  ``If you'd rather I sent a policeman for
+those baskets, I'll send one.  I should prefer to
+do it--much!  And to have that rascal arrested. 
+If you don't want me to send a policeman you
+can go for them yourself, but you must start
+within ten minutes, because if you don't I'll
+telephone headquarters.  Ten minutes, Willie,
+and I mean it!''
+
+He cried out, protesting.  She would make him
+a thing of scorn forever and soil his honor, if she
+sent a policeman.  Mr. Beljus was a fair and
+honest tradesman, he explained, passionately,
+and had not made the approaches in this matter. 
+Also, the garments in question, though not
+entirely new, nor of the highest mode, were of good
+material and in splendid condition.  Unmistakably
+they were evening clothes, and such a
+bargain at fourteen dollars that William would
+guarantee to sell them for twenty after he had
+worn them this one evening.  Mr. Beljus himself
+had said that he would not even think of
+letting them go at fourteen to anybody else, and
+as for the two poor baskets of worn and useless
+articles offered in exchange, and a bent scarf-
+pin and a worn-out old silver watch that had
+belonged to great-uncle Ben--why, the ten dollars
+and forty cents allowed upon them was
+beyond all ordinary liberality; it was almost
+charity.  There was only one place in town where
+evening clothes were rented, and the suspicious
+persons in charge had insisted that William obtain
+from his father a guarantee to insure the return
+of the garments in perfect condition.  So that
+was hopeless.  And wasn't it better, also, to
+wear clothes which had known only one previous
+occupant (as was the case with Mr. Beljus's
+offering) than to hire what chance hundreds had
+hired?  Finally, there was only one thing to be
+considered and this was the fact that William
+HAD to have those clothes!
+
+``Six minutes,'' said Mrs. Baxter, glancing
+implacably at her watch.  ``When it's ten I'll
+telephone.''
+
+And the end of it was, of course, victory for
+the woman--victory both moral and physical. 
+Three-quarters of an hour later she was
+unburdening the contents of the two baskets and
+putting the things back in place, illuminating
+these actions with an expression of strong
+distaste--in spite of broken assurances that Mr.
+Beljus had not more than touched any of the
+articles offered to him for valuation.
+
+. . . At dinner, which was unusually early that
+evening, Mrs. Baxter did not often glance toward
+her son; she kept her eyes from that white face
+and spent most of her time in urging upon Mr.
+Baxter that he should be prompt in dressing for a
+card-club meeting which he and she were to attend
+that evening.  These admonitions of hers
+were continued so pressingly that Mr. Baxter,
+after protesting that there was no use in being a
+whole hour too early, groaningly went to dress
+without even reading his paper.  
+
+William had retired to his own room, where he
+lay upon his bed in the darkness.  He heard the
+evening noises of the house faintly through the
+closed door: voices and the clatter of metal and
+china from the far-away kitchen, Jane's laugh in
+the hall, the opening and closing of the doors. 
+Then his father seemed to be in distress about
+something.  William heard him complaining to
+Mrs. Baxter, and though the words were indistinct,
+the tone was vigorously plaintive.  Mrs.
+Baxter laughed and appeared to make light of
+his troubles, whatever they were--and presently
+their footsteps were audible from the stairway;
+the front door closed emphatically, and they were
+gone.
+
+Everything was quiet now.  The open window
+showed as a greenish oblong set in black, and
+William knew that in a little while there would
+come through the stillness of that window the
+distant sound of violins.  That was a moment he
+dreaded with a dread that ached.  And as he lay
+on his dreary bed he thought of brightly lighted
+rooms where other boys were dressing eagerly
+faces and hair shining, hearts beating high--boys
+who would possess this last evening and the ``last
+waltz together,'' the last smile and the last sigh.
+
+It did not once enter his mind that he could
+go to the dance in his ``best suit,'' or that
+possibly the other young people at the party would
+be too busy with their own affairs to notice
+particularly what he wore.  It was the unquestionable
+and granite fact, to his mind, that the whole
+derisive World would know the truth about his
+earlier appearances in his father's clothes.  And
+that was a form of ruin not to be faced.  In the
+protective darkness and seclusion of William's
+bedroom, it is possible that smarting eyes relieved
+themselves by blinking rather energetically; it is
+even possible that there was a minute damp spot
+upon the pillow.  Seventeen cannot always manage
+the little boy yet alive under all the coverings.
+
+Now arrived that moment he had most painfully
+anticipated, and dance-music drifted on the
+night;--but there came a tapping upon his door
+and a soft voice spoke.
+
+``Will-ee?''
+
+With a sharp exclamation William swung his
+legs over the edge of the bed and sat up.  Of all
+things he desired not, he desired no conversation
+with, or on the part of, Jane.  But he had
+forgotten to lock his door--the handle turned, and a
+dim little figure marched in.
+
+``Willie, Adelia's goin' to put me to bed.''
+
+``You g'way from here,'' he said, huskily.  ``I
+haven't got time to talk to you.  I'm busy.''
+
+``Well, you can wait a minute, can't you?'' she
+asked, reasonably.  ``I haf to tell you a joke on
+mamma.''
+
+``I don't want to hear any jokes!''
+
+``Well, I HAF to tell you this one 'cause she told
+me to!  Oh!'' Jane clapped her hand over her
+mouth and jumped up and down, offering a
+fantastic silhouette against the light of the Open
+door.  ``Oh, oh, OH!''
+
+``What's matter?''
+
+``She said I mustn't, MUSTN'T tell that she told
+me to tell!  My goodness!  I forgot that! 
+Mamma took me off alone right after dinner, an'
+she told me to tell you this joke on her a little
+after she an' papa had left the house, but she said,
+`Above all THINGS,' she said, `DON'T let Willie know
+_I_ said to tell him.'  That's just what she said,
+an' here that's the very first thing I had to go an'
+do!''
+
+``Well, what of it?''
+
+Jane quieted down.  The pangs of her remorse
+were lost in her love of sensationalism, and her
+voice sank to the thrilling whisper which it was
+one of her greatest pleasures to use.  ``Did you
+hear what a fuss papa was makin' when he was
+dressin' for the card-party?''
+
+``_I_ don't care if--''
+
+``He had to go in his reg'lar clo'es!'' whispered
+Jane, triumphantly.  ``An' this is the joke on
+mamma: you know that tailor that let papa's
+dress-suit 'way, 'way out; well, Mamma thinks
+that tailor must think she's crazy, or somep'm
+'cause she took papa's dress-suit to him last
+Monday to get it pressed for this card-party,
+an she guesses he must of understood her to
+tell him to do lots besides just pressin' it. 
+Anyway, he went an' altered it, an' he took it 'way,
+'way IN again; an' this afternoon when it came
+back it was even tighter 'n what it was in the first
+place, an' papa couldn't BEGIN to get into it! 
+Well, an' so it's all pressed an' ev'ything, an' she
+stopped on the way out, an' whispered to me
+that she'd got so upset over the joke on her that
+she couldn't remember where she put it when
+she took it out o' papa's room after he gave up
+tryin' to get inside of it.  An' that,'' cried Jane--
+``that's the funniest thing of all!  Why, it's
+layin' right on her bed this very minute!''
+
+In one bound William leaped through the open
+door.  Two seconds sufficed for his passage
+through the hall to his mother's bedroom--and
+there, neatly spread upon the lace coverlet and
+brighter than coronation robes, fairer than
+Joseph's holy coat, It lay!
+
+
+
+XXV
+
+YOUTH AND MR. PARCHER
+
+As a hurried worldling, in almost perfectly
+fitting evening clothes, passed out of his
+father's gateway and hurried toward the place
+whence faintly came the sound of dance-music, a
+child's voice called sweetly from an unidentified
+window of the darkened house behind him:
+
+``Well, ANYWAY, you try and have a good time,
+Willie!''
+
+William made no reply; he paused not in his
+stride.  Jane's farewell injunction, though
+obviously not ill-intended, seemed in poor taste,
+and a reply might have encouraged her to
+believe that, in some measure at least, he
+condescended to discuss his inner life with her.  He
+departed rapidly, but with hauteur.  The moon
+was up, but shade-trees were thick along the
+sidewalk, and the hauteur was invisible to any
+human eye; nevertheless, William considered it
+necessary.
+
+Jane's friendly but ill-chosen ``ANYWAY'' had
+touched doubts already annoying him.  He was
+certain to be late to the party--so late, indeed,
+that it might prove difficult to obtain a proper
+number of dances with the sacred girl in whose
+honor the celebration was being held.  Too many
+were steeped in a sense of her sacredness, well
+he wot! and he was unable to find room in his
+apprehensive mind for any doubt that these
+others would be accursedly diligent.
+
+But as he hastened onward his spirits rose,
+and he did reply to Jane, after all, though he
+had placed a hundred yards between them.
+
+``Yes, and you can bet your bottom dollar I
+will, too!'' he muttered, between his determined
+teeth.
+
+The very utterance of the words increased the
+firmness of his decision, and at the same time
+cheered him.  His apprehensions fell away, and
+a glamorous excitement took their place, as he
+turned a corner and the music burst more loudly
+upon his tingling ear.  For there, not half-way
+to the next street, the fairy scene lay spread
+before him.
+
+Spellbound groups of uninvited persons, most
+of them colored, rested their forearms upon the
+upper rail of the Parchers' picket fence, offering
+to William's view a silhouette like that of a
+crowd at a fire.  Beyond the fence, bright forms
+went skimming, shimmering, wavering over a
+white platform, while high overhead the young
+moon sprayed a thinner light down through the
+maple leaves, to where processions of rosy globes
+hung floating in the blue night.  The mild breeze
+trembled to the silver patterings of a harp, to the
+sweet, barbaric chirping of plucked strings of
+violin and 'cello--and swooned among the maple
+leaves to the rhythmic crooning of a flute.  And,
+all the while, from the platform came the sounds
+of little cries in girlish voices, and the cadenced
+shuffling of young feet, where the witching dance-
+music had its way, as ever and forever, with big
+and little slippers.
+
+The heart of William had behaved tumultuously
+the summer long, whenever his eyes beheld
+those pickets of the Parchers' fence, but now it
+outdid all its previous riotings.  He was forced
+to open his mouth and gasp for breath, so deep
+was his draught of that young wine, romance. 
+Yonder--somewhere in the breath-taking radiance--
+danced his Queen with all her Court about
+her.  Queen and Court, thought William, and
+nothing less exorbitant could have expressed his
+feeling.  For seventeen needs only some paper
+lanterns, a fiddle, and a pretty girl--and
+Versailles is all there!
+
+The moment was so rich that William crossed
+the street with a slower step.  His mood changed:
+an exaltation had come upon him, though he was
+never for an instant unaware of the tragedy 
+beneath all this worldly show and glamor.  It was
+the last night of the divine visit; to-morrow the
+town would lie desolate, a hollow shell in the
+dust, without her.  Miss Pratt would be gone--
+gone utterly--gone away on the TRAIN!  But to-
+night was just beginning, and to-night he would
+dance with her; he would dance and dance with
+her--he would dance and dance like mad!  He
+and she, poetic and fated pair, would dance on
+and on!  They would be intoxicated by the lights
+--the lights, the flowers, and the music.  Nay,
+the flowers might droop, the lights might go out,
+the music cease and dawn come--she and he
+would dance recklessly on--on--on!
+
+A sense of picturesqueness--his own 
+picturesqueness--made him walk rather theatrically
+as he passed through the groups of humble
+onlookers outside the picket fence.  Many of these
+turned to stare at the belated guest, and William
+was unconscious of neither their low estate nor
+his own quality as a patrician man-about-town in
+almost perfectly fitting evening dress.  A faint,
+cold smile was allowed to appear upon his lips,
+and a fragment from a story he had read came
+momentarily to his mind. . . .  ``Through the
+gaping crowds the young Augustan noble was
+borne down from the Palatine, scornful in his
+jeweled litter. . . .''
+
+An admiring murmur reached William's ear.
+
+``OH, oh, honey!  Look attem long-tail suit!  'At's
+a rich boy, honey!''
+
+``Yessum, SO!  Bet he got his pockets pack'
+full o' twenty-dolluh gol' pieces right iss minute!''
+
+``You right, honey!''
+
+William allowed the coldness of his faint smile
+to increase to become scornful.  These poor
+sidewalk creatures little knew what seethed
+inside the alabaster of the young Augustan noble! 
+What was it to THEM that this was Miss Pratt's
+last night and that he intended to dance and
+dance with her, on and on?
+
+Almost sternly he left these squalid lives
+behind him and passed to the festal gateway.
+
+Upon one of the posts of that gateway there
+rested the elbow of a contemplative man, middle-
+aged or a little worse.  Of all persons having
+pleasure or business within the bright inclosure,
+he was, that evening, the least important; being
+merely the background parent who paid the bills. 
+However, even this unconsidered elder shared a
+thought in common with the Augustan now
+approaching:  Mr. Parcher had just been thinking
+that there was true romance in the scene before
+him.
+
+But what Mr. Parcher contemplated as
+romance arose from the fact that these young
+people were dancing on a spot where their great-
+grandfathers had scalped Indians.  Music was
+made for them by descendants, it might well be,
+of Romulus, of Messalina, of Benvenuto Cellini,
+and, around behind the house, waiting to serve
+the dancers with light food and drink, lounged
+and gossiped grandchildren of the Congo, only a
+generation or so removed from dances for which
+a chance stranger furnished both the occasion
+and the refreshments.  Such, in brief, was Mr.
+Parcher's peculiar view of what constituted the
+romantic element.
+
+And upon another subject preoccupying both
+Mr. Parcher and William, their two views,
+though again founded upon one thought, had no
+real congeniality.  The preoccupying subject was
+the imminence of Miss Pratt's departure;--
+neither Mr. Parcher nor William forgot it for an
+instant.  No matter what else played upon the
+surface of their attention, each kept saying to
+himself, underneath:  ``This is the last night--the
+last night!  Miss Pratt is going away--going
+away to-morrow!''
+
+Mr. Parcher's expression was peaceful.  It was
+more peaceful than it had been for a long time. 
+In fact, he wore the look of a man who had been
+through the mill but now contemplated a restful
+and health-restoring vacation.  For there are
+people in this world who have no respect for the
+memory of Ponce de Leon, and Mr. Parcher had
+come to be of their number.  The elimination
+of William from his evenings had lightened the
+burden; nevertheless, Mr. Parcher would have
+stated freely and openly to any responsible party
+that a yearning for the renewal of his youth had
+not been intensified by his daughter's having as
+a visitor, all summer long, a howling belle of
+eighteen who talked baby-talk even at breakfast
+and spread her suitors all over the small house--
+and its one veranda--from eight in the morning
+until hours of the night long after their mothers
+(in Mr. Parcher's opinion) should have sent their
+fathers to march them home.  Upon Mr. Parcher's
+optimism the effect of so much unavoidable
+observation of young love had been fatal; he
+declared repeatedly that his faith in the human
+race was about gone.  Furthermore, his physical
+constitution had proved pathetically vulnerable
+to nightly quartets, quintets, and even octets, on
+the porch below his bedchamber window, so that
+he was wont to tell his wife that never, never
+could he expect to be again the man he had been
+in the spring before Miss Pratt came to visit
+May.  And, referring to conversations which he
+almost continuously overheard, perforce, Mr.
+Parcher said that if this was the way HE talked at
+that age, he would far prefer to drown in an
+ordinary fountain, and be dead and done with it,
+than to bathe in Ponce de Leon's.
+
+Altogether, the summer had been a severe one;
+he doubted that he could have survived much
+more of it.  And now that it was virtually over,
+at last, he was so resigned to the departure of his
+daughter's lovely little friend that he felt no
+regret for the splurge with which her visit was
+closing.  Nay, to speed the parting guest--such
+was his lavish mood--twice and thrice over would
+he have paid for the lights, the flowers, the music,
+the sandwiches, the coffee, the chicken salad, the
+cake, the lemonade-punch, and the ice-cream.
+
+Thus did the one thought divide itself
+between William and Mr. Parcher, keeping itself
+deep and pure under all their other thoughts.
+``Miss Pratt is going away!'' thought William
+and Mr. Parcher.  ``Miss PRATT is going away--
+to-morrow!''
+
+The unuttered words advanced tragically
+toward the gate in the head of William at the same
+time that they moved contentedly away in the
+head of Mr. Parcher; for Mr. Parcher caught
+sight of his wife just then, and went to join her
+as she sank wearily upon the front steps.
+
+``Taking a rest for a minute?'' he inquired. 
+``By George! we're both entitled to a good LONG
+rest, after to-night!  If we could afford it, we'd
+go away to a quiet little sanitarium in the hills,
+somewhere, and--''  He ceased to speak and
+there was the renewal of an old bitterness in his
+expression as his staring eyes followed the 
+movements of a stately young form entering the
+gateway.  ``Look at it!'' said Mr. Parcher in a
+whisper.  ``Just look at it!''
+
+``Look at what?'' asked his wife.
+
+``That Baxter boy!'' said Mr. Parcher, as
+William passed on toward the dancers.  ``What's he
+think he's imitating--Henry Irving?  Look at his
+walk!''
+
+``He walks that way a good deal, lately, I've
+noticed,'' said Mrs. Parcher in a tired voice. 
+``So do Joe Bullitt and--''
+
+``He didn't even come to say good evening to
+you,'' Mr. Parcher interrupted.  ``Talk about
+MANNERS, nowadays!  These young--''
+
+``He didn't see us.''
+
+``Well, we're used to that,'' said Mr. Parcher. 
+``None of 'em see us.  They've worn holes in all
+the cane-seated chairs, they've scuffed up the
+whole house, and I haven't been able to sit down
+anywhere down-stairs for three months without
+sitting on some dam boy; but they don't even
+know we're alive!  Well, thank the Lord, it's
+over--after to-night!'' His voice became
+reflective.  ``That Baxter boy was the worst, until
+he took to coming in the daytime when I was
+down-town.  I COULDN'T have stood it if he'd
+kept on coming in the evening.  If I'd had to
+listen to any more of his talking or singing,
+either the embalmer or the lunatic-asylum would
+have had me, sure!  I see he's got hold of his
+daddy's dress-suit again for to-night.''
+
+``Is it Mr. Baxter's dress-suit?'' Mrs. Parcher
+inquired.  ``How do you know?''
+
+Mr. Parcher smiled.  ``How I happen to know
+is a secret,'' he said.  ``I forgot about that.  His
+little sister, Jane, told me that Mrs. Baxter had
+hidden it, or something, so that Willie couldn't
+wear it, but I guess Jane wouldn't mind my telling
+YOU that she told me especially as they're
+letting him use it again to-night.  I suppose he
+feels grander 'n the King o' Siam!''
+
+``No,'' Mrs. Parcher returned, thoughtfully. 
+``I don't think he does, just now.''  Her gaze
+was fixed upon the dancing-platform, which most
+of the dancers were abandoning as the music fell
+away to an interval of silence.  In the center of
+the platform there remained one group, consisting
+of Miss Pratt and five orators, and of the
+orators the most impassioned and gesticulative
+was William.
+
+``They all seem to want to dance with her all
+the time,'' said Mrs. Parcher.  ``I heard her
+telling one of the boys, half an hour ago, that all she
+could give him was either the twenty-eighth regular
+dance or the sixteenth `extra.' ''
+
+``The what?'' Mr. Parcher demanded, whirling
+to face her.  ``Do they think this party's going to
+keep running till day after to-morrow?''  And
+then, as his eyes returned to the group on the
+platform, ``That boy seems to have quite a touch
+of emotional insanity,'' he remarked, referring to
+William.  ``What IS the matter with him?''
+
+``Oh, nothing,'' his wife returned.  ``Only
+trying to arrange a dance with her.  He seems to be
+in difficulties.''
+
+
+
+XXVI
+
+MISS BOKE
+
+Nothing could have been more evident
+than William's difficulties.  They continued
+to exist, with equal obviousness, when the
+group broke up in some confusion, after a few
+minutes of animated discussion; Mr. Wallace
+Banks, that busy and executive youth, bearing
+Miss Pratt triumphantly off to the lemonade-
+punch-bowl, while William pursued Johnnie Watson
+and Joe Bullitt.  He sought to detain them
+near the edge of the platform, though they
+appeared far from anxious to linger in his
+company; and he was able to arrest their attention
+only by clutching an arm of each.  In fact, the
+good feeling which had latterly prevailed among
+these three appeared to be in danger of
+disintegrating.  The occasion was too vital; and the
+watchword for ``Miss Pratt's last night'' was
+Devil-Take-the-Hindmost!
+
+``Now you look here, Johnnie,'' William said,
+vehemently, ``and you listen, too, Joe!  You both
+got seven dances apiece with her, anyway, all on
+account of my not getting here early enough, and
+you got to--''
+
+``It wasn't because of any such reason,'' young
+Mr. Watson protested.  ``I asked her for mine
+two days ago.''
+
+``Well, THAT wasn't fair, was it?'' William cried. 
+``Just because I never thought of sneaking in
+ahead like that, you go and--''
+
+``Well, you ought to thought of it,'' Johnnie
+retorted, jerking his arm free of William's grasp. 
+``I can't stand here GABBIN' all night!''  And he
+hurried away.
+
+``Joe,'' William began, fastening more securely
+upon Mr. Bullitt--``Joe, I've done a good many
+favors for you, and--''
+
+``I've got to see a man,'' Mr. Bullitt
+interrupted.  ``Lemme go, Silly Bill.  There's some
+body I got to see right away before the next
+dance begins.  I GOT to!  Honest I have!''
+
+William seized him passionately by the lapels
+of his coat.  ``Listen, Joe.  For goodness' sake
+can't you listen a MINUTE?  You GOT to give me--''
+
+``Honest, Bill,'' his friend expostulated,
+backing away as forcefully as possible, ``I got to find
+a fellow that's here to-night and ask him about
+something important before--''
+
+``Ye gods!  Can't you wait a MINUTE?'' William
+cried, keeping his grip upon Joe's lapels. 
+``You GOT to give me anyway TWO out of all your
+dances with her!  You heard her tell me, yourself,
+that she'd be willing if you or Johnnie
+or--''
+
+``Well, I only got five or six with her, and a
+couple extras.  Johnnie's got seven.  Whyn't
+you go after Johnnie?  I bet he'd help you out,
+all right, if you kept after him.  What you want
+to pester ME for, Bill?''
+
+The brutal selfishness of this speech, as well as
+its cold-blooded insincerity, produced in William
+the impulse to smite.  Fortunately, his only hope
+lay in persuasion, and after a momentary struggle
+with his own features he was able to conceal
+what he desired to do to Joe's.
+
+He swallowed, and, increasing the affectionate
+desperation of his clutch upon Mr. Bullitt's
+lapels, ``Joe,'' he began, huskily--``Joe, if _I_'d got
+six reg'lar and two extras with Miss Pratt her last
+night here, and you got here late, and it wasn't
+your fault--I couldn't help being late, could I? 
+It wasn't my fault I was late, I guess, was it? 
+Well, if I was in YOUR place I wouldn't act the way
+you and Johnnie do--not in a thousand years I
+wouldn't!  I'd say, `You want a couple o' my
+dances with Miss Pratt, ole man?  Why, CERTAINLY--' ''
+
+``Yes, you would!'' was the cynical comment of
+Mr. Bullitt, whose averted face and reluctant
+shoulders indicated a strong desire to conclude
+the interview.  ``To-night, especially!'' he
+added.
+
+``Look here, Joe,'' said William, desperately,
+``don't you realize that this is the very last night
+Miss Pratt's going to be in this town?''
+
+``You bet I do!''  These words, though vehement,
+were inaudible; being formed in the mind
+of Mr. Bullitt, but, for diplomatic reasons, not
+projected upon the air by his vocal organs.
+
+William continued:  ``Joe, you and I have been
+friends ever since you and I were boys.''  He
+spoke with emotion, but Joe had no appearance
+of being favorably impressed.  ``And when I look
+back,'' said William, ``I expect I've done more
+favors for you than I ever have for any oth--''
+
+But Mr. Bullitt briskly interrupted this
+appealing reminiscence.  ``Listen here, Silly Bill,''
+he said, becoming all at once friendly and
+encouraging--''  Bill, there's other girls here you
+can get dances with.  There's one or two of 'em
+sittin' around in the yard.  You can have a bully
+time, even if you did come late.''  And, with the
+air of discharging happily all the obligations of
+which William had reminded him, he added,
+``I'll tell you THAT much, Bill!''
+
+``Joe, you got to give me anyway ONE da--''
+
+``Look!'' said Mr. Bullitt, eagerly.  ``Look
+sittin' yonder, over under that tree all by herself! 
+That's a visiting girl named Miss Boke; she's
+visiting some old uncle or something she's got
+livin' here, and I bet you could--''
+
+``Joe, you GOT to--''
+
+``I bet that Miss Boke's a good dancer, Bill,''
+Joe continued, warmly.  ``May Parcher says
+so.  She was tryin' to get me to dance with
+her myself, but I couldn't, or I would of. 
+Honest, Bill, I would of!  Bill, if I was you
+I'd sail right in there before anybody else got
+a start, and I'd--''
+
+``Ole man,'' said William, gently, ``you
+remember the time Miss Pratt and I had an
+engagement to go walkin', and you wouldn't of
+seen her for a week on account of your aunt
+dyin' in Kansas City, if I hadn't let you go along
+with us?  Ole man, if you--''
+
+But the music sounded for the next dance, and
+Joe felt that it was indeed time to end this
+uncomfortable conversation.  ``I got to go, Bill,''
+he said.  ``I GOT to!''
+
+``Wait just one minute,'' William implored.
+``I want to say just this: if--''
+
+``Here!'' exclaimed Mr. Bullitt.  ``I got to GO!''
+
+``I know it.  That's why--''
+
+Heedless of remonstrance, Joe wrenched himself
+free, for it would have taken a powerful
+and ruthless man to detain him longer.  ``What
+you take me for?'' he demanded, indignantly. 
+``I got this with Miss PRATT!''
+
+And evading a hand which still sought to
+clutch him, he departed hotly.
+
+. . . Mr. Parcher's voice expressed wonder, a
+little later, as he recommended his wife to turn
+her gaze in the direction of ``that Baxter boy''
+again.  ``Just look at him!'' said Mr. Parcher. 
+``His face has got more genuine idiocy in it than
+I've seen around here yet, and God knows I've
+been seeing some miracles in that line this
+summer!''
+
+``He's looking at Lola Pratt,'' said Mrs.
+Parcher.
+
+``Don't you suppose I can see that?'' Mr.
+Parcher returned, with some irritation.  ``That's
+what's the trouble with him.  Why don't he QUIT
+looking at her?''
+
+``I think probably he feels badly because she's
+dancing with one of the other boys,'' said his
+wife, mildly.
+
+``Then why can't he dance with somebody else
+himself?'' Mr. Parcher inquired, testily.  ``Instead
+of standing around like a calf looking out
+of the butcher's wagon!  By George! he looks
+as if he was just going to MOO!''
+
+``Of course he ought to be dancing with
+somebody,'' Mrs. Parcher remarked, thoughtfully. 
+``There are one or two more girls than boys here,
+and he's the only boy not dancing.  I believe
+I'll--''  And, not stopping to complete the sentence, 
+she rose and walked across the interval of
+grass to William.  ``Good evening, William,'' she
+said, pleasantly.  ``Don't you want to dance?''
+
+``Ma'am?'' said William, blankly, and the eyes
+he turned upon here were glassy with anxiety. 
+He was still determined to dance on and on and
+on with Miss Pratt, but he realized that there
+were great obstacles to be overcome before he
+could begin the process.  He was feverishly
+awaiting the next interregnum between dances--
+then he would show Joe Bullitt and Johnnie
+Watson and Wallace Banks, and some others who
+had set themselves in his way, that he was
+``abs'lutely not goin' to stand it!''
+
+He couldn't stand it, he told himself, even if he
+wanted to--not to-night!  He had ``been through
+enough'' in order to get to the party, he thought,
+thus defining sufferings connected with his costume,
+and now that he was here he WOULD dance
+and dance, on and on, with Miss Pratt. 
+Anything else was unthinkable.
+
+He HAD to!
+
+``Don't you want to dance?'' Mrs. Parcher
+repeated.  ``Have you looked around for a girl
+without a partner?''
+
+He continued to stare at her, plainly having
+no comprehension of her meaning.
+
+``Girl?'' he echoed, in a tone of feeble inquiry.
+
+She smiled and nodded, taking his arm.  ``You
+come with me,'' she said.  ``I'LL fix you up!''
+
+William suffered her to conduct him across
+the yard.  Intensely preoccupied with what he
+meant to do as soon as the music paused, he was
+somewhat hazy, but when he perceived that he
+was being led in the direction of a girl, sitting
+solitary under one of the maple-trees, the sudden
+shock of fear aroused his faculties.
+
+``What--where--'' he stammered, halting and
+seeking to detach himself from his hostess.
+
+``What is it?'' she asked.
+
+``I got--I got to--'' William began, uneasily. 
+``I got to--''
+
+His purpose was to excuse himself on the
+ground that he had to find a man and tell him
+something important before the next dance, for in
+the confusion of the moment his powers refused
+him greater originality.  But the vital part of
+his intended excuse remained unspoken, being
+disregarded and cut short, as millions of other
+masculine diplomacies have been, throughout the
+centuries, by the decisive action of ladies.
+
+Miss Boke had been sitting under the maple-
+tree for a long time--so long, indeed, that she
+was acquiring a profound distaste for forestry
+and even for maple syrup.  In fact, her state of
+mind was as desperate, in its way, as William's;
+and when a hostess leads a youth (in almost 
+perfectly fitting conventional black) toward a girl
+who has been sitting alone through dance after
+dance, that girl knows what that youth is going
+to have to do.
+
+It must be confessed for Miss Boke that her
+eyes had been upon William from the moment
+Mrs. Parcher addressed him.  Nevertheless, as
+the pair came toward her she looked casually
+away in an indifferent manner.  And yet this
+may have been but a seeming unconsciousness,
+for upon the very instant of William's halting,
+and before he had managed to stammer ``I got
+to--'' for the fourth time, Miss Boke sprang to
+her feet and met Mrs. Parcher more than halfway.
+
+``Oh, Mrs. Parcher!'' she called, coming forward.
+
+``I got--'' the panic-stricken William again
+hastily began.  ``I got to--''
+
+``Oh, Mrs. Parcher,'' cried Miss Boke, ``I've
+been SO worried!  There's a candle in that
+Japanese lantern just over your head, and I
+think it's going out.''
+
+``I'll run and get a fresh one in a minute,'' said
+Mrs. Parcher, smiling benevolently and retaining
+William's arm with a little difficulty.  ``We were
+just coming to find you.  I've brought--''
+
+``I got to--I got to find a m--'' William made
+a last, stricken effort.
+
+``Miss Boke, this is Mr. Baxter,'' said Mrs.
+Parcher, and she added, with what seemed to
+William hideous garrulity, ``He and you both
+came late, dear, and he hasn't any dances
+engaged, either.  So run and dance, and have a
+nice time together.''
+
+Thereupon this disastrous woman returned to
+her husband.  Her look was conscientious; she
+thought she had done something pleasant!
+
+The full horror of his position was revealed to
+William in the relieved, confident, proprietor's
+smile of Miss Boke.  For William lived by a code
+from which no previous experience had taught
+him any means of escape.  Mrs. Parcher had
+made the statement--so needless and so ruinous--
+that he had no engagements; and in his dismay
+he had been unable to deny this fatal truth; he
+had been obliged to let it stand.  Henceforth, he
+was committed absolutely to Miss Boke until
+either some one else asked her to dance, or
+(while yet in her close company) William could
+obtain an engagement with another girl.  The
+latter alternative presented certain grave
+difficulties, also contracting William to dance with
+the other girl before once more obtaining his
+freedom, but undeniably he regarded it from the
+first as the more hopeful.
+
+He had to give form to the fatal invitation. 
+``M'av this dance 'thyou?'' he muttered, doggedly.
+
+``Vurry pleased to!'' Miss Boke responded,
+whereupon they walked in silence to the platform,
+stepped upon its surface, and embraced.
+
+They made a false start.
+
+They made another.
+
+They stood swaying to catch the time; then
+made another.  After that they tried again, and
+were saved from a fall only by spasmodic and
+noticeable contortions.
+
+Miss Boke laughed tolerantly, as if forgiving
+William for his awkwardness, and his hot heart
+grew hotter with that injustice.  She was a large,
+ample girl, weighing more than William (this
+must be definitely claimed in his behalf), and she
+had been spending the summer at a lakeside
+hotel where she had constantly danced ``man's
+part.''  To paint William's predicament at a
+stroke, his partner was a determined rather than
+a graceful dancer--and their efforts to attune
+themselves to each other and to the music were
+in a fair way to attract general attention.
+
+A coarse chuckle, a half-suppressed snort,
+assailed William's scarlet ear, and from the corner
+of his eye he caught a glimpse of Joe Bullitt
+gliding by, suffused; while over Joe's detested
+shoulder could be seen the adorable and piquant
+face of the One girl--also suffused.
+
+``Doggone it!'' William panted.
+
+``Oh, you mustn't be discouraged with yourself,'' 
+said Miss Boke, genially.  ``I've met lots
+of Men that had trouble to get started and
+turned out to be right good dancers, after all.  It
+seems to me we're kind of workin' against each
+other.  I'll tell you--you kind of let me do the
+guiding and I'll get you going fine.  Now!  ONE,
+two, ONE, two!  There!''
+
+William ceased to struggle for dominance, and
+their efforts to ``get started'' were at once
+successful.  With a muscular power that was
+surprising, Miss Boke bore him out into the circling
+current, swung him round and round, walked him
+backward half across the platform, then swung
+him round and round and round again.  For a
+girl, she ``guided'' remarkably well; nevertheless,
+a series of collisions, varying in intensity,
+marked the path of the pair upon the rather
+crowded platform.  In such emergencies Miss
+Boke proved herself deft in swinging William to
+act as a buffer, and he several times found himself
+heavily stricken from the rear; anon his face
+would be pressed suffocatingly into Miss Boke's
+hair, without the slightest wish on his part for
+such intimacy.  He had a helpless feeling, fully
+warranted by the circumstances.  Also, he soon
+became aware that Miss Boke's powerful ``guiding''
+was observed by the public; for, after one
+collision, more severe than others, a low voice
+hissed in his ear:
+
+``SHE WON'T HURT YOU MUCH, SILLY BILL.  SHE'S
+ONLY IN FUN!''
+
+This voice belonged to the dancer with whom
+he had just been in painful contact, Johnnie
+Watson.  However, Johnnie had whirled far
+upon another orbit before William found a retort,
+and then it was a feeble one.
+
+``I wish YOU'D try a few dances with her!''
+he whispered, inaudibly, but with unprecedented
+bitterness, as the masterly arm of his partner
+just saved him from going over the edge of the
+platform.  ``I bet she'd kill you!''
+
+More than once he tried to assert himself and
+resume his natural place as guide, but each time
+he did so he immediately got out of step with his
+partner, their knees collided embarrassingly, they
+staggered and walked upon each other's insteps--
+and William was forced to abandon the unequal
+contest.
+
+``I just love dancing,'' said Miss Boke, serenely. 
+``Don't you, Mr. Baxter?''
+
+``What?'' he gulped.  ``Yeh.''
+
+``It's a beautiful floor for dancing, isn't
+it?''
+
+``Yeh.''
+
+``I just love dancing,'' Miss Boke thought
+proper to declare again.  ``Don't you love it, Mr.
+Baxter?''
+
+This time he considered his enthusiasm to be
+sufficiently indicated by a nod.  He needed all
+his breath.
+
+``It's lovely,'' she murmured.  ``I hope they
+don't play `Home, Sweet Home' very early at
+parties in this town.  I could keep on like this
+all night!''
+
+To the gasping William it seemed that she
+already had kept on like this all night, and he
+expressed himself in one great, frank, agonized
+moan of relief when the music stopped.  ``I sh'
+think those musicians 'd be dead!'' he said, as he
+wiped his brow.  And then discovering that May
+Parcher stood at his elbow, he spoke hastily to
+her.  ``M'av the next 'thyou?''
+
+But Miss Parcher had begun to applaud the
+musicians for an encore.  She shook her head. 
+``Next's the third extra,'' she said.  ``And,
+anyhow, this one's going to be encored now.  You can
+have the twenty-second--if there IS any!''
+William threw a wild glance about him, looking
+for other girls, but the tireless orchestra began to
+play the encore, and Miss Boke, who had been
+applauding, instantly cast herself upon his bosom.
+``Come on!'' she cried.  ``Don't let's miss a second
+of it; It's just glorious!''
+
+When the encore was finished she seized William's
+arm, and, mentioning that she'd left her
+fan upon the chair under the maple-tree, added,
+``Come on!  Let's go get it QUICK!''
+
+Under the maple-tree she fanned herself and
+talked of her love for dancing until the music
+sounded again.  ``Come on!'' she cried, then. 
+``Don't let's miss a second of it!  It's just
+glorious!''
+
+And grasping his arm, she propelled him toward
+the platform with a merry little rush.
+
+So passed five dances.  Long, long dances.
+
+Likewise five encores.  Long encores.
+
+
+
+XXVII
+
+MAROONED
+
+At every possible opportunity William hailed
+other girls with a hasty ``M'av the next
+'thyou?'' but he was indeed unfortunate to
+have arrived so late.
+
+The best he got was a promise of ``the nine-
+teenth--if there IS any!''
+
+After each dance Miss Boke conducted him
+back to the maple-tree, aloof from the general
+throng, and William found the intermissions
+almost equal to his martyrdoms upon the platform. 
+But, as there was a barely perceptible balance in
+their favor, he collected some fragments of his
+broken spirit, when Miss Boke would have borne
+him to the platform for the sixth time, and begged
+to ``sit this one out,'' alleging that he had ``kind
+of turned his ankle, or something,'' he believed.
+
+The cordial girl at once placed him upon the
+chair and gallantly procured another for herself. 
+In her solicitude she sat close to him, looking
+fondly at his face, while William, though now
+and then rubbing his ankle for plausibility's sake,
+gazed at the platform with an expression which
+Gustave Dore would gratefully have found
+suggestive.  William was conscious of a voice
+continually in action near him, but not of what it
+said.  Miss Boke was telling him of the dancing
+``up at the lake'' where she had spent the summer,
+and how much she had loved it, but William
+missed all that.  Upon the many-colored platform
+the ineffable One drifted to and fro, back
+and forth; her little blonde head, in a golden net,
+glinting here and there like a bit of tinsel blowing
+across a flower-garden.
+
+And when that dance and its encore were over
+she went to lean against a tree, while Wallace
+Banks fanned her, but she was so busy with
+Wallace that she did not notice William, though
+she passed near enough to waft a breath of
+violet scent to his wan nose.  A fragment of her
+silver speech tinkled in his ear:
+
+``Oh, Wallie Banks!  Bid pid s'ant have
+Bruvva Josie-Joe's dance 'less Joe say so.  Lola
+MUS' be fair.  Wallie mustn't--''
+
+``That's that Miss Pratt,'' observed Miss Boke,
+following William's gaze with some interest. 
+``You met her yet?''
+
+``Yeh,'' said William.
+
+``She's been visiting here all summer,'' Miss
+Boke informed him.  ``I was at a little tea this
+afternoon, and some of the girls said this Miss
+Pratt said she'd never DREAM of getting engaged
+to any man that didn't have seven hundred and
+fifty thousand dollars.  I don't know if it's true
+or not, but I expect so.  Anyway, they said they
+heard her say so.''
+
+William lifted his right hand from his ankle
+and passed it, time after time, across his damp
+forehead.  He did not believe that Miss Pratt
+could have expressed herself in so mercenary a
+manner, but if she HAD--well, one fact in British
+history had so impressed him that he remembered
+it even after Examination: William Pitt, the
+younger, had been Prime Minister of England at
+twenty-one.
+
+If an Englishman could do a thing like that,
+surely a bright, energetic young American needn't
+feel worried about seven hundred and fifty
+thousand dollars!  And although William, at
+seventeen, had seldom possessed more than seven
+hundred and fifty cents, four long years must
+pass, and much could be done, before he would
+reach the age at which William Pitt attained the
+premiership--coincidentally a good, ripe,
+marriageable age.  Still, seven hundred and fifty
+thousand dollars is a stiffish order, even allowing
+four long years to fill it; and undoubtedly Miss
+Boke's bit of gossip added somewhat to the
+already sufficient anxieties of William's evening.
+
+``Up at the lake,'' Miss Boke chattered on,
+``we got to use the hotel dining-room for the
+hops.  It's a floor a good deal like this floor is
+to-night--just about oily enough and as nice a
+floor as ever I danced on.  We have awf'ly good
+times up at the lake.  'Course there aren't so
+many Men up there, like there are here to-night,
+and I MUST say I AM glad to get a chance to dance
+with a Man again!  I told you you'd dance all
+right, once we got started, and look at the way
+it's turned out: our steps just suit exactly!  If I
+must say it, I could scarcely think of anybody I
+EVER met I'd rather dance with.  When anybody's
+step suits in with mine, that way, why, I LOVE to
+dance straight through an evening with one person,
+the way we're doing.''
+
+Dimly, yet with strong repulsion, William
+perceived that their interminable companionship
+had begun to affect Miss Boke with a liking for
+him.  And as she chattered chummily on, revealing
+this increasing cordiality all the while--
+though her more obvious topics were dancing,
+dancing-floors, and ``the lake''--the reciprocal
+sentiment roused in his breast was that of Sindbad
+the Sailor for the Old Man of the Sea.
+
+He was unable to foresee a future apart from
+her; and when she informed him that she preferred
+his style of dancing to all other styles
+shown by the Men at this party, her thus singling
+him out for praise only emphasized, in his mind,,
+that point upon which he was the most embittered.
+
+``Yes!'' he reflected.  ``It had to be ME!'' 
+With all the crowd to choose from, Mrs. Parcher
+had to go and pick on HIM!  All, all the others
+went about, free as air, flitting from girl to girl--
+girls that danced like girls!  All, all except
+William, danced with Miss PRATT!  What Miss Pratt
+had offered HIM was a choice between the thirty-
+second dance and the twenty-first extra.  THAT
+was what he had to look forward to: the thirty-
+second reg'lar or the twenty-first extra!
+
+Meanwhile, merely through eternity, he was
+sealed unto Miss Boke.
+
+The tie that bound them oppressed him as if
+it had been an ill-omened matrimony, and he sat
+beside her like an unwilling old husband.  All
+the while, Miss Boke had no appreciation whatever
+of her companion's real condition, and, when
+little, spasmodic, sinister changes appeared in his
+face (as they certainly did from time to time) she
+attributed them to pains in his ankle.  However,
+William decided to discard his ankle, after they
+had ``sat out'' two dances on account of it.  He
+decided that he preferred dancing, and said he
+guessed he must be better.
+
+So they danced again--and again.
+
+When the fourteenth dance came, about half
+an hour before midnight, they were still dancing
+together.
+
+It was upon the conclusion of this fourteenth
+dance that Mr. Parcher mentioned to his wife a
+change in his feelings toward William.  ``I've
+been watching him,'' said Mr. Parcher, ``and I
+never saw true misery show plainer.  He's having
+a really horrible time.  By George!  I hate him,
+but I've begun to feel kind of sorry for him! 
+Can't you trot up somebody else, so he can get
+away from that fat girl?''
+
+Mrs.  Parcher shook her head in a discouraged
+way.  ``I've tried, and I've tried, and I've tried!''
+she said.
+
+``Well, try again.''
+
+``I can't now.''  She waved her hand toward
+the rear of the house.  Round the corner marched
+a short procession of negroes, bearing trays; and
+the dancers were dispersing themselves to chairs
+upon the lawn ``for refreshments.''
+
+``Well, do something,'' Mr. Parcher urged. 
+``We don't want to find him in the cistern in the
+morning!''
+
+Mrs. Parcher looked thoughtful, then brightened. 
+``_I_ know!'' she said.  ``I'll make May and
+Lola and their partners come sit in this little
+circle of chairs here, and then I'll go and bring
+Willie and Miss Boke to sit with them.  I'll give Willie
+the seat at Lola's left.  You keep the chairs.''
+
+Straightway she sped upon her kindly errand. 
+It proved successful, so successful, indeed, that
+without the slightest effort--without even a hint
+on her part--she brought not only William and
+his constant friend to sit in the circle with Miss
+Pratt, Miss Parcher and their escorts, but Mr.
+Bullitt, Mr. Watson, Mr. Banks, and three other
+young gentlemen as well.  Nevertheless, Mrs.
+Parcher managed to carry out her plan, and
+after a little display of firmness, saw William
+satisfactorily established in the chair at Miss Pratt's
+left.
+
+At last, at last, he sat beside the fairy-like
+creature, and filled his lungs with infinitesimal
+particles of violet scent.  More: he was no sooner
+seated than the little blonde head bent close to
+his; the golden net brushed his cheek.  She
+whispered:
+
+``No'ty ickle boy Batster!  Lola's last night,
+an' ickle boy Batster fluttin'!  Flut all night wif
+dray bid dirl!''
+
+William made no reply.
+
+There are occasions, infrequent, of course,
+when even a bachelor is not flattered by being
+accused of flirting.  William's feelings toward
+Miss Boke had by this time come to such a
+pass that he, regarded the charge of flirting
+with her as little less than an implication of
+grave mental deficiency.  And well he remembered 
+how Miss Pratt, beholding his subjugated
+gymnastics in the dance, had grown pink with
+laughter!  But still the rose-leaf lips whispered:
+
+``Lola saw!  Lola saw bad boy Batster under
+dray bid tree fluttin' wif dray bid dirl.  Fluttin'
+all night wif dray bid 'normous dirl!''
+
+Her cruelty was all unwitting; she intended
+to rally him sweetly.  But seventeen is deathly
+serious at such junctures, and William was in a
+sensitive condition.  He made no reply in words. 
+Instead, he drew himself up (from the waist,
+that is, because he was sitting) with a kind of
+proud dignity.  And that was all.
+
+``Oo tross?'' whispered Lola.
+
+He spake not.
+
+`` 'Twasn't my fault about dancing,'' she said. 
+``Bad boy!  What made you come so late?''
+
+He maintained his silence and the accompanying
+icy dignity, whereupon she made a charming
+little pout.
+
+``Oo be so tross,'' she said, ``Lola talk to nice
+Man uvver side of her!''
+
+With that she turned her back upon him and
+prattled merrily to the gentleman of sixteen upon
+her right.
+
+Still and cold sat William.  Let her talk to the
+Man at the other side of her as she would, and
+never so gaily, William knew that she was conscious
+every instant of the reproachful presence
+upon her left.  And somehow these moments of
+quiet and melancholy dignity became the most
+satisfactory he had known that evening.  For as
+he sat, so silent, so austere, and not yet eating,
+though a plate of chicken salad had been placed
+upon his lap, he began to feel that there was
+somewhere about him a mysterious superiority
+which set him apart from other people--and
+above them.  This quality, indefinable and lofty,
+had carried him through troubles, that very
+night, which would have wrecked the lives of
+such simple fellows as Joe Bullitt and Johnnie
+Watson.  And although Miss Pratt continued
+to make merry with the Man upon her right, it
+seemed to William that this was but outward
+show.  He had a strange, subtle impression that
+the mysterious superiority which set him apart
+from others was becoming perceptible to her--
+that she was feeling it, too.
+
+Alas!  Such are the moments Fate seizes upon
+to play the clown!
+
+Over the chatter and laughter of the guests
+rose a too familiar voice.  ``Lemme he'p you to
+nice tongue samwich, lady.  No'm?  Nice green
+lettuce samwich, lady?''
+
+Genesis!
+
+``Nice tongue samwich, suh?  Nice lettuce
+samwich, lady?'' he could be heard vociferating--
+perhaps a little too much as if he had
+sandwiches for sale.  ``Lemme jes' lay this nice
+green lettuce samwich on you' plate fer you,
+
+His wide-spread hand bore the tray of
+sandwiches high overhead, for his style in waiting
+was florid, though polished.  He walked with a
+faint, shuffling suggestion of a prance, a lissome
+pomposity adopted in obedience to the art-sense
+within him which bade him harmonize himself
+with occasions of state and fashion.  His manner
+was the super-supreme expression of graciousness,
+but the graciousness was innocent, being but an
+affectation and nothing inward--for inwardly
+Genesis was humble.  He was only pretending to
+be the kind of waiter he would like to be.
+
+And because he was a new waiter he strongly
+wished to show familiarity with his duties--
+familiarity, in fact, with everything and everybody. 
+This yearning, born of self-doubt, and intensified
+by a slight touch of gin, was beyond question
+the inspiration of his painful behavior when
+he came near the circle of chairs where sat Mr.
+and Mrs. Parcher, Miss Parcher, Miss Pratt,
+Miss Boke, Mr. Watson, Mr. Bullitt, others--and
+William.
+
+``Nice tongue samwich, lady!'' he announced,
+semi-cake-walking beneath his high-borne tray.
+
+Nice green lettuce sam--''  He came suddenly
+to a dramatic dead-stop as he beheld William
+sitting before him, wearing that strange new
+dignity and Mr. Baxter's evening clothes.  ``Name
+o' goo'ness!'' Genesis exclaimed, so loudly that
+every one looked up.  ``How in the livin' worl'
+you evuh come to git here?  You' daddy sut'ny
+mus' 'a' weakened 'way down 'fo' he let you
+wear his low-cut ves' an' pants an' long-tail
+coat!  I bet any man fifty cents you gone an'
+stole 'em out aftuh he done went to bed!''
+
+And he burst into a wild, free African laugh.
+
+At seventeen such things are not embarrassing;
+they are catastrophical.  But, mercifully,
+catastrophes often produce a numbness in the
+victims.  More as in a trance than actually
+William heard the outbreak of his young
+companions; and, during the quarter of an hour
+subsequent to Genesis's performance, the oft-
+renewed explosions of their mirth made but a
+kind of horrid buzzing in his ears.  Like sounds
+borne from far away were the gaspings of Mr.
+and Mrs. Parcher, striving with all their strength
+to obtain mastery of themselves once more.
+
+. . . A flourish of music challenged the
+dancers.  Couples appeared upon the platform.
+
+The dreadful supper was over.
+
+The ineffable One, supremely pink, rose from
+her seat at William's side and moved toward the
+platform with the glowing Joe Bullitt.  Then
+William, roused to action by this sight, sprang
+to his feet and took a step toward them.  But
+it was only one weak step.
+
+A warm and ample hand placed itself firmly
+inside the crook of his elbow.  ``Let's get started
+for this one before the floor gets all crowded
+up,'' said Miss Boke.
+
+Miss Boke danced and danced with him; she
+danced him on--and on--and on----
+
+At half past one the orchestra played ``Home,
+Sweet Home.''  As the last bars sounded, a
+group of earnest young men who had surrounded
+the lovely guest of honor, talking vehemently,
+broke into loud shouts, embraced one another and
+capered variously over the lawn.  Mr. Parcher
+beheld from a distance these manifestations, and
+then, with an astonishment even more profound,
+took note of the tragic William, who was running
+toward him, radiant--Miss Boke hovering futilely
+in the far background.
+
+``What's all the hullabaloo?'' Mr. Parcher inquired.
+
+``Miss Pratt!'' gasped William.  ``Miss Pratt!''
+
+``Well, what about her?''
+
+And upon receiving William's reply, Mr.
+Parcher might well have discerned behind it the
+invisible hand of an ironic but recompensing
+Providence making things even--taking from the
+one to give to the other.
+
+``She's going to stay!'' shouted the happy
+William.  ``She's promised to stay another
+week!''
+
+And then, mingling with the sounds of
+rejoicing, there ascended to heaven the stricken
+cry of an elderly man plunging blindly into the
+house in search of his wife.
+
+
+
+XXVIII
+
+RANNIE KIRSTED
+
+Observing the monotonously proper behavior
+of the sun, man had an absurd idea
+and invented Time.  Becoming still more absurd,
+man said, ``So much shall be a day; such and
+such shall be a week.  All weeks shall be the same
+length.''  Yet every baby knows better!  How
+long for Johnnie Watson, for Joe Bullitt, for
+Wallace Banks--how long for William Sylvanus
+Baxter was the last week of Miss Pratt?  No one
+can answer.  How long was that week for Mr.
+Parcher?  Again the mind is staggered.
+
+Many people, of course, considered it to be a
+week of average size.  Among these was Jane.
+
+Throughout seven days which brought some
+tense moments to the Baxter household, Jane
+remained calm; and she was still calm upon the
+eighth morning as she stood in the front yard of
+her own place of residence, gazing steadily across
+the street.  The object of her grave attention
+was an ample brick house, newly painted white
+after repairs and enlargements so inspiring to 
+Jane's faculty for suggesting better ways of
+doing things, that the workmen had learned to
+address her, with a slight bitterness, as ``Madam
+President.''
+
+Throughout the process of repair, and until the
+very last of the painting, Jane had considered this
+house to be as much her property as anybody's;
+for children regard as ownerless all vacant houses
+and all houses in course of construction or radical
+alteration.  Nothing short of furniture--intimate
+furniture in considerable quantity--hints that
+the public is not expected.  However, such a
+hint, or warning, was conveyed to Jane this
+morning, for two ``express wagons'' were standing
+at the curb with their backs impolitely toward
+the brick house; and powerful-voiced men
+went surging to and fro under fat arm-chairs,
+mahogany tables, disarticulated bedsteads, and
+baskets of china and glassware; while a harassed
+lady appeared in the outer doorway, from time
+to time, with gestures of lamentation and
+entreaty.  Upon the sidewalk, between the wagons
+and the gate, was a broad wet spot, vaguely
+circular, with a partial circumference of broken
+glass and extinct goldfish.
+
+Jane was forced to conclude that the brick
+house did belong to somebody, after all.  Wherefore,
+she remained in her own yard, a steadfast
+spectator, taking nourishment into her system
+at regular intervals.  This was beautifully
+automatic: in each hand she held a slice of bread,
+freely plastered over with butter, apple sauce, and
+powdered sugar; and when she had taken somewhat
+from the right hand, that hand slowly
+descended with its burden, while, simultaneously,
+the left began to rise, reaching the level of her
+mouth precisely at the moment when a little
+wave passed down her neck, indicating that the
+route was clear.  Then, having made delivery,
+the left hand sank, while the right began to rise
+again.  And, so well had custom trained Jane's
+members, never once did she glance toward either
+of these faithful hands or the food that it
+supported; her gaze was all the while free to remain
+upon the house across the way and the great
+doings before it.
+
+After a while, something made her wide eyes
+grow wider almost to their utmost.  Nay, the
+event was of that importance her mechanical
+hands ceased to move and stopped stock-still,
+the right half-way up, the left half-way down, as if
+because of sudden motor trouble within Jane. 
+Her mouth was equally affected, remaining open
+at a visible crisis in the performance of its duty. 
+These were the tokens of her agitation upon
+beholding the removal of a dolls' house from one of
+the wagons.  This dolls' house was at least five
+feet high, of proportionate breadth and depths
+the customary absence of a facade disclosing an
+interior of four luxurious floors, with stairways,
+fireplaces, and wall-paper.  Here was a mansion
+wherein doll-duchesses, no less, must dwell.
+
+Straightway, a little girl ran out of the open
+doorway of the brick house and, with a self-
+importance concentrated to the point of shrewishness,
+began to give orders concerning the disposal
+of her personal property, which included (as she
+made clear) not only the dolls' mansion, but also
+three dolls' trunks and a packing-case of fair
+size.  She was a thin little girl, perhaps half a
+year younger than Jane; and she was as soiled,
+particularly in respect to hands, brow, chin, and
+the knees of white stockings, as could be expected
+of any busybodyish person of nine or ten whose
+mother is house-moving.  But she was gifted--
+if we choose to put the matter in the hopeful,
+sweeter way--she was gifted with an unusually
+loud and shrill voice, and she made herself
+heard over the strong-voiced men to such emphatic
+effect that one of the latter, with the dolls'
+mansion upon his back, paused in the gateway
+to acquaint her with his opinion that of all
+the bossy little girls he had ever seen, heard, or
+heard of, she was the bossiest.
+
+``THE worst!'' he added.
+
+The little girl across the street was of course
+instantly aware of Jane, though she pretended
+not to be; and from the first her self-importance
+was in large part assumed for the benefit of the
+observer.  After a momentary silence, due to her
+failure to think of any proper response to the
+workman who so pointedly criticized her, she
+resumed the peremptory direction of her affairs. 
+She ran in and out of the house, her brow dark
+with frowns, her shoulders elevated; and by
+every means at her disposal she urged her audience
+to behold the frightful responsibilities of
+one who must keep a thousand things in her head
+at once, and yet be ready for decisive action at
+any instant.
+
+There may have been one weakness in this
+strong performance: the artistic sincerity of it
+was a little discredited by the increasing
+frequency with which the artist took note of her
+effect.  During each of her most impressive
+moments, she flashed, from the far corner of her eye,
+two questions at Jane:  ``How about THAT one? 
+Are you still watching Me?''
+
+Then, apparently in the very midst of her
+cares, she suddenly and without warning ceased
+to boss, walked out into the street, halted, and
+stared frankly at Jane.
+
+Jane had begun her automatic feeding again. 
+She continued it, meanwhile seriously returning
+the stare of the new neighbor.  For several minutes
+this mutual calm and inoffensive gaze was
+protracted; then Jane, after swallowing the last
+morsel of her supplies, turned her head away and
+looked at a tree.  The little girl, into whose eyes
+some wistfulness had crept, also turned her head
+and looked at a tree.  After a while, she advanced
+to the curb on Jane's side of the street, and,
+swinging her right foot, allowed it to kick the
+curbstone repeatedly.
+
+Jane came out to the sidewalk and began to
+kick one of the fence-pickets.
+
+``You see that ole fatty?'' asked the little girl,
+pointing to one of the workmen, thus sufficiently
+identified.
+
+``Yes.''
+
+``That's the one broke the goldfish,'' said the
+little girl.  There was a pause during which she
+continued to scuff the curbstone with her shoe,
+Jane likewise scuffing the fence-picket.  ``I'm
+goin' to have papa get him arrested,'' added the
+stranger.
+
+``My papa got two men arrested once,'' Jane
+said, calmly.  ``Two or three.''
+
+The little girl's eyes, wandering upward, took
+note of Jane's papa's house, and of a fierce young
+gentleman framed in an open window up-stairs. 
+He was seated, wore ink upon his forehead, and
+tapped his teeth with a red penholder.
+
+``Who is that?'' she asked.
+
+``It's Willie.''
+
+``Is it your papa?''
+
+``NO-O-O-O!'' Jane exclaimed.  ``It's WILLIE!''
+
+``Oh,'' said the little girl, apparently satisfied.
+
+Each now scuffed less energetically with her
+shoe; feet slowed down; so did conversation, and,
+for a time, Jane and the stranger wrapped themselves
+in stillness, though there may have been
+some silent communing between them.  Then the
+new neighbor placed her feet far apart and
+leaned backward upon nothing, curving her front
+outward and her remarkably flexible spine inward
+until a profile view of her was grandly semicircular.
+
+Jane watched her attentively, but without
+comment.  However, no one could have doubted that
+the processes of acquaintance were progressing
+favorably.
+
+``Let's go in our yard,'' said Jane.
+
+The little girl straightened herself with a slight
+gasp, and accepted the invitation.  Side by side,
+the two passed through the open gate, walked
+gravely forth upon the lawn, and halted, as by
+common consent.  Jane thereupon placed her
+feet wide apart and leaned backward upon nothing,
+attempting the feat in contortion just
+performed by the stranger.
+
+``Look,'' she said.  ``Look at ME!''
+
+But she lacked the other's genius, lost her
+balance, and fell.  Born persistent, she 
+immediately got to her feet and made fresh efforts.
+
+``No!  Look at ME!'' the little girl cried,
+becoming semicircular again.  ``This is the way. 
+I call it `puttin' your stummick out o' joint.' 
+You haven't got yours out far enough.''
+
+``Yes, I have,'' said Jane, gasping.
+
+``Well, to do it right, you must WALK that way.
+As soon as you get your stummick out o' joint,
+you must begin an' walk.  Look!  Like this.'' 
+And the little girl, having achieved a state of
+such convexity that her braided hair almost
+touched the ground behind her, walked
+successfully in that singular attitude.
+
+``I'm walkin','' Jane protested, her face not
+quite upside down.  ``Look!  I'M walkin' that
+way, too.  My stummick--''
+
+There came an outraged shout from above, and
+a fierce countenance, stained with ink, protruded
+from the window.
+
+``Jane!''
+
+``What?''
+
+``Stop that!  Stop putting your stomach out
+in front of you like that!  It's disgraceful!''
+
+Both young ladies, looking rather oppressed,
+resumed the perpendicular.  ``Why doesn't he like
+it?'' the stranger asked in a tone of pure wonder.
+
+``I don't know,'' said Jane.  ``He doesn't like
+much of anything.  He's seventeen years old.''
+
+After that, the two stared moodily at the
+ground for a little while, chastened by the severe
+presence above; then Jane brightened.
+
+``_I_ know!'' she exclaimed, cozily.  ``Let's play
+callers.  Right here by this bush 'll be my house. 
+You come to call on me, an' we'll talk about our
+chuldren.  You be Mrs. Smith an' I'm Mrs.
+Jones.''  And in the character of a hospitable
+matron she advanced graciously toward the new
+neighbor.  ``Why, my dear Mrs. SMITH, come
+right IN!  I THOUGHT you'd call this morning.  I
+want to tell you about my lovely little daughter. 
+She's only ten years old, an' says the brightest
+THINGS!  You really must--''
+
+But here Jane interrupted herself abruptly,
+and, hopping behind the residential bush, peeped
+over it, not at Mrs. Smith, but at a boy of ten or
+eleven who was passing along the sidewalk. 
+Her expression was gravely interested, somewhat
+complacent; and Mrs. Smith was not so lacking
+in perception that she failed to understand how
+completely--for the time being, at least--calling
+was suspended.
+
+The boy whistled briskly, ``My country, 'tis
+of thee,'' and though his knowledge of the
+air failed him when he finished the second line,
+he was not disheartened, but began at the
+beginning again, continuing repeatedly after this
+fashion to offset monotony by patriotism.  He
+whistled loudly; he walked with ostentatious
+intent to be at some heavy affair in the distance;
+his ears were red.  He looked neither to the right
+nor to the left.
+
+That is, he looked neither to the right nor to
+the left until he had passed the Baxters' fence. 
+But when he had gone as far as the upper corner
+of the fence beyond, he turned his head and
+looked back, without any expression--except that
+of a whistler--at Jane.  And thus, still whistling
+``My country, 'tis of thee,'' and with blank pink
+face over his shoulder, he proceeded until he was
+out of sight.
+
+``Who was that boy?'' the new neighbor then
+inquired.
+
+``It's Freddie,'' said Jane, placidly.  ``He's in
+our Sunday-school.  He's in love of me.''
+
+``JANE!''
+
+Again the outraged and ink-stained countenance
+glared down from the window.
+
+``What you want?'' Jane asked.
+
+``What you MEAN talking about such things?''
+William demanded.  ``In all my life I never
+heard anything as disgusting!  Shame on you!''
+
+The little girl from across the street looked
+upward thoughtfully.  ``He's mad,'' she
+remarked, and, regardless of Jane's previous
+information, ``It IS your papa, isn't it?'' she
+insisted.
+
+``No!'' said Jane, testily.  ``I told you five
+times it's my brother Willie.''
+
+``Oh!'' said the little girl, and, grasping the fact
+that William's position was, in dignity and
+authority, negligible, compared with that which she
+had persisted in imagining, she felt it safe to tint
+her upward gaze with disfavor.  ``He acts kind
+of crazy,'' she murmured.
+
+``He's in love of Miss Pratt,'' said Jane. 
+``She's goin' away to-day.  She said she'd go
+before, but to-day she IS!  Mr. Parcher, where
+she visits, he's almost dead, she's stayed so long. 
+She's awful, I think.''
+
+William, to whom all was audible, shouted,
+hoarsely, ``I'll see to YOU!'' and disappeared from
+the window.
+
+``Will he come down here?'' the little girl
+asked, taking a step toward the gate.
+
+``No.  He's just gone to call mamma.  All
+she'll do' ll be to tell us to go play somewheres
+else.  Then we can go talk to Genesis.''
+
+``Who?''
+
+``Genesis.  He's puttin' a load of coal in the
+cellar window with a shovel.  He's nice.''
+
+``What's he put the coal in the window
+for?''
+
+``He's a colored man,'' said Jane.
+
+``Shall we go talk to him now?''
+
+``No,'' Jane said, thoughtfully.  ``Let's be
+playin' callers when mamma comes to tell us to
+go 'way.  What was your name?''
+
+``Rannie.''
+
+``No, it wasn't.''
+
+``It is too, Rannie,'' the little girl insisted. 
+``My whole name's Mary Randolph Kirsted, but
+my short name's Rannie.''
+
+Jane laughed.  ``What a funny name!'' she
+said.  ``I didn't mean your real name; I meant
+your callers' name.  One of us was Mrs. Jones,
+and one was--''
+
+``I want to be Mrs. Jones,'' said Rannie.
+
+``Oh, my DEAR Mrs. Jones,'' Jane began at
+once, ``I want to tell you about my lovely
+chuldren.  I have two, one only seven years old, and
+the other--''
+
+``Jane!'' called Mrs. Baxter from William's
+window.
+
+``Yes'm?''
+
+``You must go somewhere else to play.  Willie's
+trying to work at his studies up here, and he says
+you've disturbed him very much.''
+
+``Yes'm.''
+
+The obedient Jane and her friend turned to go,
+and as they went, Miss Mary Randolph Kirsted
+allowed her uplifted eyes to linger with increased
+disfavor upon William, who appeared beside
+Mrs. Baxter at the window.
+
+``I tell you what let's do,'' Rannie suggested in
+a lowered voice.  ``He got so fresh with us, an'
+made your mother come, an' all, let's--let's--''
+
+She hesitated.
+
+``Let's what?'' Jane urged her, in an eager
+whisper.
+
+``Let's think up somep'n he won't like--an'
+DO it!''
+
+They disappeared round a corner of the house,
+their heads close together.
+
+
+
+XXIX
+
+``DON'T FORGET!''
+
+Up-stairs, Mrs. Baxter moved to the door
+of her son's room, pretending to be unconscious
+of the gaze he maintained upon her.  Mustering
+courage to hum a little tune and affecting
+inconsequence, she had nearly crossed the
+threshold when he said, sternly:
+
+``And this is all you intend to say to that
+child?''
+
+``Why, yes, Willie.''
+
+``And yet I told you what she said!'' he cried. 
+``I told you I HEARD her stand there and tell that
+dirty-faced little girl how that idiot boy that's
+always walkin' past here four or five times a
+day, whistling and looking back, was in `love
+of' her!  Ye gods!  What kind of a person will
+she grow up into if you don't punish her for
+havin' ideas like that at her age?''
+
+Mrs. Baxter regarded him mildly, not replying,
+and he went on, with loud indignation:
+
+``I never heard of such a thing!  That Worm
+walkin' past here four or five times a day just to
+look at JANE!  And her standing there, calmly
+tellin' that sooty-faced little girl, `He's in love of
+me'!  Why, it's enough to sicken a man!  Honestly,
+if I had my way, I'd see that both she and
+that little Freddie Banks got a first-class whipping!''
+
+``Don't you think, Willie,'' said Mrs. Baxter--
+``don't you think that, considering the rather
+noncommittal method of Freddie's courtship, you are
+suggesting extreme measures?''
+
+``Well, SHE certainly ought to be punished!'' he
+insisted, and then, with a reversal to agony, he
+shuddered.  ``That's the least of it!'' he cried. 
+``It's the insulting things you always allow her to
+say of one of the noblest girls in the United
+States--THAT'S what counts!  On the very last
+day--yes, almost the last hour--that Miss Pratt's
+in this town, you let your only daughter stand
+there and speak disrespectfully of her--and then
+all you do is tell her to `go and play somewhere
+else'!  I don't understand your way of bringing
+up a child,'' he declared, passionately.  ``I do
+NOT!''
+
+``There, there, Willie,'' Mrs. Baxter said. 
+``You're all wrought up--''
+
+``I am NOT wrought up!'' shouted William. 
+``Why should I be charged with--''
+
+``Now, now!'' she said.  ``You'll feel better to-morrow.''
+
+``What do you mean by that?'' he demanded,
+breathing deeply.
+
+For reply she only shook her head in an odd
+little way, and in her parting look at him there
+was something at once compassionate, amused,
+and reassuring.
+
+``You'll be all right, Willie,'' she said, softly,
+and closed the door.
+
+Alone, William lifted clenched hands in a series
+of tumultuous gestures at the ceiling; then he
+moaned and sank into a chair at his writing-
+table.  Presently a comparative calm was
+restored to him, and with reverent fingers he took
+from a drawer a one-pound box of candy, covered
+with white tissue-paper, girdled with blue ribbon. 
+He set the box gently beside him upon the table;
+then from beneath a large, green blotter drew
+forth some scribbled sheets.  These he placed
+before him, and, taking infinite pains with his
+handwriting, slowly copied:
+
+
+DEAR LOLA--I presume when you are reading these lines
+it will be this afternoon and you will be on the train moving
+rapidly away from this old place here farther and farther
+from it all.  As I sit here at my old desk and look back
+upon it all while I am writing this farewell letter I hope when
+you are reading it you also will look back upon it all and
+think of one you called (Alias) Little Boy Baxter.  As I
+sit here this morning that you are going away at last I
+look back and I cannot rember any summer in my whole
+life which has been like this summer, because a great change
+has come over me this summer.  If you would like to know
+what this means it was something like I said when John
+Watson got there yesterday afternoon and interupted
+what I said.  May you enjoy this candy and think of the
+giver.  I will put something in with this letter.  It is
+something maybe you would like to have and in exchange
+I would give all I possess for one of you if you would send
+it to me when you get home.  Please do this for now my
+heart is braking.
+                              Yours sincerely,
+          WILLIAM S. BAXTER (ALIAS) LITTLE BOY BAXTER.
+
+
+William opened the box of candy and placed
+the letter upon the top layer of chocolates.  Upon
+the letter he placed a small photograph (wrapped
+in tissue-paper) of himself.  Then, with a pair of
+scissors, he trimmed an oblong of white cardboard
+to fit into the box.  Upon this piece of
+cardboard he laboriously wrote, copying from a
+tortured, inky sheet before him:
+
+                    IN DREAM
+               BY WILLIAM S. BAXTER
+
+The sunset light
+Fades into night
+But never will I forget
+The smile that haunts me yet
+Through the future four long years
+I hope you will remember with tears
+Whate'er my rank or station
+Whilst receiving my education
+Though far away you seem
+I will see thee in dream.
+
+
+He placed his poem between the photograph
+and the letter, closed the box, and tied the tissue-
+paper about it again with the blue ribbon.
+Throughout these rites (they were rites both in
+spirit and in manner) he was subject to little
+catchings of the breath, half gulp, half sigh. 
+But the dolorous tokens passed, and he sat with
+elbows upon the table, his chin upon his hands,
+reverie in his eyes.  Tragedy had given way to
+gentler pathos;--beyond question, something had
+measurably soothed him.  Possibly, even in this
+hour preceding the hour of parting, he knew a
+little of that proud amazement which any poet
+is entitled to feel over each new lyric miracle
+just wrought.
+
+Perhaps he was helped, too, by wondering what
+Miss Pratt would think of him when she read ``In
+Dream,'' on the train that afternoon.  For reasons
+purely intuitive, and decidedly without foundation
+in fact, he was satisfied that no rival
+farewell poem would be offered her, and so it may
+be that he thought ``In Dream'' might show her
+at last, in one blaze of light, what her eyes had
+sometimes fleetingly intimated she did perceive
+in part--the difference between William and
+such every-day, rather well-meaning, fairly good-
+hearted people as Joe Bullitt, Wallace Banks,
+Johnnie Watson, and others.  Yes, when she
+came to read ``In Dream,'' and to ``look back
+upon it all,'' she would surely know--at last!
+
+And then, when the future four long years
+(while receiving his education) had passed, he
+would go to her.  He would go to her, and she
+would take him by the hand, and lead him to her
+father, and say, ``Father, this is William.''
+
+But William would turn to her, and, with the
+old, dancing light in his eyes, ``No, Lola,'' he
+would say, ``not William, but Ickle Boy Baxter! 
+Always and always, just that for you; oh, my
+dear!''
+
+And then, as in story and film and farce and
+the pleasanter kinds of drama, her father would
+say, with kindly raillery, ``Well, when you two
+young people get through, you'll find me in the
+library, where I have a pretty good BUSINESS
+proposition to lay before YOU, young man!''
+
+And when the white-waistcoated, white-side-
+burned old man had, chuckling, left the room,
+William would slowly lift his arms; but Lola
+would move back from him a step--only a step--
+and after laying a finger archly upon her lips to
+check him, ``Wait, sir!'' she would say.  ``I have
+a question to ask you, sir!''
+
+``What question, Lola?''
+
+``THIS question, sir!'' she would reply.  ``In all
+that summer, sir, so long ago, why did you never
+tell me what you WERE, until I had gone away and
+it was too late to show you what I felt?  Ah,
+Ickle Boy Baxter, I never understood until I
+looked back upon it all, after I had read `In
+Dream,' on the train that day!  THEN I KNEW!'' 
+``And now, Lola?'' William would say.  ``Do
+you understand me, NOW?''
+
+Shyly she would advance the one short step
+she had put between them, while he, with lifted,
+yearning arms, this time destined to no
+disappointment----
+
+At so vital a moment did Mrs. Baxter knock at
+his door and consoling reverie cease to minister
+unto William.  Out of the rosy sky he dropped,
+falling miles in an instant, landing with a bump. 
+He started, placed the sacred box out of sight,
+and spoke gruffly.
+
+``What you want?''
+
+``I'm not coming in, Willie,'' said his mother.
+``I just wanted to know--I thought maybe you
+were looking out of the window and noticed where
+those children went.''
+
+``What children?''
+
+``Jane and that little girl from across the
+street--Kirsted, her name must be.''
+
+``No.  I did not.''
+
+``I just wondered,'' Mrs. Baxter said, timidly. 
+``Genesis thinks he heard the little Kirsted girl
+telling Jane she had plenty of money for car-
+fare.  He thinks they went somewhere on a
+street-car.  I thought maybe you noticed
+wheth--''
+
+``I told you I did not.''
+
+``All right,'' she said, placatively.  ``I didn't
+mean to bother you, dear.''
+
+Following this there was a silence; but no
+sound of receding footsteps indicated Mrs.
+Baxter's departure from the other side of the
+closed door.
+
+``Well, what you WANT?'' William shouted.
+
+``Nothing--nothing at all,'' said the compassionate
+voice.  ``I just thought I'd have lunch a
+little later than usual; not till half past one. 
+That is if--well, I thought probably you meant
+to go to the station to see Miss Pratt off on the
+one-o'clock train.''
+
+Even so friendly an interest as this must have
+appeared to the quivering William an intrusion in
+his affairs, for he demanded, sharply:
+
+``How'd you find out she's going at one
+o'clock?''
+
+``Why--why, Jane mentioned it,'' Mrs. Baxter
+replied, with obvious timidity.  ``Jane said--''
+
+She was interrupted by the loud, desperate
+sound of William's fist smiting his writing-table,
+so sensitive was his condition.  ``This is just
+unbearable!'' he cried.  ``Nobody's business is safe
+from that child!''
+
+``Why, Willie, I don't see how it matters if--''
+
+He uttered a cry.  ``No!  Nothing matters! 
+Nothing matters at all!  Do you s'pose I want
+that child, with her insults, discussing when Miss
+Pratt is or is not going away?  Don't you know
+there are SOME things that have no business to be
+talked about by every Tom, Dick, and Harry?''
+
+``Yes, dear,'' she said.  ``I understand, of
+course.  Jane only told me she met Mr. Parcher
+on the street, and he mentioned that Miss Pratt
+was going at one o'clock to-day.  That's all
+I--''
+
+``You say you understand,'' he wailed, shaking
+his head drearily at the closed door, ``and yet,
+even on such a day as this, you keep TALKING! 
+Can't you see sometimes there's times when a
+person can't stand to--''
+
+``Yes, Willie,'' Mrs. Baxter interposed,
+hurriedly.  ``Of course!  I'm going now.  I have
+to go hunt up those children, anyway.  You try
+to be back for lunch at half past one--and don't
+worry, dear; you really WILL be all right!''
+
+She departed, a sigh from the abyss following
+her as she went down the hall.  Her comforting
+words meant nothing pleasant to her son, who
+felt that her optimism was out of place and
+tactless.  He had no intention to be ``all right,'' and
+he desired nobody to interfere with his misery.
+
+He went to his mirror, and, gazing long--long
+and piercingly--at the William there limned, enacted,
+almost unconsciously, a little scene of parting. 
+The look of suffering upon the mirrored face
+slowly altered; in its place came one still 
+sorrowful, but tempered with sweet indulgence.  He
+stretched out his hand, as if he set it upon a head
+at about the height of his shoulder.
+
+``Yes, it may mean--it may mean forever!''
+he said in a low, tremulous voice.  ``Little girl,
+we MUST be brave!''
+
+And the while his eyes gazed into the mirror,
+they became expressive of a momentary pleased
+surprise, as if, even in the arts of sorrow, he
+found himself doing better than he knew.  But his
+sorrow was none the less genuine because of that.
+
+Then he noticed the ink upon his forehead, and
+went away to wash.  When he returned he did
+an unusual thing--he brushed his coat thoroughly,
+removing it for this special purpose. 
+After that, he earnestly combed and brushed his
+hair, and retied his tie.  Next, he took from a
+drawer two clean handkerchiefs.  He placed one
+in his breast pocket, part of the colored border
+of the handkerchief being left on exhibition,
+and with the other he carefully wiped his shoes. 
+Finally, he sawed it back and forth across them,
+and, with a sigh, languidly dropped it upon the
+floor, where it remained.
+
+Returning to the mirror, he again brushed his
+hair--he went so far, this time, as to brush his
+eyebrows, which seemed not much altered by the
+operation.  Suddenly, he was deeply affected by
+something seen in the glass.
+
+``By George!'' he exclaimed aloud.
+
+Seizing a small hand-mirror, he placed it in
+juxtaposition to his right eye, and closely studied
+his left profile as exhibited in the larger mirror. 
+Then he examined his right profile, subjecting it
+to a like scrutiny emotional, yet attentive and
+prolonged.
+
+``By George!'' he exclaimed, again.  ``By
+George!''
+
+He had made a discovery.  There was a downy
+shadow upon his upper lip.  What he had just
+found out was that this down could be seen
+projecting beyond the line of his lip, like a tiny
+nimbus.  It could be seen in PROFILE.
+
+``By GEORGE!'' William exclaimed.
+
+He was still occupied with the two mirrors when
+his mother again tapped softly upon his door,
+rousing him as from a dream (brief but engaging)
+to the heavy realities of that day.
+
+``What you want now?''
+
+``I won't come in,'' said Mrs. Baxter.  ``I just
+came to see.''
+
+``See what?''
+
+``I wondered--  I thought perhaps you needed
+something.  I knew your watch was out of
+order--''
+
+``F'r 'evan's sake what if it is?''
+
+She offered a murmur of placative laughter as
+her apology, and said:  ``Well, I just thought
+I'd tell you--because if you did intend going
+to the station, I thought you probably wouldn't
+want to miss it and get there too late.  I've got
+your hat here all nicely brushed for you. It's
+nearly twenty minutes of one, Willie.''
+
+``WHAT?''
+
+``Yes, it is.  It's--''
+
+She had no further speech with him.
+
+Breathless, William flung open his door, seized
+the hat, racketed down the stairs, and out
+through the front door, which he left open behind
+him.  Eight seconds later he returned at a gallop,
+hurtled up the stairs and into his room, emerging
+instantly with something concealed under his
+coat.  Replying incoherently to his mother's
+inquiries, he fell down the stairs as far as the
+landing, used the impetus thus given as a help
+to greater speed for the rest of the descent--and
+passed out of hearing.
+
+Mrs. Baxter sighed, and went to a window
+in her own room, and looked out.
+
+William was already more than half-way to
+the next corner, where there was a car-line
+that ran to the station; but the distance was
+not too great for Mrs. Baxter to comprehend the
+nature of the symmetrical white parcel now carried
+in his right hand.  Her face became pensive
+as she gazed after the flying slender figure:--there
+came to her mind the recollection of a seventeen-
+year-old boy who had brought a box of candy (a
+small one, like William's) to the station, once,
+long ago, when she had been visiting in another
+town.  For just a moment she thought of that
+boy she had known, so many years ago, and a
+smile came vaguely upon her lips.  She wondered
+what kind of a woman he had married, and how
+many children he had--and whether he was a
+widower----
+
+The fleeting recollection passed; she turned
+from the window and shook her head, puzzled.
+
+``Now where on earth could Jane and that
+little Kirsted girl have gone?'' she murmured.
+
+. . . At the station, William, descending from
+the street-car, found that he had six minutes to
+spare.  Reassured of so much by the great clock
+in the station tower, he entered the building, and,
+with calm and dignified steps, crossed the large
+waiting-room.  Those calm and dignified steps
+were taken by feet which little betrayed the
+tremulousness of the knees above them.  Moreover,
+though William's face was red, his expression--
+cold, and concentrated upon high matters
+--scorned the stranger, and warned the lower
+classes that the mission of this bit of gentry
+was not to them.
+
+With but one sweeping and repellent glance
+over the canaille present, he made sure that the
+person he sought was not in the waiting-room.
+Therefore, he turned to the doors which gave
+admission to the tracks, but before he went out
+he paused for an instant of displeasure.  Hard
+by the doors stood a telephone-booth, and from
+inside this booth a little girl of nine or ten
+was peering eagerly out at William, her eyes just
+above the lower level of the glass window in the
+door.
+
+Even a prospect thus curtailed revealed her as
+a smudged and dusty little girl; and, evidently,
+her mother must have been preoccupied with
+some important affair that day; but to William
+she suggested nothing familiar.  As his glance
+happened to encounter hers, the peering eyes
+grew instantly brighter with excitement;--she
+exposed her whole countenance at the window,
+and impulsively made a face at him.
+
+William had not the slightest recollection of
+ever having seen her before.
+
+He gave her one stern look and went on;
+though he felt that something ought to be done. 
+The affair was not a personal one--patently,
+this was a child who played about the station
+and amused herself by making faces at everybody
+who passed the telephone-booth--still, the
+authorities ought not to allow it.  People did not
+come to the station to be insulted.
+
+Three seconds later the dusty-faced little girl
+and her moue were sped utterly from William's
+mind.  For, as the doors swung together behind
+him, he saw Miss Pratt.  There were no gates
+nor iron barriers to obscure the view; there was
+no train-shed to darken the air.  She was at
+some distance, perhaps two hundred feet, along
+the tracks, where the sleeping-cars of the long
+train would stop.  But there she stood, mistakable
+for no other on this wide earth!
+
+There she stood--a glowing little figure in the
+hazy September sunlight, her hair an amber mist
+under the adorable little hat; a small bunch of
+violets at her waist; a larger bunch of fragrant
+but less expensive sweet peas in her right hand;
+half a dozen pink roses in her left; her little dog
+Flopit in the crook of one arm; and a one-pound
+box of candy in the crook of the other--ineffable,
+radiant, starry, there she stood!
+
+Near her also stood her young hostess, and
+Wallace Banks, Johnnie Watson, and Joe Bullitt
+--three young gentlemen in a condition of solemn
+tensity.  Miss Parcher saw William as he
+emerged from the station building, and she
+waved her parasol in greeting, attracting the
+attention of the others to him, so that they:
+all turned and stared.
+
+Seventeen sometimes finds it embarrassing
+(even in a state of deep emotion) to walk two
+hundred feet, or thereabout, toward a group of
+people who steadfastly watch the long approach.
+And when the watching group contains the lady
+of all the world before whom one wishes to
+appear most debonair, and contains not only her,
+but several rivals, who, though FAIRLY good-
+hearted, might hardly be trusted to neglect such
+an opportunity to murmur something jocular
+about one--  No, it cannot be said that William
+appeared to be wholly without self-consciousness.
+
+In fancy he had prophesied for this moment
+something utterly different.  He had seen himself
+parting from her, the two alone as within a
+cloud.  He had seen himself gently placing his
+box of candy in her hands, some of his fingers
+just touching some of hers and remaining thus
+lightly in contact to the very last.  He had seen
+himself bending toward the sweet blonde head to
+murmur the few last words of simple eloquence,
+while her eyes lifted in mysterious appeal to his
+--and he had put no other figures, not even Miss
+Parcher's, into this picture.
+
+Parting is the most dramatic moment in young
+love, and if there is one time when the lover
+wishes to present a lofty but graceful appearance
+it is at the last.  To leave with the loved
+one, for recollection, a final picture of manly
+dignity in sorrow--that, above all things, is the
+lover's desire.  And yet, even at the beginning
+of William's two-hundred-foot advance (later so
+much discussed) he felt the heat surging over his
+ears, and, as he took off his hat, thinking to
+wave it jauntily in reply to Miss Parcher, he
+made but an uncertain gesture of it, so that he
+wished he had not tried it.  Moreover, he had
+covered less than a third of the distance, when
+he became aware that all of the group were staring
+at him with unaccountable eagerness, and
+had begun to laugh.
+
+William felt certain that his attire was in no
+way disordered, nor in itself a cause for laughter;--
+all of these people had often seen him
+dressed as he was to-day, and had preserved
+their gravity.  But, in spite of himself, he took
+off his hat again, and looked to see if anything
+about it might explain this mirth, which, at his
+action, increased.  Nay, the laughter began to be
+shared by strangers; and some set down their
+hand-luggage for greater pleasure in what they
+saw.
+
+William's inward state became chaotic.
+
+He tried to smile carelessly, to prove his
+composure, but he found that he had lost almost all
+control over his features. He had no knowledge
+of his actual expression except that it hurt him. 
+In desperation he fell back upon hauteur; he
+managed to frown, and walked proudly.  At that
+they laughed the more, Wallace Banks rudely
+pointing again and again at William; and not
+till the oncoming sufferer reached a spot within
+twenty feet of these delighted people did he
+grasp the significance of Wallace's repeated gesture
+of pointing.  Even then he understood only
+when the gesture was supplemented by half-
+articulate shouts:
+
+``Behind you!  Look BEHIND you!''
+
+The stung youth turned.
+
+There, directly behind him, he beheld an
+exclusive little procession consisting of two damsels
+in single file, the first soiled with house-moving,
+the second with apple sauce.
+
+For greater caution they had removed their
+shoes; and each damsel, as she paraded, dangled
+from each far-extended hand a shoe.  And both
+damsels, whether beneath apple sauce or dust
+smudge, were suffused with the rapture of a great
+mockery.
+
+They were walking with their stummicks out
+o' joint.
+
+At sight of William's face they squealed.  They
+turned and ran.  They got themselves out of
+sight.
+
+Simultaneously, the air filled with solid thunder
+and the pompous train shook the ground.  Ah,
+woe's the word!  This was the thing that meant
+to bear away the golden girl and honeysuckle of
+the world--meant to, and would, not abating one
+iron second!
+
+Now a porter had her hand-bag.
+
+Dear Heaven! to be a porter--yes, a colored
+one!  What of that, NOW?  Just to be a simple
+porter, and journey with her to the far, strange
+pearl among cities whence she had come!
+
+The gentle porter bowed her toward the steps
+of his car; but first she gave Flopit into the hands
+of May Parcher, for a moment, and whispered
+a word to Wallace Banks; then to Joe Bullitt;
+then to Johnnie Watson;--then she ran to William.
+
+She took his hand.
+
+``Don't forget!'' she whispered.  ``Don't
+forget Lola!''
+
+He stood stock-still.  His face was blank, his
+hand limp.  He said nothing.
+
+She enfolded May Parcher, kissed her
+devotedly; then, with Flopit once more under her
+arm, she ran and jumped upon the steps just
+as the train began to move.  She stood there, on
+the lowest step, slowly gliding away from them,
+and in her eyes there was a sparkle of tears, left,
+it may be, from her laughter at poor William's
+pageant with Jane and Rannie Kirsted--or, it
+may be, not.
+
+She could not wave to her friends, in answer
+to their gestures of farewell, for her arms were
+too full of Flopit and roses and candy and sweet
+peas; but she kept nodding to them in a way
+that showed them how much she thanked them
+for being sorry she was going--and made it clear
+that she was sorry, too, and loved them all.
+
+``Good-by!'' she meant.
+
+Faster she glided; the engine passed from sight
+round a curve beyond a culvert, but for a moment
+longer they could see the little figure upon
+the steps--and, to the very last glimpse they
+had of her, the small, golden head was still
+nodding ``Good-by!''  Then those steps whereon
+she stood passed in their turn beneath the culvert,
+and they saw her no more.
+
+Lola Pratt was gone!
+
+Wet-eyed, her young hostess of the long
+summer turned away, and stumbled against William. 
+``Why, Willie Baxter!'' she cried, blinking at
+him.
+
+The last car of the train had rounded the curve
+and disappeared, but William was still waving
+farewell--not with his handkerchief, but with a
+symmetrical, one-pound parcel, wrapped in white
+tissue-paper, girdled with blue ribbon.
+
+``Never mind!'' said May Parcher.  ``Let's
+all walk Up-town together, and talk about her on
+the way, and we'll go by the express-office, and
+you can send your candy to her by express,
+Willie.''
+
+
+
+XXX
+
+THE BRIDE-TO-BE
+
+In the smallish house which all summer long,
+from morning until late at night, had
+resounded with the voices of young people, echoing
+their songs, murmurous with their theories of
+love, or vibrating with their glee, sometimes
+shaking all over during their more boisterous
+moods--in that house, now comparatively so
+vacant, the proprietor stood and breathed deep
+breaths.
+
+``Hah!'' he said, inhaling and exhaling the air
+profoundly.
+
+His wife was upon the porch, outside, sewing. 
+The silence was deep.  He seemed to listen to it
+--to listen with gusto; his face slowly broadening,
+a pinkish tint overspreading it.  His flaccid
+cheeks appeared to fill, to grow firm again, a
+smile finally widening them.
+
+``HAH!'' he breathed, sonorously.  He gave
+himself several resounding slaps upon the chest,
+then went out to the porch and sat in a rocking-
+chair near his wife.  He spread himself out 
+expansively.  ``My Glory!'' he said.  ``I believe
+I'll take off my coat!  I haven't had my coat off,
+outside of my own room, all summer.  I believe
+I'll take a vacation!  By George, I believe I'll
+stay home this afternoon!''
+
+``That's nice,'' said Mrs. Parcher.
+
+``Hah!'' he said.  ``My Glory!  I believe I'll
+take off my shoes!''
+
+And, meeting no objection, he proceeded to
+carry out this plan.
+
+``Hah-AH!'' he said, and placed his stockinged
+feet upon the railing, where a number of vines,
+running upon strings, made a screen between
+the porch and the street.  He lit a large cigar. 
+``Well, well!'' he said.  ``That tastes good! 
+If this keeps on, I'll be in as good shape as I
+was last spring before you know it!''  Leaning
+far back in the rocking-chair, his hands
+behind his head, he smoked with fervor; but
+suddenly he jumped in a way which showed that his
+nerves were far from normal.  His feet came to
+the floor with a thump, he jerked the cigar out of
+his mouth, and turned a face of consternation
+upon his wife.
+
+``What's the matter?''
+
+``Suppose,'' said Mr. Patcher, huskily--
+``suppose she missed her train.''
+
+Mrs. Parcher shook her head.
+
+``Think not?'' he said, brightening.  ``I ordered 
+the livery-stable to have a carriage here in
+lots of time.''
+
+``They did,'' said Mrs. Parcher, severely. 
+``About five dollars' worth.''
+
+``Well, I don't mind that,'' he returned,
+putting his feet up again.  ``After all, she was a
+mighty fine little girl in her way.  The only
+trouble with me was that crowd of boys;--having
+to listen to them certainly liked to killed me, and
+I believe if she'd stayed just one more day I'd
+been a goner!  Of all the dam boys I ever--''
+He paused, listening.
+
+``Mr. Parcher!'' a youthful voice repeated.
+
+He rose, and, separating two of the vines which
+screened the end of the porch from the street,
+looked out.  Two small maidens had paused upon
+the sidewalk, and were peering over the
+picket fence.
+
+``Mr. Parcher,'' said Jane, as soon as his head
+appeared between the vines--``Mr. Parcher, Miss
+Pratt's gone.  She's gone away on the cars.''
+
+``You think so?'' he asked, gravely.
+
+``We saw her,'' said Jane.  ``Rannie an' I
+were there.  Willie was goin' to chase us, I guess,
+but we went in the baggage-room behind trunks,
+an' we saw her go.  She got on the cars, an' it
+went with her in it.  Honest, she's gone away,
+Mr. Parcher.''
+
+Before speaking, Mr. Parcher took a long look
+at this telepathic child.  In his fond eyes she was
+a marvel and a darling.
+
+``Well--THANK you, Jane!'' he said.
+
+Jane, however, had turned her head and was
+staring at the corner, which was out of his sight.
+
+``Oo-oo-ooh!'' she murmured.
+
+``What's the trouble, Jane?''
+
+``Willie!'' she said.  ``It's Willie an' that Joe
+Bullitt, an' Johnnie Watson, an' Mr. Wallace
+Banks.  They're with Miss May Parcher.  They're
+comin' right here!''
+
+Mr. Parcher gave forth a low moan, and turned
+pathetically to his wife, but she cheered him
+with a laugh.
+
+``They've only walked up from the station
+with May,'' she said.  ``They won't come in. 
+You'll see!''
+
+Relieved, Mr. Parcher turned again to speak
+to Jane--but she was not there.  He caught
+but a glimpse of her, running up the street as
+fast as she could, hand in hand with her companion.
+
+``Run, Rannie, run!'' panted Jane.  ``I got
+to get home an' tell mamma about it before
+Willie.  I bet I ketch Hail Columbia, anyway,
+when he does get there!''
+
+And in this she was not mistaken: she caught
+Hail Columbia.  It lasted all afternoon.
+
+It was still continuing after dinner.  Thatt 
+evening, when an oft-repeated yodel, followed by
+a shrill-wailed, ``Jane-ee!  Oh, Jane-NEE-ee!''
+brought her to an open window down-stairs.  In
+the early dusk she looked out upon the washed face
+of Rannie Kirsted, who stood on the lawn below.
+
+``Come on out, Janie.  Mamma says I can
+stay outdoors an' play till half past eight.''
+
+Jane shook her head.  ``I can't.  I can't go
+outside the house till to-morrow.  It's because
+we walked after Willie with our stummicks out
+o' joint.''
+
+``Pshaw!'' Rannie cried, lightly.  ``My mother
+didn't do anything to me for that.''
+
+``Well, nobody told her on you,'' said Jane,
+reasonably.
+
+``Can't you come out at all?'' Rannie urged. 
+``Go ask your mother.  Tell her--''
+
+``How can I,'' Jane inquired, with a little heat,
+``when she isn't here to ask?  She's gone out to
+play cards--she and papa.''
+
+Rannie swung her foot.  ``Well,'' she said,
+``I guess I haf to find SOMEp'n to do!  G' night!''
+
+With head bowed in thought she moved away,
+disappearing into the gray dusk, while Jane, on
+her part, left the window and went to the open
+front door.  Conscientiously, she did not cross
+the threshold, but restrained herself to looking
+out.  On the steps of the porch sat William,
+alone, his back toward the house.
+
+``Willie?'' said Jane, softly; and, as he made
+no response, she lifted her voice a little. 
+``Will-ee!''
+
+``Whatchwant!'' he grunted, not moving.
+
+``Willie, I told mamma I was sorry I made you
+feel so bad.''
+
+``All right!'' he returned, curtly.
+
+``Well, when I haf to go to bed, Willie,'' she
+said, ``mamma told me because I made you feel
+bad I haf to go up-stairs by myself, to-night.''
+
+She paused, seeming to hope that he would
+say something, but he spake not.
+
+``Willie, I don't haf to go for a while yet, but
+when I do--maybe in about a half an hour--I
+wish you'd come stand at the foot of the stairs
+till I get up there.  The light's lit up-stairs,
+but down around here it's kind of dark.''
+
+He did not answer.
+
+``Will you, Willie?''
+
+``Oh, all RIGHT!'' he said.
+
+This contented her, and she seated herself so
+quietly upon the floor, just inside the door, that
+he ceased to be aware of her, thinking she had
+gone away.  He sat staring vacantly into the
+darkness, which had come on with that abruptness
+which begins to be noticeable in September. 
+His elbows were on his knees, and his body was
+sunk far forward in an attitude of desolation.
+
+The small noises of the town--that town so
+empty to-night--fell upon his ears mockingly. 
+It seemed to him incredible that so hollow a town
+could go about its nightly affairs just as usual. 
+A man and a woman, going by, laughed loudly at
+something the man had said: the sound of their
+laughter was horrid to William.  And from a
+great distance from far out in the country--
+there came the faint, long-drawn whistle of an
+engine.
+
+That was the sorrowfulest sound of all to
+William.  His lonely mind's eye sought the
+vasty spaces to the east; crossed prairie, and
+river, and hill, to where a long train whizzed
+onward through the dark--farther and farther
+and farther away.  William uttered a sigh, so
+hoarse, so deep from the tombs, so prolonged,
+that Jane, who had been relaxing herself at full
+length upon the floor, sat up straight with a jerk.
+
+But she was wise enough not to speak.
+
+Now the full moon came masquerading among
+the branches of the shade-trees; it came in the
+likeness of an enormous football, gloriously
+orange.  Gorgeously it rose higher, cleared the
+trees, and resumed its wonted impersonation of
+a silver disk.  Here was another mockery:  What
+was the use of a moon NOW?
+
+Its use appeared straightway.
+
+In direct coincidence with that rising moon,
+there came from a little distance down the
+street the sound of a young male voice, singing. 
+It was not a musical voice, yet sufficiently loud;
+and it knew only a portion of the words and air it
+sought to render, but, upon completing the portion
+it did know, it instantly began again, and
+sang that portion over and over with brightest
+patience.  So the voice approached the residence
+of the Baxter family, singing what the shades of
+night gave courage to sing--instead of whistle,
+as in the abashing sunlight.
+
+Thus:
+
+``My countree, 'tis of thee,
+Sweet land of liber-tee,
+My countree, 'tis of thee,
+Sweet land of liber-tee,
+My countree, 'tis of thee,
+Sweet land of liber-tee,
+My countree, 'tis of thee,
+Sweet land of liber-tee,
+My countree, 'tis--''
+
+
+Jane spoke unconsciously.  ``It's Freddie,'' she
+said.
+
+William leaped to his feet; this was something
+he could NOT bear!  He made a bloodthirsty dash
+toward the gate, which the singer was just in the
+act of passing.
+
+``You GET OUT O' HERE!'' William roared.
+
+The song stopped.  Freddie Banks fled like a
+rag on the wind.
+
+
+. . . Now here is a strange matter.
+
+The antique prophets prophesied successfully;
+they practised with some ease that art since lost
+but partly rediscovered by M. Maeterlinck, who
+proves to us that the future already exists,
+simultaneously with the present.  Well, if his
+proofs be true, then at this very moment when
+William thought menacingly of Freddie Banks,
+the bright air of a happy June evening--an
+evening ordinarily reckoned ten years, nine months
+and twenty-one days in advance of this present
+sorrowful evening--the bright air of that happy
+June evening, so far in the future, was actually
+already trembling to a wedding-march played
+upon a church organ; and this selfsame Freddie,
+with a white flower in his buttonhole, and in
+every detail accoutred as a wedding usher, was
+an usher for this very William who now (as we
+ordinarily count time) threatened his person.
+
+But for more miracles:
+
+As William turned again to resume his meditations
+upon the steps, his incredulous eyes fell upon
+a performance amazingly beyond fantasy, and
+without parallel as a means to make scorn of
+him.  Not ten feet from the porch--and in the
+white moonlight that made brilliant the path to
+the gate--Miss Mary Randolph Kirsted was
+walking.  She was walking with insulting pomposity
+in her most pronounced semicircular manner.
+
+``YOU GET OUT O' HERE!'' she said, in a voice as
+deep and hoarse as she could make it.  ``YOU
+GET OUT O' HERE!''
+
+Her intention was as plain as the moon.  She
+was presenting in her own person a sketch of
+William, by this means expressing her opinion
+of him and avenging Jane.
+
+``YOU GET OUT O' HERE!'' she croaked.
+
+The shocking audacity took William's breath. 
+He gasped; he sought for words.
+
+``Why, you--you--'' he cried.  ``You--you
+sooty-faced little girl!''
+
+In this fashion he directly addressed Miss
+Mary Randolph Kirsted for the first time in his
+life.
+
+And that was the strangest thing of this strange
+evening.  Strangest because, as with life itself,
+there was nothing remarkable upon the surface
+of it.  But if M. Maeterlinck has the right
+of the matter, and if the bright air of that June
+evening, almost eleven years in the so-called
+future, was indeed already trembling to ``Lohengrin,''
+then William stood with Johnnie Watson
+against a great bank of flowers at the foot of a
+church aisle; that aisle was roped with white-
+satin ribbons; and William and Johnnie were
+waiting for something important to happen. 
+And then, to the strains of ``Here Comes the
+Bride,'' it did--a stately, solemn, roseate, gentle
+young thing with bright eyes seeking through a
+veil for William's eyes.
+
+Yes, if great M. Maeterlinck is right, it seems
+that William ought to have caught at least some
+eerie echo of that wedding-march, however faint
+--some bars or strains adrift before their time
+upon the moonlight of this September night in
+his eighteenth year.
+
+For there, beyond the possibility of any fate to
+intervene, or of any later vague, fragmentary
+memory of even Miss Pratt to impair, there in
+that moonlight was his future before him.
+
+He started forward furiously.  ``You--you--
+you little--''
+
+But he paused, not wasting his breath upon the
+empty air.
+
+His bride-to-be was gone.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of Seventeen, by Booth Tarkington
+
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