“I hope they’re decent girls. Course Ted’s no longer a kid, and I
wouldn’t want him to, uh, get mixed up and everything.”
“George: I wonder if you oughtn’t to take him aside and tell him
about-- Things!” She blushed and lowered her eyes.
“Well, I don’t know. Way I figure it, Myra, no sense suggesting a lot of
Things to a boy’s mind. Think up enough devilment by himself. But I
wonder-- It’s kind of a hard question. Wonder what Littlefield thinks
about it?”
“Course Papa agrees with you. He says all this--Instruction--is-- He says
’tisn’t decent.”
“Oh, he does, does he! Well, let me tell you that whatever Henry T.
Thompson thinks--about morals, I mean, though course you can’t beat the
old duffer--”
“Why, what a way to talk of Papa!”
“--simply can’t beat him at getting in on the ground floor of a deal,
but let me tell you whenever he springs any ideas about higher things
and education, then I know I think just the opposite. You may not regard
me as any great brain-shark, but believe me, I’m a regular college
president, compared with Henry T.! Yes sir, by golly, I’m going to take
Ted aside and tell him why I lead a strictly moral life.”
“Oh, will you? When?”
“When? When? What’s the use of trying to pin me down to When and Why and
Where and How and When? That’s the trouble with women, that’s why they
don’t make high-class executives; they haven’t any sense of diplomacy.
When the proper opportunity and occasion arises so it just comes in
natural, why then I’ll have a friendly little talk with him
and--and-- Was that Tinka hollering up-stairs? She ought to been asleep,
long ago.”
He prowled through the living-room, and stood in the sun-parlor, that
glass-walled room of wicker chairs and swinging couch in which they
loafed on Sunday afternoons. Outside, only the lights of Doppelbrau’s
house and the dim presence of Babbitt’s favorite elm broke the softness
of April night.
“Good visit with the boy. Getting over feeling cranky, way I did this
morning. And restless. Though, by golly, I will have a few days alone
with Paul in Maine!... That devil Zilla!... But.... Ted’s all right.
Whole family all right. And good business. Not many fellows make four
hundred and fifty bucks, practically half of a thousand dollars, easy as
I did to-day! Maybe when we all get to rowing it’s just as much my
fault as it is theirs. Oughtn’t to get grouchy like I do. But-- Wish I’d
been a pioneer, same as my grand-dad. But then, wouldn’t have a house
like this. I-- Oh, gosh, _I don’t know_!”
He thought moodily of Paul Riesling, of their youth together, of the
girls they had known.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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