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.