Seventeen: A Tale of Youth and Summer Time and the Baxter Family, Especially WilliamTarkington, Booth
General
Seventeen: A Tale of Youth and Summer Time and the Baxter Family, Especially William
Tarkington, Booth
Families -- Fiction; First loves -- Fiction; Teenage boys -- Fiction
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.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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