Dear would force one of those Dying-Martyr Smiles and reply, "I am quite
well, Puss."
Then Puss would tell the Visitor that Baby was simply ruining his Health
through Devotion to his Employers, but they didn't seem to Appreciate
him at all.
After the Visitor went away there would be Language all over the Shop,
and the poor Hired Girl would lock the Door and write to the
Intelligence Office for a new Place.
Truly, it was a Happy Little Home, with the Reverse English.
She would Frisk his Wardrobe every day or two, looking for Evidence, and
he would compel her to Itemize her Accounts so that he might be sure she
was not giving Jewelry to the Iceman.
She would find a certain Passage in a Book, relating to Man's Cruelty
and Woman's Silent Suffering, and then she would Mark the Passage and
put it where he could Find it. Then when he Found it, he would Mark it
"Rot!" and put it where She could find it, and then she would Weep and
write Letters to Lady Authors telling them how Sad and Lonely she was.
But all the Time they kept up an Affectionate Front before their
Acquaintances. They thought it better to avoid Scenes in Public; and
although each knew that the other was False and had ceased to Love, they
could not bring themselves to think of a Separation or a Divorce on
account of the Cat--their Cat! The Cat must never know.
However, one of his Business Associates was On. He was a Bachelor and
had lived at a European Hotel for Years, and he knew just how to
Arbitrate a Domestic Scrap. So he sat down one day and gave the Husband
a Good Talking-To. He said it was a Shame that such Nice People should
have their Differences when it was so easy to be Happy. With that he
handed over a Slew of Platitudes and Proverbs, such as: "A Soft Answer
Turneth Away Wrath," "It takes Two to Make a Quarrel," "Think Twice
before you Speak once," _et cetera._
[Illustration: SWEETIE]
The Gist of his heart-to-heart Talk was that any Husband could stop
Rough House Proceedings and shoot all kinds of Sweetness and Light into
the sassiest Mooch a Wife ever got on to herself, if only he would
refuse to Quarrel with her, receive her Flings without a Show of Wrath,
and get up every Morning ready to Plug for a Renaissance of their Early
Love.
Oh, but it was a Beauty Bright System! The European Hotel Bachelor said
it couldn't Lose.
The Husband decided to give it a Trial. That very Afternoon he met his
Wife, who had come out in her long Fawn-Colored Coat that fell straight
in the Back. She had her Upper Rigging set, and was trying to Blanket
everything on the Street. He flashed a Smiling Countenance, and said he
was glad to see her. Then, instead of asking her When she left the
House, and Where she had been since then, and How Soon she expected to
go Home again, he told her she was looking Unusually Charming. She was
Startled.
[Illustration: THE CAT]
He handed her a Ten and told her to have a Good Time. Now, usually, when
she wanted any Pin Money, she had to Pry it out of him.
On her way home her Mind was in a Tumult. Why had he given her the Con
Speech and all that Money? What was the Ulterior Motive? What had he
been Doing that he should attempt to Coddle her into a Forgiving Mood?
Did he Fear that she would get next to his Past? Huh?
He just couldn't Fool her. She knew Something was Doing. Else why should
he try to Fix her?
As soon as he came Home that Evening she Accused him and said she knew
All. Instead of Countering with the usual Gibe, he told her that she was
the Only Woman he had ever Loved and would she go to a Show that
Evening? She went, thinking that perhaps the Other Woman might be there
and she could detect some Signal passing between them. While at the
Theater he fanned her and explained the Plot, and was all Attention.
They rode Home in a Cab, because he said a Car wasn't good enough for
His Queen. After they were at Home he asked her to sing the Song he had
liked so much in the Old Days, "My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean." This was
Conclusive Proof to her that the Hussy's Name was Bonnie.
Next Morning before he started away he Kissed her, and it wasn't any
Make-Believe such as you see in Comic Opera. It was a genuine Olga
Nethersole Buss, full of Linger and Adhesion. To cap the Climax he said
he would stop in and order some Violets.
As soon as the Door slammed she Staggered toward the Kitchen, holding on
to the Furniture here and there, the same as a Sardou Heroine. In the
Kitchen was a Box of Rough on Rats. Hastily Concealing it beneath the
loose Folds of her Morning Gown, she went to her Room and looked in the
Mirror.
Ah, when he saw that Cold, White Face, then he would be Sorry. Upon
Second Thought, this didn't seem to be a Moral Certainty, so she
Weakened and had the Girl take the Poison and Hide it. She said she
would Live--Live to Forget his Perfidy.
That day she went back to Mamma, and took the Cat with her.
When he came Home in the Twilight he found no Wife, no Cat--only a
Scribbled Note saying that he could no longer Deceive her; that she had
seen through his Diabolical Plan to Lull her Suspicions, and that she
was no longer Safe in the Same House.
When the Deserted Husband went to the Friend and told him what had
Happened, the Wise Bachelor said:
"I see. You did not go at her Strong enough."
MORAL: _They don't know Anything about it_.
_THE_ FABLE _OF THE_ EX-CHATTEL _AND THE_ AWFUL SWAT _THAT_ WAS WAITING
_FOR THE COLONEL_
In one of the States of the Sunny South there stood a war-time House
that had six white Columns along the Veranda, and the Chimney ran up the
outside of the Wall.
This House was the Abode of a Colonel who had a silver-gray Goatee and
the Manners of the Old School. All the First Families in the State were
related to him, and therefore he was somewhat Particular as to who Lined
Up with him when he took his Toddy.
He was proud of his Ancestry, and he carried the Scars to prove that he
would Resent an Insult.
Now it happened that the Thirteenth Amendment signified nothing to him.
He had been Reconstructed, but it didn't Take.
While on a Business Trip to the North he stopped at a Gaudy Hotel with
all kinds of Mirrors and Onyx Stairways.
The Head Waiter at this Hotel was a Colored Gentleman with a False Front
and a Dress Suit that fit him too soon. His Name was Mr. Winfield. He
was President of the Colored Waiters' Union, Vice-President of the
Republican County Central Committee, and Regal Commander of the Princes
of Ethiopia.
His Honors lay Heavily upon him. He showed People where to sit in the
Dining Room, and those who failed to Obey usually had to wait fifteen or
twenty Minutes for their Vermicelli.
[Illustration: THE COLONEL]
Mr. Winfield favored his Feet somewhat, which caused him to walk
Syncopated, but, everything considered, he was quite Important and
fairly Warm.
One morning the Colonel went into the Dining Room, and after he had
seated himself he called Mr. Winfield to him and said he wanted some Hot
Biscuit. At the same time he addressed Mr. Winfield as a Black Hound.
Mr. Winfield did not know that this was a Term of Endearment in
Apahatchie County, so he picked up a Silver Fruit Dish and bounced it
against the Colonel's Head.
The Colonel arose and pulled his Persuader, expecting to make it a Case
of Justifiable Homicide, but two Waiters named George and Grant grabbed
him and backed him up against the Wall.
There were other guests in the Dining Room, but they did not jump in
with any Gun Plays and make it a Race War, because Apahatchie County was
Eight Hundred Miles away. One of them Co-Operated to the extent of
Ringing three times for a Policeman.
The Officer of the Law who arrived in a few Minutes was Mr. Otis
Beasley, Most Worshipful Scribe of the Princes of Ethiopia, of which Mr.
Winfield was the Regal Commander.
Mr. Beasley walked up to Mr. Winfield, and placing his Left Hand on his
Brow, said, "Hail, Brother."
"Hail, Most Noble Prince!" responded Mr. Winfield, making the Mystic
Sign.
"What are the Objects of our Beloved Fraternity?" asked Mr. Beasley, in
a whisper.
"Hope, Coslosterousness, and Polotomy," replied the Regal Commander.
"'Tis Well," said the Most Worshipful Scribe, giving him the Grip.
Having completed the Secret work, Mr. Beasley wanted to know what he
could do for Brother Winfield.
"Remove this Pusson," said Mr. Winfield, pointing at the Colonel.
So it came about that He who in Apahatchie County had trained them to
hop off the Sidewalk and stand Uncovered until he had passed, now
suffered the Hideous Degradation of being marched downstairs by One of
Them and then slammed into the Hurry-Up Wagon. Under which Circumstances
the Colonel had the Rabies.
[Illustration: MR. WINFIELD]
At the Police Station he was dragged before a Magistrate and was charged
with Disorderly Conduct, Carrying Concealed Weapons, Assault and
Battery, Assault with Intent to Kill, and Resisting an Officer.
The Magistrate was a White Man, and to him the Colonel appealed for
Justice, claiming Brotherhood as a Caucasian. He told what would have
happened in Apahatchie if any Coon had dared to lay a finger on a
Colonel.
Here was an opening for the Court. It must be known that the Court lived
in a Ward that was Dark in one End, and he was out for the Colored Vote
in case he ran for Judge. This was his Chance to make a Grand-Stand
Play.
He handed down a Decision to the Effect that all Men are Free and Equal,
with incidental References to the Emancipation Proclamation and Striking
the Shackles from Four Millions of Human Beings. He Ratified the
Constitution and Permitted the Negro to stand in the Free Sunlight. In
Apahatchie County he would have been used for Target Practice, but
Apahatchie County was still Eight Hundred Miles away.
In Conclusion he Soaked the Colonel for $32.75 in Fines and Costs,
Confiscating the Weapon, which he afterward presented to Officer Otis
Beasley as a Slight Token of Esteem.
Next Morning, as a south-bound Passenger Train was crossing the Ohio
River, the Colored Porter on the Atlanta Sleeper jumped eighty feet from
the Trestle into the Water in order to Escape with his Life.
MORAL: _A Head Waiter must be Ruled by Kindness_.
_THE_ FABLE _OF THE_ CORPORATION DIRECTOR _AND THE_ MISLAID AMBITION
One of the Most Promising Boys in a Graded School had a Burning Ambition
to be a Congressman. He loved Politics and Oratory. When there was a
Rally in Town he would carry a Torch and listen to the Spellbinder with
his Mouth open.
The Boy wanted to grow up and wear a Black String Tie and a Bill Cody
Hat and walk stiff-legged, with his Vest unbuttoned at the Top, and be
Distinguished.
On Friday Afternoons he would go to School with his Face scrubbed to a
shiny pink and his Hair roached up on one side, and he would Recite the
Speeches of Patrick Henry and Daniel Webster and make Gestures.
When he Graduated from the High School he delivered an Oration on "The
Duty of the Hour," calling on all young Patriots to leap into the Arena
and with the Shield of Virtue quench the rising Flood of Corruption. He
said that the Curse of Our Times was the Greed for Wealth, and he
pleaded for Unselfish Patriotism among those in High Places.
He boarded at Home for a while without seeing a chance to jump into the
Arena, and finally his Father worked a Pull and got him a Job with a
Steel Company. He proved to be a Handy Young Man, and the Manager sent
Him out to make Contracts. He stopped roaching his Hair, and he didn't
give the Arena of Politics any serious Consideration except when the
Tariff on Steel was in Danger.
[Illustration: AMBITIOUS YOUTH]
In a little while he owned a few Shares, and after that he became a
Director. He joined several Clubs and began to enjoy his Food. He drank
a Small Bottle with his Luncheon each Day, and he couldn't talk Business
unless he held a Scotch High Ball in his Right Hand.
With the return of Prosperity and the Formation of the Trust and the
Whoop in all Stocks he made so much Money that he was afraid to tell the
Amount.
His Girth increased--he became puffy under the Eyes--you could see the
little blue Veins on his Nose.
He kept his Name out of the Papers as much as possible, and he never
gave Congress a Thought except when he talked to his Lawyer of the
Probable Manner in which they would Evade any Legislation against
Trusts. He took two Turkish Baths every week and wore Silk Underwear.
When an Eminent Politician would come to his Office to shake him down he
would send out Word by the Boy in Buttons that he had gone to Europe.
That's what he thought of Politics.
One day while rummaging in a lower Drawer in his Library, looking for a
Box of Poker Chips, he came upon a Roll of Manuscript and wondered what
it was. He opened it and read how it was the Duty of all True Americans
to hop into the Arena and struggle unselfishly for the General Good. It
came to him in a Flash--this was his High School Oration!
Then suddenly he remembered that for several Years of his Life his
consuming Ambition had been--to go to Congress!
With a demoniacal Shriek he threw himself at full length on a Leather
Couch and began to Laugh.
He rolled off the Sofa and tossed about on a $1,200 Rug in a Paroxysm of
Merriment.
His Man came running into the Library and saw the Master in Convulsions.
The poor Trust Magnate was purple in the Face.
They sent for a Great Specialist, who said that his Dear Friend had
ruptured one of the smaller Arteries, and also narrowly escaped Death by
Apoplexy.
[Illustration: THE MAGNATE]
He advised Rest and Quiet and the avoidance of any Great Shock.
So they took the High School Oration and put it on the Ice, and the
Magnate slowly recovered and returned to his nine-course Dinners.
MORAL: _Of all Sad Words of Tongue or Pen, the Saddest are these, "It
Might Have Been."_
_THE_ FABLE _OF_ WHAT HAPPENED _THE_ NIGHT THE MEN CAME _TO THE_ WOMEN'S
CLUB
In a Progressive Little City claiming about twice the Population that
the Census Enumerators could uncover, there was a Literary Club. It was
one of these Clubs guaranteed to fix you out with Culture while you
wait. Two or three Matrons, who were too Heavy for Light Amusements, but
not old enough to remain at Home and Knit, organized the Club. Nearly
every Woman in town rushed to get in, for fear somebody would say she
hadn't been Asked.
The Club used to Round Up once a week at the Homes of Members. There
would be a Paper, followed by a Discussion, after which somebody would
Pour.
The Organization seemed to be a Winner. One Thing the Lady Clubbers were
Dead Set On. They were going to have Harmony with an Upper Case H. They
were out to cut a seven-foot Swath through English Literature from
Beowulf to Bangs, inclusive, and no petty Jealousies or Bickerings would
stand in the Way.
So while they were at the Club they would pull Kittenish Smiles at each
other, and Applaud so as not to split the Gloves. Some times they would
Kiss, too, but they always kept their Fingers crossed.
Of course, when they got off in Twos and Threes they would pull the
little Meat-Axes out of the Reticules and hack a few Monograms, but that
was to have been expected.
[Illustration: WYCLIF]
Everything considered, the Club was a Tremendous Go. At each Session the
Lady President would announce the Subject for the next Meeting. For
instance, she would say that Next Week they would take up Wyclif. Then
every one would romp home to look in the Encyclopedia of Authors and
find out who in the world Wyclif was. On the following Thursday they
would have Wyclif down Pat, and be primed for a Discussion. They would
talk about Wyclif as if he had been down to the House for Tea every
evening that Week.
After the Club had been running for Six Months it was beginning to be
Strong on Quotations and Dates. The Members knew that Mrs. Browning was
the wife of Mr. Browning, that Milton had Trouble with his Eyes, and
that Lord Byron wasn't all that he should have been, to say the Least.
They began to feel their Intellectual Oats. In the meantime the
Jeweler's Wife had designed a Club Badge.
The Club was doing such Notable Work that some of the Members thought
they ought to have a Special Meeting and invite the Men. They wanted to
put the Cap-Sheaf on a Profitable Season, and at the same time hand the
Merited Rebuke to some of the Husbands and Brothers who had been making
Funny Cracks.
It was decided to give the Star Programme at the Beadle Home, and after
the Papers had been read then all the Men and Five Women who did not
hold Office could file through the Front Room and shake Hands with the
President, the Vice-President, the Recording Secretary, the
Corresponding Secretary, the Treasurer, and the members of the various
Committees, all of whom were to line up and Receive.
The reason the Club decided to have the Brain Barbecue at the Beadle
Home was that the Beadles had such beautiful big Rooms and Double Doors.
There was more or less quiet Harpoon Work when the Announcement was
made. Several of the Elderly Ones said that Josephine Beadle was not a
Representative Member of the Club. She was Fair to look upon, but she
was not pulling very hard for the Uplifting of the Sex. It was suspected
that she came to the Meetings just to Kill Time and see what the Others
were Wearing. She refused to buckle down to Literary Work, for she was a
good deal more interested in the Bachelors who filled the Windows of the
new Men's Club than she was in the Butler who wrote "Hudibras." So why
should she have the Honor of entertaining the Club at the Annual
Meeting? Unfortunately, the Members who had the most Doing under their
Bonnets were not the ones who could come to the Front with large Rooms
that could be Thrown together, so the Beadle Home got the Great Event.
[Illustration: THE MEN]
Every one in Town who carried a Pound of Social Influence showed up in
his or her Other Clothes. Extra Chairs had to be brought in, and what
with the Smilax and Club Colors it was very Swell, and the Maiden in the
Lace Mitts who was going to write about it for the Weekly threw a couple
of Spasms.
The Men were led in pulling at the Halters and with their Ears laid
back. After they got into the Dressing Room they Stuck there until they
had to be Shooed out. They did not know what they were going against,
but they had their Suspicions. They managed to get Rear Seats or stand
along the Wall so that they could execute the Quiet Sneak if Things got
too Literary. The Women were too Flushed and Proud to Notice.
At 8:30 P.M. the Lady President stood out and began to read a few Pink
Thoughts on "Woman's Destiny--Why Not?" Along toward 9:15, about the
time the Lady President was beginning to show up Good and Earnest,
Josephine Beadle, who was Circulating around on the Outskirts of the
Throng to make sure that everybody was Happy, made a Discovery. She
noticed that the Men standing along the Wall and in the Doorways were
not more than sixty per cent En Rapport with the Long Piece about
Woman's Destiny. Now Josephine was right there to see that Everybody had
a Nice Time, and she did not like to see the Prominent Business Men of
the Town dying of Thirst or Leg Cramp or anything like that, so she gave
two or three of them the Quiet Wink, and they tiptoed after her out to
the Dining Room, where she offered Refreshments, and said they could
slip out on the Side Porch and Smoke if they wanted to.
[Illustration: LADY PRESIDENT]
Probably they preferred to go back in the Front Room and hear some more
about Woman's Destiny not.
As soon as they could master their Emotions and get control of their
Voices, they told Josephine what they thought of her. They said she made
the Good Samaritan look like a Cheap Criminal, and if she would only say
the Word they would begin to put Ground Glass into the Food at Home.
Then Josephine called them "Boys," which probably does not make a Hit
with one who is on the sloping side of 48. More of the Men seemed to
awake to the Fact that they were Overlooking something, so they came on
the Velvet Foot back to the Dining Room and declared themselves In, and
flocked around Josephine and called her "Josie" and "Joe." They didn't
care. They were having a Pleasant Visit.
Josephine gave them Allopathic Slugs of the Size that they feed you in
the Navy and then lower you into the Dingey and send you Ashore. Then
she let them go out on the Porch to smoke. By the time the Lady
President came to the last Page there were only two Men left in the
Front Room. One was Asleep and the other was Penned In.
The Women were Huffy. They went out to make the Men come in, and found
them Bunched on the Porch listening to a Story that a Traveling Man had
just brought to Town that Day.
Now the Plan was that during the Reception the Company would stand about
in little Groups, and ask each other what Books they liked, and make it
something on the order of a Salon. This Plan miscarried, because all the
Men wanted to hear Rag Time played by Josephine, the Life-Saver.
Josephine had to yield, and the Men all clustered around her to give
their Moral Support. After one or two Selections, they felt sufficiently
Keyed to begin to hit up those low-down Songs about Baby and Chickens
and Razors. No one paid any Attention to the Lady President, who was off
in a Corner holding an Indignation Meeting with the Secretary and the
Vice-President.
When the Women began to sort out the Men and order them to start Home
and all the Officers of the Club were giving Josephine the frosty Good
Night, any one could see that there was Trouble ahead.
Next Day the Club held a Special Session and expelled Josephine for
Conduct Unbecoming a Member, and Josephine sent Word to them as follows:
"Rats."
Then the Men quietly got together and bought Josephine about a Thousand
Dollars' Worth of American Beauty Roses to show that they were With her,
and then Homes began to break up, and somebody started the Report that
anyway it was the Lady President's Fault for having such a long and
pokey Essay that wasn't hers at all, but had been Copied out of a Club
Paper published in Detroit.
Before the next Meeting there were two Factions. The Lady President had
gone to a Rest Cure, and the Meeting resolved itself into a Good Cry and
a general Smash-Up.