chapter xxix ithe assurance of tanis judique's friendship fortified babbitt's self-approval.at the athletic club he became experimental. though vergil gunch was silent, the othersat the roughnecks' table came to accept babbitt as having, for no visible reason,"turned crank." they argued windily with him, and he wascocky, and enjoyed the spectacle of his interesting martyrdom.he even praised seneca doane. professor pumphrey said that was carrying ajoke too far; but babbitt argued, "no!
fact!i tell you he's got one of the keenest intellects in the country. why, lord wycombe said that--""oh, who the hell is lord wycombe? what you always lugging him in for?you been touting him for the last six weeks!" protested orville jones. "george ordered him from sears-roebuck.you can get those english high-muckamucks by mail for two bucks apiece," suggestedsidney finkelstein. "that's all right now! lord wycombe, he's one of the biggestintellects in english political life.
as i was saying: of course i'm conservativemyself, but i appreciate a guy like senny doane because--" vergil gunch interrupted harshly, "i wonderif you are so conservative? i find i can manage to run my own businesswithout any skunks and reds like doane in it!" the grimness of gunch's voice, the hardnessof his jaw, disconcerted babbitt, but he recovered and went on till they lookedbored, then irritated, then as doubtful as gunch. iihe thought of tanis always.
with a stir he remembered her every aspect.his arms yearned for her. "i've found her! i've dreamed of her all these years and nowi've found her!" he exulted. he met her at the movies in the morning; hedrove out to her flat in the late afternoon or on evenings when he was believed to beat the elks. he knew her financial affairs and advisedher about them, while she lamented her feminine ignorance, and praised hismasterfulness, and proved to know much more about bonds than he did. they had remembrances, and laughter overold times.
once they quarreled, and he raged that shewas as "bossy" as his wife and far more whining when he was inattentive. but that passed safely.their high hour was a tramp on a ringing december afternoon, through snow-driftedmeadows down to the icy chaloosa river. she was exotic in an astrachan cap and ashort beaver coat; she slid on the ice and shouted, and he panted after her, rotundwith laughter.... myra babbitt never slid on the ice. he was afraid that they would be seentogether. in zenith it is impossible to lunch with aneighbor's wife without the fact being
known, before nightfall, in every house inyour circle. but tanis was beautifully discreet. however appealingly she might turn to himwhen they were alone, she was gravely detached when they were abroad, and hehoped that she would be taken for a client. orville jones once saw them emerging from amovie theater, and babbitt bumbled, "let me make you 'quainted with mrs. judique.now here's a lady who knows the right broker to come to, orvy!" mr. jones, though he was a man censoriousof morals and of laundry machinery, seemed satisfied.
his predominant fear--not from any especialfondness for her but from the habit of propriety--was that his wife would learn ofthe affair. he was certain that she knew nothingspecific about tanis, but he was also certain that she suspected somethingindefinite. for years she had been bored by anythingmore affectionate than a farewell kiss, yet she was hurt by any slackening in hisirritable periodic interest, and now he had no interest; rather, a revulsion. he was completely faithful--to tanis. he was distressed by the sight of hiswife's slack plumpness, by her puffs and
billows of flesh, by the tattered petticoatwhich she was always meaning and always forgetting to throw away. but he was aware that she, so long attunedto him, caught all his repulsions. he elaborately, heavily, jocularly tried tocheck them. he couldn't. they had a tolerable christmas.kenneth escott was there, admittedly engaged to verona.mrs. babbitt was tearful and called kenneth her new son. babbitt was worried about ted, because hehad ceased complaining of the state
university and become suspiciouslyacquiescent. he wondered what the boy was planning, andwas too shy to ask. himself, babbitt slipped away on christmasafternoon to take his present, a silver cigarette-box, to tanis. when he returned mrs. babbitt asked, muchtoo innocently, "did you go out for a little fresh air?""yes, just lil drive," he mumbled. after new year's his wife proposed, "iheard from my sister to-day, george. she isn't well.i think perhaps i ought to go stay with her for a few weeks."
now, mrs. babbitt was not accustomed toleave home during the winter except on violently demanding occasions, and only thesummer before, she had been gone for weeks. nor was babbitt one of the detachablehusbands who take separations casually he liked to have her there; she looked afterhis clothes; she knew how his steak ought to be cooked; and her clucking made himfeel secure. but he could not drum up even a dutiful"oh, she doesn't really need you, does she?" while he tried to look regretful, while hefelt that his wife was watching him, he was filled with exultant visions of tanis."do you think i'd better go?" she said
sharply. "you've got to decide, honey; i can't."she turned away, sighing, and his forehead was damp. till she went, four days later, she wascuriously still, he cumbrously affectionate.her train left at noon. as he saw it grow small beyond the train-shed he longed to hurry to tanis. "no, by golly, i won't do that!" he vowed."i won't go near her for a week!" but he was at her flat at four. iii
he who had once controlled or seemed tocontrol his life in a progress unimpassioned but diligent and sane was forthat fortnight borne on a current of desire and very bad whisky and all the complications of new acquaintances, thosefurious new intimates who demand so much more attention than old friends.each morning he gloomily recognized his idiocies of the evening before. with his head throbbing, his tongue andlips stinging from cigarettes, he incredulously counted the number of drinkshe had taken, and groaned, "i got to quit!" he had ceased saying, "i will quit!" forhowever resolute he might be at dawn, he
could not, for a single evening, check hisdrift. he had met tanis's friends; he had, withthe ardent haste of the midnight people, who drink and dance and rattle and are everafraid to be silent, been adopted as a member of her group, which they called "thebunch." he first met them after a day when he hadworked particularly hard and when he hoped to be quiet with tanis and slowly sip heradmiration. from down the hall he could hear shrieksand the grind of a phonograph. as tanis opened the door he saw fantasticfigures dancing in a haze of cigarette smoke.
the tables and chairs were against thewall. "oh, isn't this dandy!" she gabbled at him."carrie nork had the loveliest idea. she decided it was time for a party, andshe 'phoned the bunch and told 'em to gather round....george, this is carrie.""carrie" was, in the less desirable aspects of both, at once matronly and spinsterish. she was perhaps forty; her hair was anunconvincing ash-blond; and if her chest was flat, her hips were ponderous.she greeted babbitt with a giggling "welcome to our little midst! tanis says you're a real sport."he was apparently expected to dance, to be
boyish and gay with carrie, and he did hisunforgiving best. he towed her about the room, bumping intoother couples, into the radiator, into chair-legs cunningly ambushed. as he danced he surveyed the rest of thebunch: a thin young woman who looked capable, conceited, and sarcastic.another woman whom he could never quite remember. three overdressed and slightly effeminateyoung men--soda-fountain clerks, or at least born for that profession.a man of his own age, immovable, self- satisfied, resentful of babbitt's presence.
when he had finished his dutiful dancetanis took him aside and begged, "dear, wouldn't you like to do something for me?i'm all out of booze, and the bunch want to celebrate. couldn't you just skip down to healeyhanson's and get some?" "sure," he said, trying not to soundsullen. "i'll tell you: i'll get minnie sonntag todrive down with you." tanis was pointing to the thin, sarcasticyoung woman. miss sonntag greeted him with an astringent"how d'you do, mr. babbitt. tanis tells me you're a very prominent man,and i'm honored by being allowed to drive
with you. of course i'm not accustomed to associatingwith society people like you, so i don't know how to act in such exalted circles!"thus miss sonntag talked all the way down to healey hanson's. to her jibes he wanted to reply "oh, go tothe devil!" but he never quite nerved himself to that reasonable comment.he was resenting the existence of the whole bunch. he had heard tanis speak of "darlingcarrie" and "min sonntag--she's so clever-- you'll adore her," but they had never beenreal to him.
he had pictured tanis as living in a rose-tinted vacuum, waiting for him, free of all the complications of a floral heights.when they returned he had to endure the patronage of the young soda-clerks. they were as damply friendly as misssonntag was dryly hostile. they called him "old georgie" and shouted,"come on now, sport; shake a leg"...boys in belted coats, pimply boys, as young as tedand as flabby as chorus-men, but powerful to dance and to mind the phonograph andsmoke cigarettes and patronize tanis. he tried to be one of them; he cried "goodwork, pete!" but his voice creaked. tanis apparently enjoyed the companionshipof the dancing darlings; she bridled to
their bland flirtation and casually kissedthem at the end of each dance. babbitt hated her, for the moment. he saw her as middle-aged.he studied the wrinkles in the softness of her throat, the slack flesh beneath herchin. the taut muscles of her youth were looseand drooping. between dances she sat in the largestchair, waving her cigarette, summoning her callow admirers to come and talk to her. ("she thinks she's a blooming queen!"growled babbitt.) she chanted to miss sonntag, "isn't mylittle studio sweet?"
("studio, rats! it's a plain old-maid-and-chow-dog flat!oh, god, i wish i was home! i wonder if i can't make a getaway now?") his vision grew blurred, however, as heapplied himself to healey hanson's raw but vigorous whisky.he blended with the bunch. he began to rejoice that carrie nork andpete, the most nearly intelligent of the nimble youths, seemed to like him; and itwas enormously important to win over the surly older man, who proved to be a railwayclerk named fulton bemis. the conversation of the bunch wasexclamatory, high-colored, full of
references to people whom babbitt did notknow. apparently they thought very comfortably ofthemselves. they were the bunch, wise and beautiful andamusing; they were bohemians and urbanites, accustomed to all the luxuries of zenith:dance-halls, movie-theaters, and roadhouses; and in a cynical superiority to people who were "slow" or "tightwad" theycackled: "oh, pete, did i tell you what that dub ofa cashier said when i came in late yesterday? oh, it was per-fect-ly priceless!""oh, but wasn't t. d. stewed!
say, he was simply ossified!what did gladys say to him?" "think of the nerve of bob bickerstafftrying to get us to come to his house! say, the nerve of him!can you beat it for nerve? some nerve i call it!" "did you notice how dotty was dancing?gee, wasn't she the limit!" babbitt was to be heard sonorously agreeingwith the once-hated miss minnie sonntag that persons who let a night go by withoutdancing to jazz music were crabs, pikers, and poor fish; and he roared "you bet!" when mrs. carrie nork gurgled, "don't youlove to sit on the floor?
it's so bohemian!"he began to think extremely well of the when he mentioned his friends sir geralddoak, lord wycombe, william washington eathorne, and chum frink, he was proud oftheir condescending interest. he got so thoroughly into the jocund spiritthat he didn't much mind seeing tanis drooping against the shoulder of theyoungest and milkiest of the young men, and he himself desired to hold carrie nork's pulpy hand, and dropped it only becausetanis looked angry. when he went home, at two, he was fully amember of the bunch, and all the week thereafter he was bound by the exceedinglystraitened conventions, the exceedingly
wearing demands, of their life of pleasureand freedom. he had to go to their parties; he wasinvolved in the agitation when everybody telephoned to everybody else that shehadn't meant what she'd said when she'd said that, and anyway, why was pete goingaround saying she'd said it? never was a family more insistent onlearning one another's movements than were the bunch. all of them volubly knew, or indignantlydesired to know, where all the others had been every minute of the week. babbitt found himself explaining to carrieor fulton bemis just what he had been doing
that he should not have joined them tillten o'clock, and apologizing for having gone to dinner with a businessacquaintance. every member of the bunch was expected totelephone to every other member at least once a week. "why haven't you called me up?"babbitt was asked accusingly, not only by tanis and carrie but presently by newancient friends, jennie and capitolina and toots. if for a moment he had seen tanis aswithering and sentimental, he lost that impression at carrie nork's dance.mrs. nork had a large house and a small
husband. to her party came all of the bunch, perhapsthirty-five of them when they were completely mobilized. babbitt, under the name of "old georgie,"was now a pioneer of the bunch, since each month it changed half its membership and hewho could recall the prehistoric days of a fortnight ago, before mrs. absolom, the food-demonstrator, had gone toindianapolis, and mac had "got sore at" minnie, was a venerable leader and able tocondescend to new petes and minnies and gladyses.
at carrie's, tanis did not have to work atbeing hostess. she was dignified and sure, a clear finefigure in the black chiffon frock he had always loved; and in the wider spaces ofthat ugly house babbitt was able to sit quietly with her. he repented of his first revulsion, moonedat her feet, and happily drove her home. next day he bought a violent yellow tie, tomake himself young for her. he knew, a little sadly, that he could notmake himself beautiful; he beheld himself as heavy, hinting of fatness, but hedanced, he dressed, he chattered, to be as young as she was...as young as she seemedto be.
iv as all converts, whether to a religion,love, or gardening, find as by magic that though hitherto these hobbies have notseemed to exist, now the whole world is filled with their fury, so, once he was converted to dissipation, babbittdiscovered agreeable opportunities for it everywhere.he had a new view of his sporting neighbor, sam doppelbrau. the doppelbraus were respectable people,industrious people, prosperous people, whose ideal of happiness was an eternalcabaret.
their life was dominated by suburbanbacchanalia of alcohol, nicotine, gasoline, and kisses. they and their set worked capably all theweek, and all week looked forward to saturday night, when they would, as theyexpressed it, "throw a party;" and the thrown party grew noisier and noisier up to sunday dawn, and usually included anextremely rapid motor expedition to nowhere in particular. one evening when tanis was at the theater,babbitt found himself being lively with the doppelbraus, pledging friendship with menwhom he had for years privily denounced to
mrs. babbitt as a "rotten bunch of tin- horns that i wouldn't go out with, rot ifthey were the last people on earth." that evening he had sulkily come home andpoked about in front of the house, chipping off the walk the ice-clots, like fossilfootprints, made by the steps of passers-by during the recent snow. howard littlefield came up snuffling."still a widower, george?" "yump.cold again to-night." "what do you hear from the wife?" "she's feeling fine, but her sister isstill pretty sick."
"say, better come in and have dinner withus to-night, george." "oh--oh, thanks. have to go out."suddenly he could not endure littlefield's recitals of the more interesting statisticsabout totally uninteresting problems. he scraped at the walk and grunted. sam doppelbrau appeared."evenin', babbitt. working hard?""yuh, lil exercise." "cold enough for you to-night?" "well, just about.""still a widower?"
"uh-huh." "say, babbitt, while she's away--i know youdon't care much for booze-fights, but the missus and i'd be awfully glad if you couldcome in some night. think you could stand a good cocktail foronce?" "stand it?young fella, i bet old uncle george can mix the best cocktail in these united states!" "hurray!that's the way to talk! look here: there's some folks coming to thehouse to-night, louetta swanson and some other live ones, and i'm going to open up abottle of pre-war gin, and maybe we'll
dance a while. why don't you drop in and jazz it up alittle, just for a change?" "well--what time they coming?"he was at sam doppelbrau's at nine. it was the third time he had entered thehouse. by ten he was calling mr. doppelbrau "sam,old hoss." at eleven they all drove out to the oldfarm inn. babbitt sat in the back of doppelbrau's carwith louetta swanson. once he had timorously tried to make loveto her. now he did not try; he merely made love;and louetta dropped her head on his
shoulder, told him what a nagger eddie was,and accepted babbitt as a decent and well- trained libertine. with the assistance of tanis's bunch, thedoppelbraus, and other companions in forgetfulness, there was not an evening fortwo weeks when he did not return home late and shaky. with his other faculties blurred he yet hadthe motorist's gift of being able to drive when he could scarce walk; of slowing downat corners and allowing for approaching cars. he came wambling into the house.if verona and kenneth escott were about, he
got past them with a hasty greeting,horribly aware of their level young glances, and hid himself up-stairs. he found when he came into the warm housethat he was hazier than he had believed. his head whirled.he dared not lie down. he tried to soak out the alcohol in a hotbath. for the moment his head was clearer butwhen he moved about the bathroom his calculations of distance were wrong, sothat he dragged down the towels, and knocked over the soap-dish with a clatter which, he feared, would betray him to thechildren.
chilly in his dressing-gown he tried toread the evening paper. he could follow every word; he seemed totake in the sense of things; but a minute afterward he could not have told what hehad been reading. when he went to bed his brain flew incircles, and he hastily sat up, struggling for self-control. at last he was able to lie still, feelingonly a little sick and dizzy--and enormously ashamed.to hide his "condition" from his own children! to have danced and shouted with people whomhe despised!
to have said foolish things, sung idioticsongs, tried to kiss silly girls! incredulously he remembered that he had byhis roaring familiarity with them laid himself open to the patronizing of youthswhom he would have kicked out of his office; that by dancing too ardently he had exposed himself to rebukes from therattiest of withering women. as it came relentlessly back to him hesnarled, "i hate myself! god how i hate myself!" but, he raged, "i'm through!no more! had enough, plenty!"
he was even surer about it the morningafter, when he was trying to be grave and paternal with his daughters at breakfast.at noontime he was less sure. he did not deny that he had been a fool; hesaw it almost as clearly as at midnight; but anything, he struggled, was better thangoing back to a life of barren heartiness. at four he wanted a drink. he kept a whisky flask in his desk now, andafter two minutes of battle he had his drink. three drinks later he began to see thebunch as tender and amusing friends, and by six he was with them...and the tale was tobe told all over.
each morning his head ached a little less. a bad head for drinks had been hissafeguard, but the safeguard was crumbling. presently he could be drunk at dawn, yetnot feel particularly wretched in his conscience--or in his stomach--when heawoke at eight. no regret, no desire to escape the toil ofkeeping up with the arduous merriment of the bunch, was so great as his feeling ofsocial inferiority when he failed to keep up. to be the "livest" of them was as much hisambition now as it had been to excel at making money, at playing golf, at motor-driving, at oratory, at climbing to the
mckelvey set. but occasionally he failed.he found that pete and the other young men considered the bunch too austerely politeand the carrie who merely kissed behind doors too embarrassingly monogamic. as babbitt sneaked from floral heights downto the bunch, so the young gallants sneaked from the proprieties of the bunch off to"times" with bouncing young women whom they picked up in department stores and at hotelcoatrooms. once babbitt tried to accompany them. there was a motor car, a bottle of whisky,and for him a grubby shrieking cash-girl
from parcher and stein's.he sat beside her and worried. he was apparently expected to "jolly heralong," but when she sang out, "hey, leggo, quit crushing me cootie-garage," he did notquite know how to go on. they sat in the back room of a saloon, andbabbitt had a headache, was confused by their new slang looked at thembenevolently, wanted to go home, and had a drink--a good many drinks. two evenings after, fulton bemis, the surlyolder man of the bunch, took babbitt aside and grunted, "look here, it's none of mybusiness, and god knows i always lap up my share of the hootch, but don't you thinkyou better watch yourself?
you're one of these enthusiastic chumpsthat always overdo things. d' you realize you're throwing in the boozeas fast as you can, and you eat one cigarette right after another?better cut it out for a while." babbitt tearfully said that good old fultwas a prince, and yes, he certainly would cut it out, and thereafter he lighted acigarette and took a drink and had a terrific quarrel with tanis when she caughthim being affectionate with carrie nork. next morning he hated himself that heshould have sunk into a position where a fifteenth-rater like fulton bemis couldrebuke him. he perceived that, since he was making loveto every woman possible, tanis was no
longer his one pure star, and he wonderedwhether she had ever been anything more to him than a woman. and if bemis had spoken to him, were otherpeople talking about him? he suspiciously watched the men at theathletic club that noon. it seemed to him that they were uneasy. they had been talking about him then?he was angry. he became belligerent. he not only defended seneca doane but evenmade fun of the y. m. c. a, vergil gunch was rather brief in his answers.afterward babbitt was not angry.
he was afraid. he did not go to the next lunch of theboosters' club but hid in a cheap restaurant, and, while he munched a ham-and-egg sandwich and sipped coffee from a cup on the arm of his chair, he worried. four days later, when the bunch were havingone of their best parties, babbitt drove them to the skating-rink which had beenlaid out on the chaloosa river. after a thaw the streets had frozen insmooth ice. down those wide endless streets the windrattled between the rows of wooden houses, and the whole bellevue district seemed afrontier town.
even with skid chains on all four wheels,babbitt was afraid of sliding, and when he came to the long slide of a hill he crawleddown, both brakes on. slewing round a corner came a less cautiouscar. it skidded, it almost raked them with itsrear fenders. in relief at their escape the bunch--tanis,minnie sonntag, pete, fulton bemis--shouted "oh, baby," and waved their hands to theagitated other driver. then babbitt saw professor pumphreylaboriously crawling up hill, afoot, staring owlishly at the revelers. he was sure that pumphrey recognized himand saw tanis kiss him as she crowed,
"you're such a good driver!" at lunch next day he probed pumphrey with"out last night with my brother and some friends of his.gosh, what driving! slippery 's glass. thought i saw you hiking up the bellevueavenue hill." "no, i wasn't--i didn't see you," saidpumphrey, hastily, rather guiltily. perhaps two days afterward babbitt tooktanis to lunch at the hotel thornleigh. she who had seemed well content to wait forhim at her flat had begun to hint with melancholy smiles that he must think butlittle of her if he never introduced her to
his friends, if he was unwilling to be seenwith her except at the movies. he thought of taking her to the "ladies'annex" of the athletic club, but that was too dangerous. he would have to introduce her and, oh,people might misunderstand and--he compromised on the thornleigh. she was unusually smart, all in black:small black tricorne hat, short black caracul coat, loose and swinging, andaustere high-necked black velvet frock at a time when most street costumes were likeevening gowns. perhaps she was too smart.
every one in the gold and oak restaurant ofthe thornleigh was staring at her as babbitt followed her to a table. he uneasily hoped that the head-waiterwould give them a discreet place behind a pillar, but they were stationed on thecenter aisle. tanis seemed not to notice her admirers;she smiled at babbitt with a lavish "oh, isn't this nice!what a peppy-looking orchestra!" babbitt had difficulty in being lavish inreturn, for two tables away he saw vergil all through the meal gunch watched them,while babbitt watched himself being watched and lugubriously tried to keep fromspoiling tanis's gaiety.
"i felt like a spree to-day," she rippled. "i love the thornleigh, don't you?it's so live and yet so--so refined." he made talk about the thornleigh, theservice, the food, the people he recognized in the restaurant, all but vergil gunch. there did not seem to be anything else totalk of. he smiled conscientiously at her flutteringjests; he agreed with her that minnie sonntag was "so hard to get along with,"and young pete "such a silly lazy kid, really just no good at all." but he himself had nothing to say.he considered telling her his worries about
gunch, but--"oh, gosh, it was too much workto go into the whole thing and explain about verg and everything." he was relieved when he put tanis on atrolley; he was cheerful in the familiar simplicities of his office.at four o'clock vergil gunch called on him. babbitt was agitated, but gunch began in afriendly way: "how's the boy?say, some of us are getting up a scheme we'd kind of like to have you come in on." "fine, verg.shoot." "you know during the war we had theundesirable element, the reds and walking
delegates and just the plain commongrouches, dead to rights, and so did we for quite a while after the war, but folks forget about the danger and that givesthese cranks a chance to begin working underground again, especially a lot ofthese parlor socialists. well, it's up to the folks that do a littlesound thinking to make a conscious effort to keep bucking these fellows. some guy back east has organized a societycalled the good citizens' league for just that purpose. of course the chamber of commerce and theamerican legion and so on do a fine work in
keeping the decent people in the saddle,but they're devoted to so many other causes that they can't attend to this one problemproperly. but the good citizens' league, the g. c.l., they stick right to it. oh, the g. c. l. has to have some otherostensible purposes--frinstance here in zenith i think it ought to support thepark-extension project and the city planning committee--and then, too, it should have a social aspect, being made upof the best people--have dances and so on, especially as one of the best ways it canput the kibosh on cranks is to apply this social boycott business to folks big enoughso you can't reach 'em otherwise.
then if that don't work, the g. c. l. canfinally send a little delegation around to inform folks that get too flip that theygot to conform to decent standards and quit shooting off their mouths so free. don't it sound like the organization coulddo a great work? we've already got some of the strongest menin town, and of course we want you in. how about it?" babbitt was uncomfortable.he felt a compulsion back to all the standards he had so vaguely yet sodesperately been fleeing. he fumbled:
"i suppose you'd especially light onfellows like seneca doane and try to make 'em--""you bet your sweet life we would! look here, old georgie: i've never for onemoment believed you meant it when you've defended doane, and the strikers and so on,at the club. i knew you were simply kidding those poorgaloots like sid finkelstein.... at least i certainly hope you werekidding!" "oh, well--sure--course you might say--"babbitt was conscious of how feeble he sounded, conscious of gunch's mature andrelentless eye. "gosh, you know where i stand!
i'm no labor agitator!i'm a business man, first, last, and all the time! but--but honestly, i don't think doanemeans so badly, and you got to remember he's an old friend of mine." "george, when it comes right down to astruggle between decency and the security of our homes on the one hand, and red ruinand those lazy dogs plotting for free beer on the other, you got to give up even oldfriendships. 'he that is not with me is against me.'""ye-es, i suppose--" "how about it?
going to join us in the good citizens'league?" "i'll have to think it over, verg.""all right, just as you say." babbitt was relieved to be let off soeasily, but gunch went on: "george, i don't know what's come over you; none of us do;and we've talked a lot about you. for a while we figured out you'd been upsetby what happened to poor riesling, and we forgave you for any fool thing you said,but that's old stuff now, george, and we can't make out what's got into you. personally, i've always defended you, but imust say it's getting too much for me. all the boys at the athletic club and theboosters' are sore, the way you go on
deliberately touting doane and his bunch ofhell-hounds, and talking about being liberal--which means being wishy-washy--and even saying this preacher guy ingram isn'ta professional free-love artist. and then the way you been carrying onpersonally! joe pumphrey says he saw you out the othernight with a gang of totties, all stewed to the gills, and here to-day coming rightinto the thornleigh with a--well, she may be all right and a perfect lady, but she certainly did look like a pretty gay skirtfor a fellow with his wife out of town to be taking to lunch.didn't look well.
what the devil has come over you, george?" "strikes me there's a lot of fellows thatknow more about my personal business than i do myself!" "now don't go getting sore at me because icome out flatfooted like a friend and say what i think instead of tattling behindyour back, the way a whole lot of 'em do. i tell you george, you got a position inthe community, and the community expects you to live up to it.and--better think over joining the good citizens' league. see you about it later."he was gone.
that evening babbitt dined alone. he saw all the clan of good fellows peeringthrough the restaurant window, spying on him. fear sat beside him, and he told himselfthat to-night he would not go to tanis's flat; and he did not go...till late. > chapter xxx ithe summer before, mrs. babbitt's letters had crackled with desire to return tozenith.
now they said nothing of returning, but awistful "i suppose everything is going on all right without me" among her drychronicles of weather and sicknesses hinted to babbitt that he hadn't been very urgentabout her coming. he worried it:"if she were here, and i went on raising cain like i been doing, she'd have a fit. i got to get hold of myself.i got to learn to play around and yet not make a fool of myself.i can do it, too, if folks like verg gunch 'll let me alone, and myra 'll stay away. but--poor kid, she sounds lonely.lord, i don't want to hurt her!"
impulsively he wrote that they missed her,and her next letter said happily that she was coming home. he persuaded himself that he was eager tosee her. he bought roses for the house, he orderedsquab for dinner, he had the car cleaned and polished. all the way home from the station with herhe was adequate in his accounts of ted's success in basket-ball at the university,but before they reached floral heights there was nothing more to say, and already he felt the force of her stolidity,wondered whether he could remain a good
husband and still sneak out of the housethis evening for half an hour with the when he had housed the car he blunderedupstairs, into the familiar talcum-scented warmth of her presence, blaring, "help youunpack your bag?" "no, i can do it." slowly she turned, holding up a small box,and slowly she said, "i brought you a present, just a new cigar-case.i don't know if you'd care to have it--" she was the lonely girl, the brownappealing myra thompson, whom he had married, and he almost wept for pity as hekissed her and besought, "oh, honey, honey, care to have it?
of course i do!i'm awful proud you brought it to me. and i needed a new case badly."he wondered how he would get rid of the case he had bought the week before. "and you really are glad to see me back?""why, you poor kiddy, what you been worrying about?""well, you didn't seem to miss me very much." by the time he had finished his stint oflying they were firmly bound again. by ten that evening it seemed improbablethat she had ever been away. there was but one difference: the problemof remaining a respectable husband, a
floral heights husband, yet seeing tanisand the bunch with frequency. he had promised to telephone to tanis thatevening, and now it was melodramatically impossible. he prowled about the telephone, impulsivelythrusting out a hand to lift the receiver, but never quite daring to risk it. nor could he find a reason for slippingdown to the drug store on smith street, with its telephone-booth. he was laden with responsibility till hethrew it off with the speculation: "why the deuce should i fret so about not being ableto 'phone tanis?
she can get along without me. i don't owe her anything.she's a fine girl, but i've given her just as much as she has me....oh, damn thesewomen and the way they get you all tied up in complications!" ii for a week he was attentive to his wife,took her to the theater, to dinner at the littlefields'; then the old weary dodgingand shifting began and at least two evenings a week he spent with the bunch. he still made pretense of going to the elksand to committee-meetings but less and less
did he trouble to have his excusesinteresting, less and less did she affect to believe them. he was certain that she knew he wasassociating with what floral heights called "a sporty crowd," yet neither of themacknowledged it. in matrimonial geography the distancebetween the first mute recognition of a break and the admission thereof is as greatas the distance between the first naive faith and the first doubting. as he began to drift away he also began tosee her as a human being, to like and dislike her instead of accepting her as acomparatively movable part of the
furniture, and he compassionated that husband-and-wife relation which, in twenty-five years of married life, had become a separate and real entity. he recalled their high lights the summervacation in virginia meadows under the blue wall of the mountains; their motor tourthrough ohio, and the exploration of cleveland, cincinnati, and columbus; the birth of verona; their building of this newhouse, planned to comfort them through a happy old age--chokingly they had said thatit might be the last home either of them would ever have.
yet his most softening remembrance of thesedear moments did not keep him from barking at dinner, "yep, going out f' few hours.don't sit up for me." he did not dare now to come home drunk, andthough he rejoiced in his return to high morality and spoke with gravity to pete andfulton bemis about their drinking, he prickled at myra's unexpressed criticisms and sulkily meditated that a "fellowcouldn't ever learn to handle himself if he was always bossed by a lot of women."he no longer wondered if tanis wasn't a bit worn and sentimental. in contrast to the complacent myra he sawher as swift and air-borne and radiant, a
fire-spirit tenderly stooping to thehearth, and however pitifully he brooded on his wife, he longed to be with tanis. then mrs. babbitt tore the decent cloakfrom her unhappiness and the astounded male discovered that she was having a smalldetermined rebellion of her own. iiithey were beside the fireless fire-place, in the evening. "georgie," she said, "you haven't given methe list of your household expenses while i was away.""no, i--haven't made it out yet." very affably: "gosh, we must try to keepdown expenses this year."
"that's so.i don't know where all the money goes to. i try to economize, but it just seems toevaporate." "i suppose i oughtn't to spend so much oncigars. don't know but what i'll cut down mysmoking, maybe cut it out entirely. i was thinking of a good way to do it, theother day: start on these cubeb cigarettes, and they'd kind of disgust me withsmoking." "oh, i do wish you would! it isn't that i care, but honestly, george,it is so bad for you to smoke so much. don't you think you could reduce theamount?
and george--i notice now, when you comehome from these lodges and all, that sometimes you smell of whisky. dearie, you know i don't worry so muchabout the moral side of it, but you have a weak stomach and you can't stand all thisdrinking." "weak stomach, hell! i guess i can carry my booze about as wellas most folks!" "well, i do think you ought to be careful.don't you see, dear, i don't want you to get sick." "sick rats!i'm not a baby!
i guess i ain't going to get sick justbecause maybe once a week i shoot a highball! that's the trouble with women.they always exaggerate so." "george, i don't think you ought to talkthat way when i'm just speaking for your own good." "i know, but gosh all fishhooks, that's thetrouble with women! they're always criticizing and commentingand bringing things up, and then they say it's 'for your own good'!" "why, george, that's not a nice way totalk, to answer me so short."
"well, i didn't mean to answer short, butgosh, talking as if i was a kindergarten brat, not able to tote one highball withoutcalling for the st. mary's ambulance! a fine idea you must have of me!" "oh, it isn't that; it's just--i don't wantto see you get sick and--my, i didn't know it was so late!don't forget to give me those household accounts for the time while i was away." "oh, thunder, what's the use of taking thetrouble to make 'em out now? let's just skip 'em for that period." "why, george babbitt, in all the yearswe've been married we've never failed to
keep a complete account of every pennywe've spent!" "no. maybe that's the trouble with us." "what in the world do you mean?" "oh, i don't mean anything, only--sometimesi get so darn sick and tired of all this routine and the accounting at the officeand expenses at home and fussing and stewing and fretting and wearing myself out worrying over a lot of junk that doesn'treally mean a doggone thing, and being so careful and--good lord, what do you thinki'm made for? i could have been a darn good orator, andhere i fuss and fret and worry--"
"don't you suppose i ever get tired offussing? i get so bored with ordering three meals aday, three hundred and sixty-five days a year, and ruining my eyes over that horridsewing-machine, and looking after your clothes and rone's and ted's and tinka's and everybody's, and the laundry, anddarning socks, and going down to the piggly wiggly to market, and bringing my baskethome to save money on the cash-and-carry and--everything!" "well, gosh," with a certain astonishment,"i suppose maybe you do! but talk about--here i have to be in theoffice every single day, while you can go
out all afternoon and see folks and visitwith the neighbors and do any blinkin' thing you want to!" "yes, and a fine lot of good that does me!just talking over the same old things with the same old crowd, while you have allsorts of interesting people coming in to see you at the office." "interesting! cranky old dames that want to know why ihaven't rented their dear precious homes for about seven times their value, andbunch of old crabs panning the everlasting daylights out of me because they don't
receive every cent of their rentals bythree g.m. on the second of the month! sure!interesting! just as interesting as the small pox!" "now, george, i will not have you shoutingat me that way!" "well, it gets my goat the way women figureout that a man doesn't do a darn thing but sit on his chair and have lovey-doveyconferences with a lot of classy dames and give 'em the glad eye!" "i guess you manage to give them a gladenough eye when they do come in." "what do you mean?mean i'm chasing flappers?"
"i should hope not--at your age!" "now you look here!you may not believe it--of course all you see is fat little georgie babbitt.sure! handy man around the house! fixes the furnace when the furnace-mandoesn't show up, and pays the bills, but dull, awful dull! well, you may not believe it, but there'ssome women that think old george babbitt isn't such a bad scout! they think he's not so bad-looking, not sobad that it hurts anyway, and he's got a
pretty good line of guff, and some eventhink he shakes a darn wicked walkover at dancing!" "yes."she spoke slowly. "i haven't much doubt that when i'm awayyou manage to find people who properly appreciate you." "well, i just mean--" he protested, with asound of denial. then he was angered into semi-honesty."you bet i do! i find plenty of folks, and doggone niceones, that don't think i'm a weak-stomached baby!""that's exactly what i was saying!
you can run around with anybody you please,but i'm supposed to sit here and wait for you. you have the chance to get all sorts ofculture and everything, and i just stay home--" "well, gosh almighty, there's nothing toprevent your reading books and going to lectures and all that junk, is there?""george, i told you, i won't have you shouting at me like that! i don't know what's come over you.you never used to speak to me in this cranky way."
"i didn't mean to sound cranky, but gosh,it certainly makes me sore to get the blame because you don't keep up with things.""i'm going to! will you help me?" "sure.anything i can do to help you in the culture-grabbing line--yours to oblige, g.f. babbitt." "very well then, i want you to go to mrs.mudge's new thought meeting with me, next sunday afternoon.""mrs. who's which?" "mrs. opal emerson mudge. the field-lecturer for the american newthought league.
she's going to speak on 'cultivating thesun spirit' before the league of the higher illumination, at the thornleigh." "oh, punk!new thought! hashed thought with a poached egg!'cultivating the--' it sounds like 'why is a mouse when it spins?' that's a fine spiel for a good presbyterianto be going to, when you can hear doc drew!" "reverend drew is a scholar and a pulpitorator and all that, but he hasn't got the inner ferment, as mrs. mudge calls it; hehasn't any inspiration for the new era.
women need inspiration now. so i want you to come, as you promised." the zenith branch of the league of thehigher illumination met in the smaller ballroom at the hotel thornleigh, a refinedapartment with pale green walls and plaster wreaths of roses, refined parquet flooring,and ultra-refined frail gilt chairs. here were gathered sixty-five women and tenmen. most of the men slouched in their chairsand wriggled, while their wives sat rigidly at attention, but two of them--red-necked,meaty men--were as respectably devout as their wives.
they were newly rich contractors who,having bought houses, motors, hand-painted pictures, and gentlemanliness, were nowbuying a refined ready-made philosophy. it had been a toss-up with them whether tobuy new thought, christian science, or a good standard high-church model ofepiscopalianism. in the flesh, mrs. opal emerson mudge fellsomewhat short of a prophetic aspect. she was pony-built and plump, with the faceof a haughty pekingese, a button of a nose, and arms so short that, despite her mostindignant endeavors, she could not clasp her hands in front of her as she sat on theplatform waiting. her frock of taffeta and green velvet, withthree strings of glass beads, and large
folding eye-glasses dangling from a blackribbon, was a triumph of refinement. mrs. mudge was introduced by the presidentof the league of the higher illumination, an oldish young woman with a yearningvoice, white spats, and a mustache. she said that mrs. mudge would now make itplain to the simplest intellect how the sun spirit could be cultivated, and they whohad been thinking about cultivating one would do well to treasure mrs. mudge's words, because even zenith (and everybodyknew that zenith stood in the van of spiritual and new thought progress) didn'toften have the opportunity to sit at the feet of such an inspiring optimist and
metaphysical seer as mrs. opal emersonmudge, who had lived the life of wider usefulness through concentration, and inthe silence found those secrets of mental control and the inner key which were immediately going to transform and bringpeace, power, and prosperity to the unhappy nations; and so, friends, would they forthis precious gem-studded hour forget the illusions of the seeming real, and in the actualization of the deep-lying veritaspass, along with mrs. opal emerson mudge, to the realm beautiful. if mrs. mudge was rather pudgier than onewould like one's swamis, yogis, seers, and
initiates, yet her voice had the realprofessional note. it was refined and optimistic; it wasoverpoweringly calm; it flowed on relentlessly, without one comma, tillbabbitt was hypnotized. her favorite word was "always," which shepronounced olllllle-ways. her principal gesture was a pontifical butthoroughly ladylike blessing with two stubby fingers. she explained about this matter ofspiritual saturation: "there are those--" of "those" she made a linked sweetness longdrawn out; a far-off delicate call in a
twilight minor.it chastely rebuked the restless husbands, yet brought them a message of healing. "there are those who have seen the rim andouter seeming of the logos there are those who have glimpsed and in enthusiasmpossessed themselves of some segment and portion of the logos there are those who thus flicked but not penetrated andradioactivated by the dynamis go always to and fro assertative that they possess andare possessed of the logos and the metaphysikos but this word i bring you this concept i enlarge that those that are notutter are not even inceptive and that
holiness is in its definitive essencealways always always whole-iness and--" it proved that the essence of the sunspirit was truth, but its aura and effluxion were cheerfulness: "face always the day with the dawn-laughwith the enthusiasm of the initiate who perceives that all works together in therevolutions of the wheel and who answers the strictures of the soured souls of thedestructionists with a glad affirmation--" it went on for about an hour and sevenminutes. at the end mrs. mudge spoke with more vigorand punctuation: "now let me suggest to all of you theadvantages of the theosophical and
pantheistic oriental reading circle, whichi represent. our object is to unite all themanifestations of the new era into one cohesive whole--new thought, christianscience, theosophy, vedanta, bahaism, and the other sparks from the one new light. the subscription is but ten dollars a year,and for this mere pittance the members receive not only the monthly magazine,pearls of healing, but the privilege of sending right to the president, our revered mother dobbs, any questions regardingspiritual progress, matrimonial problems, health and well-being questions, financialdifficulties, and--"
they listened to her with adoringattention. they looked genteel.they looked ironed-out. they coughed politely, and crossed theirlegs with quietness, and in expensive linen handkerchiefs they blew their noses with adelicacy altogether optimistic and refined. as for babbitt, he sat and suffered. when they were blessedly out in the airagain, when they drove home through a wind smelling of snow and honest sun, he darednot speak. they had been too near to quarreling, thesedays. mrs. babbitt forced it:"did you enjoy mrs. mudge's talk?"
"well i--what did you get out of it?" "oh, it starts a person thinking.it gets you out of a routine of ordinary thoughts." "well, i'll hand it to opal she isn'tordinary, but gosh--honest, did that stuff mean anything to you?" "of course i'm not trained in metaphysics,and there was lots i couldn't quite grasp, but i did feel it was inspiring.and she speaks so readily. i do think you ought to have got somethingout of it." "well, i didn't!i swear, i was simply astonished, the way
those women lapped it up! why the dickens they want to put in theirtime listening to all that blaa when they-- ""it's certainly better for them than going to roadhouses and smoking and drinking!" "i don't know whether it is or not!personally i don't see a whole lot of difference. in both cases they're trying to get awayfrom themselves--most everybody is, these days, i guess. and i'd certainly get a whole lot more outof hoofing it in a good lively dance, even
in some dive, than sitting looking as if mycollar was too tight, and feeling too scared to spit, and listening to opalchewing her words." "i'm sure you do!you're very fond of dives. no doubt you saw a lot of them while i wasaway!" "look here! you been doing a hell of a lot ofinsinuating and hinting around lately, as if i were leading a double life orsomething, and i'm damn sick of it, and i don't want to hear anything more about it!" "why, george babbitt!do you realize what you're saying?
why, george, in all our years togetheryou've never talked to me like that!" "it's about time then!" "lately you've been getting worse andworse, and now, finally, you're cursing and swearing at me and shouting at me, and yourvoice so ugly and hateful--i just shudder!" "oh, rats, quit exaggerating! i wasn't shouting, or swearing either.""i wish you could hear your own voice! maybe you don't realize how it sounds.but even so--you never used to talk like that. you simply couldn't talk this way ifsomething dreadful hadn't happened to you."
his mind was hard.with amazement he found that he wasn't particularly sorry. it was only with an effort that he madehimself more agreeable: "well, gosh, i didn't mean to get sore." "george, do you realize that we can't go onlike this, getting farther and farther apart, and you ruder and ruder to me?i just don't know what's going to happen." he had a moment's pity for herbewilderment; he thought of how many deep and tender things would be hurt if theyreally "couldn't go on like this." but his pity was impersonal, and he waswondering, "wouldn't it maybe be a good
thing if--not a divorce and all that, o'course, but kind of a little more independence?" while she looked at him pleadingly he droveon in a dreadful silence. chapter xxxi i when he was away from her, while he kickedabout the garage and swept the snow off the running-board and examined a cracked hose-connection, he repented, he was alarmed and astonished that he could have flared out at his wife, and thought fondly how much morelasting she was than the flighty bunch.
he went in to mumble that he was "sorry,didn't mean to be grouchy," and to inquire as to her interest in movies. but in the darkness of the movie theater hebrooded that he'd "gone and tied himself up to myra all over again."he had some satisfaction in taking it out on tanis judique. "hang tanis anyway!why'd she gone and got him into these mix- ups and made him all jumpy and nervous andcranky? too many complications! cut 'em out!"he wanted peace.
for ten days he did not see tanis nortelephone to her, and instantly she put upon him the compulsion which he hated. when he had stayed away from her for fivedays, hourly taking pride in his resoluteness and hourly picturing howgreatly tanis must miss him, miss mcgoun reported, "mrs. judique on the 'phone. like t' speak t' you 'bout some repairs."tanis was quick and quiet: "mr. babbitt?oh, george, this is tanis. i haven't seen you for weeks--days, anyway. you aren't sick, are you?""no, just been terribly rushed.
i, uh, i think there'll be a big revival ofbuilding this year. got to, uh, got to work hard." "of course, my man!i want you to. you know i'm terribly ambitious for you;much more than i am for myself. i just don't want you to forget poor tanis. will you call me up soon?""sure! sure!you bet!" "please do. i sha'n't call you again."he meditated, "poor kid!...but gosh, she
oughtn't to 'phone me at the office.... she's a wonder--sympathy 'ambitious forme.'...but gosh, i won't be made and compelled to call her up till i get ready.darn these women, the way they make demands! it'll be one long old time before i seeher!...but gosh, i'd like to see her to- night--sweet little thing....oh, cut that, son! now you've broken away, be wise!" she did not telephone again, nor he, butafter five more days she wrote to him: have i offended you?you must know, dear, i didn't mean to.
i'm so lonely and i need somebody to cheerme up. why didn't you come to the nice party wehad at carrie's last evening i remember she invited you. can't you come around here to-morrow thurevening? i shall be alone and hope to see you.his reflections were numerous: "doggone it, why can't she let me alone? why can't women ever learn a fellow hatesto be bulldozed? and they always take advantage of you byyelling how lonely they are. "now that isn't nice of you, young fella.
she's a fine, square, straight girl, andshe does get lonely. she writes a swell hand.nice-looking stationery. plain. refined.i guess i'll have to go see her. well, thank god, i got till to-morrow nightfree of her, anyway. "she's nice but--hang it, i won't be madeto do things! i'm not married to her.no, nor by golly going to be! "oh, rats, i suppose i better go see her." iithursday, the to-morrow of tanis's note,
was full of emotional crises. at the roughnecks' table at the club, verggunch talked of the good citizens' league and (it seemed to babbitt) deliberatelyleft him out of the invitations to join. old mat penniman, the general utility manat babbitt's office, had troubles, and came in to groan about them: his oldest boy was"no good," his wife was sick, and he had quarreled with his brother-in-law. conrad lyte also had troubles, and sincelyte was one of his best clients, babbitt had to listen to them. mr. lyte, it appeared, was suffering from apeculiarly interesting neuralgia, and the
garage had overcharged him. when babbitt came home, everybody hadtroubles: his wife was simultaneously thinking about discharging the impudent newmaid, and worried lest the maid leave; and tinka desired to denounce her teacher. "oh, quit fussing!"babbitt fussed. "you never hear me whining about mytroubles, and yet if you had to run a real- estate office--why, to-day i found missbannigan was two days behind with her accounts, and i pinched my finger in my desk, and lyte was in and just asunreasonable as ever."
he was so vexed that after dinner, when itwas time for a tactful escape to tanis, he merely grumped to his wife, "got to go out. be back by eleven, should think.""oh! you're going out again?" "again!what do you mean 'again'! haven't hardly been out of the house for aweek!" "are you--are you going to the elks?""nope. got to see some people." though this time he heard his own voice andknew that it was curt, though she was looking at him with wide-eyed reproach, hestumped into the hall, jerked on his ulster
and furlined gloves, and went out to startthe car. he was relieved to find tanis cheerful,unreproachful, and brilliant in a frock of brown net over gold tissue. "you poor man, having to come out on anight like this! it's terribly cold.don't you think a small highball would be nice?" "now, by golly, there's a woman with savvy!i think we could more or less stand a highball if it wasn't too long a one--notover a foot tall!" he kissed her with careless heartiness, heforgot the compulsion of her demands, he
stretched in a large chair and felt that hehad beautifully come home. he was suddenly loquacious; he told herwhat a noble and misunderstood man he was, and how superior to pete, fulton bemis, andthe other men of their acquaintance; and she, bending forward, chin in charminghand, brightly agreed. but when he forced himself to ask, "well,honey, how's things with you," she took his duty-question seriously, and he discoveredthat she too had troubles: "oh, all right but--i did get so angry withcarrie. she told minnie that i told her that minniewas an awful tightwad, and minnie told me carrie had told her, and of course i toldher i hadn't said anything of the kind, and
then carrie found minnie had told me, and she was simply furious because minnie hadtold me, and of course i was just boiling because carrie had told her i'd told her,and then we all met up at fulton's--his wife is away--thank heavens!--oh, there's the dandiest floor in his house to danceon--and we were all of us simply furious at each other and--oh, i do hate that kind ofa mix-up, don't you? i mean--it's so lacking in refinement, but--and mother wants to come and stay with me for a whole month, and of course i do loveher, i suppose i do, but honestly, she'll cramp my style something dreadful--she
never can learn not to comment, and shealways wants to know where i'm going when i go out evenings, and if i lie to her shealways spies around and ferrets around and finds out where i've been, and then she looks like patience on a monument till icould just scream. and oh, i must tell you--you know i nevertalk about myself; i just hate people who do, don't you? but--i feel so stupid to-night, and i knowi must be boring you with all this but-- what would you do about mother?"he gave her facile masculine advice. she was to put off her mother's stay.
she was to tell carrie to go to the deuce.for these valuable revelations she thanked him, and they ambled into the familiargossip of the bunch. of what a sentimental fool was carrie. of what a lazy brat was pete. of how nice fulton bemis could be--"courselots of people think he's a regular old grouch when they meet him because hedoesn't give 'em the glad hand the first crack out of the box, but when they get toknow him, he's a corker." but as they had gone conscientiouslythrough each of these analyses before, the conversation staggered.
babbitt tried to be intellectual and dealwith general topics. he said some thoroughly sound things aboutdisarmament, and broad-mindedness and liberalism; but it seemed to him thatgeneral topics interested tanis only when she could apply them to pete, carrie, orthemselves. he was distressingly conscious of theirsilence. he tried to stir her into chattering again,but silence rose like a gray presence and hovered between them."i, uh--" he labored. "it strikes me--it strikes me thatunemployment is lessening." "maybe pete will get a decent job, then."silence.
desperately he essayed, "what's thetrouble, old honey? you seem kind of quiet to-night.""am i? oh, i'm not. but--do you really care whether i am ornot?" "care?sure! course i do!" "do you really?"she swooped on him, sat on the arm of his chair.he hated the emotional drain of having to appear fond of her.
he stroked her hand, smiled up at herdutifully, and sank back. "george, i wonder if you really like me atall?" "course i do, silly." "do you really, precious?do you care a bit?" "why certainly!you don't suppose i'd be here if i didn't!" "now see here, young man, i won't have youspeaking to me in that huffy way!" "i didn't mean to sound huffy. i just--" in injured and rather childishtones: "gosh almighty, it makes me tired the way everybody says i sound huffy when ijust talk natural!
do they expect me to sing it or something?" "who do you mean by 'everybody'?how many other ladies have you been consoling?""look here now, i won't have this hinting!" humbly: "i know, dear. i was only teasing.i know it didn't mean to talk huffy--it was just tired.forgive bad tanis. but say you love me, say it!" "i love you....course i do." "yes, you do!" cynically."oh, darling, i don't mean to be rude but--
i get so lonely. i feel so useless.nobody needs me, nothing i can do for anybody.and you know, dear, i'm so active--i could be if there was something to do. and i am young, aren't i!i'm not an old thing! i'm not old and stupid, am i?"he had to assure her. she stroked his hair, and he had to lookpleased under that touch, the more demanding in its beguiling softness.he was impatient. he wanted to flee out to a hard, sure,unemotional man-world.
through her delicate and caressing fingersshe may have caught something of his shrugging distaste. she left him--he was for the momentbuoyantly relieved--she dragged a footstool to his feet and sat looking beseechingly upat him. but as in many men the cringing of a dog,the flinching of a frightened child, rouse not pity but a surprised and jerky cruelty,so her humility only annoyed him. and he saw her now as middle-aged, asbeginning to be old. even while he detested his own thoughts,they rode him. she was old, he winced.
old!he noted how the soft flesh was creasing into webby folds beneath her chin, belowher eyes, at the base of her wrists. a patch of her throat had a minuteroughness like the crumbs from a rubber eraser.old! she was younger in years than himself, yetit was sickening to have her yearning up at him with rolling great eyes--as if, heshuddered, his own aunt were making love to he fretted inwardly, "i'm through with thisasinine fooling around. i'm going to cut her out. she's a darn decent nice woman, and i don'twant to hurt her, but it'll hurt a lot less
to cut her right out, like a good cleansurgical operation." he was on his feet. he was speaking urgently.by every rule of self-esteem, he had to prove to her, and to himself, that it washer fault. "i suppose maybe i'm kind of out of sortsto-night, but honest, honey, when i stayed away for a while to catch up on work andeverything and figure out where i was at, you ought to have been cannier and waitedtill i came back. can't you see, dear, when you made me come,i--being about an average bull-headed chump--my tendency was to resist?
listen, dear, i'm going now--""not for a while, precious! no!""yep. right now. and then sometime we'll see about thefuture." "what do you mean, dear, 'about thefuture'? have i done something i oughtn't to? oh, i'm so dreadfully sorry!"he resolutely put his hands behind him. "not a thing, god bless you, not a thing.you're as good as they make 'em. but it's just--good lord, do you realizei've got things to do in the world? i've got a business to attend to and, youmight not believe it, but i've got a wife
and kids that i'm awful fond of!" then only during the murder he wascommitting was he able to feel nobly virtuous. "i want us to be friends but, gosh, i can'tgo on this way feeling i got to come up here every so often--" "oh, darling, darling, and i've always toldyou, so carefully, that you were absolutely free. i just wanted you to come around when youwere tired and wanted to talk to me, or when you could enjoy our parties--"she was so reasonable, she was so gently
right! it took him an hour to make his escape,with nothing settled and everything horribly settled.in a barren freedom of icy northern wind he sighed, "thank god that's over! poor tanis, poor darling decent tanis!but it is over. absolute!i'm free!" chapter xxxii ihis wife was up when he came in. "did you have a good time?" she sniffed."i did not.
i had a rotten time! anything else i got to explain?""george, how can you speak like--oh, i don't know what's come over you!""good lord, there's nothing come over me! why do you look for trouble all the time?" he was warning himself, "careful!stop being so disagreeable. course she feels it, being left alone hereall evening." but he forgot his warning as she went on: "why do you go out and see all sorts ofstrange people? i suppose you'll say you've been to anothercommittee-meeting this evening!"
"nope. i've been calling on a woman.we sat by the fire and kidded each other and had a whale of a good time, if you wantto know!" "well--from the way you say it, i supposeit's my fault you went there! i probably sent you!""you did!" "well, upon my word--" "you hate 'strange people' as you call 'em.if you had your way, i'd be as much of an old stick-in-the-mud as howard littlefield. you never want to have anybody with any gitto 'em at the house; you want a bunch of
old stiffs that sit around and gas aboutthe weather. you're doing your level best to make meold. well, let me tell you, i'm not going tohave--" overwhelmed she bent to his unprecedentedtirade, and in answer she mourned: "oh, dearest, i don't think that's true.i don't mean to make you old, i know. perhaps you're partly right. perhaps i am slow about getting acquaintedwith new people. but when you think of all the dear goodtimes we have, and the supper-parties and the movies and all--"
with true masculine wiles he not onlyconvinced himself that she had injured him but, by the loudness of his voice and thebrutality of his attack, he convinced her also, and presently he had her apologizing for his having spent the evening withtanis. he went up to bed well pleased, not onlythe master but the martyr of the household. for a distasteful moment after he had laindown he wondered if he had been altogether just."ought to be ashamed, bullying her. maybe there is her side to things. maybe she hasn't had such a bloomin' hectictime herself.
but i don't care!good for her to get waked up a little. and i'm going to keep free. of her and tanis and the fellows at theclub and everybody. i'm going to run my own life!" iiin this mood he was particularly objectionable at the boosters' club lunchnext day. they were addressed by a congressman whohad just returned from an exhaustive three- months study of the finances, ethnology,political systems, linguistic divisions, mineral resources, and agriculture of
germany, france, great britain, italy,austria, czechoslovakia, jugoslavia, and bulgaria. he told them all about those subjects,together with three funny stories about european misconceptions of america and somespirited words on the necessity of keeping ignorant foreigners out of america. "say, that was a mighty informative talk.real he-stuff," said sidney finkelstein. but the disaffected babbitt grumbled,"four-flusher! bunch of hot air! and what's the matter with the immigrants?gosh, they aren't all ignorant, and i got a
hunch we're all descended from immigrantsourselves." "oh, you make me tired!" said mr.finkelstein. babbitt was aware that dr. a. i. dillingwas sternly listening from across the table. dr. dilling was one of the most importantmen in the boosters'. he was not a physician but a surgeon, amore romantic and sounding occupation. he was an intense large man with a boilingof black hair and a thick black mustache. the newspapers often chronicled hisoperations; he was professor of surgery in the state university; he went to dinner atthe very best houses on royal ridge; and he
was said to be worth several hundredthousand dollars. it was dismaying to babbitt to have such aperson glower at him. he hastily praised the congressman's wit,to sidney finkelstein, but for dr. dilling's benefit. iiithat afternoon three men shouldered into babbitt's office with the air of avigilante committee in frontier days. they were large, resolute, big-jawed men,and they were all high lords in the land of zenith--dr. dilling the surgeon, charlesmckelvey the contractor, and, most dismaying of all, the white-bearded colonel
rutherford snow, owner of the advocate-times. in their whelming presence babbitt feltsmall and insignificant. "well, well, great pleasure, have chairs,what c'n i do for you?" he babbled. they neither sat nor offered observationson the weather. "babbitt," said colonel snow, "we've comefrom the good citizens' league. we've decided we want you to join.vergil gunch says you don't care to, but i think we can show you a new light. the league is going to combine with thechamber of commerce in a campaign for the open shop, so it's time for you to put yourname down."
in his embarrassment babbitt could notrecall his reasons for not wishing to join the league, if indeed he had everdefinitely known them, but he was passionately certain that he did not wish to join, and at the thought of theirforcing him he felt a stirring of anger against even these princes of commerce."sorry, colonel, have to think it over a little," he mumbled. mckelvey snarled, "that means you're notgoing to join, george?" something black and unfamiliar andferocious spoke from babbitt: "now, you look here, charley!
i'm damned if i'm going to be bullied intojoining anything, not even by you plutes!" "we're not bullying anybody," dr. dillingbegan, but colonel snow thrust him aside with, "certainly we are! we don't mind a little bullying, if it'snecessary. babbitt, the g.c.l. has been talking aboutyou a good deal. you're supposed to be a sensible, clean,responsible man; you always have been; but here lately, for god knows what reason, ihear from all sorts of sources that you're running around with a loose crowd, and what's a whole lot worse, you've actuallybeen advocating and supporting some of the
most dangerous elements in town, like thisfellow doane." "colonel, that strikes me as my privatebusiness." "possibly, but we want to have anunderstanding. you've stood in, you and your father-in-law, with some of the most substantial and forward-looking interests in town, like myfriends of the street traction company, and my papers have given you a lot of boosts. well, you can't expect the decent citizensto go on aiding you if you intend to side with precisely the people who are trying toundermine us." babbitt was frightened, but he had anagonized instinct that if he yielded in
this he would yield in everything.he protested: "you're exaggerating, colonel. i believe in being broad-minded andliberal, but, of course, i'm just as much agin the cranks and blatherskites and laborunions and so on as you are. but fact is, i belong to so manyorganizations now that i can't do 'em justice, and i want to think it over beforei decide about coming into the g.c.l." colonel snow condescended, "oh, no, i'm notexaggerating! why the doctor here heard you cussing outand defaming one of the finest types of republican congressmen, just this noon!
and you have entirely the wrong idea about'thinking over joining.' we're not begging you to join the g.c.l.--we're permitting you to join. i'm not sure, my boy, but what if you putit off it'll be too late. i'm not sure we'll want you then.better think quick--better think quick!" the three vigilantes, formidable in theirrighteousness, stared at him in a taut silence.babbitt waited through. he thought nothing at all, he merelywaited, while in his echoing head buzzed, "i don't want to join--i don't want tojoin--i don't want to." "all right.
sorry for you!" said colonel snow, and thethree men abruptly turned their beefy backs. ivas babbitt went out to his car that evening he saw vergil gunch coming down the block.he raised his hand in salutation, but gunch ignored it and crossed the street. he was certain that gunch had seen him.he drove home in sharp discomfort. his wife attacked at once: "georgie dear,muriel frink was in this afternoon, and she says that chum says the committee of thisgood citizens' league especially asked you to join and you wouldn't.
don't you think it would be better?you know all the nicest people belong, and the league stands for--""i know what the league stands for! it stands for the suppression of freespeech and free thought and everything else! i don't propose to be bullied and rushedinto joining anything, and it isn't a question of whether it's a good league or abad league or what the hell kind of a league it is; it's just a question of myrefusing to be told i got to--" "but dear, if you don't join, people mightcriticize you." "let 'em criticize!"
"but i mean nice people!""rats, i--matter of fact, this whole league is just a fad. it's like all these other organizationsthat start off with such a rush and let on they're going to change the whole works,and pretty soon they peter out and everybody forgets all about 'em!" "but if it's the fad now, don't you thinkyou--" "no, i don't!oh, myra, please quit nagging me about it. i'm sick of hearing about the confoundedg.c.l. i almost wish i'd joined it when verg firstcame around, and got it over.
and maybe i'd 've come in to-day if thecommittee hadn't tried to bullyrag me, but, by god, as long as i'm a free-bornindependent american cit--" "now, george, you're talking exactly likethe german furnace-man." "oh, i am, am i!then, i won't talk at all!" he longed, that evening, to see tanisjudique, to be strengthened by her sympathy. when all the family were up-stairs he gotas far as telephoning to her apartment- house, but he was agitated about it andwhen the janitor answered he blurted, "nev' mind--i'll call later," and hung up thereceiver.
vif babbitt had not been certain about vergil gunch's avoiding him, there could belittle doubt about william washington eathorne, next morning. when babbitt was driving down to the officehe overtook eathorne's car, with the great banker sitting in anemic solemnity behindhis chauffeur. babbitt waved and cried, "mornin'!" eathorne looked at him deliberately,hesitated, and gave him a nod more contemptuous than a direct cut.babbitt's partner and father-in-law came in at ten:
"george, what's this i hear about some songand dance you gave colonel snow about not wanting to join the g.c.l.?what the dickens you trying to do? wreck the firm? you don't suppose these big guns will standyour bucking them and springing all this 'liberal' poppycock you been getting offlately, do you?" "oh, rats, henry t., you been reading bumfiction. there ain't any such a thing as these plotsto keep folks from being liberal. this is a free country. a man can do anything he wants to.""course th' ain't any plots.
who said they was? only if folks get an idea you're scatter-brained and unstable, you don't suppose they'll want to do business with you, doyou? one little rumor about your being a crankwould do more to ruin this business than all the plots and stuff that these foolstory-writers could think up in a month of sundays." that afternoon, when the old reliableconrad lyte, the merry miser, conrad lyte, appeared, and babbitt suggested his buyinga parcel of land in the new residential section of dorchester, lyte said hastily,
too hastily, "no, no, don't want to go intoanything new just now." a week later babbitt learned, through henrythompson, that the officials of the street traction company were planning anotherreal-estate coup, and that sanders, torrey and wing, not the babbitt-thompson company,were to handle it for them. "i figure that jake offutt is kind of leeryabout the way folks are talking about you. of course jake is a rock-ribbed old die-hard, and he probably advised the traction fellows to get some other broker.george, you got to do something!" trembled thompson. and, in a rush, babbitt agreed.
all nonsense the way people misjudged him,but still--he determined to join the good citizens' league the next time he wasasked, and in furious resignation he waited. he wasn't asked.they ignored him. he did not have the courage to go to theleague and beg in, and he took refuge in a shaky boast that he had "gotten away withbucking the whole city. nobody could dictate to him how he wasgoing to think and act!" he was jarred as by nothing else when theparagon of stenographers, miss mcgoun, suddenly left him, though her reasons wereexcellent--she needed a rest, her sister
was sick, she might not do any more workfor six months. he was uncomfortable with her successor,miss havstad. what miss havstad's given name was, no onein the office ever knew. it seemed improbable that she had a givenname, a lover, a powder-puff, or a digestion. she was so impersonal, this slight, pale,industrious swede, that it was vulgar to think of her as going to an ordinary hometo eat hash. she was a perfectly oiled and enameledmachine, and she ought, each evening, to have been dusted off and shut in her deskbeside her too-slim, too-frail pencil
points. she took dictation swiftly, her typing wasperfect, but babbitt became jumpy when he tried to work with her. she made him feel puffy, and at his best-beloved daily jokes she looked gently inquiring.he longed for miss mcgoun's return, and thought of writing to her. then he heard that miss mcgoun had, a weekafter leaving him, gone over to his dangerous competitors, sanders, torrey andwing. he was not merely annoyed; he wasfrightened.
"why did she quit, then?" he worried."did she have a hunch my business is going on the rocks? and it was sanders got the street tractiondeal. rats--sinking ship!"gray fear loomed always by him now. he watched fritz weilinger, the youngsalesman, and wondered if he too would leave.daily he fancied slights. he noted that he was not asked to speak atthe annual chamber of commerce dinner. when orville jones gave a large poker partyand he was not invited, he was certain that he had been snubbed.
he was afraid to go to lunch at theathletic club, and afraid not to go. he believed that he was spied on; that whenhe left the table they whispered about him. everywhere he heard the rustling whispers:in the offices of clients, in the bank when he made a deposit, in his own office, inhis own home. interminably he wondered what they weresaying of him. all day long in imaginary conversations hecaught them marveling, "babbitt? why, say, he's a regular anarchist! you got to admire the fellow for his nerve,the way he turned liberal and, by golly, just absolutely runs his life to suithimself, but say, he's dangerous, that's
what he is, and he's got to be shown up." he was so twitchy that when he rounded acorner and chanced on two acquaintances talking--whispering--his heart leaped, andhe stalked by like an embarrassed schoolboy. when he saw his neighbors howardlittlefield and orville jones together, he peered at them, went indoors to escapetheir spying, and was miserably certain that they had been whispering--plotting--whispering. through all his fear ran defiance.he felt stubborn. sometimes he decided that he had been avery devil of a fellow, as bold as seneca
doane; sometimes he planned to call ondoane and tell him what a revolutionist he was, and never got beyond the planning. but just as often, when he heard the softwhispers enveloping him he wailed, "good lord, what have i done? just played with the bunch, and called downclarence drum about being such a high-and- mighty sodger.never catch me criticizing people and trying to make them accept my ideas!" he could not stand the strain.before long he admitted that he would like to flee back to the security of conformity,provided there was a decent and creditable
way to return. but, stubbornly, he would not be forcedback; he would not, he swore, "eat dirt." only in spirited engagements with his wifedid these turbulent fears rise to the surface. she complained that he seemed nervous, thatshe couldn't understand why he did not want to "drop in at the littlefields'" for theevening. he tried, but he could not express to herthe nebulous facts of his rebellion and punishment.and, with paul and tanis lost, he had no one to whom he could talk.
"good lord, tinka is the only real friend ihave, these days," he sighed, and he clung to the child, played floor-games with herall evening. he considered going to see paul in prison,but, though he had a pale curt note from him every week, he thought of paul as dead.it was tanis for whom he was longing. "i thought i was so smart and independent,cutting tanis out, and i need her, lord how i need her!" he raged."myra simply can't understand. all she sees in life is getting along bybeing just like other folks. but tanis, she'd tell me i was all right."then he broke, and one evening, late, he did run to tanis.
he had not dared to hope for it, but shewas in, and alone. only she wasn't tanis.she was a courteous, brow-lifting, ice- armored woman who looked like tanis. she said, "yes, george, what is it?" ineven and uninterested tones, and he crept away, whipped.his first comfort was from ted and eunice littlefield. they danced in one evening when ted washome from the university, and ted chuckled, "what's this i hear from euny, dad?she says her dad says you raised cain by boosting old seneca doane.
hot dog!give 'em fits! stir 'em up!this old burg is asleep!" eunice plumped down on babbitt's lap,kissed him, nestled her bobbed hair against his chin, and crowed; "i think you're lotsnicer than howard. why is it," confidentially, "that howard issuch an old grouch? the man has a good heart, and honestly,he's awfully bright, but he never will learn to step on the gas, after all thetraining i've given him. don't you think we could do something withhim, dearest?" "why, eunice, that isn't a nice way tospeak of your papa," babbitt observed, in
the best floral heights manner, but he washappy for the first time in weeks. he pictured himself as the veteran liberalstrengthened by the loyalty of the young generation.they went out to rifle the ice-box. babbitt gloated, "if your mother caught usat this, we'd certainly get our come- uppance!" and eunice became maternal,scrambled a terrifying number of eggs for them, kissed babbitt on the ear, and in the voice of a brooding abbess marveled, "itbeats the devil why feminists like me still go on nursing these men!" thus stimulated, babbitt was reckless whenhe encountered sheldon smeeth, educational
director of the y.m.c.a. and choir-leaderof the chatham road church. with one of his damp hands smeethimprisoned babbitt's thick paw while he chanted, "brother babbitt, we haven't seenyou at church very often lately. i know you're busy with a multitude ofdetails, but you mustn't forget your dear friends at the old church home." babbitt shook off the affectionate clasp--sheldy liked to hold hands for a long time- -and snarled, "well, i guess you fellowscan run the show without me. sorry, smeeth; got to beat it. g'day."
but afterward he winced, "if that whiteworm had the nerve to try to drag me back to the old church home, then the holyoutfit must have been doing a lot of talking about me, too." he heard them whispering--whispering--dr.john jennison drew, cholmondeley frink, even william washington eathorne. the independence seeped out of him and hewalked the streets alone, afraid of men's cynical eyes and the incessant hiss ofwhispering. chapter xxxiii ihe tried to explain to his wife, as they
prepared for bed, how objectionable wassheldon smeeth, but all her answer was, "he has such a beautiful voice--so spiritual. i don't think you ought to speak of himlike that just because you can't appreciate music!" he saw her then as a stranger; he staredbleakly at this plump and fussy woman with the broad bare arms, and wondered how shehad ever come here. in his chilly cot, turning from aching sideto side, he pondered of tanis. "he'd been a fool to lose her.he had to have somebody he could really talk to.
he'd--oh, he'd bust if he went on stewingabout things by himself. and myra, useless to expect her tounderstand. well, rats, no use dodging the issue. darn shame for two married people to driftapart after all these years; darn rotten shame; but nothing could bring themtogether now, as long as he refused to let zenith bully him into taking orders--and he was by golly not going to let anybody bullyhim into anything, or wheedle him or coax him either!" he woke at three, roused by a passingmotor, and struggled out of bed for a drink
of water.as he passed through the bedroom he heard his wife groan. his resentment was night-blurred; he wassolicitous in inquiring, "what's the trouble, hon?""i've got--such a pain down here in my side--oh, it's just--it tears at me." "bad indigestion?shall i get you some bicarb?" "don't think--that would help. i felt funny last evening and yesterday,and then--oh!--it passed away and i got to sleep and--that auto woke me up."her voice was laboring like a ship in a
storm. he was alarmed."i better call the doctor." "no, no!it'll go away. but maybe you might get me an ice-bag." he stalked to the bathroom for the ice-bag,down to the kitchen for ice. he felt dramatic in this late-nightexpedition, but as he gouged the chunk of ice with the dagger-like pick he was cool,steady, mature; and the old friendliness was in his voice as he patted the ice-bag into place on her groin, rumbling, "there,there, that'll be better now."
he retired to bed, but he did not sleep.he heard her groan again. instantly he was up, soothing her, "stillpretty bad, honey?" "yes, it just gripes me, and i can't get tosleep." her voice was faint. he knew her dread of doctors' verdicts andhe did not inform her, but he creaked down- stairs, telephoned to dr. earl patten, andwaited, shivering, trying with fuzzy eyes to read a magazine, till he heard thedoctor's car. the doctor was youngish and professionallybreezy. he came in as though it were sunnynoontime.
"well, george, little trouble, eh? how is she now?" he said busily as, withtremendous and rather irritating cheerfulness, he tossed his coat on a chairand warmed his hands at a radiator. he took charge of the house. babbitt felt ousted and unimportant as hefollowed the doctor up to the bedroom, and it was the doctor who chuckled, "oh, justlittle stomach-ache" when verona peeped through her door, begging, "what is it,dad, what is it?" to mrs. babbitt the doctor said withamiable belligerence, after his examination, "kind of a bad old pain, eh?
i'll give you something to make you sleep,and i think you'll feel better in the morning.i'll come in right after breakfast." but to babbitt, lying in wait in the lowerhall, the doctor sighed, "i don't like the feeling there in her belly.there's some rigidity and some inflammation. she's never had her appendix out has she?um. well, no use worrying.i'll be here first thing in the morning, and meantime she'll get some rest. i've given her a hypo.good night."
then was babbitt caught up in the blacktempest. instantly all the indignations which hadbeen dominating him and the spiritual dramas through which he had struggledbecame pallid and absurd before the ancient and overwhelming realities, the standard and traditional realities, of sickness andmenacing death, the long night, and the thousand steadfast implications of marriedlife. he crept back to her. as she drowsed away in the tropic languorof morphia, he sat on the edge of her bed, holding her hand, and for the first time inmany weeks her hand abode trustfully in
his. he draped himself grotesquely in histoweling bathrobe and a pink and white couch-cover, and sat lumpishly in a wing-chair. the bedroom was uncanny in its half-light,which turned the curtains to lurking robbers, the dressing-table to a turretedcastle. it smelled of cosmetics, of linen, ofsleep. he napped and woke, napped and woke, ahundred times. he heard her move and sigh in slumber; hewondered if there wasn't some officious brisk thing he could do for her, and beforehe could quite form the thought he was
asleep, racked and aching. the night was infinite. when dawn came and the waiting seemed at anend, he fell asleep, and was vexed to have been caught off his guard, to have beenaroused by verona's entrance and her agitated "oh, what is it, dad?" his wife was awake, her face sallow andlifeless in the morning light, but now he did not compare her with tanis; she was notmerely a woman, to be contrasted with other women, but his own self, and though he might criticize her and nag her, it wasonly as he might criticize and nag himself,
interestedly, unpatronizingly, without theexpectation of changing--or any real desire to change--the eternal essence. with verona he sounded fatherly again, andfirm. he consoled tinka, who satisfactorilypointed the excitement of the hour by wailing. he ordered early breakfast, and wanted tolook at the newspaper, and felt somehow heroic and useful in not looking at it. but there were still crawling and totallyunheroic hours of waiting before dr. patten returned."don't see much change," said patten.
"i'll be back about eleven, and if youdon't mind, i think i'll bring in some other world-famous pill-pedler forconsultation, just to be on the safe side. now george, there's nothing you can do. i'll have verona keep the ice-bag filled--might as well leave that on, i guess--and you, you better beat it to the officeinstead of standing around her looking as if you were the patient. the nerve of husbands!lot more neurotic than the women! they always have to horn in and get all thecredit for feeling bad when their wives are ailing.
now have another nice cup of coffee andgit!" under this derision babbitt became morematter-of-fact. he drove to the office, tried to dictateletters, tried to telephone and, before the call was answered, forgot to whom he wastelephoning. at a quarter after ten he returned home. as he left the down-town traffic and spedup the car, his face was as grimly creased as the mask of tragedy.his wife greeted him with surprise. "why did you come back, dear? i think i feel a little better.i told verona to skip off to her office.
was it wicked of me to go and get sick?"he knew that she wanted petting, and she got it, joyously. they were curiously happy when he heard dr.patten's car in front. he looked out of the window.he was frightened. with patten was an impatient man withturbulent black hair and a hussar mustache- -dr. a. i. dilling, the surgeon.babbitt sputtered with anxiety, tried to conceal it, and hurried down to the door. dr. patten was profusely casual: "don'twant to worry you, old man, but i thought it might be a good stunt to have dr.dilling examine her."
he gestured toward dilling as toward amaster. dilling nodded in his curtest manner andstrode up-stairs babbitt tramped the living-room in agony. except for his wife's confinements therehad never been a major operation in the family, and to him surgery was at once amiracle and an abomination of fear. but when dilling and patten came down againhe knew that everything was all right, and he wanted to laugh, for the two doctorswere exactly like the bearded physicians in a musical comedy, both of them rubbing their hands and looking foolishlysagacious.
dr. dilling spoke:"i'm sorry, old man, but it's acute appendicitis. we ought to operate.of course you must decide, but there's no question as to what has to be done."babbitt did not get all the force of it. he mumbled, "well i suppose we could gether ready in a couple o' days. probably ted ought to come down from theuniversity, just in case anything happened." dr. dilling growled, "nope.if you don't want peritonitis to set in, we'll have to operate right away.i must advise it strongly.
if you say go ahead, i'll 'phone for thest. mary's ambulance at once, and we'll have her on the table in three-quarters ofan hour." "i--i of course, i suppose you know what--but great god, man, i can't get her clothes ready and everything in two seconds, youknow! and in her state, so wrought-up and weak--" "just throw her hair-brush and comb andtooth-brush in a bag; that's all she'll need for a day or two," said dr. dilling,and went to the telephone. babbitt galloped desperately up-stairs. he sent the frightened tinka out of theroom.
he said gaily to his wife, "well, oldthing, the doc thinks maybe we better have a little operation and get it over. just take a few minutes--not half asserious as a confinement--and you'll be all right in a jiffy."she gripped his hand till the fingers ached. she said patiently, like a cowed child,"i'm afraid--to go into the dark, all alone!"maturity was wiped from her eyes; they were pleading and terrified. "will you stay with me?darling, you don't have to go to the office
now, do you?could you just go down to the hospital with me? could you come see me this evening--ifeverything's all right? you won't have to go out this evening, willyou?" he was on his knees by the bed. while she feebly ruffled his hair, hesobbed, he kissed the lawn of her sleeve, and swore, "old honey, i love you more thananything in the world! i've kind of been worried by business andeverything, but that's all over now, and i'm back again.""are you really?
george, i was thinking, lying here, maybeit would be a good thing if i just went. i was wondering if anybody really neededme. or wanted me. i was wondering what was the use of myliving. i've been getting so stupid and ugly--""why, you old humbug! fishing for compliments when i ought to bepacking your bag! me, sure, i'm young and handsome and aregular village cut-up and--" he could not go on. he sobbed again; and in mutteredincoherencies they found each other.
as he packed, his brain was curiously clearand swift. he'd have no more wild evenings, herealized. he admitted that he would regret them. a little grimly he perceived that this hadbeen his last despairing fling before the paralyzed contentment of middle-age.well, and he grinned impishly, "it was one doggone good party while it lasted!" and--how much was the operation going tocost? "i ought to have fought that out withdilling. but no, damn it, i don't care how much itcosts!"
the motor ambulance was at the door. even in his grief the babbitt who admiredall technical excellences was interested in the kindly skill with which the attendantsslid mrs. babbitt upon a stretcher and carried her down-stairs. the ambulance was a huge, suave, varnished,white thing. mrs. babbitt moaned, "it frightens me.it's just like a hearse, just like being put in a hearse. i want you to stay with me.""i'll be right up front with the driver," babbitt promised."no, i want you to stay inside with me."
to the attendants: "can't he be inside?" "sure, ma'am, you bet.there's a fine little camp-stool in there," the older attendant said, with professionalpride. he sat beside her in that traveling cabinwith its cot, its stool, its active little electric radiator, and its quiteunexplained calendar, displaying a girl eating cherries, and the name of anenterprising grocer. but as he flung out his hand in hopelesscheerfulness it touched the radiator, and he squealed: "ouch!jesus!"
"why, george babbitt, i won't have youcursing and swearing and blaspheming!" "i know, awful sorry but--gosh all fish-hooks, look how i burned my hand! gee whiz, it hurts!it hurts like the mischief! why, that damn radiator is hot as--it's hotas--it's hotter 'n the hinges of hades! look!you can see the mark!" so, as they drove up to st. mary'shospital, with the nurses already laying out the instruments for an operation tosave her life, it was she who consoled him and kissed the place to make it well, and though he tried to be gruff and mature, heyielded to her and was glad to be babied.
the ambulance whirled under the hoodedcarriage-entrance of the hospital, and instantly he was reduced to a zero in thenightmare succession of cork-floored halls, endless doors open on old women sitting up in bed, an elevator, the anesthetizingroom, a young interne contemptuous of husbands. he was permitted to kiss his wife; he saw athin dark nurse fit the cone over her mouth and nose; he stiffened at a sweet andtreacherous odor; then he was driven out, and on a high stool in a laboratory he sat dazed, longing to see her once again, toinsist that he had always loved her, had
never for a second loved anybody else orlooked at anybody else. in the laboratory he was conscious only ofa decayed object preserved in a bottle of yellowing alcohol.it made him very sick, but he could not take his eyes from it. he was more aware of it than of waiting.his mind floated in abeyance, coming back always to that horrible bottle. to escape it he opened the door to theright, hoping to find a sane and business- like office. he realized that he was looking into theoperating-room; in one glance he took in
dr. dilling, strange in white gown andbandaged head, bending over the steel table with its screws and wheels, then nurses holding basins and cotton sponges, and aswathed thing, just a lifeless chin and a mound of white in the midst of which was asquare of sallow flesh with a gash a little bloody at the edges, protruding from the gash a cluster of forceps like clingingparasites. he shut the door with haste. it may be that his frightened repentance ofthe night and morning had not eaten in, but this dehumanizing interment of her who hadbeen so pathetically human shook him
utterly, and as he crouched again on the high stool in the laboratory he swore faithto his wife...to zenith...to business efficiency...to the boosters' club...toevery faith of the clan of good fellows. then a nurse was soothing, "all over! perfect success!she'll come out fine! she'll be out from under the anestheticsoon, and you can see her." he found her on a curious tilted bed, herface an unwholesome yellow but her purple lips moving slightly.then only did he really believe that she was alive.
she was muttering.he bent, and heard her sighing, "hard get real maple syrup for pancakes." he laughed inexhaustibly; he beamed on thenurse and proudly confided, "think of her talking about maple syrup!by golly, i'm going to go and order a hundred gallons of it, right from vermont!" iishe was out of the hospital in seventeen days. he went to see her each afternoon, and intheir long talks they drifted back to intimacy.
once he hinted something of his relationsto tanis and the bunch, and she was inflated by the view that a wicked womanhad captivated her poor george. if once he had doubted his neighbors andthe supreme charm of the good fellows, he was convinced now. you didn't, he noted, "see seneca doanecoming around with any flowers or dropping in to chat with the missus," but mrs.howard littlefield brought to the hospital her priceless wine jelly (flavored with real wine); orville jones spent hours inpicking out the kind of novels mrs. babbitt liked--nice love stories about new yorkmillionaries and wyoming cowpunchers;
louetta swanson knitted a pink bed-jacket; sidney finkelstein and his merry brown-eyedflapper of a wife selected the prettiest nightgown in all the stock of parcher andstein. all his friends ceased whispering abouthim, suspecting him. at the athletic club they asked after herdaily. club members whose names he did not knowstopped him to inquire, "how's your good lady getting on?" babbitt felt that he was swinging frombleak uplands down into the rich warm air of a valley pleasant with cottages.one noon vergil gunch suggested, "you
planning to be at the hospital about six? the wife and i thought we'd drop in."they did drop in. gunch was so humorous that mrs. babbittsaid he must "stop making her laugh because honestly it was hurting her incision." as they passed down the hall gunch demandedamiably, "george, old scout, you were soreheaded about something, here a whileback. i don't know why, and it's none of mybusiness. but you seem to be feeling all hunky-doryagain, and why don't you come join us in the good citizens' league, old man?
we have some corking times together, and weneed your advice." then did babbitt, almost tearful with joyat being coaxed instead of bullied, at being permitted to stop fighting, at beingable to desert without injuring his opinion of himself, cease utterly to be a domesticrevolutionist. he patted gunch's shoulder, and next day hebecame a member of the good citizens' league. within two weeks no one in the league wasmore violent regarding the wickedness of seneca doane, the crimes of labor unions,the perils of immigration, and the delights of golf, morality, and bank-accounts thanwas george f. babbitt.
chapter xxxiv the good citizens' league had spreadthrough the country, but nowhere was it so effective and well esteemed as in cities ofthe type of zenith, commercial cities of a few hundred thousand inhabitants, most of which--though not all--lay inland, againsta background of cornfields and mines and of small towns which depended upon them formortgage-loans, table-manners, art, social philosophy and millinery. to the league belonged most of theprosperous citizens of zenith. they were not all of the kind who calledthemselves "regular guys."
besides these hearty fellows, thesesalesmen of prosperity, there were the aristocrats, that is, the men who werericher or had been rich for more generations: the presidents of banks and of factories, the land-owners, the corporationlawyers, the fashionable doctors, and the few young-old men who worked not at allbut, reluctantly remaining in zenith, collected luster-ware and first editions asthough they were back in paris. all of them agreed that the working-classesmust be kept in their place; and all of them perceived that american democracy didnot imply any equality of wealth, but did demand a wholesome sameness of thought,dress, painting, morals, and vocabulary.
in this they were like the ruling-class ofany other country, particularly of great britain, but they differed in being morevigorous and in actually trying to produce the accepted standards which all classes, everywhere, desire, but usually despair ofrealizing. the longest struggle of the good citizens'league was against the open shop--which was secretly a struggle against all unionlabor. accompanying it was an americanizationmovement, with evening classes in english and history and economics, and dailyarticles in the newspapers, so that newly arrived foreigners might learn that thetrue-blue and one hundred per cent.
american way of settling labor-troubles wasfor workmen to trust and love their employers. the league was more than generous inapproving other organizations which agreed with its aims. it helped the y.m.c.a. to raise a two-hundred-thousand-dollar fund for a new building. babbitt, vergil gunch, sidney finkelstein,and even charles mckelvey told the spectators at movie theaters how great aninfluence for manly christianity the "good old y." had been in their own lives; and
the hoar and mighty colonel rutherfordsnow, owner of the advocate-times, was photographed clasping the hand of sheldonsmeeth of the y.m.c.a. it is true that afterward, when smeethlisped, "you must come to one of our prayer-meetings," the ferocious colonelbellowed, "what the hell would i do that for? i've got a bar of my own," but this did notappear in the public prints. the league was of value to the americanlegion at a time when certain of the lesser and looser newspapers were criticizing thatorganization of veterans of the great war. one evening a number of young men raidedthe zenith socialist headquarters, burned
its records, beat the office staff, andagreeably dumped desks out of the window. all of the newspapers save the advocate-times and the evening advocate attributed this valuable but perhaps hasty direct-action to the american legion. then a flying squadron from the goodcitizens' league called on the unfair papers and explained that no ex-soldiercould possibly do such a thing, and the editors saw the light, and retained theiradvertising. when zenith's lone conscientious objectorcame home from prison and was righteously run out of town, the newspapers referred tothe perpetrators as an "unidentified mob." in all the activities and triumphs of thegood citizens' league babbitt took part,
and completely won back to self-respect,placidity, and the affection of his friends. but he began to protest, "gosh, i've donemy share in cleaning up the city. i want to tend to business.think i'll just kind of slacken up on this g.c.l. stuff now." he had returned to the church as he hadreturned to the boosters' club. he had even endured the lavish greetingwhich sheldon smeeth gave him. he was worried lest during his latediscontent he had imperiled his salvation. he was not quite sure there was a heaven tobe attained, but dr. john jennison drew
said there was, and babbitt was not goingto take a chance. one evening when he was walking past dr.drew's parsonage he impulsively went in and found the pastor in his study. "jus' minute--getting 'phone call," saiddr. drew in businesslike tones, then, aggressively, to the telephone: "'lo--'lo!this berkey and hannis? reverend drew speaking. where the dickens is the proof for nextsunday's calendar? huh?y' ought to have it here. well, i can't help it if they're all sick!
i got to have it to-night.get an a.d.t. boy and shoot it up here quick."he turned, without slackening his briskness. "well, brother babbitt, what c'n i do foryou?" "i just wanted to ask--tell you how it is,dominie: here a while ago i guess i got kind of slack. took a few drinks and so on.what i wanted to ask is: how is it if a fellow cuts that all out and comes back tohis senses? does it sort of, well, you might say, doesit score against him in the long run?"
the reverend dr. drew was suddenlyinterested. "and, uh, brother--the other things, too? women?""no, practically, you might say, practically not at all.""don't hesitate to tell me, brother! that's what i'm here for. been going on joy-rides?squeezing girls in cars?" the reverend eyes glistened."no--no--" "well, i'll tell you. i've got a deputation from the don't makeprohibition a joke association coming to
see me in a quarter of an hour, and onefrom the anti-birth-control union at a quarter of ten." he busily glanced at his watch."but i can take five minutes off and pray with you.kneel right down by your chair, brother. don't be ashamed to seek the guidance ofgod." babbitt's scalp itched and he longed toflee, but dr. drew had already flopped down beside his desk-chair and his voice hadchanged from rasping efficiency to an unctuous familiarity with sin and with thealmighty. babbitt also knelt, while drew gloated:
"o lord, thou seest our brother here, whohas been led astray by manifold temptations.o heavenly father, make his heart to be pure, as pure as a little child's. oh, let him know again the joy of a manlycourage to abstain from evil--" sheldon smeeth came frolicking into thestudy. at the sight of the two men he smirked,forgivingly patted babbitt on the shoulder, and knelt beside him, his arm about him,while he authorized dr. drew's imprecations with moans of "yes, lord! help our brother, lord!"
though he was trying to keep his eyesclosed, babbitt squinted between his fingers and saw the pastor glance at hiswatch as he concluded with a triumphant, "and let him never be afraid to come to us for counsel and tender care, and let himknow that the church can lead him as a little lamb." dr. drew sprang up, rolled his eyes in thegeneral direction of heaven, chucked his watch into his pocket, and demanded, "hasthe deputation come yet, sheldy?" "yep, right outside," sheldy answered, withequal liveliness; then, caressingly, to babbitt, "brother, if it would help, i'dlove to go into the next room and pray with
you while dr. drew is receiving the brothers from the don't make prohibition ajoke association." "no--no thanks--can't take the time!"yelped babbitt, rushing toward the door. thereafter he was often seen at the chathamroad presbyterian church, but it is recorded that he avoided shaking hands withthe pastor at the door. if his moral fiber had been so weakened byrebellion that he was not quite dependable in the more rigorous campaigns of the goodcitizens' league nor quite appreciative of the church, yet there was no doubt of the joy with which babbitt returned to thepleasures of his home and of the athletic
club, the boosters, the elks.verona and kenneth escott were eventually and hesitatingly married. for the wedding babbitt was dressed ascarefully as was verona; he was crammed into the morning-coat he wore to teasthrice a year; and with a certain relief, after verona and kenneth had driven away in a limousine, he returned to the house,removed the morning coat, sat with his aching feet up on the davenport, andreflected that his wife and he could have the living-room to themselves now, and not have to listen to verona and kennethworrying, in a cultured collegiate manner,
about minimum wages and the drama league. but even this sinking into peace was lessconsoling than his return to being one of the best-loved men in the boosters' club. president willis ijams began that boosters'club luncheon by standing quiet and staring at them so unhappily that they feared hewas about to announce the death of a brother booster. he spoke slowly then, and gravely:"boys, i have something shocking to reveal to you; something terrible about one of ourown members." several boosters, including babbitt, lookeddisconcerted.
"a knight of the grip, a trusted friend ofmine, recently made a trip up-state, and in a certain town, where a certain boosterspent his boyhood, he found out something which can no longer be concealed. in fact, he discovered the inward nature ofa man whom we have accepted as a real guy and as one of us.gentlemen, i cannot trust my voice to say it, so i have written it down." he uncovered a large blackboard and on it,in huge capitals, was the legend: george follansbee babbitt--oh you folly! the boosters cheered, they laughed, theywept, they threw rolls at babbitt, they
cried, "speech, speech!oh you folly!" president ijams continued: "that, gentlemen, is the awful thinggeorgie babbitt has been concealing all these years, when we thought he was justplain george f. now i want you to tell us, taking it in turn, what you've alwayssupposed the f. stood for." flivver, they suggested, and frog-face andflathead and farinaceous and freezone and flapdoodle and foghorn. by the joviality of their insults babbittknew that he had been taken back to their hearts, and happily he rose."boys, i've got to admit it.
i've never worn a wrist-watch, or parted myname in the middle, but i will confess to 'follansbee.' my only justification is that my old dad--though otherwise he was perfectly sane, and packed an awful wallop when it came totrimming the city fellers at checkers-- named me after the family doc, old dr.ambrose follansbee. i apologize, boys. in my next what-d'you-call-it i'll see toit that i get named something really practical--something that sounds swell andyet is good and virile--something, in fact, like that grand old name so familiar to
every household--that bold and almostoverpowering name, willis jimjams ijams!" he knew by the cheer that he was secureagain and popular; he knew that he would no more endanger his security and popularityby straying from the clan of good fellows. vhenry thompson dashed into the office, clamoring, "george!big news! jake offutt says the traction bunch aredissatisfied with the way sanders, torrey and wing handled their last deal, andthey're willing to dicker with us!" babbitt was pleased in the realization thatthe last scar of his rebellion was healed, yet as he drove home he was annoyed by suchbackground thoughts as had never weakened
him in his days of belligerent conformity. he discovered that he actually did notconsider the traction group quite honest. "well, he'd carry out one more deal forthem, but as soon as it was practicable, maybe as soon as old henry thompson died,he'd break away from all association from them. he was forty-eight; in twelve years he'd besixty; he wanted to leave a clean business to his grandchildren. course there was a lot of money innegotiating for the traction people, and a fellow had to look at things in a practicalway, only--" he wriggled uncomfortably.
he wanted to tell the traction group whathe thought of them. "oh, he couldn't do it, not now.if he offended them this second time, they would crush him. but--"he was conscious that his line of progress seemed confused.he wondered what he would do with his future. he was still young; was he through with alladventuring? he felt that he had been trapped into thevery net from which he had with such fury escaped and, supremest jest of all, beenmade to rejoice in the trapping.
"they've licked me; licked me to a finish!"he whimpered. the house was peaceful, that evening, andhe enjoyed a game of pinochle with his wife. he indignantly told the tempter that he wascontent to do things in the good old fashioned way. the day after, he went to see thepurchasing-agent of the street traction company and they made plans for the secretpurchase of lots along the evanston road. but as he drove to his office he struggled,"i'm going to run things and figure out things to suit myself--when i retire."
vited had come down from the university for the week-end. though he no longer spoke of mechanicalengineering and though he was reticent about his opinion of his instructors, heseemed no more reconciled to college, and his chief interest was his wirelesstelephone set. on saturday evening he took eunicelittlefield to a dance at devon woods. babbitt had a glimpse of her, bouncing inthe seat of the car, brilliant in a scarlet cloak over a frock of thinnest creamy silk.they two had not returned when the babbitts went to bed, at half-past eleven.
at a blurred indefinite time of late nightbabbitt was awakened by the ring of the telephone and gloomily crawled down-stairs.howard littlefield was speaking: "george, euny isn't back yet. is ted?""no--at least his door is open--" "they ought to be home.eunice said the dance would be over at midnight. what's the name of those people wherethey're going?" "why, gosh, tell the truth, i don't know,howard. it's some classmate of ted's, out in devonwoods.
don't see what we can do.wait, i'll skip up and ask myra if she knows their name." babbitt turned on the light in ted's room.it was a brown boyish room; disordered dresser, worn books, a high-school pennant,photographs of basket-ball teams and baseball teams. ted was decidedly not there. mrs. babbitt, awakened, irritably observedthat she certainly did not know the name of ted's host, that it was late, that howardlittlefield was but little better than a born fool, and that she was sleepy.
but she remained awake and worrying whilebabbitt, on the sleeping-porch, struggled back into sleep through the incessant softrain of her remarks. it was after dawn when he was aroused byher shaking him and calling "george! george!" in something like horror."wha--wha--what is it?" "come here quick and see. be quiet!"she led him down the hall to the door of ted's room and pushed it gently open. on the worn brown rug he saw a froth ofrose-colored chiffon lingerie; on the sedate morris chair a girl's silverslipper.
and on the pillows were two sleepy heads--ted's and eunice's. ted woke to grin, and to mutter withunconvincing defiance, "good morning! let me introduce my wife--mrs. theodoreroosevelt eunice littlefield babbitt, esquiress.""good god!" from babbitt, and from his wife a long wailing, "you've gone and--" "we got married last evening.wife! sit up and say a pretty good morning tomother-in-law." but eunice hid her shoulders and hercharming wild hair under the pillow. by nine o'clock the assembly which wasgathered about ted and eunice in the
living-room included mr. and mrs. georgebabbitt, dr. and mrs. howard littlefield, mr. and mrs. kenneth escott, mr. and mrs. henry t. thompson, and tinka babbitt, whowas the only pleased member of the inquisition.a crackling shower of phrases filled the room: "at their age--" "ought to be annulled--""never heard of such a thing in--" "fault of both of them and--" "keep it out of thepapers--" "ought to be packed off to school--" "do something about it at once, and what i say is--" "damn good old-fashioned spanking--"
worst of them all was verona."ted! some way must be found to make youunderstand how dreadfully serious this is, instead of standing around with that sillyfoolish smile on your face!" he began to revolt. "gee whittakers, rone, you got marriedyourself, didn't you?" "that's entirely different.""you bet it is! they didn't have to work on eu and me witha chain and tackle to get us to hold hands!""now, young man, we'll have no more flippancy," old henry thompson ordered.
"you listen to me.""you listen to grandfather!" said verona. "yes, listen to your grandfather!" saidmrs. babbitt. "ted, you listen to mr. thompson!" saidhoward littlefield. "oh, for the love o' mike, i am listening!"ted shouted. "but you look here, all of you! i'm getting sick and tired of being thecorpse in this post mortem! if you want to kill somebody, go kill thepreacher that married us! why, he stung me five dollars, and all themoney i had in the world was six dollars and two bits.i'm getting just about enough of being
hollered at!" a new voice, booming, authoritative,dominated the room. it was babbitt."yuh, there's too darn many putting in their oar! rone, you dry up.howard and i are still pretty strong, and able to do our own cussing.ted, come into the dining-room and we'll talk this over." in the dining-room, the door firmly closed,babbitt walked to his son, put both hands on his shoulders."you're more or less right.
they all talk too much. now what do you plan to do, old man?""gosh, dad, are you really going to be human?" "well, i--remember one time you called us'the babbitt men' and said we ought to stick together?i want to. i don't pretend to think this isn'tserious. the way the cards are stacked against ayoung fellow to-day, i can't say i approve of early marriages. but you couldn't have married a better girlthan eunice; and way i figure it,
littlefield is darn lucky to get a babbittfor a son-in-law! but what do you plan to do? course you could go right ahead with theu., and when you'd finished--" "dad, i can't stand it any more.maybe it's all right for some fellows. maybe i'll want to go back some day. but me, i want to get into mechanics.i think i'd get to be a good inventor. there's a fellow that would give me twentydollars a week in a factory right now." "well--" babbitt crossed the floor, slowly,ponderously, seeming a little old. "i've always wanted you to have a collegedegree."
he meditatively stamped across the flooragain. "but i've never--now, for heaven's sake,don't repeat this to your mother, or she'd remove what little hair i've got left, butpractically, i've never done a single thing i've wanted to in my whole life! i don't know 's i've accomplished anythingexcept just get along. i figure out i've made about a quarter ofan inch out of a possible hundred rods. well, maybe you'll carry things on further. i don't know.but i do get a kind of sneaking pleasure out of the fact that you knew what youwanted to do and did it.
well, those folks in there will try tobully you, and tame you down. tell 'em to go to the devil!i'll back you. take your factory job, if you want to. don't be scared of the family.no, nor all of zenith. nor of yourself, the way i've been.go ahead, old man! the world is yours!" arms about each other's shoulders, thebabbitt men marched into the living-room and faced the swooping family.