Babbitt

more chicken-the idea!" and he appreciated the genius of T. Cholmondeley Frink, but the vigor of the cocktails was gone

ood came from bakeries and delicatessens. They had but two, one, or no children; and despite the myth that the Great War had made work respectable, their husbands objected to their "wasting time and getting a lot of crank ideas" in unpaid social work, and still more to their causing a rumor, by earning money, that they were not adequately supported. They wor

the Swansons were

about his wife's new frock. It was, he submitted, too short, too low

of that rag Louetta went and boug

Eddie? I call it a

. It's a sweet frock,"

authority on clothes!" Louetta raged, while t

see you not wearing out a whole closetful of clothes you got already. I've expressed my idea about this before, and yo

eat this stuff," he groaned-while he went on eating, while he gulped down a chill and glutinous slice of the ice-cream brick, and cocoanut cake as oozy as shaving-cream. He felt as though h

t he was again tasting the sickly welter of melted ice cream on his plate. There was no magic in his friends; he was not uplifted when Howard Littlefield produced from his treasure-house of scholarship the information that the chemical symbol for raw rubber is

ainfully smothered, seemed to be suffering from the toil of social life and the horror o

with Paul Riesling beside a lake in Maine. It was as overpowering and imaginative as homesickness. He had never seen Maine, yet he beheld the shrouded mountai

Swanson did n

hem (save the women of his own family) were "different" and "mysterious." Yet he had known by instinct that Louetta Swanson could be approached. Her eyes and lips were moist. Her face tapered from a broad forehead to a pointed chin, her mouth was thin but strong and avi

allantry, that sonorous Floral Heights gallantry which is not flirtation but a ter

m

kind of on

et so sic

ed of hubby, you can ru

n away-O

l you your hands

her sleeves over them, but otherwise she did not

ed back to the bridge-tables. He was not much thrilled when Mrs. Frink, a small twittering woman, proposed that they

things material, they took command and cried, "Oh, let's!" In the dimness the men were rather solemn and foolish, but the goodwives qui

interest in life as Louetta Swanson's

t disembodied. Mrs. Gunch squeaked, and they jumped with unnatural jocularity, but at Frink's hiss they sank into subdued awe. Suddenly, incredib

e?" A thud. "Is one knock to be the sign fo

ide to put us into communication with the spiri

lk to Dante! We studied him at the Read

Wop poet. Where do you think I was

Hell. I've never waded through his po'try, but

nnnty!" intone

. Frink, you and he being fell

ld-timer-not that I've actually read him, of course-but to come right down to hard facts, he wouldn't stand one-two-three

. Judas Priest, I could write poetry myself if I had a whole year for i

emerge forth into the, uh, the ultimates and bring hither the s

felt that this was irreligious. And besides-"probably it was just Chum making the knocks, but still, if there di

nte had come to the parl

answer their questions. He was "gl

ng through the alphabet till the spirit

arned tone, "Do you like i

nor. We are glad that you are studying this

g of stays and shirt-fronts. "Suppose

r Guy; he belonged to the Chatham Road Presbyterian Church and went to the Boosters' lunches and liked cigars and motors and racy stories. But suppose

med after me-are gettin' along, and don't they wish they could get into the movie game!" he blared, and instantly all was m

Dante made h

darkness, he pondered, "I don't-We're all so flip and think we're so smart. There'd be-

tere figure. He was dismayed by a sudden contempt for his surest friends. He grasped Louetta Swanson's hand, and found the com

demanded of Frink, "Say, see if you can get old Dant' to spiel us some of his poetry. Talk up to

think out-But the psychical research had started them off again. ("Why didn't they go home! Why didn't they go home!") Though he was impressed by the profundity of the statement, he was only half-enthusiastic when Howard Littlefield lectured, "The United States is the only nation in which the government is a Moral Ideal and not just a social arrangement." ("True-true-weren't they EVER going home?") He was usually delighte

with a flutter of "We

dn't hardly think I'd last out." He prepared to taste that most delicate pleasure of the host: making fun of his guests in the re

wasn't it! I know they enjoyed ever

een like sneering at a happy child. He lied ponderou

d honestly I thought the fr

s taste. Best fried chicken I

fully! And don't you think th

But his voice was seeping away. They stood in the hall, under the electric light

ound-you sound as if you

id! Cours

! What

pounding pretty hard at the office.

h-" Then he was pouring it out nakedly, robbed of reticence. "M

you have to meet in N

nt to hit Maine early-get in a little fishing, catch m

can run the house between them, and you and I

I thought maybe it might be a good thing if I k

earnest to be tragic, or gloriously insulted, or anything save dump

s system." He tried to sound paternal. "Then when you and the kids arrive-I figured maybe I might skip up to Maine just a few days ahead of you-I'd be ready for a real bat, see how I mean?" He coaxed her

from her face. "Do I bother you when we go on

yes! Hell, yes! But can't you understand I'm shot to pieces? I'm all in! I got to tak

aul to go along, and you boys just fish and have a good time?" She patted his shoulder-reaching up to it-while he

go, and pop into bed. We'll fix it al

g, reduced to primitive terror, comprehending that he had won freedom, and won