"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 where they're
going?"
"Why, gosh, tell the truth, I don't know, Howard.
It's some classmate of Ted's, out in Devon Woods. 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 observed that she
certainly did not know the name of Ted's host, that it was late,
that Howard Littlefield was but little better than a born fool, and
that she was sleepy. But she remained awake and worrying while
Babbitt, on the sleeping-porch, struggled back into sleep through
the incessant soft rain of her remarks. It was after dawn when he
was aroused by her 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 of
rose-colored chiffon lingerie; on the sedate Morris chair a girl's
silver slipper. And on the pillows were two sleepy heads - Ted's
and Eunice's.
Ted woke to grin, and to mutter with unconvincing
defiance, "Good morning! Let me introduce my wife - Mrs. Theodore
Roosevelt 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 to mother-in-law."
But Eunice hid her shoulders and her charming wild
hair under the pillow.
By nine o'clock the assembly which was gathered
about Ted and Eunice in the living-room included Mr. and Mrs.
George Babbitt, Dr. and Mrs. Howard Littlefield, Mr. and Mrs.
Kenneth Escott, Mr. and Mrs. Henry T. Thompson, and Tinka Babbitt,
who was 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 the papers - " "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 you understand how dreadfully SERIOUS this is,
instead of standing AROUND with that silly foolish SMILE on your
face!"
He began to revolt. "Gee whittakers, Rone, you got
married yourself, didn't you?"
"That's entirely different."
"You bet it is! They didn't have to work on Eu and
me with a 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!" said Mrs.
Babbitt.
"Ted, you listen to Mr. Thompson!" said Howard
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 the corpse in this post mortem! If you want to kill
somebody, go kill the preacher that married us! Why, he stung me
five dollars, and all the money 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't serious. The way the cards are
stacked against a young fellow to-day, I can't say I approve of
early marriages. But you couldn't have married a better girl than
Eunice; and way I figure it, Littlefield is darn lucky to get a
Babbitt for a son-in-law! But what do you plan to do? Course you
could go right ahead with the U., 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 twenty dollars 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 college degree." He meditatively stamped across the floor again.
"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, but
practically, I've never done a single thing I've wanted to in my
whole life! I don't know 's I've accomplished anything except just
get along. I figure out I've made about a quarter of an 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 you wanted to do and did it. Well,
those folks in there will try to bully 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, the Babbitt men
marched into the living-room and faced the swooping family.
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ISBN : 1-4121-5773-0