my youngest came up smiling recently.
Really, I am worried about that little chap, because I never know whether he is going to be a fool or a humorist.
Perhaps it doesn't matter much.
On this occasion he had had his first ride in an automobile.
A fellow around the corner bought one recently, and as he wants to get in my good graces for some reason or other, he asked Harold to go through the park with him.
That evening I heard my wife, who is very circumspect in all such matters of etiquette, say:
"Harold, did you thank Mr. Gaycrank for that lovely ride he gave you?"
Harold was reading but did not answer.
So she asked him again.
I knew he heard from the way he looked up, but was surprised that he made no reply.
"Harold!" she spoke sharply, now.
"Yes, ma," he replied.
"Did you thank Mr. Gaycrank for taking you riding? Why don't you answer me?"
"I did thank him, ma," whispered Harold, "but he told me not to mention it."
Harold was studying geography.
I saw something puzzled him.
"What's the knotty problem?" I asked him.
"They call the Mississippi the 'Father of waters,'" he said, "and I think it ought to be the 'Mother of waters.'"
"Correct, my son," I said, admiringly.
"Is Missouri the daughter of Mississippi then?" he asked.
I'm afraid I have much to answer for.
And think of it, that boy only nine years old.
What will become of us when he breaks loose at man's estate?
Just this morning he astonished me by declaring the dictionary was only an old joke book after all.
I frowned upon such levity.
The dictionary I look upon as an old and valued friend, and one deserving of the utmost respect.
It has pulled me out of many a difficulty.
"Nonsense, I'll give you a dime for every bona fide joke you show me in the dictionary," I said.
"All right, here's one already."
He pointed out the word "question."
Reading further I found this:
"To pop the question – see pop."
Well, I never begrudged that dime a bit. And my respect for that solemn old conglomeration of knowledge is now mingled with hilarity.
Since I'm in on the subject of young ones, let me tell you that I've always endeavored to impress my children with the fact that I take an interest in all they do.
That is, I want them to come to me with all their troubles, and gain by my checkered experience.
Sort of older brother confidence game, you know.
Once in a while I'm rather afraid they take advantage of my easy-going character.
There's Aleck, about sixteen, and almost ready to go to college – what d'ye think he said to me yesterday.
Catching me in a particularly good frame of mind, when a big check had just come in, he said in a serious tone:
"Will you advise me, pop?"
"Certainly – only too delighted, my son. Now, what is it you want my opinion upon?" I said, feeling particularly pleased because of this confidence.
"Well, you see, I wanted to know whether I had better strike you for five dollars or for ten?"
There's no use in telling you how much he got, for who could resist such a clever hold up?
Oh, by the way, did I ever tell you about Jackman?
Among my friends I suppose he is by long odds the most consequential – why, he has the strut of a Lord High Admiral in a comic opera.
That is, when before the public.
Secretly, I believe he leads a sort of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde life, and that the power behind the throne is in reality his wife, a little woman with a will of her own.
This was proven to my mind the day I was out with him at his country seat.
His coachman came up, looking red in the face, as though out of humor.
"I think I must leave you, Mr. Jackman," said he.
"Why, what's wrong, Thomas?"
"I don't like to complain, sir, but really I can't stand the missus."
"Oh, is that it – she's too strict, eh?" laughed Jackman.
"Yes, sir, she keeps forgetting that I can throw up my job at any time, and bosses me around just as if I was you, sir."
I thought it good manners to get behind the stable before I allowed myself to laugh.
But Thomas went all the same.
Jackman told me Thomas had recently got religion and was about the longest-winded petitioner at prayer he ever knew. But I had been South among the darkies, and remembered one old fellow, at least, who could give him points and still win out.
This was old Uncle Mose, who looked solemn enough for a funeral when I asked him how things were going.
"I declar'," he said, "I got ter be mo' keerful in future – I sho' has!"
"What's the trouble now?" I asked.
"Well, suh, I whirled in en prayed fer rain dese two hours en a half, en bless de Lawd, dey come along a regular deluge, dat mighty nigh drown de bes' mule I had. Prov'dence am so partial ter me, dat I'se got ter be mo' keerful about overdoin' things, you see."
Uncle Mose had a son who, being a barber, puts on considerable style at times.
I'd seen him look like a howling swell.
One day, down at the post office, while waiting for the mail to be distributed, I saw this Adolphus saunter in.
Another young gamecock rubbed elbows with him.
"Hullo, 'Dolphus, you'se ain't been a wearin' dem fine patent-leather shoes ob yours no mo'. What am de matter?" I heard him ask.
"Kain't – de patent done run out," said Adolphus.
That fellow was quite good looking, and in fact I can remember quite enjoying him after a fashion.
I don't believe I've ever been called a handsome man myself.
That
