I
HE forgot Paul Riesling in an afternoon of not unagreeable details. After a return to his office, which seemed to have staggered on without him, he drove a “prospect” out to view a four-flat tenement1 in the Linton district. He was inspired by the customer's admiration2 of the new cigar-lighter. Thrice its novelty made him use it, and thrice he hurled3 half-smoked cigarettes from the car, protesting, “I GOT to quit smoking so blame much!”
Their ample discussion of every detail of the cigar-lighter led them to speak of electric flat-irons and bed-warmers. Babbitt apologized for being so shabbily old-fashioned as still to use a hot-water bottle, and he announced that he would have the sleeping-porch wired at once. He had enormous and poetic4 admiration, though very little understanding, of all mechanical devices. They were his symbols of truth and beauty. Regarding each new intricate mechanism—metal lathe6, two-jet carburetor, machine gun, oxyacetylene welder—he learned one good realistic-sounding phrase, and used it over and over, with a delightful7 feeling of being technical and initiated8.
The customer joined him in the worship of machinery10, and they came buoyantly up to the tenement and began that examination of plastic slate11 roof, kalamein doors, and seven-eighths-inch blind-nailed flooring, began those diplomacies of hurt surprise and readiness to be persuaded to do something they had already decided12 to do, which would some day result in a sale.
On the way back Babbitt picked up his partner and father-in-law, Henry T. Thompson, at his kitchen-cabinet works, and they drove through South Zenith, a high-colored, banging, exciting region: new factories of hollow tile with gigantic wire-glass windows, surly old red-brick factories stained with tar13, high-perched water-tanks, big red trucks like locomotives, and, on a score of hectic14 side-tracks, far-wandering freight-cars from the New York Central and apple orchards15, the Great Northern and wheat-plateaus, the Southern Pacific and orange groves16.
They talked to the secretary of the Zenith Foundry Company about an interesting artistic17 project—a cast-iron fence for Linden Lane Cemetery18. They drove on to the Zeeco Motor Company and interviewed the sales-manager, Noel Ryland, about a discount on a Zeeco car for Thompson. Babbitt and Ryland were fellow-members of the Boosters' Club, and no Booster felt right if he bought anything from another Booster without receiving a discount. But Henry Thompson growled19, “Oh, t' hell with 'em! I'm not going to crawl around mooching discounts, not from nobody.” It was one of the differences between Thompson, the old-fashioned, lean Yankee, rugged21, traditional, stage type of American business man, and Babbitt, the plump, smooth, efficient, up-to-the-minute and otherwise perfected modern. Whenever Thompson twanged, “Put your John Hancock on that line,” Babbitt was as much amused by the antiquated22 provincialism as any proper Englishman by any American. He knew himself to be of a breeding altogether more esthetic23 and sensitive than Thompson's. He was a college graduate, he played golf, he often smoked cigarettes instead of cigars, and when he went to Chicago he took a room with a private bath. “The whole thing is,” he explained to Paul Riesling, “these old codgers lack the subtlety24 that you got to have to-day.”
This advance in civilization could be carried too far, Babbitt perceived. Noel Ryland, sales-manager of the Zeeco, was a frivolous25 graduate of Princeton, while Babbitt was a sound and standard ware26 from that great department-store, the State University. Ryland wore spats27, he wrote long letters about City Planning and Community Singing, and, though he was a Booster, he was known to carry in his pocket small volumes of poetry in a foreign language. All this was going too far. Henry Thompson was the extreme of insularity28, and Noel Ryland the extreme of frothiness, while between them, supporting the state, defending the evangelical churches and domestic brightness and sound business, were Babbitt and his friends.
With this just estimate of himself—and with the promise of a discount on Thompson's car—he returned to his office in triumph.
But as he went through the corridor of the Reeves Building he sighed, “Poor old Paul! I got to—Oh, damn Noel Ryland! Damn Charley McKelvey! Just because they make more money than I do, they think they're so superior. I wouldn't be found dead in their stuffy29 old union Club! I—Somehow, to-day, I don't feel like going back to work. Oh well—”
II
He answered telephone calls, he read the four o'clock mail, he signed his morning's letters, he talked to a tenant30 about repairs, he fought with Stanley Graff.
Young Graff, the outside salesman, was always hinting that he deserved an increase of commission, and to-day he complained, “I think I ought to get a bonus if I put through the Heiler sale. I'm chasing around and working on it every single evening, almost.”
Babbitt frequently remarked to his wife that it was better to “con your office-help along and keep 'em happy 'stead of jumping on 'em and poking31 'em up—get more work out of 'em that way,” but this unexampled lack of appreciation32 hurt him, and he turned on Graff:
“Look here, Stan; let's get this clear. You've got an idea somehow that it's you that do all the selling. Where d' you get that stuff? Where d' you think you'd be if it wasn't for our capital behind you, and our lists of properties, and all the prospects33 we find for you? All you got to do is follow up our tips and close the deal. The hall-porter could sell Babbitt-Thompson listings! You say you're engaged to a girl, but have to put in your evenings chasing after buyers. Well, why the devil shouldn't you? What do you want to do? Sit around holding her hand? Let me tell you, Stan, if your girl is worth her salt, she'll be glad to know you're out hustling34, making some money to furnish the home-nest, instead of doing the lovey-dovey. The kind of fellow that kicks about working overtime35, that wants to spend his evenings reading trashy novels or spooning and exchanging a lot of nonsense and foolishness with some girl, he ain't the kind of upstanding, energetic young man, with a future—and with Vision!—that we want here. How about it? What's your Ideal, anyway? Do you want to make money and be a responsible member of the community, or do you want to be a loafer, with no Inspiration or Pep?”
Graff was not so amenable36 to Vision and Ideals as usual. “You bet I want to make money! That's why I want that bonus! Honest, Mr. Babbitt, I don't want to get fresh, but this Heiler house is a terror. Nobody'll fall for it. The flooring is rotten and the walls are full of cracks.”
“That's exactly what I mean! To a salesman with a love for his profession, it's hard problems like that that inspire him to do his best. Besides, Stan—Matter o' fact, Thompson and I are against bonuses, as a matter of principle. We like you, and we want to help you so you can get married, but we can't be unfair to the others on the staff. If we start giving you bonuses, don't you see we're going to hurt the feeling and be unjust to Penniman and Laylock? Right's right, and discrimination is unfair, and there ain't going to be any of it in this office! Don't get the idea, Stan, that because during the war salesmen were hard to hire, now, when there's a lot of men out of work, there aren't a slew37 of bright young fellows that would be glad to step in and enjoy your opportunities, and not act as if Thompson and I were his enemies and not do any work except for bonuses. How about it, heh? How about it?”
Babbitt did not often squabble with his employees. He liked to like the people about him; he was dismayed when they did not like him. It was only when they attacked the sacred purse that he was frightened into fury, but then, being a man given to oratory39 and high principles, he enjoyed the sound of his own vocabulary and the warmth of his own virtue41. Today he had so passionately42 indulged in self-approval that he wondered whether he had been entirely43 just:
“After all, Stan isn't a boy any more. Oughtn't to call him so hard. But rats, got to haul folks over the coals now and then for their own good. Unpleasant duty, but—I wonder if Stan is sore? What's he saying to McGoun out there?”
So chill a wind of hatred44 blew from the outer office that the normal comfort of his evening home-going was ruined. He was distressed45 by losing that approval of his employees to which an executive is always slave. Ordinarily he left the office with a thousand enjoyable fussy46 directions to the effect that there would undoubtedly47 be important tasks to-morrow, and Miss McGoun and Miss Bannigan would do well to be there early, and for heaven's sake remind him to call up Conrad Lyte soon 's he came in. To-night he departed with feigned48 and apologetic liveliness. He was as afraid of his still-faced clerks—of the eyes focused on him, Miss McGoun staring with head lifted from her typing, Miss Bannigan looking over her ledger49, Mat Penniman craning around at his desk in the dark alcove50, Stanley Graff sullenly51 expressionless—as a parvenu52 before the bleak53 propriety54 of his butler. He hated to expose his back to their laughter, and in his effort to be casually55 merry he stammered56 and was raucously57 friendly and oozed58 wretchedly out of the door.
But he forgot his misery59 when he saw from Smith Street the charms of Floral Heights; the roofs of red tile and green slate, the shining new sun-parlors, and the stainless60 walls.
III
He stopped to inform Howard Littlefield, his scholarly neighbor, that though the day had been springlike the evening might be cold. He went in to shout “Where are you?” at his wife, with no very definite desire to know where she was. He examined the lawn to see whether the furnace-man had raked it properly. With some satisfaction and a good deal of discussion of the matter with Mrs. Babbitt, Ted9, and Howard Littlefield, he concluded that the furnace-man had not raked it properly. He cut two tufts of wild grass with his wife's largest dressmaking-scissors; he informed Ted that it was all nonsense having a furnace-man—“big husky fellow like you ought to do all the work around the house;” and privately61 he meditated62 that it was agreeable to have it known throughout the neighborhood that he was so prosperous that his son never worked around the house.
He stood on the sleeping-porch and did his day's exercises: arms out sidewise for two minutes, up for two minutes, while he muttered, “Ought take more exercise; keep in shape;” then went in to see whether his collar needed changing before dinner. As usual it apparently63 did not.
The Lettish-Croat maid, a powerful woman, beat the dinner-gong.
The roast of beef, roasted potatoes, and string beans were excellent this evening and, after an adequate sketch64 of the day's progressive weather-states, his four-hundred-and-fifty-dollar fee, his lunch with Paul Riesling, and the proven merits of the new cigar-lighter, he was moved to a benign65, “Sort o' thinking about buyin, a new car. Don't believe we'll get one till next year, but still we might.”
Verona, the older daughter, cried, “Oh, Dad, if you do, why don't you get a sedan? That would be perfectly66 slick! A closed car is so much more comfy than an open one.”
“Well now, I don't know about that. I kind of like an open car. You get more fresh air that way.”
“Oh, shoot, that's just because you never tried a sedan. Let's get one. It's got a lot more class,” said Ted.
“A closed car does keep the clothes nicer,” from Mrs. Babbitt; “You don't get your hair blown all to pieces,” from Verona; “It's a lot sportier,” from Ted; and from Tinka, the youngest, “Oh, let's have a sedan! Mary Ellen's father has got one.” Ted wound up, “Oh, everybody's got a closed car now, except us!”
Babbitt faced them: “I guess you got nothing very terrible to complain about! Anyway, I don't keep a car just to enable you children to look like millionaires! And I like an open car, so you can put the top down on summer evenings and go out for a drive and get some good fresh air. Besides—A closed car costs more money.”
“Humph! I make eight thousand a year to his seven! But I don't blow it all in and waste it and throw it around, the way he does! Don't believe in this business of going and spending a whole lot of money to show off and—”
They went, with ardor68 and some thoroughness, into the matters of streamline69 bodies, hill-climbing power, wire wheels, chrome steel, ignition systems, and body colors. It was much more than a study of transportation. It was an aspiration70 for knightly71 rank. In the city of Zenith, in the barbarous twentieth century, a family's motor indicated its social rank as precisely72 as the grades of the peerage determined73 the rank of an English family—indeed, more precisely, considering the opinion of old county families upon newly created brewery74 barons75 and woolen-mill viscounts. The details of precedence were never officially determined. There was no court to decide whether the second son of a Pierce Arrow limousine76 should go in to dinner before the first son of a Buick roadster, but of their respective social importance there was no doubt; and where Babbitt as a boy had aspired77 to the presidency78, his son Ted aspired to a Packard twin-six and an established position in the motored gentry79.
The favor which Babbitt had won from his family by speaking of a new car evaporated as they realized that he didn't intend to buy one this year. Ted lamented80, “Oh, punk! The old boat looks as if it'd had fleas81 and been scratching its varnish82 off.” Mrs. Babbitt said abstractedly, “Snoway talkcher father.” Babbitt raged, “If you're too much of a high-class gentleman, and you belong to the bon ton and so on, why, you needn't take the car out this evening.” Ted explained, “I didn't mean—” and dinner dragged on with normal domestic delight to the inevitable83 point at which Babbitt protested, “Come, come now, we can't sit here all evening. Give the girl a chance to clear away the table.”
He was fretting84, “What a family! I don't know how we all get to scrapping85 this way. Like to go off some place and be able to hear myself think.... Paul ... Maine ... Wear old pants, and loaf, and cuss.” He said cautiously to his wife, “I've been in correspondence with a man in New York—wants me to see him about a real-estate trade—may not come off till summer. Hope it doesn't break just when we and the Rieslings get ready to go to Maine. Be a shame if we couldn't make the trip there together. Well, no use worrying now.”
Verona escaped, immediately after dinner, with no discussion save an automatic “Why don't you ever stay home?” from Babbitt.
In the living-room, in a corner of the davenport, Ted settled down to his Home Study; plain geometry, Cicero, and the agonizing86 metaphors87 of Comus.
“I don't see why they give us this old-fashioned junk by Milton and Shakespeare and Wordsworth and all these has-beens,” he protested. “Oh, I guess I could stand it to see a show by Shakespeare, if they had swell88 scenery and put on a lot of dog, but to sit down in cold blood and READ 'em—These teachers—how do they get that way?”
Mrs. Babbitt, darning socks, speculated, “Yes, I wonder why. Of course I don't want to fly in the face of the professors and everybody, but I do think there's things in Shakespeare—not that I read him much, but when I was young the girls used to show me passages that weren't, really, they weren't at all nice.”
Babbitt looked up irritably89 from the comic strips in the Evening Advocate. They composed his favorite literature and art, these illustrated91 chronicles in which Mr. Mutt hit Mr. Jeff with a rotten egg, and Mother corrected Father's vulgarisms by means of a rolling-pin. With the solemn face of a devotee, breathing heavily through his open mouth, he plodded92 nightly through every picture, and during the rite90 he detested93 interruptions. Furthermore, he felt that on the subject of Shakespeare he wasn't really an authority. Neither the Advocate-Times, the Evening Advocate, nor the Bulletin of the Zenith Chamber94 of Commerce had ever had an editorial on the matter, and until one of them had spoken he found it hard to form an original opinion. But even at risk of floundering in strange bogs95, he could not keep out of an open controversy96.
“I'll tell you why you have to study Shakespeare and those. It's because they're required for college entrance, and that's all there is to it! Personally, I don't see myself why they stuck 'em into an up-to-date high-school system like we have in this state. Be a good deal better if you took Business English, and learned how to write an ad, or letters that would pull. But there it is, and there's no talk, argument, or discussion about it! Trouble with you, Ted, is you always want to do something different! If you're going to law-school—and you are!—I never had a chance to, but I'll see that you do—why, you'll want to lay in all the English and Latin you can get.”
“Oh punk. I don't see what's the use of law-school—or even finishing high school. I don't want to go to college 'specially97. Honest, there's lot of fellows that have graduated from colleges that don't begin to make as much money as fellows that went to work early. Old Shimmy Peters, that teaches Latin in the High, he's a what-is-it from Columbia and he sits up all night reading a lot of greasy98 books and he's always spieling about the 'value of languages,' and the poor soak doesn't make but eighteen hundred a year, and no traveling salesman would think of working for that. I know what I'd like to do. I'd like to be an aviator99, or own a corking100 big garage, or else—a fellow was telling me about it yesterday—I'd like to be one of these fellows that the Standard Oil Company sends out to China, and you live in a compound and don't have to do any work, and you get to see the world and pagodas101 and the ocean and everything! And then I could take up correspondence-courses. That's the real stuff! You don't have to recite to some frosty-faced old dame102 that's trying to show off to the principal, and you can study any subject you want to. Just listen to these! I clipped out the ads of some swell courses.”
He snatched from the back of his geometry half a hundred advertisements of those home-study courses which the energy and foresight103 of American commerce have contributed to the science of education. The first displayed the portrait of a young man with a pure brow, an iron jaw104, silk socks, and hair like patent leather. Standing5 with one hand in his trousers-pocket and the other extended with chiding105 forefinger106, he was bewitching an audience of men with gray beards, paunches, bald heads, and every other sign of wisdom and prosperity. Above the picture was an inspiring educational symbol—no antiquated lamp or torch or owl20 of Minerva, but a row of dollar signs. The text ran:
$ $ $ $ $ $ $ $ $
POWER AND PROSPERITY IN PUBLIC SPEAKING
Who do you think I ran into the other evening at the De Luxe Restaurant? Why, old Freddy Durkee, that used to be a dead or-alive shipping108 clerk in my old place—Mr. Mouse-Man we used to laughingly call the dear fellow. One time he was so timid he was plumb109 scared of the Super, and never got credit for the dandy work he did. Him at the De Luxe! And if he wasn't ordering a tony feed with all the “fixings” from celery to nuts! And instead of being embarrassed by the waiters, like he used to be at the little dump where we lunched in Old Lang Syne110, he was bossing them around like he was a millionaire!
I cautiously asked him what he was doing. Freddy laughed and said, “Say, old chum, I guess you're wondering what's come over me. You'll be glad to know I'm now Assistant Super at the old shop, and right on the High Road to Prosperity and Domination, and I look forward with confidence to a twelve-cylinder car, and the wife is making things hum in the best society and the kiddies getting a first-class education.”
———————————— WHAT WE TEACH YOU
How to give toasts.
How to tell dialect stories.
How to propose to a lady.
How to entertain banquets.
How to make convincing selling-talks.
How to build big vocabulary.
How to create a strong personality.
How to become a rational, powerful and original thinker.
How to be a MASTER MAN!
———————————————— ———————————— PROF. W. F. PEET
author of the Shortcut112 Course in Public-Speaking, is easily the foremost figure in practical literature, psychology113 & oratory. A graduate of some of our leading universities, lecturer, extensive traveler, author of books, poetry, etc., a man with the unique PERSONALITY OF THE MASTER MINDS, he is ready to give YOU all the secrets of his culture and hammering Force, in a few easy lessons that will not interfere114 with other occupations. ————————————————
“Here's how it happened. I ran across an ad of a course that claimed to teach people how to talk easily and on their feet, how to answer complaints, how to lay a proposition before the Boss, how to hit a bank for a loan, how to hold a big audience spellbound with wit, humor, anecdote115, inspiration, etc. It was compiled by the Master Orator40, Prof. Waldo F. Peet. I was skeptical116, too, but I wrote (JUST ON A POSTCARD, with name and address) to the publisher for the lessons—sent On Trial, money back if you are not absolutely satisfied. There were eight simple lessons in plain language anybody could understand, and I studied them just a few hours a night, then started practising on the wife. Soon found I could talk right up to the Super and get due credit for all the good work I did. They began to appreciate me and advance me fast, and say, old doggo, what do you think they're paying me now? $6,500 per year! And say, I find I can keep a big audience fascinated, speaking on any topic. As a friend, old boy, I advise you to send for circular (no obligation) and valuable free Art Picture to:—
SHORTCUT EDUCATIONAL PUB. CO.
Desk WA Sandpit, Iowa.
ARE YOU A 100 PERCENTER OR A 10 PERCENTER?”
Babbitt was again without a canon which would enable him to speak with authority. Nothing in motoring or real estate had indicated what a Solid Citizen and Regular Fellow ought to think about culture by mail. He began with hesitation117:
“Well—sounds as if it covered the ground. It certainly is a fine thing to be able to orate. I've sometimes thought I had a little talent that way myself, and I know darn well that one reason why a fourflushing old back-number like Chan Mott can get away with it in real estate is just because he can make a good talk, even when he hasn't got a doggone thing to say! And it certainly is pretty cute the way they get out all these courses on various topics and subjects nowadays. I'll tell you, though: No need to blow in a lot of good money on this stuff when you can get a first-rate course in eloquence118 and English and all that right in your own school—and one of the biggest school buildings in the entire country!”
“That's so,” said Mrs. Babbitt comfortably, while Ted complained:
“Yuh, but Dad, they just teach a lot of old junk that isn't any practical use—except the manual training and typewriting and basketball and dancing—and in these correspondence-courses, gee, you can get all kinds of stuff that would come in handy. Say, listen to this one:
'CAN YOU PLAY A MAN'S PART?
'If you are walking with your mother, sister or best girl and some one passes a slighting remark or uses improper119 language, won't you be ashamed if you can't take her part? Well, can you?
'We teach boxing and self-defense by mail. Many pupils have written saying that after a few lessons they've outboxed bigger and heavier opponents. The lessons start with simple movements practised before your mirror—holding out your hand for a coin, the breast-stroke in swimming, etc. Before you realize it you are striking scientifically, ducking, guarding and feinting, just as if you had a real opponent before you.'”
“Oh, baby, maybe I wouldn't like that!” Ted chanted. “I'll tell the world! Gosh, I'd like to take one fellow I know in school that's always shooting off his mouth, and catch him alone—”
“Nonsense! The idea! Most useless thing I ever heard of!” Babbitt fulminated.
“Well, just suppose I was walking with Mama or Rone, and somebody passed a slighting remark or used improper language. What would I do?”
“I WOULD not! I'd stand right up to any mucker that passed a slighting remark on MY sister and I'd show him—”
“Look here, young Dempsey! If I ever catch you fighting I'll whale the everlasting121 daylights out of you—and I'll do it without practising holding out my hand for a coin before the mirror, too!”
“Why, Ted dear,” Mrs. Babbitt said placidly122, “it's not at all nice, your talking of fighting this way!”
“Well, gosh almighty123, that's a fine way to appreciate—And then suppose I was walking with YOU, Ma, and somebody passed a slighting remark—”
“Nobody's going to pass no slighting remarks on nobody,” Babbitt observed, “not if they stay home and study their geometry and mind their own affairs instead of hanging around a lot of poolrooms and soda-fountains and places where nobody's got any business to be!”
“But gooooooosh, Dad, if they DID!”
Mrs. Babbitt chirped125, “Well, if they did, I wouldn't do them the honor of paying any attention to them! Besides, they never do. You always hear about these women that get followed and insulted and all, but I don't believe a word of it, or it's their own fault, the way some women look at a person. I certainly never 've been insulted by—”
“Aw shoot. Mother, just suppose you WERE sometime! Just SUPPOSE! Can't you suppose something? Can't you imagine things?”
“Certainly I can imagine things! The idea!”
“Certainly your mother can imagine things—and suppose things! Think you're the only member of this household that's got an imagination?” Babbitt demanded. “But what's the use of a lot of supposing? Supposing never gets you anywhere. No sense supposing when there's a lot of real facts to take into considera—”
“Look here, Dad. Suppose—I mean, just—just suppose you were in your office and some rival real-estate man—”
“Realtor!”
“—some realtor that you hated came in—”
“I don't hate any realtor.”
“But suppose you DID!”
“I don't intend to suppose anything of the kind! There's plenty of fellows in my profession that stoop and hate their competitors, but if you were a little older and understood business, instead of always going to the movies and running around with a lot of fool girls with their dresses up to their knees and powdered and painted and rouged126 and God knows what all as if they were chorus-girls, then you'd know—and you'd suppose—that if there's any one thing that I stand for in the real-estate circles of Zenith, it is that we ought to always speak of each other only in the friendliest terms and institute a spirit of brotherhood127 and cooperation, and so I certainly can't suppose and I can't imagine my hating any realtor, not even that dirty, fourflushing society sneak128, Cecil Rountree!”
“But—”
“And there's no If, And or But about it! But if I WERE going to lambaste somebody, I wouldn't require any fancy ducks or swimming-strokes before a mirror, or any of these doodads and flipflops! Suppose you were out some place and a fellow called you vile129 names. Think you'd want to box and jump around like a dancing-master? You'd just lay him out cold (at least I certainly hope any son of mine would!) and then you'd dust off your hands and go on about your business, and that's all there is to it, and you aren't going to have any boxing-lessons by mail, either!”
“Well but—Yes—I just wanted to show how many different kinds of correspondence-courses there are, instead of all the camembert they teach us in the High.”
“But I thought they taught boxing in the school gymnasium.”
“That's different. They stick you up there and some big stiff amuses himself pounding the stuffin's out of you before you have a chance to learn. Hunka! Not any! But anyway—Listen to some of these others.”
The advertisements were truly philanthropic. One of them bore the rousing headline: “Money! Money!! Money!!!” The second announced that “Mr. P. R., formerly130 making only eighteen a week in a barber shop, writes to us that since taking our course he is now pulling down $5,000 as an Osteo-vitalic Physician;” and the third that “Miss J. L., recently a wrapper in a store, is now getting Ten Real Dollars a day teaching our Hindu System of Vibratory Breathing and Mental Control.”
Ted had collected fifty or sixty announcements, from annual reference-books, from Sunday School periodicals, fiction-magazines, and journals of discussion. One benefactor131 implored132, “Don't be a Wallflower—Be More Popular and Make More Money—YOU Can Ukulele or Sing Yourself into Society! By the secret principles of a Newly Discovered System of Music Teaching, any one—man, lady or child—can, without tiresome133 exercises, special training or long drawn134 out study, and without waste of time, money or energy, learn to play by note, piano, banjo, cornet, clarinet, saxophone, violin or drum, and learn sight-singing.”
The next, under the wistful appeal “Finger Print Detectives Wanted—Big Incomes!” confided135: “YOU red-blooded men and women—this is the PROFESSION you have been looking for. There's MONEY in it, BIG money, and that rapid change of scene, that entrancing and compelling interest and fascination136, which your active mind and adventurous137 spirit crave138. Think of being the chief figure and directing factor in solving strange mysteries and baffling crimes. This wonderful profession brings you into contact with influential139 men on the basis of equality, and often calls upon you to travel everywhere, maybe to distant lands—all expenses paid. NO SPECIAL EDUCATION REQUIRED.”
“Oh, boy! I guess that wins the fire-brick necklace! Wouldn't it be swell to travel everywhere and nab some famous crook140!” whooped141 Ted.
“Well, I don't think much of that. Doggone likely to get hurt. Still, that music-study stunt142 might be pretty fair, though. There's no reason why, if efficiency-experts put their minds to it the way they have to routing products in a factory, they couldn't figure out some scheme so a person wouldn't have to monkey with all this practising and exercises that you get in music.” Babbitt was impressed, and he had a delightful parental143 feeling that they two, the men of the family, understood each other.
He listened to the notices of mail-box universities which taught Short-story Writing and Improving the Memory, Motion-picture-acting and Developing the Soul-power, Banking144 and Spanish, Chiropody and Photography, Electrical Engineering and Window-trimming, Poultry-raising and Chemistry.
“Well—well—” Babbitt sought for adequate expression of his admiration. “I'm a son of a gun! I knew this correspondence-school business had become a mighty124 profitable game—makes suburban145 real-estate look like two cents!—but I didn't realize it'd got to be such a reg'lar key-industry! Must rank right up with groceries and movies. Always figured somebody'd come along with the brains to not leave education to a lot of bookworms and impractical146 theorists but make a big thing out of it. Yes, I can see how a lot of these courses might interest you. I must ask the fellows at the Athletic147 if they ever realized—But same time, Ted, you know how advertisers, I means some advertisers, exaggerate. I don't know as they'd be able to jam you through these courses as fast as they claim they can.”
“Oh sure, Dad; of course.” Ted had the immense and joyful148 maturity149 of a boy who is respectfully listened to by his elders. Babbitt concentrated on him with grateful affection:
“I can see what an influence these courses might have on the whole educational works. Course I'd never admit it publicly—fellow like myself, a State U. graduate, it's only decent and patriotic150 for him to blow his horn and boost the Alma Mater—but smatter of fact, there's a whole lot of valuable time lost even at the U., studying poetry and French and subjects that never brought in anybody a cent. I don't know but what maybe these correspondence-courses might prove to be one of the most important American inventions.
“Trouble with a lot of folks is: they're so blame material; they don't see the spiritual and mental side of American supremacy151; they think that inventions like the telephone and the areoplane and wireless—no, that was a Wop invention, but anyway: they think these mechanical improvements are all that we stand for; whereas to a real thinker, he sees that spiritual and, uh, dominating movements like Efficiency, and Rotarianism, and Prohibition152, and Democracy are what compose our deepest and truest wealth. And maybe this new principle in education-at-home may be another—may be another factor. I tell you, Ted, we've got to have Vision—”
“I think those correspondence-courses are terrible!”
The philosophers gasped153. It was Mrs. Babbitt who had made this discord154 in their spiritual harmony, and one of Mrs. Babbitt's virtues155 was that, except during dinner-parties, when she was transformed into a raging hostess, she took care of the house and didn't bother the males by thinking. She went on firmly:
“It sounds awful to me, the way they coax156 those poor young folks to think they're learning something, and nobody 'round to help them and—You two learn so quick, but me, I always was slow. But just the same—”
Babbitt attended to her: “Nonsense! Get just as much, studying at home. You don't think a fellow learns any more because he blows in his father's hard-earned money and sits around in Morris chairs in a swell Harvard dormitory with pictures and shields and table-covers and those doodads, do you? I tell you, I'm a college man—I KNOW! There is one objection you might make though. I certainly do protest against any effort to get a lot of fellows out of barber shops and factories into the professions. They're too crowded already, and what'll we do for workmen if all those fellows go and get educated?”
Ted was leaning back, smoking a cigarette without reproof157. He was, for the moment, sharing the high thin air of Babbitt's speculation158 as though he were Paul Riesling or even Dr. Howard Littlefield. He hinted:
“Well, what do you think then, Dad? Wouldn't it be a good idea if I could go off to China or some peppy place, and study engineering or something by mail?”
“No, and I'll tell you why, son. I've found out it's a mighty nice thing to be able to say you're a B.A. Some client that doesn't know what you are and thinks you're just a plug business man, he gets to shooting off his mouth about economics or literature or foreign trade conditions, and you just ease in something like, 'When I was in college—course I got my B.A. in sociology and all that junk—' Oh, it puts an awful crimp in their style! But there wouldn't be any class to saying 'I got the degree of Stamp-licker from the Bezuzus Mail-order University!' You see—My dad was a pretty good old coot, but he never had much style to him, and I had to work darn hard to earn my way through college. Well, it's been worth it, to be able to associate with the finest gentlemen in Zenith, at the clubs and so on, and I wouldn't want you to drop out of the gentlemen class—the class that are just as red-blooded as the Common People but still have power and personality. It would kind of hurt me if you did that, old man!”
“I know, Dad! Sure! All right. I'll stick to it. Say! Gosh! Gee whiz! I forgot all about those kids I was going to take to the chorus rehearsal159. I'll have to duck!”
“But you haven't done all your home-work.”
“Do it first thing in the morning.”
“Well—”
Six times in the past sixty days Babbitt had stormed, “You will not 'do it first thing in the morning'! You'll do it right now!” but to-night he said, “Well, better hustle,” and his smile was the rare shy radiance he kept for Paul Riesling.
IV
“Ted's a good boy,” he said to Mrs. Babbitt.
“Oh, he is!”
“Who's these girls he's going to pick up? Are they nice decent girls?”
“I don't know. Oh dear, Ted never tells me anything any more. I don't understand what's come over the children of this generation. I used to have to tell Papa and Mama everything, but seems like the children to-day have just slipped away from all control.”
“I hope they're decent girls. Course Ted's no longer a kid, and I wouldn't want him to, uh, get mixed up and everything.”
“George: I wonder if you oughtn't to take him aside and tell him about—Things!” She blushed and lowered her eyes.
“Well, I don't know. Way I figure it, Myra, no sense suggesting a lot of Things to a boy's mind. Think up enough devilment by himself. But I wonder—It's kind of a hard question. Wonder what Littlefield thinks about it?”
“Course Papa agrees with you. He says all this—Instruction is—He says 'tisn't decent.”
“Oh, he does, does he! Well, let me tell you that whatever Henry T. Thompson thinks—about morals, I mean, though course you can't beat the old duffer—”
“Why, what a way to talk of Papa!”
“—simply can't beat him at getting in on the ground floor of a deal, but let me tell you whenever he springs any ideas about higher things and education, then I know I think just the opposite. You may not regard me as any great brain-shark, but believe me, I'm a regular college president, compared with Henry T.! Yes sir, by golly, I'm going to take Ted aside and tell him why I lead a strictly160 moral life.”
“Oh, will you? When?”
“When? When? What's the use of trying to pin me down to When and Why and Where and How and When? That's the trouble with women, that's why they don't make high-class executives; they haven't any sense of diplomacy161. When the proper opportunity and occasion arises so it just comes in natural, why then I'll have a friendly little talk with him and—and—Was that Tinka hollering up-stairs? She ought to been asleep, long ago.”
He prowled through the living-room, and stood in the sun-parlor, that glass-walled room of wicker chairs and swinging couch in which they loafed on Sunday afternoons. Outside only the lights of Doppelbrau's house and the dim presence of Babbitt's favorite elm broke the softness of April night.
“Good visit with the boy. Getting over feeling cranky, way I did this morning. And restless. Though, by golly, I will have a few days alone with Paul in Maine! . . . That devil Zilla! . . . But . . . Ted's all right. Whole family all right. And good business. Not many fellows make four hundred and fifty bucks162, practically half of a thousand dollars easy as I did to-day! Maybe when we all get to rowing it's just as much my fault as it is theirs. Oughtn't to get grouchy163 like I do. But—Wish I'd been a pioneer, same as my grand-dad. But then, wouldn't have a house like this. I—Oh, gosh, I DON'T KNOW!”
When Babbitt had graduated from the State University, twenty-four years ago, he had intended to be a lawyer. He had been a ponderous165 debater in college; he felt that he was an orator; he saw himself becoming governor of the state. While he read law he worked as a real-estate salesman. He saved money, lived in a boarding-house, supped on poached egg on hash. The lively Paul Riesling (who was certainly going off to Europe to study violin, next month or next year) was his refuge till Paul was bespelled by Zilla Colbeck, who laughed and danced and drew men after her plump and gaily166 wagging finger.
Babbitt's evenings were barren then, and he found comfort only in Paul's second cousin, Myra Thompson, a sleek167 and gentle girl who showed her capacity by agreeing with the ardent168 young Babbitt that of course he was going to be governor some day. Where Zilla mocked him as a country boy, Myra said indignantly that he was ever so much solider than the young dandies who had been born in the great city of Zenith—an ancient settlement in 1897, one hundred and five years old, with two hundred thousand population, the queen and wonder of all the state and, to the Catawba boy, George Babbitt, so vast and thunderous and luxurious169 that he was flattered to know a girl ennobled by birth in Zenith.
Of love there was no talk between them. He knew that if he was to study law he could not marry for years; and Myra was distinctly a Nice Girl—one didn't kiss her, one didn't “think about her that way at all” unless one was going to marry her. But she was a dependable companion. She was always ready to go skating, walking; always content to hear his discourses170 on the great things he was going to do, the distressed poor whom he would defend against the Unjust Rich, the speeches he would make at Banquets, the inexactitudes of popular thought which he would correct.
One evening when he was weary and soft-minded, he saw that she had been weeping. She had been left out of a party given by Zilla. Somehow her head was on his shoulder and he was kissing away the tears—and she raised her head to say trustingly, “Now that we're engaged, shall we be married soon or shall we wait?”
Engaged? It was his first hint of it. His affection for this brown tender woman thing went cold and fearful, but he could not hurt her, could not abuse her trust. He mumbled171 something about waiting, and escaped. He walked for an hour, trying to find a way of telling her that it was a mistake. Often, in the month after, he got near to telling her, but it was pleasant to have a girl in his arms, and less and less could he insult her by blurting172 that he didn't love her. He himself had no doubt. The evening before his marriage was an agony, and the morning wild with the desire to flee.
She made him what is known as a Good Wife. She was loyal, industrious173, and at rare times merry. She passed from a feeble disgust at their closer relations into what promised to be ardent affection, but it drooped174 into bored routine. Yet she existed only for him and for the children, and she was as sorry, as worried as himself, when he gave up the law and trudged175 on in a rut of listing real estate.
“Poor kid, she hasn't had much better time than I have,” Babbitt reflected, standing in the dark sun-parlor. “But—I wish I could 've had a whirl at law and politics. Seen what I could do. Well—Maybe I've made more money as it is.”
He returned to the living-room but before he settled down he smoothed his wife's hair, and she glanced up, happy and somewhat surprised.
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1
tenement
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| n.公寓；房屋 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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hurled
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| v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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poetic
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| adj.富有诗意的，有诗人气质的，善于抒情的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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6
lathe
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| n.车床，陶器，镟床 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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initiated
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| n. 创始人 adj. 新加入的 vt. 开始，创始，启蒙，介绍加入 | |
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ted
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| vt.翻晒，撒，撒开 | |
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machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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slate
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| n.板岩，石板，石片，石板色，候选人名单；adj.暗蓝灰色的，含板岩的；vt.用石板覆盖，痛打，提名，预订 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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tar
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| n.柏油，焦油；vt.涂或浇柏油/焦油于 | |
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hectic
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| adj.肺病的；消耗热的；发热的；闹哄哄的 | |
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orchards
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| （通常指围起来的）果园( orchard的名词复数 ) | |
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groves
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| 树丛，小树林( grove的名词复数 ) | |
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artistic
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| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
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cemetery
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| n.坟墓，墓地，坟场 | |
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19
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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owl
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| n.猫头鹰，枭 | |
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rugged
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| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
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antiquated
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| adj.陈旧的，过时的 | |
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esthetic
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| adj.美学的，审美的；悦目的，雅致的 | |
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subtlety
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| n.微妙，敏锐，精巧；微妙之处，细微的区别 | |
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frivolous
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| adj.轻薄的；轻率的 | |
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ware
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| n.(常用复数)商品，货物 | |
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27
spats
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| n.口角( spat的名词复数 )；小争吵；鞋罩；鞋套v.spit的过去式和过去分词( spat的第三人称单数 )；口角；小争吵；鞋罩 | |
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28
insularity
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| n.心胸狭窄；孤立；偏狭；岛国根性 | |
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stuffy
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| adj.不透气的，闷热的 | |
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tenant
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| n.承租人；房客；佃户；v.租借，租用 | |
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poking
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| n. 刺，戳，袋 vt. 拨开，刺，戳 vi. 戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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32
appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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prospects
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| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
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hustling
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| 催促（hustle的现在分词形式） | |
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overtime
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| adj.超时的，加班的；adv.加班地 | |
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amenable
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| adj.经得起检验的；顺从的；对负有义务的 | |
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37
slew
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| v.（使）旋转；n.大量，许多 | |
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38
gee
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| n.马；int.向右！前进！，惊讶时所发声音；v.向右转 | |
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39
oratory
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| n.演讲术；词藻华丽的言辞 | |
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orator
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| n.演说者，演讲者，雄辩家 | |
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41
virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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42
passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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43
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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44
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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45
distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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46
fussy
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| adj.为琐事担忧的，过分装饰的，爱挑剔的 | |
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47
undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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feigned
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| a.假装的，不真诚的 | |
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49
ledger
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| n.总帐，分类帐；帐簿 | |
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50
alcove
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| n.凹室 | |
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51
sullenly
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| 不高兴地，绷着脸，忧郁地 | |
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52
parvenu
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| n.暴发户，新贵 | |
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53
bleak
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| adj.(天气)阴冷的；凄凉的；暗淡的 | |
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54
propriety
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| n.正当行为；正当；适当 | |
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55
casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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56
stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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57
raucously
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| adv.粗声地；沙哑地 | |
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58
oozed
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| v.（浓液等）慢慢地冒出，渗出( ooze的过去式和过去分词 )；使（液体）缓缓流出；（浓液）渗出，慢慢流出 | |
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59
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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60
stainless
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| adj.无瑕疵的，不锈的 | |
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61
privately
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| adv.以私人的身份，悄悄地，私下地 | |
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62
meditated
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| 深思，沉思，冥想( meditate的过去式和过去分词 )； 内心策划，考虑 | |
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63
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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64
sketch
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| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
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65
benign
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| adj.善良的，慈祥的；良性的，无危险的 | |
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66
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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67
prodded
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| v.刺，戳( prod的过去式和过去分词 )；刺激；促使；（用手指或尖物）戳 | |
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68
ardor
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| n.热情，狂热 | |
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69
streamline
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| vt.使成流线型；使简化；使现代化 | |
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70
aspiration
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| n.志向，志趣抱负；渴望；(语)送气音；吸出 | |
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71
knightly
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| adj. 骑士般的 adv. 骑士般地 | |
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72
precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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73
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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74
brewery
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| n.啤酒厂 | |
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75
barons
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| 男爵( baron的名词复数 )； 巨头； 大王； 大亨 | |
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76
limousine
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| n.豪华轿车 | |
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77
aspired
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| v.渴望，追求( aspire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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78
presidency
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| n.总统(校长，总经理)的职位(任期) | |
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79
gentry
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| n.绅士阶级，上层阶级 | |
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80
lamented
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| adj.被哀悼的，令人遗憾的v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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81
fleas
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| n.跳蚤( flea的名词复数 )；爱财如命；没好气地（拒绝某人的要求） | |
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82
varnish
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| n.清漆；v.上清漆；粉饰 | |
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83
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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84
fretting
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| n. 微振磨损 adj. 烦躁的, 焦虑的 | |
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85
scrapping
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| 刮，切除坯体余泥 | |
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86
agonizing
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| adj.痛苦难忍的；使人苦恼的v.使极度痛苦；折磨(agonize的ing形式) | |
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87
metaphors
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| 隐喻( metaphor的名词复数 ) | |
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88
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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89
irritably
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| ad.易生气地 | |
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90
rite
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| n.典礼，惯例，习俗 | |
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91
illustrated
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| adj. 有插图的，列举的 动词illustrate的过去式和过去分词 | |
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92
plodded
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| v.沉重缓慢地走（路）( plod的过去式和过去分词 )；努力从事；沉闷地苦干；缓慢进行（尤指艰难枯燥的工作） | |
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93
detested
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| v.憎恶，嫌恶，痛恨( detest的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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94
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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95
bogs
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| n.沼泽，泥塘( bog的名词复数 )；厕所v.（使）陷入泥沼， （使）陷入困境( bog的第三人称单数 )；妨碍，阻碍 | |
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96
controversy
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| n.争论，辩论，争吵 | |
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97
specially
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| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
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98
greasy
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| adj. 多脂的，油脂的 | |
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99
aviator
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| n.飞行家，飞行员 | |
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100
corking
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| adj.很好的adv.非常地v.用瓶塞塞住( cork的现在分词 ) | |
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101
pagodas
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| 塔，宝塔( pagoda的名词复数 ) | |
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102
dame
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| n.女士 | |
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103
foresight
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| n.先见之明，深谋远虑 | |
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104
jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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105
chiding
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| v.责骂，责备( chide的现在分词 ) | |
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106
forefinger
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| n.食指 | |
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107
yarn
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| n.纱，纱线，纺线；奇闻漫谈，旅行轶事 | |
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108
shipping
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| n.船运（发货，运输，乘船） | |
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109
plumb
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| adv.精确地，完全地；v.了解意义，测水深 | |
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110
syne
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| adv.自彼时至此时，曾经 | |
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111
lodge
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| v.临时住宿，寄宿，寄存，容纳；n.传达室，小旅馆 | |
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112
shortcut
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| n.近路，捷径 | |
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113
psychology
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| n.心理，心理学，心理状态 | |
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114
interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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115
anecdote
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| n.轶事，趣闻，短故事 | |
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116
skeptical
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| adj.怀疑的，多疑的 | |
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117
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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118
eloquence
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| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
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119
improper
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| adj.不适当的，不合适的，不正确的，不合礼仪的 | |
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120
bust
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| vt.打破；vi.爆裂；n.半身像；胸部 | |
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121
everlasting
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| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
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122
placidly
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| adv.平稳地，平静地 | |
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123
almighty
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| adj.全能的，万能的；很大的，很强的 | |
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124
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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125
chirped
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| 鸟叫，虫鸣( chirp的过去式 ) | |
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126
rouged
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| 胭脂，口红( rouge的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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127
brotherhood
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| n.兄弟般的关系，手中情谊 | |
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128
sneak
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| vt.潜行(隐藏,填石缝)；偷偷摸摸做；n.潜行；adj.暗中进行 | |
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129
vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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130
formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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131
benefactor
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| n. 恩人，行善的人，捐助人 | |
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132
implored
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| 恳求或乞求（某人）( implore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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133
tiresome
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| adj.令人疲劳的，令人厌倦的 | |
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134
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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135
confided
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| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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136
fascination
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| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
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137
adventurous
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| adj.爱冒险的；惊心动魄的，惊险的，刺激的 | |
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138
crave
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| vt.渴望得到，迫切需要，恳求，请求 | |
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139
influential
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| adj.有影响的，有权势的 | |
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140
crook
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| v.使弯曲；n.小偷，骗子，贼；弯曲(处) | |
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141
whooped
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| 叫喊( whoop的过去式和过去分词 )； 高声说； 唤起 | |
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142
stunt
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| n.惊人表演，绝技，特技；vt.阻碍...发育，妨碍...生长 | |
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143
parental
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| adj.父母的；父的；母的 | |
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144
banking
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| n.银行业，银行学，金融业 | |
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145
suburban
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| adj.城郊的，在郊区的 | |
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146
impractical
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| adj.不现实的，不实用的，不切实际的 | |
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147
athletic
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| adj.擅长运动的，强健的；活跃的，体格健壮的 | |
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148
joyful
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| adj.欢乐的，令人欢欣的 | |
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149
maturity
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| n.成熟；完成；(支票、债券等)到期 | |
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150
patriotic
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| adj.爱国的，有爱国心的 | |
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151
supremacy
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| n.至上；至高权力 | |
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152
prohibition
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| n.禁止；禁令，禁律 | |
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153
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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154
discord
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| n.不和，意见不合，争论，（音乐）不和谐 | |
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155
virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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156
coax
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| v.哄诱，劝诱，用诱哄得到，诱取 | |
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157
reproof
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| n.斥责，责备 | |
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158
speculation
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| n.思索，沉思；猜测；投机 | |
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159
rehearsal
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| n.排练，排演；练习 | |
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160
strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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161
diplomacy
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| n.外交；外交手腕，交际手腕 | |
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162
bucks
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| n.雄鹿( buck的名词复数 )；钱；（英国十九世纪初的）花花公子；（用于某些表达方式）责任v.（马等）猛然弓背跃起( buck的第三人称单数 )；抵制；猛然震荡；马等尥起后蹄跳跃 | |
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163
grouchy
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| adj.好抱怨的；愠怒的 | |
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164
moodily
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| adv.喜怒无常地；情绪多变地；心情不稳地；易生气地 | |
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165
ponderous
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| adj.沉重的，笨重的，(文章)冗长的 | |
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166
gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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167
sleek
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| adj.光滑的，井然有序的；v.使光滑，梳拢 | |
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168
ardent
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，强烈的，烈性的 | |
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169
luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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170
discourses
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| 论文( discourse的名词复数 )； 演说； 讲道； 话语 | |
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171
mumbled
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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172
blurting
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| v.突然说出，脱口而出( blurt的现在分词 ) | |
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173
industrious
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| adj.勤劳的，刻苦的，奋发的 | |
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174
drooped
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| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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175
trudged
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| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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