IT was by accident that Babbitt had his opportunity to address the S. A. R. E. B.
The S. A. R. E. B., as its members called it, with the universal passion for mysterious and important-sounding initials, was the State Association of Real Estate Boards; the organization of brokers1 and operators. It was to hold its annual convention at Monarch3, Zenith's chief rival among the cities of the state. Babbitt was an official delegate; another was Cecil Rountree, whom Babbitt admired for his picaresque speculative4 building, and hated for his social position, for being present at the smartest dances on Royal Ridge6. Rountree was chairman of the convention program-committee.
Babbitt had growled7 to him, “Makes me tired the way these doctors and profs and preachers put on lugs8 about being 'professional men.' A good realtor has to have more knowledge and finesse10 than any of 'em.”
“Right you are! I say: Why don't you put that into a paper, and give it at the S. A. R. E. B.?” suggested Rountree.
“Well, if it would help you in making up the program—Tell you: the way I look at it is this: First place, we ought to insist that folks call us 'realtors' and not 'real-estate men.' Sounds more like a reg'lar profession. Second place—What is it distinguishes a profession from a mere12 trade, business, or occupation? What is it? Why, it's the public service and the skill, the trained skill, and the knowledge and, uh, all that, whereas a fellow that merely goes out for the jack13, he never considers the-public service and trained skill and so on. Now as a professional—”
“Rather! That's perfectly14 bully15! Perfectly corking16! Now you write it in a paper,” said Rountree, as he rapidly and firmly moved away.
II
However accustomed to the literary labors18 of advertisements and correspondence, Babbitt was dismayed on the evening when he sat down to prepare a paper which would take a whole ten minutes to read.
He laid out a new fifteen-cent school exercise-book on his wife's collapsible sewing-table, set up for the event in the living-room. The household had been bullied19 into silence; Verona and Ted5 requested to disappear, and Tinka threatened with “If I hear one sound out of you—if you holler for a glass of water one single solitary20 time—You better not, that's all!” Mrs. Babbitt sat over by the piano, making a nightgown and gazing with respect while Babbitt wrote in the exercise-book, to the rhythmical21 wiggling and squeaking22 of the sewing-table.
When he rose, damp and jumpy, and his throat dusty from cigarettes, she marveled, “I don't see how you can just sit down and make up things right out of your own head!”
“Oh, it's the training in constructive23 imagination that a fellow gets in modern business life.”
{illustration omitted: consists of several doodles and “(1) a profession (2) Not just a trade crossed out (3) Skill & vision (3) Shd be called “realtor” & not just real est man"}
The other six pages were rather like the first.
For a week he went about looking important. Every morning, as he dressed, he thought aloud: “Jever stop to consider, Myra, that before a town can have buildings or prosperity or any of those things, some realtor has got to sell 'em the land? All civilization starts with him. Jever realize that?” At the Athletic25 Club he led unwilling26 men aside to inquire, “Say, if you had to read a paper before a big convention, would you start in with the funny stories or just kind of scatter27 'em all through?” He asked Howard Littlefield for a “set of statistics about real-estate sales; something good and impressive,” and Littlefield provided something exceedingly good and impressive.
But it was to T. Cholmondeley Frink that Babbitt most often turned. He caught Frink at the club every noon, and demanded, while Frink looked hunted and evasive, “Say, Chum—you're a shark on this writing stuff—how would you put this sentence, see here in my manuscript—manuscript now where the deuce is that?—oh, yes, here. Would you say 'We ought not also to alone think?' or 'We ought also not to think alone?' or—”
One evening when his wife was away and he had no one to impress, Babbitt forgot about Style, Order, and the other mysteries, and scrawled29 off what he really thought about the real-estate business and about himself, and he found the paper written. When he read it to his wife she yearned30, “Why, dear, it's splendid; beautifully written, and so clear and interesting, and such splendid ideas! Why, it's just—it's just splendid!”
Next day he cornered Chum Frink and crowed, “Well, old son, I finished it last evening! Just lammed it out! I used to think you writing-guys must have a hard job making up pieces, but Lord, it's a cinch. Pretty soft for you fellows; you certainly earn your money easy! Some day when I get ready to retire, guess I'll take to writing and show you boys how to do it. I always used to think I could write better stuff, and more punch and originality31, than all this stuff you see printed, and now I'm doggone sure of it!”
He had four copies of the paper typed in black with a gorgeous red title, had them bound in pale blue manilla, and affably presented one to old Ira Runyon, the managing editor of the Advocate-Times, who said yes, indeed yes, he was very glad to have it, and he certainly would read it all through—as soon as he could find time.
Mrs. Babbitt could not go to Monarch. She had a women's-club meeting. Babbitt said that he was very sorry.
III
Besides the five official delegates to the convention—Babbitt, Rountree, W. A. Rogers, Alvin Thayer, and Elbert Wing—there were fifty unofficial delegates, most of them with their wives.
They met at the union Station for the midnight train to Monarch. All of them, save Cecil Rountree, who was such a snob32 that he never wore badges, displayed celluloid buttons the size of dollars and lettered “We zoom33 for Zenith.” The official delegates were magnificent with silver and magenta34 ribbons. Martin Lumsen's little boy Willy carried a tasseled35 banner inscribed36 “Zenith the Zip City—Zeal, Zest37 and Zowie—1,000,000 in 1935.” As the delegates arrived, not in taxicabs but in the family automobile38 driven by the oldest son or by Cousin Fred, they formed impromptu39 processions through the station waiting-room.
It was a new and enormous waiting-room, with marble pilasters, and frescoes40 depicting41 the exploration of the Chaloosa River Valley by Pere Emile Fauthoux in 1740. The benches were shelves of ponderous42 mahogany; the news-stand a marble kiosk with a brass43 grill44. Down the echoing spaces of the hall the delegates paraded after Willy Lumsen's banner, the men waving their cigars, the women conscious of their new frocks and strings45 of beads46, all singing to the tune47 of Auld48 Lang Syne49 the official City Song, written by Chum Frink:
Good old Zenith,
Wherever we may be,
Hats in the ring,
Of thy Prosperity.
Warren Whitby, the broker2, who had a gift of verse for banquets and birthdays, had added to Frink's City Song a special verse for the realtors' convention:
Oh, here we come,
The fellows from
Zenith, the Zip Citee.
We wish to state
In real estate
There's none so live as we.
Babbitt was stirred to hysteric patriotism51. He leaped on a bench, shouting to the crowd:
“What's the matter with Zenith?”
“She's all right!”
“What's best ole town in the U. S. A.?”
“Zeeeeeen-ith!”
The patient poor people waiting for the midnight train stared in unenvious wonder—Italian women with shawls, old weary men with broken shoes, roving road-wise boys in suits which had been flashy when they were new but which were faded now and wrinkled.
Babbitt perceived that as an official delegate he must be more dignified52. With Wing and Rogers he tramped up and down the cement platform beside the waiting Pullmans. Motor-driven baggage-trucks and red-capped porters carrying bags sped down the platform with an agreeable effect of activity. Arc-lights glared and stammered53 overhead. The glossy54 yellow sleeping-cars shone impressively. Babbitt made his voice to be measured and lordly; he thrust out his abdomen55 and rumbled56, “We got to see to it that the convention lets the Legislature understand just where they get off in this matter of taxing realty transfers.” Wing uttered approving grunts57 and Babbitt swelled58—gloated.
The blind of a Pullman compartment59 was raised, and Babbitt looked into an unfamiliar60 world. The occupant of the compartment was Lucile McKelvey, the pretty wife of the millionaire contractor61. Possibly, Babbitt thrilled, she was going to Europe! On the seat beside her was a bunch of orchids62 and violets, and a yellow paper-bound book which seemed foreign. While he stared, she picked up the book, then glanced out of the window as though she was bored. She must have looked straight at him, and he had met her, but she gave no sign. She languidly pulled down the blind, and he stood still, a cold feeling of insignificance63 in his heart.
But on the train his pride was restored by meeting delegates from Sparta, Pioneer, and other smaller cities of the state, who listened respectfully when, as a magnifico from the metropolis64 of Zenith, he explained politics and the value of a Good Sound Business Administration. They fell joyfully65 into shop-talk, the purest and most rapturous form of conversation:
“How'd this fellow Rountree make out with this big apartment-hotel he was going to put up? Whadde do? Get out bonds to finance it?” asked a Sparta broker.
“Well, I'll tell you,” said Babbitt. “Now if I'd been handling it—”
“So,” Elbert Wing was droning, “I hired this shop-window for a week, and put up a big sign, 'Toy Town for Tiny Tots,' and stuck in a lot of doll houses and some dinky little trees, and then down at the bottom, 'Baby Likes This Dollydale, but Papa and Mama Will Prefer Our Beautiful Bungalows,' and you know, that certainly got folks talking, and first week we sold—”
The trucks sang “lickety-lick, lickety-lick” as the train ran through the factory district. Furnaces spurted66 flame, and power-hammers were clanging. Red lights, green lights, furious white lights rushed past, and Babbitt was important again, and eager.
IV
He did a voluptuous67 thing: he had his clothes pressed on the train. In the morning, half an hour before they reached Monarch, the porter came to his berth68 and whispered, “There's a drawing-room vacant, sir. I put your suit in there.” In tan autumn overcoat over his pajamas69, Babbitt slipped down the green-curtain-lined aisle70 to the glory of his first private compartment. The porter indicated that he knew Babbitt was used to a man-servant; he held the ends of Babbitt's trousers, that the beautifully sponged garment might not be soiled, filled the bowl in the private washroom, and waited with a towel.
To have a private washroom was luxurious71. However enlivening a Pullman smoking-compartment was by night, even to Babbitt it was depressing in the morning, when it was jammed with fat men in woolen72 undershirts, every hook filled with wrinkled cottony shirts, the leather seat piled with dingy73 toilet-kits, and the air nauseating74 with the smell of soap and toothpaste. Babbitt did not ordinarily think much of privacy, but now he reveled in it, reveled in his valet, and purred with pleasure as he gave the man a tip of a dollar and a half.
He rather hoped that he was being noticed as, in his newly pressed clothes, with the adoring porter carrying his suit-case, he disembarked at Monarch.
He was to share a room at the Hotel Sedgwick with W. A. Rogers, that shrewd, rustic-looking Zenith dealer75 in farm-lands. Together they had a noble breakfast, with waffles, and coffee not in exiguous76 cups but in large pots. Babbitt grew expansive, and told Rogers about the art of writing; he gave a bellboy a quarter to fetch a morning newspaper from the lobby, and sent to Tinka a post-card: “Papa wishes you were here to bat round with him.”
V
The meetings of the convention were held in the ballroom77 of the Allen House. In an anteroom was the office of the chairman of the executive committee. He was the busiest man in the convention; he was so busy that he got nothing done whatever. He sat at a marquetry table, in a room littered with crumpled78 paper and, all day long, town-boosters and lobbyists and orators79 who wished to lead debates came and whispered to him, whereupon he looked vague, and said rapidly, “Yes, yes, that's a fine idea; we'll do that,” and instantly forgot all about it, lighted a cigar and forgot that too, while the telephone rang mercilessly and about him men kept beseeching81, “Say, Mr. Chairman—say, Mr. Chairman!” without penetrating82 his exhausted83 hearing.
In the exhibit-room were plans of the new suburbs of Sparta, pictures of the new state capitol, at Galop de Vache, and large ears of corn with the label, “Nature's Gold, from Shelby County, the Garden Spot of God's Own Country.”
The real convention consisted of men muttering in hotel bedrooms or in groups amid the badge-spotted crowd in the hotel-lobby, but there was a show of public meetings.
The first of them opened with a welcome by the mayor of Monarch. The pastor84 of the First Christian85 Church of Monarch, a large man with a long damp frontal lock, informed God that the real-estate men were here now.
The venerable Minnemagantic realtor, Major Carlton Tuke, read a paper in which he denounced cooperative stores. William A. Larkin of Eureka gave a comforting prognosis of “The Prospects86 for Increased Construction,” and reminded them that plate-glass prices were two points lower.
The convention was on.
The delegates were entertained, incessantly87 and firmly. The Monarch Chamber88 of Commerce gave them a banquet, and the Manufacturers' Association an afternoon reception, at which a chrysanthemum90 was presented to each of the ladies, and to each of the men a leather bill-fold inscribed “From Monarch the Mighty91 Motor Mart.”
Mrs. Crosby Knowlton, wife of the manufacturer of Fleetwing Automobiles92, opened her celebrated93 Italian garden and served tea. Six hundred real-estate men and wives ambled94 down the autumnal paths. Perhaps three hundred of them were quietly inconspicuous; perhaps three hundred vigorously exclaimed, “This is pretty slick, eh?” surreptitiously picked the late asters and concealed95 them in their pockets, and tried to get near enough to Mrs. Knowlton to shake her lovely hand. Without request, the Zenith delegates (except Rountree) gathered round a marble dancing nymph and sang “Here we come, the fellows from Zenith, the Zip Citee.”
It chanced that all the delegates from Pioneer belonged to the Brotherly and Protective Order of Elks96, and they produced an enormous banner lettered: “B. P. O. E.—Best People on Earth—Boost Pioneer, Oh Eddie.” Nor was Galop de Vache, the state capital, to be slighted. The leader of the Galop de Vache delegation97 was a large, reddish, roundish man, but active. He took off his coat, hurled98 his broad black felt hat on the ground, rolled up his sleeves, climbed upon the sundial, spat99, and bellowed100:
“We'll tell the world, and the good lady who's giving the show this afternoon, that the bonniest burg in this man's state is Galop de Vache. You boys can talk about your zip, but jus' lemme murmur101 that old Galop has the largest proportion of home-owning citizens in the state; and when folks own their homes, they ain't starting labor-troubles, and they're raising kids instead of raising hell! Galop de Vache! The town for homey folks! The town that eats 'em alive oh, Bosco! We'll—tell—the—world!”
The guests drove off; the garden shivered into quiet. But Mrs. Crosby Knowlton sighed as she looked at a marble seat warm from five hundred summers of Amalfi. On the face of a winged sphinx which supported it some one had drawn102 a mustache in lead-pencil. Crumpled paper napkins were dumped among the Michaelmas daisies. On the walk, like shredded103 lovely flesh, were the petals104 of the last gallant105 rose. Cigarette stubs floated in the goldfish pool, trailing an evil stain as they swelled and disintegrated106, and beneath the marble seat, the fragments carefully put together, was a smashed teacup.
VI
As he rode back to the hotel Babbitt reflected, “Myra would have enjoyed all this social agony.” For himself he cared less for the garden party than for the motor tours which the Monarch Chamber of Commerce had arranged. Indefatigably107 he viewed water-reservoirs, suburban108 trolley-stations, and tanneries. He devoured109 the statistics which were given to him, and marveled to his roommate, W. A. Rogers, “Of course this town isn't a patch on Zenith; it hasn't got our outlook and natural resources; but did you know—I nev' did till to-day—that they manufactured seven hundred and sixty-three million feet of lumber110 last year? What d' you think of that!”
He was nervous as the time for reading his paper approached. When he stood on the low platform before the convention, he trembled and saw only a purple haze111. But he was in earnest, and when he had finished the formal paper he talked to them, his hands in his pockets, his spectacled face a flashing disk, like a plate set up on edge in the lamplight. They shouted “That's the stuff!” and in the discussion afterward112 they referred with impressiveness to “our friend and brother, Mr. George F. Babbitt.” He had in fifteen minutes changed from a minor113 delegate to a personage almost as well known as that diplomat114 of business, Cecil Rountree. After the meeting, delegates from all over the state said, “Hower you, Brother Babbitt?” Sixteen complete strangers called him “George,” and three men took him into corners to confide115, “Mighty glad you had the courage to stand up and give the Profession a real boost. Now I've always maintained—”
Next morning, with tremendous casualness, Babbitt asked the girl at the hotel news-stand for the newspapers from Zenith. There was nothing in the Press, but in the Advocate-Times, on the third page—He gasped116. They had printed his picture and a half-column account. The heading was “Sensation at Annual Land-men's Convention. G. F. Babbitt, Prominent Ziptown Realtor, Keynoter in Fine Address.”
He murmured reverently117, “I guess some of the folks on Floral Heights will sit up and take notice now, and pay a little attention to old Georgie!”
VII
It was the last meeting. The delegations118 were presenting the claims of their several cities to the next year's convention. Orators were announcing that “Galop de Vache, the Capital City, the site of Kremer College and of the Upholtz Knitting Works, is the recognized center of culture and high-class enterprise;” and that “Hamburg, the Big Little City with the Logical Location, where every man is open-handed and every woman a heaven-born hostess, throws wide to you her hospitable119 gates.”
In the midst of these more diffident invitations, the golden doors of the ballroom opened with a blatting of trumpets120, and a circus parade rolled in. It was composed of the Zenith brokers, dressed as cowpunchers, bareback riders, Japanese jugglers. At the head was big Warren Whitby, in the bearskin and gold-and-crimson coat of a drum-major. Behind him, as a clown, beating a bass121 drum, extraordinarily122 happy and noisy, was Babbitt.
Warren Whitby leaped on the platform, made merry play with his baton123, and observed, “Boyses and girlses, the time has came to get down to cases. A dyed-in-the-wool Zenithite sure loves his neighbors, but we've made up our minds to grab this convention off our neighbor burgs like we've grabbed the condensed-milk business and the paper-box business and—”
J. Harry124 Barmhill, the convention chairman, hinted, “We're grateful to you, Mr. Uh, but you must give the other boys a chance to hand in their bids now.”
A fog-horn voice blared, “In Eureka we'll promise free motor rides through the prettiest country—”
Running down the aisle, clapping his hands, a lean bald young man cried, “I'm from Sparta! Our Chamber of Commerce has wired me they've set aside eight thousand dollars, in real money, for the entertainment of the convention!”
A clerical-looking man rose to clamor, “Money talks! Move we accept the bid from Sparta!”
It was accepted.
VIII
The Committee on Resolutions was reporting. They said that Whereas Almighty125 God in his beneficent mercy had seen fit to remove to a sphere of higher usefulness some thirty-six realtors of the state the past year, Therefore it was the sentiment of this convention assembled that they were sorry God had done it, and the secretary should be, and hereby was, instructed to spread these resolutions on the minutes, and to console the bereaved126 families by sending them each a copy.
A second resolution authorized127 the president of the S.A.R.E.B. to spend fifteen thousand dollars in lobbying for sane128 tax measures in the State Legislature. This resolution had a good deal to say about Menaces to Sound Business and clearing the Wheels of Progress from ill-advised and shortsighted obstacles.
The Committee on Committees reported, and with startled awe129 Babbitt learned that he had been appointed a member of the Committee on Torrens Titles.
He rejoiced, “I said it was going to be a great year! Georgie, old son, you got big things ahead of you! You're a natural-born orator80 and a good mixer and—Zowie!”
IX
There was no formal entertainment provided for the last evening. Babbitt had planned to go home, but that afternoon the Jered Sassburgers of Pioneer suggested that Babbitt and W. A. Rogers have tea with them at the Catalpa Inn.
Teas were not unknown to Babbitt—his wife and he earnestly attended them at least twice a year—but they were sufficiently130 exotic to make him feel important. He sat at a glass-covered table in the Art Room of the Inn, with its painted rabbits, mottoes lettered on birch bark, and waitresses being artistic131 in Dutch caps; he ate insufficient132 lettuce133 sandwiches, and was lively and naughty with Mrs. Sassburger, who was as smooth and large-eyed as a cloak-model. Sassburger and he had met two days before, so they were calling each other “Georgie” and “Sassy.”
Sassburger said prayerfully, “Say, boys, before you go, seeing this is the last chance, I've GOT IT, up in my room, and Miriam here is the best little mixelogist in the Stati Unidos like us Italians say.”
With wide flowing gestures, Babbitt and Rogers followed the Sassburgers to their room. Mrs. Sassburger shrieked134, “Oh, how terrible!” when she saw that she had left a chemise of sheer lavender crepe on the bed. She tucked it into a bag, while Babbitt giggled135, “Don't mind us; we're a couple o' little divvils!”
Sassburger telephoned for ice, and the bell-boy who brought it said, prosaically136 and unprompted, “Highball glasses or cocktail137?” Miriam Sassburger mixed the cocktails138 in one of those dismal139, nakedly white water-pitchers which exist only in hotels. When they had finished the first round she proved by intoning “Think you boys could stand another—you got a dividend140 coming” that, though she was but a woman, she knew the complete and perfect rite17 of cocktail-drinking.
Outside, Babbitt hinted to Rogers, “Say, W. A., old rooster, it comes over me that I could stand it if we didn't go back to the lovin' wives, this handsome ABEND, but just kind of stayed in Monarch and threw a party, heh?”
“George, you speak with the tongue of wisdom and sagashiteriferousness. El Wing's wife has gone on to Pittsburg. Let's see if we can't gather him in.”
At half-past seven they sat in their room, with Elbert Wing and two up-state delegates. Their coats were off, their vests open, their faces red, their voices emphatic141. They were finishing a bottle of corrosive142 bootlegged whisky and imploring143 the bell-boy, “Say, son, can you get us some more of this embalming144 fluid?” They were smoking large cigars and dropping ashes and stubs on the carpet. With windy guffaws145 they were telling stories. They were, in fact, males in a happy state of nature.
Babbitt sighed, “I don't know how it strikes you hellions, but personally I like this busting146 loose for a change, and kicking over a couple of mountains and climbing up on the North Pole and waving the aurora147 borealis around.”
The man from Sparta, a grave, intense youngster, babbled148, “Say! I guess I'm as good a husband as the run of the mill, but God, I do get so tired of going home every evening, and nothing to see but the movies. That's why I go out and drill with the National Guard. I guess I got the nicest little wife in my burg, but—Say! Know what I wanted to do as a kid? Know what I wanted to do? Wanted to be a big chemist. Tha's what I wanted to do. But Dad chased me out on the road selling kitchenware, and here I'm settled down—settled for LIFE—not a chance! Oh, who the devil started this funeral talk? How 'bout9 'nother lil drink? 'And a-noth-er drink wouldn' do 's 'ny harmmmmmmm.'”
“Yea. Cut the sob-stuff,” said W. A. Rogers genially149. “You boys know I'm the village songster? Come on now—sing up:
Said the old Obadiah to the young Obadiah,
'I am dry, Obadiah, I am dry.'
Said the young Obadiah to the old Obadiah,
'So am I, Obadiah, so am I.'”
X
They had dinner in the Moorish150 Grillroom of the Hotel Sedgwick. Somewhere, somehow, they seemed to have gathered in two other comrades: a manufacturer of fly-paper and a dentist. They all drank whisky from tea-cups, and they were humorous, and never listened to one another, except when W. A. Rogers “kidded” the Italian waiter.
“Say, Gooseppy,” he said innocently, “I want a couple o' fried elephants' ears.”
“Sorry, sir, we haven't any.”
“Huh? No elephants' ears? What do you know about that!” Rogers turned to Babbitt. “Pedro says the elephants' ears are all out!”
“Well, I'll be switched!” said the man from Sparta, with difficulty hiding his laughter.
“Well, in that case, Carlo, just bring me a hunk o' steak and a couple o' bushels o' French fried potatoes and some peas,” Rogers went on. “I suppose back in dear old sunny It' the Eyetalians get their fresh garden peas out of the can.”
“No, sir, we have very nice peas in Italy.”
“Is that a fact! Georgie, do you hear that? They get their fresh garden peas out of the garden, in Italy! By golly, you live and learn, don't you, Antonio, you certainly do live and learn, if you live long enough and keep your strength. All right, Garibaldi, just shoot me in that steak, with about two printers'-reams of French fried spuds on the promenade151 deck, comprehenez-vous, Michelovitch Angeloni?”
Afterward Elbert Wing admired, “Gee152, you certainly did have that poor Dago going, W. A. He couldn't make you out at all!”
In the Monarch Herald153, Babbitt found an advertisement which he read aloud, to applause and laughter:
Old Colony Theatre
Shake the Old Dogs to the WROLLICKING WRENS154 The bonniest bevy155 of beauteous bathing babes in burlesque156. Pete Menutti and his Oh, Gee, Kids.
This is the straight steer157, Benny, the painless chicklets of the Wrollicking Wrens are the cuddlingest bunch that ever hit town. Steer the feet, get the card board, and twist the pupils to the PDQest show ever. You will get 111% on your kale in this fun-fest. The Calroza Sisters are sure some lookers and will give you a run for your gelt. Jock Silbersteen is one of the pepper lads and slips you a dose of real laughter. Shoot the up and down to Jackson and West for graceful158 tappers. They run 1-2 under the wire. Provin and Adams will blow the blues159 in their laugh skit160 “Hootch Mon!” Something doing, boys. Listen to what the Hep Bird twitters.
“Sounds like a juicy show to me. Let's all take it in,” said Babbitt.
But they put off departure as long as they could. They were safe while they sat here, legs firmly crossed under the table, but they felt unsteady; they were afraid of navigating161 the long and slippery floor of the grillroom under the eyes of the other guests and the too-attentive waiters.
When they did venture, tables got in their way, and they sought to cover embarrassment162 by heavy jocularity at the coatroom. As the girl handed out their hats, they smiled at her, and hoped that she, a cool and expert judge, would feel that they were gentlemen. They croaked163 at one another, “Who owns the bum164 lid?” and “You take a good one, George; I'll take what's left,” and to the check-girl they stammered, “Better come along, sister! High, wide, and fancy evening ahead!” All of them tried to tip her, urging one another, “No! Wait! Here! I got it right here!” Among them, they gave her three dollars.
XI
Flamboyantly165 smoking cigars they sat in a box at the burlesque show, their feet up on the rail, while a chorus of twenty daubed, worried, and inextinguishably respectable grandams swung their legs in the more elementary chorus-evolutions, and a Jewish comedian166 made vicious fun of Jews. In the entr'actes they met other lone28 delegates. A dozen of them went in taxicabs out to Bright Blossom Inn, where the blossoms were made of dusty paper festooned along a room low and stinking167, like a cow-stable no longer wisely used.
Here, whisky was served openly, in glasses. Two or three clerks, who on pay-day longed to be taken for millionaires, sheepishly danced with telephone-girls and manicure-girls in the narrow space between the tables. Fantastically whirled the professionals, a young man in sleek168 evening-clothes and a slim mad girl in emerald silk, with amber89 hair flung up as jaggedly as flames. Babbitt tried to dance with her. He shuffled169 along the floor, too bulky to be guided, his steps unrelated to the rhythm of the jungle music, and in his staggering he would have fallen, had she not held him with supple170 kindly171 strength. He was blind and deaf from prohibition-era alcohol; he could not see the tables, the faces. But he was overwhelmed by the girl and her young pliant172 warmth.
When she had firmly returned him to his group, he remembered, by a connection quite untraceable, that his mother's mother had been Scotch173, and with head thrown back, eyes closed, wide mouth indicating ecstasy174, he sang, very slowly and richly, “Loch Lomond.”
But that was the last of his mellowness175 and jolly companionship. The man from Sparta said he was a “bum singer,” and for ten minutes Babbitt quarreled with him, in a loud, unsteady, heroic indignation. They called for drinks till the manager insisted that the place was closed. All the while Babbitt felt a hot raw desire for more brutal176 amusements. When W. A. Rogers drawled, “What say we go down the line and look over the girls?” he agreed savagely177. Before they went, three of them secretly made appointments with the professional dancing girl, who agreed “Yes, yes, sure, darling” to everything they said, and amiably178 forgot them.
As they drove back through the outskirts179 of Monarch, down streets of small brown wooden cottages of workmen, characterless as cells, as they rattled180 across warehouse-districts which by drunken night seemed vast and perilous181, as they were borne toward the red lights and violent automatic pianos and the stocky women who simpered, Babbitt was frightened. He wanted to leap from the taxicab, but all his body was a murky182 fire, and he groaned183, “Too late to quit now,” and knew that he did not want to quit.
There was, they felt, one very humorous incident on the way. A broker from Minnemagantic said, “Monarch is a lot sportier than Zenith. You Zenith tightwads haven't got any joints184 like these here.” Babbitt raged, “That's a dirty lie! Snothin' you can't find in Zenith. Believe me, we got more houses and hootch-parlors an' all kinds o' dives than any burg in the state.”
He realized they were laughing at him; he desired to fight; and forgot it in such musty unsatisfying experiments as he had not known since college.
In the morning, when he returned to Zenith, his desire for rebellion was partly satisfied. He had retrograded to a shamefaced contentment. He was irritable185. He did not smile when W. A. Rogers complained, “Ow, what a head! I certainly do feel like the wrath186 of God this morning. Say! I know what was the trouble! Somebody went and put alcohol in my booze last night.”
Babbitt's excursion was never known to his family, nor to any one in Zenith save Rogers and Wing. It was not officially recognized even by himself. If it had any consequences, they have not been discovered.
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1
brokers
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| n.（股票、外币等）经纪人( broker的名词复数 )；中间人；代理商；（订合同的）中人v.做掮客（或中人等）( broker的第三人称单数 )；作为权力经纪人进行谈判；以中间人等身份安排… | |
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2
broker
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| n.中间人，经纪人；v.作为中间人来安排 | |
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3
monarch
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| n.帝王，君主，最高统治者 | |
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4
speculative
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| adj.思索性的，暝想性的，推理的 | |
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5
ted
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| vt.翻晒，撒，撒开 | |
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6
ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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7
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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8
lugs
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| 钎柄 | |
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9
bout
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| n.侵袭，发作；一次(阵，回)；拳击等比赛 | |
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10
finesse
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| n.精密技巧，灵巧，手腕 | |
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11
kin
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| n.家族，亲属，血缘关系；adj.亲属关系的，同类的 | |
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12
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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13
jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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14
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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15
bully
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| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
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16
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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17
rite
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| n.典礼，惯例，习俗 | |
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18
labors
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| v.努力争取(for)( labor的第三人称单数 )；苦干；详细分析；（指引擎）缓慢而困难地运转 | |
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19
bullied
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| adj.被欺负了v.恐吓，威逼( bully的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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20
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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21
rhythmical
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| adj.有节奏的，有韵律的 | |
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22
squeaking
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| v.短促地尖叫( squeak的现在分词 )；吱吱叫；告密；充当告密者 | |
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23
constructive
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| adj.建设的，建设性的 | |
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24
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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25
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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26
unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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27
scatter
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| vt.撒，驱散，散开；散布/播；vi.分散，消散 | |
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28
lone
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| adj.孤寂的，单独的；唯一的 | |
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29
scrawled
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| 乱涂，潦草地写( scrawl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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30
yearned
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| 渴望，切盼，向往( yearn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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31
originality
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| n.创造力，独创性；新颖 | |
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32
snob
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| n.势利小人，自以为高雅、有学问的人 | |
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33
zoom
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| n.急速上升；v.突然扩大，急速上升 | |
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34
magenta
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| n..紫红色（的染料）；adj.紫红色的 | |
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35
tasseled
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| v.抽穗， （玉米）长穗须( tassel的过去式和过去分词 )；使抽穗， （为了使作物茁壮生长）摘去穗状雄花；用流苏装饰 | |
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36
inscribed
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| v.写，刻( inscribe的过去式和过去分词 )；内接 | |
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37
zest
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| n.乐趣；滋味，风味；兴趣 | |
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38
automobile
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| n.汽车，机动车 | |
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39
impromptu
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| adj.即席的，即兴的；adv.即兴的(地)，无准备的(地) | |
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40
frescoes
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| n.壁画( fresco的名词复数 )；温壁画技法，湿壁画 | |
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41
depicting
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| 描绘，描画( depict的现在分词 )； 描述 | |
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42
ponderous
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| adj.沉重的，笨重的，(文章)冗长的 | |
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43
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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44
grill
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| n.烤架，铁格子，烤肉；v.烧，烤，严加盘问 | |
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45
strings
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| n.弦 | |
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46
beads
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| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
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47
tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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48
auld
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| adj.老的，旧的 | |
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49
syne
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| adv.自彼时至此时，曾经 | |
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50
blithely
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| adv.欢乐地，快活地，无挂虑地 | |
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51
patriotism
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| n.爱国精神，爱国心，爱国主义 | |
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52
dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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53
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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54
glossy
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| adj.平滑的；有光泽的 | |
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55
abdomen
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| n.腹，下腹(胸部到腿部的部分) | |
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56
rumbled
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| 发出隆隆声，发出辘辘声( rumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 轰鸣着缓慢行进； 发现…的真相； 看穿（阴谋） | |
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57
grunts
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的第三人称单数 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说； 石鲈 | |
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58
swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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59
compartment
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| n.卧车包房，隔间；分隔的空间 | |
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60
unfamiliar
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| adj.陌生的，不熟悉的 | |
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61
contractor
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| n.订约人，承包人，收缩肌 | |
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62
orchids
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| n.兰花( orchid的名词复数 ) | |
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63
insignificance
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| n.不重要；无价值；无意义 | |
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64
metropolis
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| n.首府；大城市 | |
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65
joyfully
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| adv. 喜悦地, 高兴地 | |
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66
spurted
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| （液体，火焰等）喷出，（使）涌出( spurt的过去式和过去分词 )； （短暂地）加速前进，冲刺 | |
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67
voluptuous
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| adj.肉欲的，骄奢淫逸的 | |
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68
berth
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| n.卧铺，停泊地，锚位；v.使停泊 | |
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69
pajamas
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| n.睡衣裤 | |
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70
aisle
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| n.（教堂、教室、戏院等里的）过道，通道 | |
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71
luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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72
woolen
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| adj.羊毛(制)的；毛纺的 | |
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73
dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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74
nauseating
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| adj.令人恶心的，使人厌恶的v.使恶心，作呕( nauseate的现在分词 ) | |
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75
dealer
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| n.商人，贩子 | |
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76
exiguous
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| adj.不足的，太少的 | |
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77
ballroom
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| n.舞厅 | |
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78
crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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79
orators
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| n.演说者，演讲家( orator的名词复数 ) | |
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80
orator
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| n.演说者，演讲者，雄辩家 | |
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81
beseeching
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| adj.恳求似的v.恳求，乞求（某事物）( beseech的现在分词 ) | |
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82
penetrating
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| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
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83
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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84
pastor
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| n.牧师，牧人 | |
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85
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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86
prospects
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| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
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87
incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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88
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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89
amber
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| n.琥珀；琥珀色；adj.琥珀制的 | |
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90
chrysanthemum
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| n.菊，菊花 | |
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91
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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92
automobiles
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| n.汽车( automobile的名词复数 ) | |
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93
celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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94
ambled
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| v.（马）缓行( amble的过去式和过去分词 )；从容地走，漫步 | |
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95
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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96
elks
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| n.麋鹿( elk的名词复数 ) | |
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97
delegation
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| n.代表团；派遣 | |
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98
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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99
spat
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| n.口角，掌击；v.发出呼噜呼噜声 | |
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100
bellowed
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| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的过去式和过去分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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101
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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102
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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103
shredded
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| shred的过去式和过去分词 | |
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104
petals
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| n.花瓣( petal的名词复数 ) | |
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105
gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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106
disintegrated
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| v.（使）破裂[分裂，粉碎]，（使）崩溃( disintegrate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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107
indefatigably
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| adv.不厌倦地，不屈不挠地 | |
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108
suburban
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| adj.城郊的，在郊区的 | |
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109
devoured
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| 吞没( devour的过去式和过去分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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110
lumber
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| n.木材，木料；v.以破旧东西堆满；伐木；笨重移动 | |
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111
haze
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| n.霾，烟雾；懵懂，迷糊；vi.(over)变模糊 | |
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112
afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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113
minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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114
diplomat
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| n.外交官，外交家；能交际的人，圆滑的人 | |
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115
confide
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| v.向某人吐露秘密 | |
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116
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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117
reverently
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| adv.虔诚地 | |
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118
delegations
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| n.代表团( delegation的名词复数 )；委托，委派 | |
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119
hospitable
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| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
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120
trumpets
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| 喇叭( trumpet的名词复数 )； 小号； 喇叭形物； （尤指）绽开的水仙花 | |
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121
bass
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| n.男低音(歌手)；低音乐器；低音大提琴 | |
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122
extraordinarily
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| adv.格外地；极端地 | |
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123
baton
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| n.乐队用指挥杖 | |
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124
harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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125
almighty
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| adj.全能的，万能的；很大的，很强的 | |
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126
bereaved
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| adj.刚刚丧失亲人的v.使失去（希望、生命等）( bereave的过去式和过去分词)；（尤指死亡）使丧失（亲人、朋友等）；使孤寂；抢走（财物） | |
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127
authorized
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| a.委任的，许可的 | |
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128
sane
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| adj.心智健全的，神志清醒的，明智的，稳健的 | |
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129
awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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130
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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131
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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132
insufficient
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| adj.(for，of)不足的，不够的 | |
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133
lettuce
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| n.莴苣；生菜 | |
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134
shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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135
giggled
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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136
prosaically
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| adv.无聊地；乏味地；散文式地；平凡地 | |
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137
cocktail
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| n.鸡尾酒；餐前开胃小吃；混合物 | |
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138
cocktails
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| n.鸡尾酒( cocktail的名词复数 )；餐前开胃菜；混合物 | |
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139
dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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140
dividend
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| n.红利，股息；回报，效益 | |
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141
emphatic
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| adj.强调的，着重的；无可置疑的，明显的 | |
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142
corrosive
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| adj.腐蚀性的；有害的；恶毒的 | |
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143
imploring
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| 恳求的，哀求的 | |
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144
embalming
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| v.保存（尸体）不腐( embalm的现在分词 )；使不被遗忘；使充满香气 | |
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145
guffaws
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| n.大笑，狂笑( guffaw的名词复数 )v.大笑，狂笑( guffaw的第三人称单数 ) | |
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146
busting
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| 打破，打碎( bust的现在分词 )； 突击搜查（或搜捕）； （使）降级，降低军阶 | |
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147
aurora
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| n.极光 | |
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148
babbled
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| v.喋喋不休( babble的过去式和过去分词 )；作潺潺声（如流水）；含糊不清地说话；泄漏秘密 | |
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149
genially
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| adv.亲切地，和蔼地；快活地 | |
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150
moorish
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| adj.沼地的，荒野的，生[住]在沼地的 | |
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151
promenade
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| n./v.散步 | |
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152
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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153
herald
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| vt.预示...的来临，预告，宣布，欢迎 | |
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154
wrens
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| n.鹪鹩( wren的名词复数 ) | |
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155
bevy
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| n.一群 | |
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156
burlesque
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| v.嘲弄，戏仿；n.嘲弄，取笑，滑稽模仿 | |
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157
steer
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| vt.驾驶，为…操舵；引导；vi.驾驶 | |
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158
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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159
blues
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| n.抑郁，沮丧；布鲁斯音乐 | |
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160
skit
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| n.滑稽短剧；一群 | |
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161
navigating
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| v.给（船舶、飞机等）引航，导航( navigate的现在分词 )；（从海上、空中等）横越；横渡；飞跃 | |
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162
embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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163
croaked
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| v.呱呱地叫( croak的过去式和过去分词 )；用粗的声音说 | |
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164
bum
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| n.臀部；流浪汉，乞丐；vt.乞求，乞讨 | |
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165
flamboyantly
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| adv.艳丽地、奢华地、绚丽地。 | |
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166
comedian
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| n.喜剧演员；滑稽演员 | |
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167
stinking
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| adj.臭的，烂醉的，讨厌的v.散发出恶臭( stink的现在分词 )；发臭味；名声臭；糟透 | |
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168
sleek
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| adj.光滑的，井然有序的；v.使光滑，梳拢 | |
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169
shuffled
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| v.洗（纸牌）( shuffle的过去式和过去分词 )；拖着脚步走；粗心地做；摆脱尘世的烦恼 | |
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170
supple
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| adj.柔软的，易弯的，逢迎的，顺从的，灵活的；vt.使柔软，使柔顺，使顺从；vi.变柔软，变柔顺 | |
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171
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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172
pliant
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| adj.顺从的；可弯曲的 | |
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173
scotch
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| n.伤口，刻痕；苏格兰威士忌酒；v.粉碎，消灭，阻止；adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
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174
ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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175
mellowness
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| 成熟； 芳醇； 肥沃； 怡然 | |
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176
brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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177
savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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178
amiably
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| adv.和蔼可亲地，亲切地 | |
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179
outskirts
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| n.郊外，郊区 | |
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180
rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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181
perilous
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| adj.危险的，冒险的 | |
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182
murky
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| adj.黑暗的，朦胧的；adv.阴暗地，混浊地；n.阴暗；昏暗 | |
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183
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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184
joints
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| 接头( joint的名词复数 )； 关节； 公共场所（尤指价格低廉的饮食和娱乐场所） （非正式）； 一块烤肉 （英式英语） | |
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185
irritable
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| adj.急躁的；过敏的；易怒的 | |
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186
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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