diff options
Diffstat (limited to '37899.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 37899.txt | 3002 |
1 files changed, 3002 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/37899.txt b/37899.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..99b49cb --- /dev/null +++ b/37899.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3002 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Life's Minor Collisions, by +Frances Warner and Gertrude Warner + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Life's Minor Collisions + +Author: Frances Warner + Gertrude Warner + +Release Date: November 1, 2011 [EBook #37899] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIFE'S MINOR COLLISIONS *** + + + + +Produced by Jana Srna and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + + [ Transcriber's Notes: + + Every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully + as possible, including inconsistencies in spelling and hyphenation. + Some corrections of spelling and punctuation have been made. They + are listed at the end of the text. + + Italic text has been marked with _underscores_. + ] + + + + + LIFE'S MINOR COLLISIONS + + BY + FRANCES AND GERTRUDE WARNER + + AUTHORS (RESPECTIVELY) OF "ENDICOTT AND I" + AND "HOUSE OF DELIGHT" + + + BOSTON AND NEW YORK + HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY + The Riverside Press Cambridge + 1921 + + + COPYRIGHT, 1921, BY HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY + + ALL RIGHTS RESERVED + + + + +TO OUR GRANDMOTHER +MARCIA JANE CHANDLER CARPENTER +WHO NEVER COLLIDES + + + + +WHY MINOR? + + +Collisions are measured by what they will smash. Potentially, all +collisions are major. A slight blow will explode a bomb. But since most +of us do not commonly carry dynamite through the busy sections of this +life, we can take a good many brisk knocks and still survive. + +The collisions, though dealt with in separate chapters by two of us, are +seldom between two people alone. They are collisions, mostly minor, +between the individual and the group, the individual and circumstances, +the individual and the horse he rides on. + +All the chapters are for those kindred spirits who try to be easy to +live with--and find it difficult. + + F. L. W. + G. C. W. + + + + +CONTENTS + + + Love's Minor Frictions 1 + + Boston Streets 27 + + To Horse 37 + + Wheels and how they go round 55 + + The Will to boss 73 + + More to it than you'd think 97 + + Trio Impetuoso 111 + + The Return of A, B, C 134 + + Understanding the Healthy 146 + + Carving at Table 162 + + The Feeling of Irritation 175 + + +NOTE + +Acknowledgment of permission to reprint certain of these papers is made +to the editors of _The Atlantic Monthly_, _Education_, _The Ladies' Home +Journal_, _The Outlook_, _Scribner's Magazine_, and _The Unpartizan +Review_. + + + + +LIFE'S MINOR COLLISIONS + + + + +LOVE'S MINOR FRICTIONS + + +Minor friction is the kind that produces the most showy results with the +smallest outlay. You can stir up more electricity in a cat by stroking +her fur the wrong way than you can by dropping her into the well. You +can ruffle the dearest member of your family more by asking him twice if +he is _sure_ that he locked the back door than his political opponents +could stir him with a libel. We have direct access to the state of mind +of the people with whom we share household life and love. Therefore, in +most homes, no matter how congenial, a certain amount of minor friction +is inevitable. + +Four typical causes of minor friction are questions of _tempo_, the +brotherly reform measure, supervised telephone conversations, and tenure +of parental control. These are standard group-irritants that sometimes +vex the sweetest natures. + +The matter of _tempo_, broadly considered, covers the whole process of +adjustment between people of hasty and deliberate moods. It involves +alertness of spiritual response, alacrity in taking hints and filling +orders, timely appreciations, considerate delays, and all the other +delicate retards and accelerations that are necessary if hearts are to +beat as one. But it also includes such homely questions as the time for +setting out for places, the time consumed in getting ready to set out, +and the swiftness of our progress thither. When a man who is tardy is +unequally yoked with a wife who is prompt, their family moves from point +to point with an irregularity of rhythm that lends suspense to the +mildest occasions. + +A certain architect and his wife Sue are a case in point. Sue is always +on time. If she is going to drive at four, she has her children ready at +half-past three, and she stations them in the front hall, with muscles +flexed, at ten minutes to four, so that the whole group may emerge from +the door like food shot from guns, and meet the incoming automobile +accurately at the curb. Nobody ever stops his engine for Sue. Her +husband is correspondingly late. Just after they were married, the choir +at their church gambled quietly on the chances--whether she would get +him to church on time, or whether he would make her late. The first +Sunday they came five minutes early, the second ten minutes late, and +every Sunday after that, Sue came early, Prescott came late, and the +choir put their money into the contribution-box. In fact, a family of +this kind can solve its problem most neatly by running on independent +schedules, except when they are to ride in the same automobile or on the +same train. Then, there is likely to be a breeze. + +But the great test of such a family's grasp of the time-element comes +when they have a guest who must catch a given car, due to pass the white +post at the corner at a quarter to the hour. The visit is drawing to a +close, with five minutes to spare before car-time. Those members of the +family who like to wait until the last moment, and take their chances of +boarding the running-board on the run, continue a lively conversation +with the guest. But the prompt ones, with furtive eye straying to the +clock, begin to sit forward uneasily in their chairs, their faces drawn, +pulse feverish, pondering the question whether it is better to let a +guest miss a car or seem to hurry him away. The situation is all the +harder for the prompt contingent, because usually they have behind them +a criminal record of occasions when they have urged guests to the curb +in plenty of time and the car turned out to be late. The runners and +jumpers of the family had said it would be late, and it was late. These +memories restrain speech until the latest possible moment. Then the +guest is whisked out to the white post with the words, "If you _could_ +stay, we'd be delighted, but if you really _have_ to make your train--" +Every punctual person knows the look of patronage with which the +leisured classes of his family listen to this old speech of his. They +find something nervous and petty about his prancing and pawing, quite +inferior to their large oblivion. As Tagore would say, "They are not too +poor to be late." + +The matter of _tempo_ involves also the sense of the fortunate moment, +and the timing of deeds to accord with moods. In almost every group +there is one member who is set at a slightly different velocity from the +others, with a momentum not easily checked. When the rest of the +household settles down to pleasant conversation, this member thinks of +something pressing that must be done at once. + +The mother of three college boys is being slowly trained out of this +habit. Her sons say that she ought to have been a fire-chief, so brisk +is she when in her typical hook-and-ladder mood. Whenever her family +sits talking in the evening, she has flitting memories of things that +she must run and do. One night, when she had suddenly rushed out to see +if the maid had remembered to put out the milk tickets, one of the boys +was dispatched with a warrant for her arrest. He traced her to the door +of the side porch, and peered out at her in the darkness. "What's little +pussy-foot doing now?" he inquired affectionately. "Can she see better +in the dark? Come along back." But her blood was up. She thought of +several other duties still waiting, and went at once to the kitchen and +filled the dipper. With this she returned to the room where sat the +waiting conversationalists, and systematically watered the fern. It was +like wearing orange to a Sinn Fein rally. At the chorus of reproach she +only laughed, the scornful laugh of the villain on the stage. Six +determined hands seized her at once. The boys explained that, when they +wanted to talk to her, it was no time to water ferns. As habitual +breaker-up of public meetings, she was going to be reformed. + +But the reform measure, a group-irritant second to none, is generally +uphill business in the home. Welfare work among equals is sometimes +imperative, but seldom popular. Any programme of social improvement +implies agitation and a powerful leverage of public opinion not wholly +tranquillizing to the person to be reformed. + +There is one family that has worked for years upon the case of one of +its members who reads aloud out of season. When this brother William +finds a noble bit of literature, he is fired to share it with his +relatives, regardless of time and circumstances. He comes eagerly out of +his study, book in hand, when his public is trying on a dress. Or he +begins to read without warning, when all the other people in the room +are reading something else. Arguments and penalties never had the +slightest effect, until one of the company hit upon a device that proves +a defensive measure in emergencies. + +Brother William started suddenly to read aloud from a campaign speech. +His youngest sister was absorbed in that passage in "Edwin Drood" called +"A Night With Durdles," where Jasper and Durdles are climbing the +cathedral spire. In self-defence she also began to read in a clear tone +as follows: "Anon, they turn into narrower and steeper staircases, and +the night air begins to blow upon them, and the chirp of some startled +jackdaw or frightened rook precedes the heavy beating of wings in a +confined space, and the beating down of dust and straws upon their +heads." + +The idea spread like wildfire. All the others opened their books and +magazines and joined her in reading aloud from the page where they had +been interrupted. It was a deafening medley of incongruous material--a +very telling demonstration of the distance from which their minds had +jumped when recalled to the campaign speech. Brother William was able to +distinguish in the uproar such fragments as these: "Just at that moment +I discovered four Spad machines far below the enemy planes"; "'Thankyou +thankyou,' cried Mr. Salteena--"; "Thomas Chatterton Jupiter Zeus, a +most dear wood-rat"; and "'It is natural,' Gavin said slowly, 'that you, +sir, should wonder why I am here with this woman at such an hour.'" + +This method did not work a permanent cure, because nothing ever cures +the reader-aloud. His impulse is generosity--a mainspring of character, +not a passing whim. But at a crisis, his audience can read aloud in +concert. + +The reform measure is more hopeful when directed, not at a rooted trait, +but at a surface phase or custom. Even here success is not without its +battles. My sister Barbara and I were once bent upon teaching our +younger brother Geoffrey to rise when ladies entered the room. Geoffrey, +then at the brigand age, looked at this custom as the mannerism of an +effete civilization. He rose, indeed, for guests, but not as to the +manner born. One day he came home and reported that the lady next door +had introduced him to an aunt of hers who had just arrived on a visit. +"And," said he, with speculative eye upon his sisters, "_I didn't get up +to be introduced._" + +The effect was all that heart could wish. Tongues flew. Geoffrey +listened with mournful dignity, offering no excuse. He waited until our +sisterly vocabulary was exhausted. + +"Why didn't you ask me where I was when she introduced me?" he asked at +length. "I was crawling along the ridgepole of her garage catching her +cat for her, and I couldn't get up." + +But we were not easily diverted from our attempts to foster in him the +manly graces. We even went so far as to invite Geoffrey to afternoon +tea-parties with our friends. But a Tea-Lion, he said, was one thing +that he was not. On such occasions he would be found sitting on the +kitchen table dourly eating up the olives and refusing to come in. We +were too young in those days to know that you cannot hurry a certain +phase. But now, when we meet our brother at receptions, we smile at our +former despair. Reformers often find their hardest tasks taken out of +their hands by time. + +Few brothers and sisters, however, are willing to trust to time to work +its wonders. There is a sense of fraternal responsibility that goads us +to do what we can for each other in a small way. The friction that +ensues constitutes an experience of human values that the hermit in his +cell can never know. Whenever people of decided views feel personally +responsible for each other's acts, a type of social unrest begins to +brew that sometimes leads to progress and sometimes leads to riots. + +For this reason, in any home that aspires to peace at any price, the +telephone should be installed in a sound-proof box-office with no glass +in the door. There is nothing that so incenses a friendly nature as a +family grouped in the middle-distance offering advice when a telephone +conversation is going on. The person at the receiver looks so idle; +there seems to be no reason why he should not listen with his unoccupied +ear; and, when he is so evidently in need of correct data, it seems only +kind to help him out. It is the most natural thing in the world to +listen. The family listens, in the first place, to find out which one of +them is wanted, and they continue to listen to find out what is said. +When the wrong thing is said, all loyal relatives feel responsible. + +The person telephoning is unfairly handicapped by necessary politeness, +because he can be heard through the transmitter and his advisers cannot. +Only extreme exasperation can unleash his tongue, as happened once when +Geoffrey, in our father's absence, undertook to answer a telephone call +while Barbara, in the next room, corrected his mistakes. + +Geoffrey, pricking both ears, was doing very well, until the lady at the +other end of the line asked a question at the exact moment when Barbara +offered a new thought. "What did you say?" inquired Geoffrey. Both +Barbara and the lady repeated. "What is it?" said Geoffrey, waving one +foot at Barbara. Barbara, not seeing the foot, repeated, and so did the +lady, this time more distinctly. "I beg your pardon," said Geoffrey +anxiously, "but what did you say?" Like an incredible nightmare the +thing happened again. "Shut up!" roared Geoffrey; "what did you say?" + +Barbara, recognizing instantly that part of the message directed to her, +wrote her suggestion on the telephone pad and stole prudently away. +Minor friction, she had learned, can sometimes lead to action on a large +scale. Only after some such experience as this do we allow a kinsman to +conduct his own telephone conversations, taking his own +responsibilities, running his own dark risks. + +But the sense of mutual responsibility is, after all, the prime +educational factor in family life. Every good parent has a feeling of +accountability for the acts of his children. He may believe in +self-determination for the small States about him, but after all he +holds a mandate. The delightful interweaving of parental suggestion with +the original tendencies of the various children is the delicate thing +that makes each family individual. It is also the delicate thing that +makes parenthood a nervous occupation. When parental suggestion is going +to interweave delightfully as planned, and when it is not going to +interweave at all, is something not foretold in the prophets. + +The question of parental influence becomes more complex as the family +grows older and more informally organized. Sometimes a son or daughter +wants to carry out a pet project without any advice or warning or help +from anybody. There is nothing rash or guilty about his plan. He simply +happens to be in the mood to act, not in committee, but of himself. To +achieve this, surrounded by a united and conversational family, becomes +a game of skill. To dodge advice, he avoids the most innocent questions. +At such times as these, the wisest parents wonder what they have done to +forfeit confidence. They see this favorite son of theirs executing the +most harmless plans with all the secrecy of the young poisoning princes +of the Renaissance. + +When this happens, the over-sensitive parent grieves, the dictatorial +parent rails, but the philosophical parent picks up whatever interesting +morsels he can on the side, and cocks a weather eye. + +"Robert seems to have a good many engagements," wrote the mother of a +popular son in a letter to an absent daughter, "but whether the nature +of the engagements is social, athletic, or philanthropic, we can only +infer from the equipment with which he sets out. I inferred the first +this morning when he asked me to have his dress-suit sent to be pressed; +but I could not be certain until Mrs. Stone said casually that Robert +was to be a guest at Mrs. Gardiner's dinner next week. Don't you love to +see such tender intimacy between mother and son?" + +Secrecy of this kind is not the monopoly of sons. Excellent young women +have chopped ice and frozen sherbet behind closed doors because they did +not want to be told again not to get the ice all over the back piazza. +Certain warnings go with certain projects as inevitably as rubbers with +the rain. The practised mother has so often found the warnings +necessary, that the mere sight of the act produces the formula by rote. +Model sons and daughters should accept these hints with gratitude, thus +avoiding all friction, however minor. But rather than be advised to do +that which they were planning to do already, the most loyal of daughters +will resort to clandestine measures, and go stealthily with the ice-pick +as with a poniard beneath a cloak. This annoys an affectionate and +capable mother very much. And she has a right to be annoyed, has she +not? After all, it is her ice-pick. + +There is something of spirited affection about the memory of all these +early broils. They were heated enough at the time, for the most violent +emotions can fly out at a trifling cause. Remarks made in these +turbulent moments are often taken as a revelation of your true and +inward self. The sentiments that you express in your moment of wrath +sound like something that you have been repressing for years and are now +turning loose upon an enlightened world. There is an air of desperate +sincerity about your remarks that makes your hearers feel that here, at +last, they have the truth. + +With friends, after such an outburst, you could never feel quite the +same again. But with your relatives, such moments can be lived down--as +once occurred in our own family when our father one hot summer day sent +Geoffrey back to town to perform a forgotten errand. I had not heard of +the event until I took my place at table. + +"Where's Geoffrey?" said I. + +"I sent him back to get a letter he forgot," said my father. + +"In all this heat?" I protested. "Well, if I had been in his place, I'd +have gone away and stayed away." + +"Well, you could," said my father serenely. + +"Well, I will," said Little Sunshine, and walked out of the door and up +the street in a rage. + +After you have left your parental home as suddenly as this, there comes +a moment when you have the sensation of being what is termed "all +dressed up with no place to go." You feel that your decision, though +sudden, is irrevocable, because going back would mean death to your +pride. You try to fight off the practical thought that you can hardly go +far without hat or scrip. Therefore, when Geoffrey met his eloping +sister at the corner, it was with some little diplomacy that he learned +my history and took me back to the table under his wing. The +conversation barely paused as we took our places. Our father went on +affably serving the salad to the just and the unjust alike. If, at this +point, I had been treated with the contumely that I deserved, the memory +would be unpleasant in the minds of all. As it is, the family now +mentions it as the time when Margaret ran away to sea. + +The only thing that can make minor friction hurtful is the +disproportionate importance that it can assume when it is treated as a +major issue, or taken as an indication of mutual dislike. It is often an +indication of the opposite, though at the moment the contestants would +find this hard to believe. Kept in its place, however, we find in it +later a great deal of humorous charm, because it belongs to a period +when we dealt with our brethren with a primitive directness not possible +in later years. An intricate ambition, this matter of harmony in the +home. Ideally, every family would like to have a history of +uninterrupted adorations and exquisite accord. But growth implies +change, change implies adjustment, and adjustment among varied +personalities implies friction. Kept at the minimum, kept in its place, +such friction does not estrange. Instead, it becomes a means to an +intimate acquaintance with one another's traits and moods--an intimacy +of understanding not far remote from love. + + + + +BOSTON STREETS + + +I am trying to learn how to get from the Majestic Theatre to the South +Station. I am convinced that in time I might be able to learn this, if I +were not also trying at the same time to learn how to get from the +Hollis Street Theatre to the Dennison Manufacturing Company on Franklin +Street. + +I suppose that trying to solve two problems simultaneously is always +confusing. A student trying to compute problems with both hands at the +same time--problems dealing respectively with yards and pounds--might +ultimately confuse his inches with ounces. Similarly, I confuse Eliot +Street and Essex, Kneeland and Otis. + +My brother Geoffrey who goes with me to Boston thinks that this is +funny; that is, he thinks it something appalling that should be +remedied. In consequence of this, he draws for me a series of beautiful +little sketches on an envelope he has about him. He letters the roads +meticulously with a fountain pen, traces our route-to-be with little +arrows, and then flings me heartlessly into the Boston Streets. + +Boston Streets, and Boston Streets on an envelope, are not alike at all. +On the envelope, the streets are simple lines, all related to each +other; in reality, each street is an individual personality, distracting +you from a noble grasp of the Whole, by presenting the sole gigantic +unit of itself, further complicated by detail. Geoffrey is not bothered +by a unit, or by a detail. He branches from one street into another with +as sure an instinct as a cat who retraces on foot a journey once +traversed in a bag. + +This is not because he _knows_ Boston, but because he has a _capacity_ +for Boston. He leads me patiently over one route a great many times, +verifying our position at intervals with reference to his map. After a +day at my books, I am faint-heartedly supposed to have comprehended a +fact. When this actually takes place, it is very hard for me to conceal +my pride in any trifling bit of erudition which I may have accidentally +picked up about Boston. Once I distinctly remember saying to Geoffrey, +"Do you want to walk down to the Colonial Theatre or shall we go by +Subway?" Since we were at that time near the entrance of a suitable +subway, my good brother stared at me in radiant expectation. I fear that +he hoped that I was at last laying a slight hold on a working knowledge +of his favorite city. But his hope was unfounded, for this glimmer of +mine was one of only four facts that I have actually been able to learn +about the crooked miles in Boston. + +The remaining three truths are here recorded for the curious. + +I know the Public Library, from any angle, without map or guide, by its +fair face alone, and how to reach it from the station at Back Bay. +(This, in such a meagre description of Boston, might perhaps qualify as +two distinct facts.) I know that if one walks far enough past the +Library, in the direction in which the lady with the black ball is +looking, one will eventually come to Commonwealth Avenue, where eozoic +cabbies may be seen. And now that we have unearthed, on our way back to +the station, the Copley Theatre, I am sure that I could go to Boston, +friendless, find this theatre, lunch across the street, and retrace my +steps to some proper railway. + +It may seem to the observer that I am abnormally interested in finding +my way to the theatres. I am. This is my primary reason for going to +Boston at all; and surely it is a quiet wish to do a little shopping and +get a lunch before the play begins. Therefore, our main interest lies in +locating, on each trip, one theatre and one depot. Then, if time +permits, I am supposed to articulate a shop of some kind from the tangle +of Butterfly Boxes, Corner Book Stores, and Florist windows, and some +sort of hostelry where we can eat. If my guide is less obdurate than +usual about compelling me to find my way without his assistance, he +shows me the front steps of a Department Store _once_. Then I am +supposed to know that store for all time, when viewing it from all +angles--from its front door, its back door, its basement, and from its +roof. I am supposed to know what store I am in from the looks of the +elevator boys. It always gives me acute pain to disappoint a valued +friend. Hence, in a department store, I suffer. Once inside the store, I +can find my way about very easily. I merely do not know what street I am +on. + +There are certain things in Boston about which even Geoffrey inquires. +This concession on his part, instead of bringing him down to my fallible +human level, instantly elevates him to a still higher caste. He makes +his inquiries of policemen, and he understands what they say. When a +policeman directs _me_--solitary--to go up one street and down another, +and mixes in a little of the Public Garden or the Common, I cannot carry +his kind words in my mind, even with the aid of a mnemonic. He cannot +direct me from the known to the unknown, because I know nothing. He +cannot explain to me; he has to go with me. I do not know the Common +from the Public Garden. They both look like gardens to me, both equally +public, and neither, common. "But," protests my brother, "the Public +Garden is regular--a rectangle. And the Common is irregular--a +trapezium." This is perfectly true on the envelope (now dirty). But when +you are in the park itself, you are not especially aware of its shape. +Individual pigeons are more obvious. The park is too big to look square. + +In just this same way, Washington Street is too big to look parallel. +When you are on Washington Street, and it alone, it is not blindingly +parallel to anything, unless, perhaps, the other side of itself. And if +my policeman, on his pretty horse, should tell me that that was Tremont +Street, I should believe him. Boston has done as bad. It would be no +stranger than it is to spring miraculously from Summer Street into +Winter, simply by following it across the road. In fact, I was not aware +that we had changed streets at all, when on my maiden trip through this +section. I preserved to the end an hallucination that I was still on +Summer Street. + +Perhaps a few will do me the magnificent honor of absolving me from +boasting, when I say that I am capable of apprehending really nice bits +of information in other walks of life;--other than Boston walks. I can +pick you out a pneumonia germ from under the microscope, and count your +red corpuscles for you. I can receive the Continental Code by wireless, +and play on a violoncello. I can get a baby to sleep. + +But I cannot tell you where you are in Boston. There are people who +would not admit this. They would set themselves, with their faces +steadfastly toward the Hub, to learn. Geoffrey is one of these. But I +have neither the time nor the proper shoes. I readily admit that Boston +is too much for me at my age. So I take my brother with me. Then I +placidly relegate Boston Streets to that list of things which I am +constitutionally unable to learn:--how to tat, just what is a Stock, and +what a Bond, and the difference between a Democrat and a Republican. + + + + +TO HORSE + + +"A duck," we used to read in the primer at school, "a duck is a long low +animal covered with feathers." Similarly, a horse is a long high animal, +covered with confusion. This applies to the horse as we find him in the +patriotic Parade, where a brass-band precedes him, an unaccustomed rider +surmounts him, and a drum-corps brings up his rear. + +In our own Welcome Home Parade, after the boys returned from France, the +Legion decided to double the number of its mounted effectives: all the +overseas officers should ride. All the overseas officers were instantly +on their feet. Their protests were loud and heated. A horse, they said, +was something that they personally had never bestridden. They offered to +ride anything else. They would fly down the avenue in Spads, or do the +falling leaf over the arch of triumph. They would ride tanks or +motor-cycles or army-trucks. But a horse was a thing of independent +locomotion, not to be trifled with. It was not the idea of getting +killed that they objected to, it was the looks of the thing. By "the +thing," they meant not the horse, but the rider. + +In spite of the veto of the officers, the motion was carried by +acclamation. The mediaeval charm of a mounted horse-guard instantly +kindled the community imagination. The chaplain, fresh from the navy, +was promised a milk-white palfrey for his especial use, if he would wear +his ice-cream suit for the occasion. + +There was no time to practise before the event, but the boys were told +to give themselves no anxiety about mounts. Well-bred and competent +horses would appear punctually just before the time for falling in. The +officers were instructed to go to a certain corner of a side street, +find the fence behind the garage where the animals would be tied, select +their favorite form of horse from the collection they would see there, +and ride him up to the green. + +When Geoffrey came home and said that he was to ride a horse in the +procession, our mother, who had been a good horsewoman in her girlhood, +took him aside and gave him a few quiet tips. Some horses, she said, had +been trained to obey certain signals, and some to obey the exact +opposite. For instance, some would go faster if you reined them in, and +some would slow down. Some waited for light touches from their master's +hand or foot, and others for their master's voice. You had to study your +horse as an individual. + +Geoffrey said that he was glad to hear any little inside gossip of this +sort, and made his way alone to the place appointed, skilfully dodging +friends. We gathered that if he had to have an interview with a horse, +he preferred to have it with nobody looking on. + +The fence behind the garage was fringed with horses securely tied, and +the top of the fence was fringed with a row of small boys, waiting. +Geoffrey approached the line of horses, and glanced judicially down the +row. Books on "Reading Character at Sight" make a great point of the +distinctions between blond and brunette, the concave and the convex +profile, the glance of the eye, and the manner of shaking hands. +Geoffrey could tell at a glance that the handshake of these horses would +be firm and full of decision. As one man they turned and looked at him, +and their eyes were level and inscrutable. + +"Which of these horses," said he to the gang on the fence-top, "would +you take?" + +"This one!" said an eager spokesman. "He didn't move a muscle since they +hitched 'im." + +This recommendation decided the matter instantly. Repose of manner is an +estimable trait in the horse. + +Geoffrey looked his animal over with an artist's eye. It was a slender +creature, with that spare type of beauty that we associate with the +Airedale dog. The horse was not a blond. The stirrups hung invitingly at +the sides. Geoffrey closed the inspection with satisfaction, and +prepared to mount. + +In mounting, does one first untie one's horse and then get on, or may +one, as in a steam-launch, get seated first and then cast off the +painter? Geoffrey could not help recalling a page from "Pickwick +Papers," where Mr. Winkle is climbing up the side of a tall horse at the +Inn, and the 'ostler's boy whispers, "Blowed if the gen'l'man wasn't for +getting up the wrong side." Well, what governs the right and wrong side +of a horse? Douglas Fairbanks habitually avoids the dilemma by mounting +from above--from the roof of a Mexican monastery, for instance, or the +fire-escape of an apartment house. From these points he lands, +perpendicularly. With this ideal in mind, Geoffrey stepped on from the +fence, clamped his legs against the sides of the horse, and walked him +out into the street. + +When I say that he walked him out into the street, I use the English +language as I have seen it used in books, but I think that it was an +experienced rider who first used the idiom. Geoffrey says that he did +not feel, at any time that afternoon, any sensation of walking his +horse, or of doing anything else decisive with him. He walked, to be +sure, dipping his head and rearing it, like a mechanical swan. But on a +horse you miss the sensation of direct control that you have with a +machine. With a machine, you press something, and if a positive reaction +does not follow, you get out and fix something else. Not so with the +horse. When you get upon him you cut yourself off from all accurately +calculable connection with the world. He is, in the last analysis, an +independent personality. His feet are on the ground, and yours are not. + +We bow to literary convention, therefore, when we say that Geoffrey +walked his horse. + +Far ahead of him, he saw the khaki backs of two of his friends who were +also walking their horses. One by one they ambled up to the green and +took places in the ranks. Geoffrey discovered that his horse would stand +well if allowed to droop his long neck and close his eyes. Judged as a +military figure, however, he was a disgrace to the army. If you drew up +the reins to brace his head, he thought it a signal to start, and you +had to take it all back, hastily. With the relaxed rein he collapsed +again, his square head bent in silent prayer. + +With the approach of the band, however, all this changed. He reared +tentatively. Geoffrey discouraged that. Then he curled his body in an +unlovely manner--an indescribable gesture, a sort of sidelong squirm in +semi-circular formation. His rider straightened him out with a fatherly +slap on the flank. + +It was time to start. The band led off. Joy to the world, thought the +horse, the band is gone. The rest of the cavalry moved forward in docile +files, but not he. If that band was going away, he would be the last +person to pursue it. Instead of going forward, he backed. He backed and +backed. There is no emergency brake on a horse. He would have backed to +the end of the procession, through the Knights of Columbus, the Red +Cross, the Elks, the Masons, the D.A.R., the Fire Department, and the +Salvation Army, if it had not been for the drum-corps that led the +infantry. The drum-corps behind him was as terrifying as the band in +front. To avoid the drum-corps, he had to spend part of his time going +away from it. Thus his progress was a little on the principle of the +pendulum. He backed from the band until he had to flee before the drums. + +The ranks of men were demoralized by needless mirth. Army life dulls the +sensibilities to the spectacle of suffering. They could do nothing to +help, except to make a clear passage for Geoffrey as he alternately +backed from the brasses and escaped from the drums. Vibrating in this +way, he could only discourse to his horse with words of feigned +affection, and pray for the panic to pass off. With a cranky automobile, +now, one could have parked down a side street, and later joined the +procession, all trouble repaired. But there was nothing organic the +matter with this horse. Geoffrey could not have parked him in any case, +because it would have been no more possible to turn him toward the +cheering crowds on the pavement than to make him follow the band. The +crowds on the street, in fact, began to regard these actions as a sort +of interesting and decorative manoeuvre, so regular was the advance and +retirement--something in the line of a cotillion. And then the band +stopped playing for a little. Instantly the horse took his place in the +ranks, marched serenely, arched his slim neck, glanced about. All was as +it should be. + +Geoffrey's place was just behind the marshal, supposedly to act as his +aide. During all this absence from his post of duty, the marshal had not +noticed his defection or turned around at all. Now he did so, hastily. + +"Just slip back, will you," he said, "and tell Monroe not to forget the +orders at the reviewing stand." + +Geoffrey opened his mouth to explain his disqualifications as courier, +but at that moment the band struck up, and his charger backed +precipitately. The marshal, seeing this prompt obedience to his request, +faced front, and Geoffrey was left steadily receding, no time to +explain--and the drum-corps was taking a vacation. There was, therefore, +no reason for the horse ever to stop backing, unless he should back +around the world until he heard the band behind him again. As he backed +through the ranks of infantry, Geoffrey shouted the marshal's message to +the officer of the day. He had to talk fast--ships that pass in the +night. But the message was delivered, and he could put his whole mind on +his horse. + +He tried all the signals for forward locomotion that he could devise. +Mother had told him that some horses wait for light touches from their +master's hand or foot. Geoffrey touched his animal here and there, back +of the ear--at the base of the brain. He even kicked a trifle. He jerked +the reins in Morse Code and Continental, to the tune of S O S. The horse +understood no codes. + +They were now in the ranks of the Knights of Columbus, and the marching +boys were making room for them with shouts of sympathetic glee. Must +they back through the Red Cross, where all the girls in town were +marching, and into the Daughters of the Revolution float where our +mother sat with a group of ladies around the spinning-wheel? Geoffrey +remembered that the Red Cross had a band, if it would only play. It +struck up just in time. The horse instantly became a fugitive in the +right direction. On they sped, the reviewing stand almost in sight. The +drum-corps had not begun to play. Could they reach the cavalry before it +was too late? Geoffrey hated to pass the reviewing stand in the guise of +a deserter, yet here he was cantering among the Odd Fellows, undoubtedly +A.W.O.L. + +But Heaven was kind. The drums waited. Through their ranks dashed +Geoffrey at full speed, and into the midst of his companions. The +reviewing stand was very near. At a signal, all bands and all drums +struck up together. The horse, in stable equilibrium at last, daring not +to run forward or to run backward, or to bolt to either side, fell into +step and marched. Deafening cheers, flying handkerchiefs; Geoffrey and +his horse stole past, held in the ranks by a delicate balance of +four-cornered fear. If you fear something behind you and something in +front of you, and things on both sides of you, and if your fear of all +points of the compass is precisely equal, you move with the movements of +the globe. Geoffrey's horse moved that way past the stand. + +People took their pictures. Our father, beaming down from the galaxy on +the stand, was pleased. Later he told Geoffrey how well he sat his +horse. + +But that evening Geoffrey had a talk with his mother, as man to man. He +told her that, if these Victory Parades were going to be held often, he +should vote for compulsory military training for the horse. He told her +the various things his horse had done, how he went to and fro, going to +when urged fro, and going fro when urged not to. + +"Probably he had been trained to obey the opposite signals," said our +mother. "You must study your horse as an individual." + +That horse was an individual. Geoffrey studied him as such. He is quite +willing to believe that he had been trained to obey the opposite +signals. But Geoffrey says that he still cannot stifle one last question +in his mind:--signals opposite to what? + + + + +WHEELS AND HOW THEY GO ROUND + + +It is a simple matter, I have been told, to keep a locomotive running +smoothly on its track, once it is well coaled-up and started. In an +artistic moment in a summer vacation, Margaret and I likened our house +and all its simple well-oiled machinery to a locomotive--Mother and +Carrie being the engineer. + +Therefore, we accepted rather blandly the charge of the house and +grounds while the engineer took a vacation. I rather think we had it in +mind to look in occasionally upon the house as it ran along, and to save +the bulk of the day for other things. We were already accustomed to the +complexities of a house; we had officiated at each separate complexity. +But I am not sure that we did not plan to run the house a trifle more +nonchalantly than the average anxious housewife, and welcome both our +daily duties and any unexpected guests with a minimum of morbid +foreboding. + +The first thing we noticed after we were left alone was a little steady +drip in the back room. This was the refrigerator leaking. When this fact +had once been agreed upon, Margaret and I began to see with eyes of the +mind fragments of motion pictures in which the refrigerator was being +fixed. It is queer what vague remnants of a scene will stay with you, +when at the time of the scene you were not responsible for the outcome. +Margaret, from her ever-active and interesting memory, called up +Mother's dream-shape at the silcock, all ready to turn on the +garden-hose. I dimly remembered Carrie with her arm under the +refrigerator holding the hose and calling respectfully from the back +room--"All ready, mum." So we hatched a plot and proceeded to act it. + +We had to assume the pipe at the rear of the ice-box, for we could not +see it. We assumed also that it was plugged up. I had chanced once upon +Carrie, lying prone on a rug in the back room, directing the nozzle of +the hose into this inaccessible pipe-hole near the farther wall. I +elected to plumb for the hole, with Margaret to run about alternately +holding matches for me and working the spray. My arms are the longer; +her fear of fire is somewhat less. After I had found the hole, Margaret +attached the hose to the silcock outside the house, threaded it through +the screen door, passed the nozzle to me, and went back to turn on the +water. Hose in hand, face averted,--prone,--I waited. Prone means on +your face. If you turn your head to look under the refrigerator, your +arm is not long enough. I directed the water almost wholly by the +Braille system. Why it should have entered into the heart of man to +construct a refrigerator so deep that the arm of man is not long enough +to reach its drain, will have to be explained to us when we reach the +city four-square. But a good workman never finds fault with his tools, +Margaret said, so we set to work with what Nature offered us. + +I soon found that no cue was needed for some of my lines. My manner of +shouting, "Turn it off!" was extremely unstudied;--art disguising art. +Twice the back room was inundated. I became a saturated solution. I felt +like the brave boy of Haarlem. Margaret came in and advanced the theory +that, when you have reached a certain stage of wetness, it does not +matter at all how much more water you lie in. Acting on this +supposition, and with my consent, she turned on all the city's +water-power with great suddenness. I shall always think that this did +make a difference in my wetness, but it dislodged the obstruction. We +could hear the glad water leaping and gurgling through the pipe out of +doors. + +Why this pipe should have had any connection with the boiler and +attendant pipes behind the stove remains forever shrouded in mystery. +These pipes began to leak on the morning of the second day, and we sent +for a plumber. He pronounced us unpatchable, unsolderable. Margaret and +I convened. We decided, in committee of the whole, to be re-piped and +re-boilered. We did not know then that the plumbers were going to find +still more serious trouble with the pipes that led to the main. Were we +justified in ordering complete repairs? Our eternal query of Life +became, "What would Mother do?" We went the whole figure--well up into +three figures. + +It was not until the third day that we succeeded in making our +nonchalance at all prominent. We invited a guest to supper, +nonchalantly. She was not the type of guest that you take into the +kitchen and tie an apron around. In her honor, we decided to have, among +other things, popovers and cherry pie. We decided that we could +conventionally have popovers because the hour was really a supper hour; +that we might have cherry pie because the meal was really a dinner. To +make this strange plan at all intelligible, I shall have to state that, +as far as our names are known, we are famous for our popovers and our +cherry pie. We were at our nonchalant best. + +Our cherry tree is a unique specimen among the vegetables. It has a +curious short, gnarled trunk just as a cherry tree should; but, aside +from that, it runs along the general lines of a spirea. Each main +branch, nearly six inches in diameter at the point of departure, +sprangles instantly into showers of fragile twigs. These in turn branch +gracefully higher and higher, occasional cherries on the outskirts. To +pick our cherries, one really ought to be a robin. Each cherry has an +exquisite red cheek and a black ant running to and fro across it. + +We chose Margaret to pick the cherries. We chose her because she is +lighter than I by half a stone; and we thought the fewer stone on the +twigs, the better. Then it was going to be her pie. + +The cherries which could be reached from the ground were satisfactory in +the extreme. They rattled into the pail, just as other people's cherries +rattle. It would have been my instinct to leave these till the last. But +I was not picking the cherries. I found it impossible, however, to stay +away from the cherry-picking. Margaret is rather quick in some of her +mannerisms. And her mannerism of mounting our cherry tree was little +short of lightning. She was wearing white silk hose and white canvas +slippers. Personally I did not consider these correct climbing shoes, +but Margaret is accustomed, when far from home, to choose her own boots +for all occasions, and to pay for new ones when her choice proves +disastrous. So I watched her rise above me without remark. + +I freely admit that it always seems less dangerous to one whose feet can +feel the crotches on the tree, and on whose arm the tin pail is, than to +the anxious relative on the ground below. As Margaret's manoeuvres +transmitted unpleasant little cracks along the tree, I recalled bits of +sage advice that I had on a time given to my mother concerning her +attitude when Geoffrey was climbing trees. I had told Mother that +Geoffrey was just as safe in a tree as in his bed. But Margaret did not +give this reassuring appearance. Perhaps I like Margaret better than I +do Geoffrey. Certainly I was more afraid she would fall out of the +cherry tree. + +She finally passed out of my sight. After a prolonged interval of +silence, I suggested to Margaret that she come down. + +"My foot is caught," returned my sister, her tone of voice wholly +explanatory. "It won't come out." + +"The shoe tapers to a point," I called encouragingly. "Try to turn it +sideways and pull backwards at the same time." + +"Barbara," said my sister tonelessly, "I just said it wouldn't come +out." + +"Then you'll have to take your foot out, and leave the slipper up +there," I responded with finality. + +"What would Mother do?" called Margaret from her lady's bower. + +It was so obvious, even to me, that Mother would not have been up a tree +at this hour that I could only repeat my original project of abandoning +the slipper. I learned afterwards that it is not an entirely +uncomplicated process to buckle in the centre when swinging in a +tree-top with one foot stationary and a tin pail on one's arm, and untie +a slipper-strap without tipping the pail or falling out of the tree. +Margaret soon appeared within my line of vision, listing dangerously, +chastened, dignified, and stocking-footed. She reminded me +simultaneously, as she descended, of a mystic Russian premiere danseuse, +a barefooted native swinging down his cocoanut grove, and High Diddle +Dumpling my son John. + +I was rash enough later to inquire into the mechanics of retrieving the +slipper, but Margaret, as she finished her tart, replied so +appropriately in the words of the Scriptures as to be too sacrilegious +to repeat. + +As our nonchalant day wore on, I lighted the gas-oven for popovers. +Popovers are casuals. They are not supposed to be a _chef d'oeuvre_. +They are the high-grade moron of the hot-bread family. A guest expects +the popovers to be good, just as he expects the butter to be good. I +expected mine to be good. + +As they neared the crisis, the city gas was shut off. I acted instantly, +treating the phenomenon as a rare exception in housekeeping. I aroused a +dying fire in the coal range with great speed and an abundance of +kindling, and conveyed my gems across kitchen. It is a sweet-tempered +popover, indeed, which will bear shifting from a hot oven to a +moderately comfortable one. I began steadily to lose my unconcern. Once +on my knees before an oven door, I usually ask no quarter and receive no +advice. Advice is sometimes given me, but my advisers realize that it is +not being received. This time I called Margaret in consultation. + +"I think they are going to pop," she pronounced judicially, "but not +over." She was right. + +Does Life hold, I wonder, a more sorrowful moment than that time when a +true cook has to instruct her guest to scoop out the inside of her +popover for the chickens, and eat only the outside? Every one knows that +delicate tinkling sound that a good popover makes when tossed on a china +plate. These made somewhat the same sound as a Florida orange. We +learned quite cogently that evening that Hospitality may depend, not +upon greatness of heart, but upon the gas stove. + +This experience of ours, however, could not be regarded strictly as a +test case. Any one would admit that all of our adversity was unusual. It +is the rare exception when all the pipes in the house burst at once, +when there is no gas in the gas-stove, and when one loses a slipper in +making a cherry pie. + +It took another day to show us that running a house _normally_ consists +in dealing with a succession of unusual events. + +We did not court disaster, or attempt anything ambitious. We had not +even planned to invite any more company. But an old friend of Geoffrey's +appeared at our door in uniform with his new wife, to wait over a train. +Margaret promptly invited them to lunch. Our lunch, as already planned, +was simple. We told them that it would be simple. Margaret leans, during +hot weather, to such things as iced tea, lettuces, cheese wafers, and +simple frozen desserts. Fiction has it that the water-ices are the +simplest of anything. They _are_ simple to eat. We had planned to freeze +the water-ice together. But in view of the fact that we had company, +Margaret, who had first suggested our simple dessert, slipped quietly +out to freeze it alone. + +Ice may be cold stuff, but it is heating to chop. Three minutes may +freeze a pudding in some freezers, but not in ours. As much time wore +away, I gradually hitched my chair in a backward direction, to permit a +stealthy glance at Margaret on the back piazza. It is almost as wearing +to hold our freezer down as it is to turn the crank. Margaret was doing +both at once, stopping frequently to chase a slippery chunk of ice about +with her pick, chivying the bits of ice and salt finally into a cup. Her +cheeks had become flushed a vivid freight-car color. It was with great +relief that I finally saw her peer into the freezer, remove the dasher, +and proceed to seal up her confection and cover it with newspapers and +an astrakhan cape. + +The precise moment when a water-ice becomes simple is when it is +smoothly slipped into a long-stemmed sherbet glass. Our guests, we +think, enjoyed our simple meal. But after they had gone, the word which +exactly described our state of mind was not the word nonchalant. + +"Barbara!" said Margaret energetically, "for supper, let's open a box of +blueberries." + +We did. Blueberries really _are_ simple. We made our evening meal of +them, accompanied by a few left-over popover skins. + +Margaret and I still feel that we could deal somewhat hopefully with a +leaking pipe. We still think that our calamities were a little out of +the ordinary. But we do not wonder quite so much now that Mother does +not wholly appreciate her dinner when she has guests, that she does not +oftener make simple frozen desserts, or that she stays in such close +company with her wheels when they are on their way around. + + + + +THE WILL TO BOSS + + +There are people who have a right to boss;--parents, for instance, and +generals in the army. With these we are not concerned. But most of us, +not officially in authority, now and then have ideas of our own that we +are willing to pass on. Some of us have them more than others. + +The typical boss is usually a capable executive with a great unselfish +imagination and the gift of speech. He usually knows enough to curb +himself in public; it is only in the home that his tendencies run riot. +In a family where all the brothers and sisters belong to this type, you +can run riot only to a certain extent. If you go too far, you meet +somebody else also running riot, and collisions ensue. + +If you are an elder sister, for instance, with a tendency toward what +your younger brothers call "getting bossy," you find yourself constantly +having vivid mental pictures of the best way to do a given thing. With +these fancy-pictures in mind, it is hard for you to believe that your +companions have any ideas at all. As you look at another person from the +outside, you find it hard to believe that his head is working. If our +heads were only made like these ovens with glass in the door, so that +you could watch the half-baked thinking rise and fall--but no. Your +brother sitting carelessly on the veranda may have his mind on the time; +he may be planning just how he will presently rush to his room, bathe +and change, snatch his hat, run to the station, and connect with the +train on daylight-saving time. He may be thinking hard about all this, +but he does not look as if he were. You fidget while the minutes go by, +and then you go to the window and speak. If your spirit has been broken +by much browbeating for past attempts to give advice, you speak timidly. +If you are of stouter stuff, you speak roughly to your little boy. + +"Tom," you say (timidly or roughly as the case may be)--"I suppose you +know what time it is." + +"Yes," says Tom. + +That ought to end it. But if you are a true boss, you go on. You know +that you are being irritating. You know that Tom is of age. But you are +willing, like all great prophets, to risk unpopularity for the sake of +your Message. The spirit of the crier in the wilderness is upon you, and +you keep at it until one of two things happens. If Tom is in a good +temper, he goes upstairs to humor you, with a condescending tread and a +tired sigh. If he is fractious, he argues: Did you ever know him to miss +a train? Did you ever hear of his forgetting an appointment? How do you +suppose he ever manages to get to places when you are away from home? + +My brother Geoffrey, in his day, has been a great sufferer from this +kind of thing. As memory reviews his youth, there stands out only one +occasion when he really achieved anything like freedom from sisterly +counsel. This was when he picked the pears. The pears on six large +loaded trees were ready to harvest. Geoffrey said that he was willing to +pick, but not to pick to order. We would have to engage to let him pick +the pears in his own way. We promised, though we knew too well our +brother's way of picking pears. He holds quite a little reception from +the tree-tops, entertaining passers-by with delightful repartee, and +giving everybody a pear. As time goes on, he gets to throwing pears. +"Somebody will get hurt," said our mother anxiously. But a contract is a +contract, and we tried not to look out of the window. In this +unaccustomed air of freedom, Geoffrey's spirits rose and rose. High in +the branches, taking his time, he grew more and more abandoned. He had +just reached the very top of the tallest tree when he saw far up the +street the form of the ugliest and largest dog who ever visited our +town, a strange white creature named Joe--a dog hard to define, but +resembling one's childhood idea of the blood-hound type. Every one spoke +of this dog as "Joseph A. Graham": "Joe" seemed too simple a name to be +in scale with his size and ferocity. Down the street he came, loafing +along. Geoffrey, ordinarily kind to pets, selected a large mellow pear, +aimed it with steady eye, and hit Joseph A. Graham, accurately, +amidships. Joseph flew up into the air, landed on a slant, gathered his +large feet together for a plunge, and came dashing down the street with +murder in his great red eye. At that moment Geoffrey looked down and saw +with horror that an elderly gentleman was just coming up the street. It +was obvious that Joseph thought that the old gentleman threw the pear. +Geoffrey, emitting hoarse cries of warning, came swarming down the tree +to the rescue, swinging from branch to branch like an orang-outang. The +elderly gentleman, grasping the situation in the nick of time, stepped +neatly inside our screen door, and Joseph, thwarted of reprisal, snuffed +around the steps, muttered to himself for a few moments, and then went +shuffling on down the street. Geoffrey, still ardently apologizing to +the passer-by, went back to his tree-top to recover from this, the only +troubled moment in that influential day. + +By clever bargaining, you can occasionally buy off your natural advisers +in this way, and enjoy perfect independence. But there are projects that +really call for a good boss. When a number of people are at work +together, the trained worker should direct the group. Even in your +family, you are allowed to be an autocrat in things that are your +specialty. But you are supposed to be pleasant about it. This is not so +easy when you are in the full heat of action. When you have your mind on +a difficult project, your commands to your helpers are apt to sound +curt. You are likely to talk to them as if they were beneath you. The +unskilled helper in an affair demanding skill gives the impression of +belonging to an inferior class--something a little below the social +status of a coolie. He even feels inferior, and is therefore touchy. If +you order him too gruffly, he is likely to take offence and knock off +for the day. + +Barbara, for instance, once very nearly lost a valued slave when I was +giving her my awkward assistance about the camera. She had decided to +take a picture of Israel Putnam's Wolf-Den from a spot where no +camera-tripod had ever been pitched before. The Wolf-Den sits on a slant +above a cliff in the deep woods. At one side of it there is a capital +place from which to take its picture, a level spot on which a tripod +will stand securely. From this point most of the pictures hitherto taken +of the Den were snapped. But Barbara was resolved to get a full front +view to show the lettering on a bronze tablet that had recently been +placed on the Den. She wanted a time exposure, and she said that she was +going to need assistance. Her idea was to stand on a jutting rock just +at the edge of the cliff and hold the camera in the desired position +while the rest of the party adjusted the legs of the tripod beneath it. + +Every one who has ever set up a tripod knows that its loosely hinged +legs can be elongated or telescoped by a system of slides and screws. In +order to arrange our tripod with all its three pods on the uneven +ground, we found that we must shorten one leg to its extreme shortness, +and lengthen the second leg to its maximum length. This left the third +leg out in the air over the brink of the precipice. Our guest was to +manage the short leg, our mother was to manage the important and +strategic leg among the rocks, and I offered to build a combination of +bridge and flying buttress out from the slope of the cliff, for the +third. + +We started our project with that cordial fellow-feeling that rises from +a common faith in a visionary enterprise, and I am sure that we could +have kept that beautiful spirit to the end if it had not been for the +mosquitoes. There are no wolves at the Wolf-Den now, but on a muggy day +the mosquitoes are just as hungry. They rise all around in insubstantial +drifts, never seeming to alight, yet stinging in clusters. A true +Wolf-Den mosquito can land, bite, and make good his escape before you +have finished brushing him out of your eyes. You cannot brush insects +out of your eyes, slap the back of your neck, and take a picture at the +same time. Barbara, both hands busy holding the camera, was desperately +kicking the ankle of one foot with the toe of the other. I counted +fifteen mosquitoes sitting unmoved around the rims of her low shoes. + +"Don't take too much pains with that bridge," said she to me in +considerate company tones. + +"No," said I respectfully, "but I have to build it up high enough to +meet the leg." + +"Well, then, hurry," said she, still kindly. + +"Yes," said I evenly, "I am." + +When two sisters discourse like this before a guest, there creeps into +their voices a note of preternatural sweetness, a restraint and +simplicity of utterance that speak volumes to the trained ear. + +I was hurrying all I could, but for my unnatural bridge I had not the +materials I could have wished. I found a weathered wooden fence-rail, +balanced one end of it on the cliff and the other end in the crotch of a +big tree that leaned over the side hill; but this bridge had to be built +up with a pile of sand, leaves, small stones, and stubble balanced +carefully upon it. Meanwhile, my mother was busily drilling a hole in +the rock to make a firm emplacement at a distance for leg number two. + +Finally our three positions were approximately correct, and the more +delicate process of adjustment began. Barbara, from under her dark +cloth, gave muffled directions. We obeyed, shifting, screwing, +unscrewing, adjusting. Our guest was still cheery. Success hovered +before us in plain sight. So did the mosquitoes. Barbara's directions +began to sound tense. They sounded especially tense when she spoke to +me. I was balancing precariously part-way down the shale cliff, digging +in my heels and doing the best I could with the materials at hand. +Looking timidly up at my sister's black-draped, mosquito studded figure, +I had been first conciliatory, then surly, then sullen. Barbara had now +begun to focus. + +"Lower!" said Barbara between her teeth. + +Obediently we all three lowered. + +"No, no, not you!" said Barbara to me. "Yours was too low already." + +There are moments in this life when the presence of a guest is an +impediment to free speech. Barbara, as anybody can see, had the +advantage. She was the commanding officer. Any response from me would +have been a retort from the ranks. Since one of her other two helpers +was her mother and the other a guest, her words to them had to be +sugared. In a sugar-shortage, it is the lower classes who suffer. By +this time one could easily distinguish her directions to me by their +truculent tone. + +"Make the bridge a trifle higher," said she curtly. + +I obediently brought another grain of sand. + +"Higher!" + +I silently added five smooth stones. + +"Oh, build it up!" she begged. "You ought to see the slant." + +I pried a large boulder from the ledge and balanced it on the rail. + +"Your rail's breaking!" cried my mother, so suddenly that I lost my +footing. + +I seized the leg of the tripod in one hand, the branch of a tree with +the other, while the flying buttress went rumbling down the defile, and +I was left clinging to the bare rock, that refuge of the wild goat. + +We have now some very attractive pictures of the Den, taken from a spot +where no tripod was ever pitched before, and where I hope no tripod will +be pitched again. But as we developed the plates that night, I told +Barbara that I did not think that I was qualified to help her much about +the camera any more. + +"You were all right," said she kindly. "It was the mosquitoes." + +And I was mollified by this as perhaps I could have been by no logic in +the world. + +The right to boss is conceded to the expert. It is also sometimes +extended to members of the family who are for the time being in the +centre of the stage. At such times you are permitted to dictate--when +you are to have a guest, for instance, or when you are about to be +married. For a day or two before the wedding, your wish is law. You +really need to stay on hand until the last minute, however, to enforce +the letter of the law to the end. Otherwise, circumstances may get ahead +of you. + +Geoffrey, for example, directly after announcing his engagement to our +best friend Priscilla Sherwood, enjoyed a time of perfect power. He knew +that he needed only to say, "Priscilla likes so and so," and so and so +would follow. Barbara and I reminded him that we knew Priscilla better +than he did, but we could not say that we were engaged to her. Just +before the wedding, Geoffrey took us aside to explain seriously about +his plans, and to give us our orders for the day. + +"We don't want you to throw anything," said Geoffrey reasonably. "No +rice or confetti or shoes. And you needn't even see us to the train. +Priscilla doesn't care about any demonstration, and I think it would be +just as well to go off quietly. We'd just as soon the other people on +the train didn't know we were a bride and groom." + +Barbara and I, struck with the originality of this point of view, +promised to throw nothing. Priscilla, meanwhile, reasoned equally well +with her brothers. After the wedding, we all stood cordially on the +curbstone and let them drive off to the train. Then, deserted, the two +families confronted each other rather blankly. + +"It doesn't seem as if they had actually gone, does it?" said Barbara +uneasily. + +"They wouldn't mind if we waved to them when the train goes out, would +they?" began one of the Sherwoods tentatively. + +Barbara was inspired. "Come on down to our house," said she, "and then +they can see us from the train." + +One of the advantages of a home near the railway is the fact that you +can see your friends off on trips without leaving your dooryard. Each +man for himself, we went streaming down the last hill, fearing at any +minute to hear the train pull out. To our dismay, we saw that a long +freight-train was standing on the siding in such a position as to cut +off our view of the express. + +"When you are on the train," I panted as I ran, "you can see our +upstairs windows even when freight-cars are in the way." + +"We'll wave out of the front windows," said Barbara, and we all rushed +upstairs. + +"They'll never think to look up here, will they?" said one of the +brothers Sherwood anxiously as we peered out along the vista of track. +"The pear trees are in the way." + +"We might just step outside the window," said Barbara resourcefully. +"The piazza roof is perfectly safe. Then they couldn't help seeing us." + +Wrapping our best clothes about us, we crept out through the window one +by one, and went cautiously along the tin roof to a vantage-point beyond +the pear trees. When a company of grown people goes walking on a tin +roof, there are moments of shock when the tin bubbles snap and crackle, +making a sound nothing short of terrifying, like the reverberations of +season-cracks in the ice on a pond. We ranged ourselves in a row near +the eaves-pipe, just in time. The train went hooting by. They saw us. We +waved the wedding flowers, and they waved back. We saw them laughing. We +waved until the end of the train disappeared around the curve. And as we +assisted each other politely one by one through the window again, we had +a comfortable sensation of having wound up the affair with a finish and +completeness that had been lacking after the first farewell. + +Still feeling a little uplifted with excitement, we went up the street +to report events to our grandmother. + +"You mean to say that you went up on to the _roof_ to wave?" said our +grandmother. + +"Well," said Barbara thoughtfully, "it didn't seem quite like going up +on the roof at the time. It all happened so gradually. We just stepped +out." + +"And they saw you?" inquired Grandmother. + +"Oh, yes. Nobody could help it. Everybody saw us." Barbara glowed +reminiscently. + +"And you waved the wedding flowers?" + +"Yes," said Barbara happily. "Father Sherwood gave us each an armful." + +"Well," said our grandmother, resuming her sewing, "I shouldn't wonder +if the other passengers on that train thought that something had +happened to Geoffrey." + + * * * * * + +To govern one's own kinsmen successfully, one certainly does need to be +on the spot. One cannot afford to leave them for an instant. One should +be alert and watchful, and as diplomatic as circumstances will allow. +The ability to boss implies a ready understanding and the knack of +seeing the end from the beginning. It implies also a hardy constitution +and the gift of tongues. But after all, in the last analysis, it is +largely a matter of the Will. + + + + +MORE TO IT THAN YOU'D THINK + + +I am often reminded of a lady, who, during the war, volunteered to +oversee all the Canteen work for soldiers passing through our town. Her +favorite phrase, accompanied by a surprised accent, became the following +one: "There's more _to_ this job than you'd think from the outside +looking in." Then she would proceed with many astounding details: +soldiers who required two cups of coffee, or three lumps of sugar, milk +that in the course of time became dubious, and trains that in the course +of time became late. + +I sympathized with this lady and helped her wash the dishes. And I have +never questioned her statement. Moreover, I have yet to find the job to +which this statement does not apply. I suppose that, until you become a +postal clerk, you know very little about the intricacies into which a +capital "S" may go, or how the rats eat the stamps. A job is always +annotated for the employee. + +Certainly, teaching school introduces you to manifold works which could +not be anticipated by looking in. In fact, when my friendly janitor once +said that it must be very easy to teach the First Grade, I caught myself +falling back on the popular phrase with some emotion--"There's more to +it than you'd think." My most baffling problems were just a little too +complex to mention to my janitor. + +"What instantly comes to your mind," says my college friend who is +"taking" Psychology, "when I say the word 'ping-pong'?" + +I tell him. By right of which I retaliate, "What instantly comes to your +mind when I say the word 'sand-table'?" + +"Oh, little paper pine trees," responds the student (who is also +"taking" Education),--"and wigwams and canoes, and a real piece of glass +for a pond." + +All this comes to my mind, too,--with addenda. The addenda, however, +come to my mind first: Spilling Sand, Sweeping up Sand, Trailing your +fingers in Sand as you march past, and, if you are _very_ newly five +years old, Throwing Sand. This is not because I am soured on the +sand-table. I have merely learned that there is more _to_ one than you +would suspect from the outside of one, looking in. Sand-tables may mean +pine trees, and they may mean pandemonium. + +Throw several such freighted words into a mixed group, and the reactions +are passionately interesting. If you say, "Muscular movement," "Interest +and Attention," "Socialized Classes," or "Projects," you can sift out +the school-teachers by their smile. + +In fact, there is a very large group of noun substantives which mark, +for an Elementary teacher, at least, the seasons of the year. Usually +she has a top drawer full of these. Many a teacher longs for the +horse-chestnut-on-a-string season to appear, if only to finish up the +season of the maple-key;--that large pale-green maple-key, which, by +clever splitting of the central seed, may be made to stay on one's nose. +My young friend Junior O'Brien once read to me "The Three Billy Goats +Gruff," with a maple-key over each ear, one on his freckled nose, and +two on his apple cheeks. I gave over my reading-lesson period to +researches as to how his hard little cheeks could yield enough slack to +accommodate a key; and before I was ready to ask Junior to remove his +decorations, the force of gravity intervened. + +The maple-key, I suppose, suggests eye-glasses. Certainly a bit of wire, +twisted into spectacles, follows keys. These may be very ornate in the +upper grades, more nearly approaching the lorgnette, or even the +opera-glass. It is a fascinating thing to see what a wire hairpin +correctly treated will do to a young face. It lightens my day's load, +this vision of grave childish eyes through the twisted rims, and that +magnificent effort of will, contrary to nature, to obtain perfect +immobility of the nose. + +In company with the gross of wire spectacles in my drawer are numerous +"snapping-bugs." These may be bought for one cent each, in the +snapping-bug season, of the ice-cream man. They are double bugs of tin, +which, if pinched in the proper spot, will yield a sharp click +reminiscent of the old-fashioned stereopticon lecture. Snapping-bugs may +go far in "socializing" a First Grade, and in making friends with a +newcomer at recess, but when they snap in school they give me an uneasy +sense that my audience is in haste to have the picture changed. So I +have six snapping-bugs. + +I have five tumble-bugs. These are vivid green or purple gelatin +capsules about an inch long, each housing a lead ball. Place the bug on +an inclined plane, and it will promptly turn right side up, or the other +side up, as long as the plane continues to incline. Since tumble-bugs +are practically noiseless, their life is somewhat longer than that of +their snapping cousins. + +I have one sling-shot. It might be argued that First Graders are too +young for sling-shots. So they are. They all too often receive their own +charge full in the eye. They much prefer their comfortable acorn pipes. +These are pandemic in October, as are also balloons. + +I once perceived Dominick, in the height of the balloon season, with a +frankfurter balloon, a shape then new. The active part was at just that +moment inert--a dried and crumpled wisp of rubber. But its tube was +unmistakably going to be blown. Dominick will never know how much his +teacher wished to see his balloon, properly inflated, swaying and +glowing as only a green sausage balloon can glow. I was deterred by a +misgiving as to whether this type of balloon collapsed quietly after its +magnificent spectacle, or whether it was of that variety which emits a +peculiar penetrating whistle as it shrinks--an unmistakable sound, due +to be placed accurately in her list of sounds by my teacher-friend next +door, who does not approve of balloons in academic session. Dominick, +however, wished more than I did to see his lighter-than-air craft in all +its glory. I finally deposited it among the false noses and +horse-chestnuts in my drawer. + +I used to wonder why a teacher _wanted_ marbles and walnuts, and +pencil-sharpeners shaped like a rabbit. She doesn't. She simply does not +want to hear them dropping, dropping, ever dropping, like the pennies in +Sabbath School. There is something thrilling to _any_body about a real +agate. If it is about, you have to look at it. It is so perfectly round. +Anything perfectly round, or perfectly cylindrical, likes, as we learn +in Kindergarten, to roll. It likes, upon occasion, to "rest"; but it +does not like this nearly as well. It is not fair to a child to let him +spend his time playing with an agate in school. Neither is it fair to +him to destroy the beauty of an agate for him--the charm of its shape, +or the marvel of its construction. A teacher should strike a medium so +delicately and absolutely medium that the angels themselves pause lest +they jar the weights. + +But the most curious phenomenon which I have observed, one which could +not possibly be anticipated by an outsider looking in, is the effect of +my setting the clock. There are times when a perfectly innocent +shuffling of thirty-four feet in the First Grade assumes proportions far +more important than Murder in the First Degree. Then it is that I set +the clock. If it does not need setting, I set it forward first, and then +back again. The clock is high on the wall, reached by the janitor (all +too seldom) from a very high step-ladder. I set it from the floor. I +take the yardstick and advance on the clock. It is a nice operation to +push up the glass crystal with a pliant stick, haul down the +minute-hand, and finally to close the door. The door must first be +lifted into its proper position, and then hammered shut. Each bang of +the yardstick sounds as if it would be followed certainly by showers of +broken glass. I think that this uncertainty is what keeps my pupils' +hearts fluttering and their feet still. Deathly silence always +accompanies my setting of the clock. An imperceptible sound of relief, +like a group-sigh, follows the click of the door in its catch. I can +tiptoe back, on that sigh, to quiet industry. + +It is true that children, with the best intentions, sometimes bring +inappropriate busy-work to school. But teaching them has not dowered me +with any disdain for my students. They are beneath me only in years. In +fact, I raise my hat to some of them in spirit, as I teach them to raise +theirs to me in truth. Here and there I calmly recognize a superior. I +am constantly taking care that no youthful James Watt can say to me in +later years, "You put out my first tea-kettle which boiled in school." + +I suppose that Pauline will eventually be a gracious hostess, saying +just the right thing to her guests and to her husband--charming every +masculine acquaintance on sight. Even now, I find that she is engaged, +provisionally, to James Henry Davis. Perhaps some day Adamoskow, with +his long clever fingers and his dreamy eyes, and no head whatever for +"number," will be charging me five dollars a seat to hear him play. His +impresario can count the change for him. + +And I know that James Henry Davis, at seventeen, will have the power to +break hearts to the right of him, and hearts to the left of him, with +the same dimple, the same wonderful pompadour, and the same lifted +eyebrow that he now uses for the same purpose in Grade I. I know that he +will out-dance his dancing-master at his Junior Prom. I shall wonder, +when I see him in his white gloves, how I ever dared to take his acorn +pipe away. Therefore I take it away as innocuously as possible, and +touch his soft pompadour, in passing, with a reverent hand. + + + + +TRIO IMPETUOSO + + +The first steps of certain things are beautiful; the first flush of buds +along a maple branch, for instance, or the first smooth launching of an +Indian canoe. But the first steps of music are commonly not so. The +first note of a young robin is a squawk. The first piercing note of a +young violinist is not in tune with the music of any sphere. + +Musicians learn to expect a certain amount of wear and tear in first +attempts. Even the professional orchestra makes bad work of a new +symphony the first time through. And in an amateur orchestra, where the +players are of various grades of proficiency, the playing of a new piece +of music is a hazardous affair. + +In our own orchestra, when we read a new piece of music for the first +time, we usually decide to "try it once through without stopping." Come +what will, we will meet it together. The great thing is to keep going. +Sometimes we emerge from this enterprise with all bows flying and +everybody triumphantly prolonging the same last note. At other times we +come out at the finish one by one, each man for himself, like the +singers in an old-fashioned round-song rendering of "Three Blind Mice." + +To enjoy playing in an orchestra like ours, the musician should have a +great soul and a rugged nervous system. He should not be too proud to +play his best on music that is too easy for him, and he should not be +afraid to try music that is too hard. Music within the easy reach of +every member of an amateur orchestra is scarce. The first time through, +there is usually somebody who has to skirmish anxiously along, +experimenting softly to himself when he loses his place, and coming out +strong when he finds it again. From among the many desirable notes in a +rapid passage, he chooses as many as he can hit in the time allowed, +playing selected grace-notes here and there, and skipping the rest. We +cannot all have everything. + +Most amateurs call this process "vamping the part." This, and the clever +deed known as "cueing in" passages supposed to be played by instruments +that we lack, are our chief offences against the law. + +There are proud spirits in the world who refuse to have anything to do +with either of these sins. When they come to a passage that is not well +within their reach, they lay down the fiddle and the bow, and sit back +tolerantly while the rest go on without them. Their motto is the one +made famous by a certain publishing house: _Tout bien ou rien._ That is +a fine watchword for a publisher, but fatal in a scrub orchestra. There, +it is likely to mean that "tout" must go "bien," or you resign. + +Nobody has ever resigned from our orchestra. We are called a Trio, +because our minimum is three. But, in actual fact, we rarely play with +less than seven performers. Whenever we are about to play in public, we +reenforce ourselves with additional instruments, beginning with a +favorite extra violin. If we are to play in the evening, we can count on +a viola and a clarinet, played respectively by the senior and the junior +partner of a hardware firm: Mr. Bronson and Mr. Billings, of Bronson and +Billings. If we are to play on Sunday, we are sure of a double-bass. And +on state occasions, we are joined by an attorney-at-law who plays the +piccolo. People who invite us to play always request music by Our Trio, +and then inquire delicately how many of us there will be. + +A trio of this kind is sure to be in demand. In making our way to the +place where we are to play, we have learned to go in relays through the +streets. This is not because we are ashamed to be seen carrying the +badge of our talent through the town, but because if we all go together +there is a discussion about who shall carry what instruments. Barbara, +our 'cellist, is the storm-centre of these broils. The 'cello, like some +people, has the misfortune to look a great deal heavier than it really +is. No gentleman likes to let a lady carry one. + +"Really, it's as light as a feather," says Barbara, swinging it easily +alongside. + +"But," reasons the viola earnestly, "think how it looks." + +To avoid all friction, Barbara goes ahead with the gentleman who plays +the bass-viol. Together they present a striking aspect to the passer-by, +but they have peace and mutual understanding in their hearts. Nobody +could expect a gentleman, however gallant, to carry both a 'cello and a +double-bass. + +The rest of us follow along at a safe distance, and arrive at becoming +intervals at the place where we are to play. + +For convenience in talking among ourselves, we have divided our +performances into three classes: the platform performance, the +semi-screened, and the screened. Our semi-screened programmes are those +where we are partly hidden from view, in choir-lofts, conservatories, +verandas, and anterooms. The screened are those that take place behind +palms. Of all these sorts, we vastly prefer the screened. + +Each of us has a special reason for this preference. Mr. Bronson, the +viola, prefers it because, screened, he is allowed to beat time with his +foot. There is something very contented-looking about the tilt of his +long shoe, thrust out informally amidst the shrubbery--the toe rising +and falling in exact rhythm with the music, now legato, now +appassionato, our perfect metronome. Such happiness is contagious. + +Barbara likes to be screened because then she can dig a tiny hole in the +floor for the end-pin of the 'cello, and stick the pin into it once for +all, while she plays. The vogue of the waxed hardwood floor is a great +trial to 'cellists. It is upsetting to feel your great instrument +skidding out from under you suddenly, with a jerk that you can neither +foresee nor control. When we go to places where the device of boring a +hole in the floor may not be well received, Barbara takes along a neat +strip of stair-carpet, anchors it at one end with her chair and at the +other with her music-stand, and sits on it firmly, much as the ancient +Roman used to camp upon a square of tessellated pavement brought with +him from Rome. + +Mr. Billings, the clarinet, likes the screened performance because his +wife has told him that he has a mannerism of arching his eyebrows when +he plays. In playing a wind-instrument, the eyebrows are a great help. +He can arch them all he likes, behind the palms. + +The rest of us enjoy the sense of cosy safety that comes when we arrange +our racks, distribute the parts, and settle down with our backs to the +foliage for an evening of music, out of sight. We can play old +favorites, far too tattered to appear on a printed programme; new things +not sufficiently rehearsed; extracts from compositions that we cannot +play beyond a certain point; and, best of all, those beloved collections +of what Mr. Robert Haven Schauffler used to call "derangements." All +these things, barred by the platform artist, we play blissfully, behind +the potted plants. + +Since everybody outside our leafy covert is talking, we are free, not +only from criticism, but also from the obligation of acknowledging +applause. All the little niceties of platform procedure--bowings, exits, +dealing with encores--are out of the question. Since we play +continuously, there is no chance for encores. + +There has been one exception to this rule. One night at a Saint +Patrick's Day banquet, Our Trio was out in full force. Even the piccolo +was with us. Our corner was carefully walled in with heavy burlap +screens, because this was a business-men's supper, and no ladies were +supposed to be present. We had brought along a sheaf of Irish music in +honor of the day, and we played it unexpectedly after a series of other +things. As we finished one of the appealing Irish airs, the applause +broke out all over the hall in a genuine encore. We listened, +electrified, laying an ear to the cracks. Barbara, who thinks that we +are altogether too easily set up by the plaudits of the crowd, stood up, +'cello at an angle, and made a series of elaborate bows for our benefit +behind the screen. The viola sprang to his feet and joined her, and they +were bowing and scraping hand in hand like Farrar and Caruso, when the +front screen was thrown suddenly wide open by the toastmaster who had +been sent to request an encore, and no less than forty gentlemen looked +in. Since that time, we have not felt too sheltered, even with burlap +screens. + +The question of applause, so nearly negligible in the screened +performance, is a matter of the greatest moment on the platform. The +process of responding to it is complicated by numbers. A solo artist can +step in easily, bow, and step out again. But it takes too long for a +trio of eight or more to step in, bow, and step out. We have to wait +behind the scenes for a real encore. + +We are highly gratified at a chance to play our encores, of which we +carry a supply. The only hitch is the little matter of deciding just +what an encore is. The viola thinks that an encore consists of applause +going in waves--starting to die out and reviving again in gusts of +hearty clapping. Two such gusts, he says, should comprise an encore. But +our pianist thinks that we should wait until the clapping stops +entirely, and that, if it then bursts out afresh, it shall be esteemed +an encore. + +One evening the encore was by every standard unmistakable. Our mother +was at the piano that night, and, supposing that we were ready, led the +way in. The rest of us, absorbed in giving out the parts of the music, +did not see her go. We waited, wondering where she was. Tempests of +amused applause meanwhile surged up around our lonely accompanist +stranded in the hall. We heard the thundering, and scattered in frantic +search. One of us could have played the piano part, but the music for +that had disappeared as well as the musician. The double-bass chanced +upon the janitor's little boy in the corridor, and asked him if he knew +where our accompanist could be. + +"Why, yes! Can't you hear 'em clap?" said the boy in surprise. "She's +went in." + +I have heard that there are sensitive people who are jarred upon by +applause, people who hold the perfect-tribute theory: they think that +the audience, out of respect to the artist, ought to remain reverently +silent after each number. I cannot answer for the great artist, but I +know that our trio does not feel that way about it. We like applause. +Silence is a mysterious thing. From behind the stage how are you to tell +a reverent hush from a shocked one? The trained ear can instantly +classify applause; but silence, however reverent, does not carry well +behind the scenes. We like a little something after each number to cheer +us on. + +We do know, however, that in a small private audience there is a sense +of strain if the listeners feel obliged to make a demonstration after +each selection. Clapping seems affected in a group of three or four, and +the business of thinking up well-selected remarks is a serious matter. +Knowing this, we always relieve our drawing-room audiences of +embarrassment by making the remarks ourselves. The moment the last +lingering whisper has completely died away from the strings, we turn as +one man and begin to compliment the music. "We like that ending better +than any other part of the whole thing," we say appreciatively. This +lifts a load of anxiety from the minds of our hearers, and serves to +break the hush. + +The question of playing to guests in our own home is the subject on +which our family _ensemble_ most nearly came to mutiny. Our father had a +way, contrary to orders, of suggesting a little music when we had +visitors. The rest of us objected to this, especially if the guests were +people who did not play. Once, when an evening of hospitality to +strangers was in store, our mother was giving us all our final +instructions. She turned to our father last of all. + +"Endicott," she began impressively, "this evening you mustn't say the +word 'music' unless somebody else suggests it. If they want us to play, +they will ask us." + +Our father, a little grieved to think that any one should worry lest he +do so strange a thing, promised to comply. + +But that evening, finding the guests more and more congenial in the +midst of firelight conversation, he turned to them cordially and said, +"I know that this is just the time when you would enjoy a little music, +but I have been told that I must not say the word unless you suggest it +first." + +The guests, highly diverted, rose to the occasion and begged prettily. +They said that they had been starving for some music all along. When +visitors who do not really care for music have once been launched on the +process of asking for it, the kindest thing to do is to play promptly +something brief and sweet and trailing--some _Abendlied_ or +_Albumblatt_, for instance, and have it over. In the presence of guests, +such family crises must be tided over with neat persiflage. It was only +after the company had gone that the mutiny took place. + +But there is one kind of audience that we like the best of all. +Sometimes of an early summer evening, when our whole orchestra has +gathered to rehearse for a performance that we have in store, the +relatives and friends of the players ask to be allowed to come and +listen. We arrange the hammock and steamer-chairs in a screened corner +outside the house, and there our listeners--perhaps the sister of the +bass-viol, the business partner of the piccolo, and a neighbor or +two--settle themselves comfortably under the windows. Then we play, +interrupted only by an occasional shout from outside, when somebody +requests an encore, or asks what that last thing was. Our steamer-chair +audience has often begged us to announce the composer and the name of +each selection as we go along, and we usually appoint somebody to do +this, megaphoning the titles through the window. But before we have gone +very far, we forget our audience. They lie there neglected, scattered on +the lawn. The dew falls around them, the shadows gather over them, and +they give up the attempt to attract our notice. We are rehearsing now, +not performing, and our blood is up. + +Sometimes we have a strong-minded guest who refuses to be treated in +this way. He declines the steamer-chair, with steamer-rug and cushion, +preferring to sit against the wall in a cramped corner of the room where +we are playing. We assure him that the music sounds better from a +distance, but he begs to be allowed to stay. He says that he likes to +watch as well as listen. This does not disturb us; we are rather +flattered if the truth were known. In fact, we know a little how he +feels. There is a dramatic and pictorial value in the humblest +orchestra, no matter how densely you populate your music-room. Usually +the guest who enjoys this sight is a person who would like to play if he +knew how--one who can join in the excitement when things are going well. + +Like all amateurs, we do become excited. And when we are excited, we +tend to play faster and faster, and louder and louder, unless something +holds us up. "Pianissimo!" shouts the double-bass, fortissimo. Thus +exhorted, we settle down just as earnestly, but with more attention to +the waymarks and the phrasings of the score. + +Probably it is at these moments that we do our very best. The bass-viol +standing by the fireplace, his genial face unsmiling now, intent, takes +the rich low harmony with great sweeps of his practised bow. Barbara, +over against the music-cabinet, plays smoothly on, her dark old 'cello +planted firmly, the shadow of her hair across its great brown pegs. Mr. +Billings, with pointed eyebrows arching steeply, pipes and carols above +us like a lark. And through it all the vibrant foot of Mr. Bronson +faithfully beats time. + +"Why don't you get together and play like this often?" inquires the +sister of the bass-viol, when the audience at last, with arms full of +steamer-rugs and cushions, comes trailing in. + +The piccolo, passing sandwiches, looks up with hearty response. "Yes, +why can't we?" he asks. "After the reception, let's try to keep it up." + +The rest of us, fastening the covers around our instruments, give +enthusiastic consent. "Every other Monday, let's meet without fail," we +say. But in our hearts we know that we shall not. We shall all be +busy--all sorts of things will happen to prevent--and the weeks will +fly. Yet we know that sooner or later our trio will meet again--probably +for a desperate rehearsal some months hence, just in time for the next +event where we are asked to play. + + + + +THE RETURN OF A, B, C + + +That is, I used to hope that they were returning. My neighbor's small +son, Tony, aged six, needed them. He needed them to learn to read with. +This was before I had any first-hand evidence about modern school +methods. I saw school only through Tony. + +Tony was able to read, "over to school," such excerpts as the following: +"The gingerbreadboy went clickety-clack down the road." "Sail far, sail +far, o'er the fabulous main!" "Consider, goat, consider!" "You have made +a mistake, Mr. Alligator." Just why, I reflected, should "Mr. Alligator" +and "fabulous" be introduced to a pleasant child like Tony, who had not +as yet been allowed to meet "cat," "dog," "hen," "red," "boy," "bad," +and a great many other creatures really necessary to a little boy's +existence? + +His mother knew that Tony was not learning to read very fast. She argued +with me a little on principle. She said that James Whitcomb Riley wrote +"fabulous." I reminded her in a neighborly way that Mr. Milton wrote the +"Areopagitica," thought by some to be a good sort, but that, until Tony +knew his letters, the "Areopagitica" would be almost wasted on him. I +would have stepped in at this point myself and ponied him a bit, for +pure love, had it not been for the fact that I hated to have him get a +sensible A, B, or C mixed up with such corrupting associates as a +considering goat or a mistaken alligator. And he would certainly have +mixed them up. He would never have been able in this world to decide in +his little mind what relation "consider" had to A,B,C. And he would have +been quite excusable. + +I began to think that his mother was too optimistic. She was trying to +console herself by the fact that, if she should die, Tony could at least +order gingerbread off a menu card. But could he? The sad fact that my +neighbor overlooked was that he didn't know "gingerbread" when he saw +it, but just "gingerbread_boy_"! Perhaps even at that, Tony might not +have starved, for even gingerbread_boys_ are edible, if Tony really +could have recognized that. But he couldn't. Not outside the confines of +his "reading-book"--Heaven save the mark! A modern word-fiend tried to +explain to me here, that, after having learned "gingerbreadboy," a child +comes naturally by three words (and even four if they allowed "gin" in +the school curriculum)--namely, "ginger," "bread," and "boy." But Tony +didn't. I tried him. He looked upon "ginger" as an entire stranger, +interesting in form, perhaps, but still foreign. Something, I was +convinced, was wrong. And I attributed this state to the fact that Tony +didn't know A, B, and C. + +Just as I reached the high noon of this conviction, I was drawn by the +most curious of circumstances into the business of teaching little +children to read. I held the novel position of being besought to bring +all my heresies and all my notions, and join the influenza-thinned ranks +of the teaching profession. The Board of Education said that it was +desperate. It must have been. + +I suppose that no other power on earth could have converted me so +quickly to the decried method, as my being forced, out of loyalty to my +employers, to support it. I was plunged on the first day--not into +"clickety-clack," but "slippety-slip." It was my first object lesson to +hear the laughter of many little children, as the small gray cat +swallowed slippety-slip in rapid succession the white goose, the +cinnamon bear, the great, big pig, and others which have +"slippety-slipped" my mind just now. It was easy to teach them which +fantastic word said "slippety-slip." It was very hard to teach them +which plain-faced word said "and." I was happy to find many fine old +words ranging themselves in the same category as "slippety-slip." +"Goose" is intrinsically easier to learn than "duck"; "red" is a +bagatelle beside "blue." But the easiest word of all is "slippety-slip." + +I took notes of phenomena like these, for use later in dealing with +critics who theorized as I had theorized on the day previous. I was not +quite ready with any solution on this first day when a visiting mother +assured me that she, when a girl, was wont to read much better when her +book was open before her. Her son, on the contrary, read better, she +told me, and with more interpretation and fine feeling, without his +book. "People think," said my visitor, "that when a child has his book +open and says aloud the words printed on that page, that he is reading. +He may be," she added mildly, "and then again, of course, he mayn't." + +I determined that, when this logical lady should come again, her son +should be reading. So I taught him to read. I taught him via the method +I had disparaged; via "Mrs. Teapot," "Goosey-Poosey-Loosey," and the +goat that would not go home, without once mentioning the names of A, B, +or C. This boy is in the third grade now, skimming the "Literary Digest" +for material for his oral language. + +The second step in my conversion occurred when one of the overworked +teachers showed me hastily how to teach Phonics. She drew a flight of +stairs on the blackboard, and on each step she placed a letter of the +alphabet. I did not find "A" among them, but I discerned both B and C. +To my surprise, the little children knew these, but they called them (as +nearly as the printed page can convey the sound) _buh_ and _kuh_. They +called "R" _err_, and "H" they called _huh_. + +When I reached home, I looked up a few letters in the Dictionary, and +received new light. Of what use is it, after all, to know that "W" is +called "Double-you," unless you know first the sound for which it +stands? The Dictionary, in fact, explains that the proper sound of this +letter is really a "half u" instead of a "double u." Certainly "W" is a +more helpful tool to a child when he has been taught to pucker up his +lips like the howling wind when he sees this letter coming, than when he +has been taught to get set for a "d" sound which is not there. Why +confuse a child's mind at first with what a letter is arbitrarily called +by some one else? Surely it is more sensible to show him what noise to +make when he sees it. + +But I found that some of the children did not connect the delightful +game of the blackboard stairs with their reading at all. Tony was among +this number. Right here I was electrified to find out the real trouble +with Tony. I found that it had not occurred to him that the letter "g," +at the beginning of the word "good," for instance, could have any part +in distinguishing this word from the Little Red Hen. I found also that +many of the children were recognizing "good-day to you" wholly by the +quaint little dash in the middle of "good-day." They shouted heartily +"good-day to you" whenever I showed them any word containing a hyphen. + +To remedy this difficulty, I abstracted Phonics bodily from my afternoon +session, and inserted it directly before the reading period in the +morning. In fact, I allowed a few Phonics to spill over into Reading, +and commenced to read a little before the children were quite finished +with the staircase. I can say that the greatest triumphal moment of my +life was when an entire class saw, independently and suddenly and of +themselves, that "ice-cream" could not possibly be "good-day to you." +And the fact that the children now knew these apart by a phonetic tool +did not prevent them from saying "good-day to you" just as cordially and +just as fast as before. Moreover, they had not compelled the school +system to wait for them to spell out the words letter by letter. + +This is the only stage in a modern phrase-and-sentence method which +contains a pitfall. If this is solidly bridged, most children will learn +to read more understandingly than we used to. They will read twice as +well, and three times as fast. + +At the end of the school year, after Tony had read nineteen books, I did +throw in the alphabet itself as a classic. We even sang it to the good +old-fashioned tune. + +Tony will use A, B, and C, in the Second Grade to spell with, and in the +Fourth Grade to look up words in the Dictionary with; but he did not +need them, after all, in the First Grade, to learn to read with. + + + + +UNDERSTANDING THE HEALTHY + + +The healthy in all centuries have misunderstood the sick. In the days +when sickness was supposed to be the result of possession by devils, the +healthy gathered around the invalid, beating upon drums. When all +disease was supposed to be the chastening of the Lord, they gathered at +the bedside again, teaching repentance of sins. And in our own +generation, they come again around the sufferer telling him to take his +mind off himself. + +I myself, being healthy, have never been the victim of that form of +ministration. I have simply observed the effect of it on others. And +since there is no hope of converting the healthy from this habit, the +next best thing is to explain the obscure workings of the healthy mind. + +Of course, no two healthy people are quite alike, and general statements +about any great composite type are dangerous. But no matter how +divergent their styles, all up-to-date, unspoiled, healthy persons can +be trusted to make certain stock remarks to or about the sick. The +context may vary, but sooner or later the following phrases will crop +up: "pulling yourself together"; "bracing up"; "standing a little real +hardship"; "forgetting all about your aches and pains"; "people who +never have _time_ to be sick"; "people who are worse off than you are"; +and, "taking your mind off yourself." + +At any one of these cheery phrases, the spirited sick man feels his +gorge begin to rise. He knows that if his gorge rises, so will his +temperature. With a mighty effort he swallows his temper, and his +temperature goes up anyway at the exertion. All this time he knows that +his visitor meant well, and he despises himself for his irritation. He +has no way of defending himself, for, if he should describe how ill he +really is, would not that convict him of having his mind on himself, of +craving sympathy, of "enjoying poor health"? Over and over the words of +his visitor go ringing in his ears--words intended tactfully to +stimulate recuperation. "It's fine to see you looking so well. All you +need to do now is to get something to take up your mind. I know how hard +it will be, for I have been there myself, but circumstances were such +that _I_ just _had_ to brace up. It would be the best thing in the world +for you if you only had to rough it a little." + +Any one of these remarks is guaranteed to leave the person who is really +suffering in a very storm-beaten state of mind, unless by the luckiest +chance he understands two basic facts about the healthy: first, our +healthy imagination; second, our healthy ignorance. + +The healthy imagination, in the first place, cannot bear to move in +circles. Any novelist knows that a story must progress. If the action is +dramatic, the final downfall or the final victory must follow swiftly +upon the heels of conflict. The attention wanders if the story goes +monotonously along in the style of "Another grasshopper came and brought +another grain of corn. And then another grasshopper came and brought +another grain of corn." + +On the same principle, the general public gives intelligent +understanding to the great dangerous diseases where there is a grand +struggle of life and death, where the sufferer grows rapidly worse, +reaches the crisis, hangs for a moment between time and eternity, and +then either dies or gets well. Here is the stuff of contest, the essence +of Greek drama: pity and fear, unity of action, and dignity of conflict. +The imagination rises to it as to whirlwinds and the noise of +waterspouts. But when it comes to the good friend who neither dies nor +gets well, who begins to recover and succumbs again, travelling the +monotonous round of one ill after another, none of them fatal,--then the +healthy imagination stops following the circles. + +It is time by every calculation that our friend recovered. We hope that +he will soon be well and strong. He hopes so, too, we admit +broad-mindedly. But most of us fall into generalities at this point. We +are not impatient _with_ our friend; we are impatient for him. A delayed +convalescence, we have heard, is usually the result of mismanagement +somewhere; the wrong doctor, perhaps, a family inclined to spoil by +kindness, or mind over matter imperfectly understood. Suppose our sick +friend could get away from his anxious relatives, and be suddenly cast +upon a desert island; would he not have to brace up and rattle down his +own cocoanuts with a will? We have known such cases--paralytics who got +thrown overboard and nimbly swam ashore, rescuing women and children on +their way. Our friend is not an extreme case like that, but, if he +actually had to get to work, would he not forget all about his troubles, +and suddenly find himself cured? + +Once having put him into the class of needless suffering, we roll along +merrily to the moment when we decide that it is time for us to speak. +Let us speak tactfully, by all means. Let us auto-suggest as it were! +Let those of us who are amateurs do what we can in a quiet way. + +At this point, the healthy do three things. We diagnose, we prescribe, +and we tell you to take your mind off yourself. + +This is where the healthy ignorance comes in. When we are well, we think +of the mind as a convenient tool; in Huxley's words, "a cool, clear, +logic engine." We know that minor ailments of our own have vanished when +we have vigorously taken our mind off our symptoms and gone to the +movies. We are at our best, we know, when we have given our whole +attention to something absorbing, quite outside ourselves; business, +friendship, good works. We feel that our acquaintance will be the better +for this valuable thought. We do not know that every other healthy +person in town has also decided that it is time to pass on the same +idea. Neither do we realize that the ability to do as we suggest is the +sick person's idea of heaven. + +Thinking thus masterfully of the mind, we speak glibly of doing things +with it. We do not know how slippery and complex a thing the mind is +when assailed by suffering. "Take off your mind." Take off your hat. We +do not know what long hours every invalid spends driving his mind along +on every pleasant topic under the sun, only to feel it skidding, +skidding, from side to side, just as you feel yourself steering for the +nearest tree when you begin to drive a car. And after all this effort, +what has he been doing but putting his mind on his mind? Less exhausting +to put it on the pain and be done with it. When we urge our friend not +to steer for the tree, we feel that we are presenting him with a new +idea. + +Healthy ignorance, in the second place, assumes that the mind of a sick +person is more than normally susceptible to suggestion. We have heard +that, if you say to a patient, "How thin you are," he will instantly +feel thinner and thinner, will droop and wilt and brood morbidly upon +his state. Very well, then. We go to visit our friend resolved to make +no such unfortunate remark. We conceal our shock at the changed +appearance of our friend, but we cannot help thinking about it. Every +healthy person is a trifle taken aback when he sees anybody else laid +low. The neat white corners of the counterpane lend an awe-inspiring +geometrical effect; if the patient is a man, he looks subtly changed +without his high collar; if the patient is a lady, she is transformed +with her hair in braids. We know that we must not cry, "How changed you +are, Grandmother," lest we send the patient into a relapse. It is a poor +rule that will not work both ways. If a comment on frail appearance +would thus depress our friend, surely the contrary assurance ought to +chirk him up in proportion. We therefore say blithely, "Well, you +certainly do look fine!" Then later we perhaps repeat it, to make sure +that auto-suggestion has a chance to set in. + +Now, personally, if somebody told me that I looked well, I feel that I +could manage to bear up. But in the sick-room, the remark seldom makes a +hit. Nine chances out of ten the patient does not understand the +healthy. He feels that we suspect him of rusticating in bed under false +pretences. He does not want to be ill, nor to look ill; but since he +_is_ ill, he would be sorry to have us think that he might as well be up +and about. He does not know that we adopt the cheery note to avoid the +fatal opposite, and to encourage him. He does not know how helpless we +are, nor how sure of the susceptibility of the stricken mind. + +All these traits of the healthy imagination and the healthy ignorance +are magnified tenfold if the invalid's disorder is nervous. To the +untutored layman, a nervous disorder means an imaginary disorder. What +nervous wreck has not prayed to exchange his baffling torments for +something showy and spectacular, like broken bones or Spotted Fever? The +healthiest imagination can grasp a broken leg. The healthiest ignorance +can see that it should lie for a while in splints, and that we cannot +help our friend by urging him, however tactfully, to forget all about +his fracture and join us on a hike. But disordered nerves are different. +Everybody admits that. We feel instantly competent to prescribe. We have +read up on psychotherapy, in the magazines. + +Having diagnosed the case, having prescribed remedies, we feel a trace +of impatience if our friend seems not quite cured. + +In addition to our eager way of giving advice, we who are healthy have +also a way of confusing cause and effect. When our patient finally does +succeed in building up his vitality to the point where he can resume his +work, when we see him going busily about the world again taking his +share of hard knocks without flinching, then we say, "There! Didn't we +say he'd be better the minute he had something to do?" We know nothing +about the times when he hoped that he had recovered, attempted to take +up work again, and succumbed. We see only the triumphant emerging of his +renewed vitality. To us the cause is obvious, just what we had been +prescribing all along. When he was idle, he was ill. Now that he is +busy, he is well. Could anything be more logical? Therefore, when we +find him working hard at his old profession, we smile indulgently upon +him and we say, "That's right! It will do you good! _Now_ you have +something to take your mind off your--" + +But I will not repeat it. Never in all my life shall I say that +beautiful and grammatical phrase again. There is probably a good deal in +it--how much, I, for one, have not the least idea. Probably there are +invalids in the world who would be completely cured if they could be +worried into hard work at all costs, "roughing it" with a vengeance. We +stray perilously near the fields contested by experts when we come to +that. The point is that the subject will always be a field for experts, +and that never in the long history of suffering was very much +accomplished by the well-meant exhortations of friends. As far back as +Old Testament days, friends came to see a patient man, and reasoned at +length with him. And he cried unto the Lord. + +Nearly every invalid loves his friends. He cannot bear to have them +misunderstand him. And yet, if he only understands _them_--if he +understands the healthy as a class, with our healthy imaginations, our +healthy ignorance, our superstitions, and all our simple ways, the most +desolate Job in a friend-strewn world can afford to brandish his +potsherd and take cheer. He will know the explanation of our kindly +words, and their proper discount at the bank. And perhaps he may be able +finally, with a prodigious effort of his will, to take them off his +mind. + + + + +CARVING AT TABLE + + +Carving at table is one of the most virile things that a man can do, and +yet it usually has to be done according to feminine standards. It is a +primitive art overlaid with a complex technique, a pioneer act in a +dainty environment. For so masterful a deed with an edged tool, a man +should be allowed the space and freedom of the Maine woods. Environed by +the modern tablecloth, he must be not only masterful but cautious; not +so much fearless as adroit. + +The process tests not only the man himself, but also his relations with +his wife. When a married couple feel equally responsible for an act at +which only one of them can officiate, they are tempted to exchange +remarks. The most tactful wife yields now and then to the impulse to do +a little coaching from the side-lines, and many husbands have been known +to reply with a few well-chosen words about the knife. They sometimes +carry on quite a little responsive service. This happens occasionally +even when the husband is an artist at his work. The ideals of two +artists will occasionally conflict. And even the model wife, who ignores +the carving and engages the guests in conversation until the worst is +over, will at times find herself clutching the tablecloth or holding her +breath at the critical points--when the drum-stick is being detached +from the second joint, for instance, or when the knife hovers over the +guest's portion of the steak. These two crises are the great moments for +the man who carves. + +In fact, you have not taken the complete measure of a man until you have +seen him carve both steak and fowl. These two make totally different +demands upon the worker. The chicken calls for a sense of structure, a +versatile skill in manoeuvring for position, and the delicate wrist of +the violinist. But your true porterhouse calls for shrewd judgment and +clear-cut decisions, with no halfway measures or reconsiderations at +all. With the chicken, you can modify, slice, combine, arrange to best +advantage on the plate. With the steak, you work in the flat and in one +color; every stroke must count. There are men who would rather parcel +out the Balkans than map a steak. + +Great artists in carving are of several classes: those who stand up to +their work and those who remain seated; those who talk and those who do +not. I recall one noble old aristocrat, with the eye of a connoisseur +and the suavity of an Italian grandee, who stood above the great turkey +that he had to carve and discoursed with us as follows, pronouncing +every word with the dramatic vigor that I try to indicate by the +spelling, and illustrating each remark with one deft motion of his +knife; this was his monologue: "Now, we cut off his Legg.... Now, we +take his Winng!... And now,--we _Slice_ him." + +To my mind, this conversation is about the only sort in which the +successful carver can afford to indulge. The nervous amateur thinks it +necessary to keep up a run of wise comment on the topics of the day to +show that he is at ease; or perhaps he does it as the magician talks +when he puts the rabbits into his hat, to distract the spectators' +attention from his minor tactics. But he might as well learn that he +cannot distract us. The matter is too close to our hearts. It is natural +to watch the carving intently, not necessarily with an eye to our own +interests, but because for the moment the platter is the dramatic centre +of the group. Action, especially in an affair demanding skill, +irresistibly holds the eye. The well-bred guest chats along of one thing +and another, but his eye strays absently toward the roast. + +This is very hard upon the newly married husband. Spectators add +immensely to his difficulties. Some years ago, one such bridegroom, now +an experienced host and patriarch, was about to carve a chicken for his +bride and her one guest. I was the guest, and at that time I held +theories about the married state. While we were setting the table, I had +mentioned a few of these, among them my belief that all little boys +should be taught the rudiments of carving, so that when married they +would know how to preside correctly at their own tables. My friend the +bride agreed with me, and supported my views by anecdotes from real +life. The anecdotes were about boys who had not been so trained. +Meanwhile the bridegroom listened intently from his post on the kitchen +table. Young women are likely to forget that young men have feelings, +especially if they have been trained by brothers who displayed none. We +therefore went on at great length. Carving, we said, was not an +instinct, but a craft. + +As we sat at soup, the young husband became more and more uneasy, and +when the chicken made its appearance he leaned back with beads of +perspiration on his brow. "After all this," said he, "I hope nobody +expects me to carve that chicken. I'll just pass it around, and you +girls chip off what you like." + +The central difficulty in carving, however, is found not so much in the +actual chipping as in the tactful distribution of choice parts. This +matter is complicated by the fact that unselfish people will lie about +their preferences, polite people will refuse to disclose them, and +critical people expect you to remember them. Even the expert carver, +therefore, looks with favor on those convenient meats that come +naturally in individual units--croquettes, cutlets, chops, sausages; +here the only difficulty is the choice between brown and not so brown, +large and small. There is only the mathematical matter of making the +food go around, and the man with the vaguest sense of proportion can +count chops and divide by the number of guests. + +But when the company is large, and the platter of steak just adequate, +there really is cause for anxiety. Some carvers, under such +circumstances, begin cautiously, serving small helpings at first until +they are sure they are safe, and then becoming gradually more lavish. +Others begin recklessly, and have to retrench. A group of college +students once made a study of this matter with data and statistics that +would have adorned a doctor's degree. The object was to locate the seat +at any table of fourteen where one could count on the most even diet, +the golden mean between feast and famine, no matter which member of the +faculty chanced to carve. There were many variables to be considered: +some members of the faculty habitually carved with giant portions at +first, and then dwindled suddenly; others varied from day to day, +profiting at one meal by what they learned at the last. A few were +expert dividers by fourteen. The conclusion was reached after weeks of +minute toil. Like all great investigators, these students were prepared +to warrant their findings for all time. The best seat at a table of +fourteen--the one where you can count on the least fluctuation and the +largest security--in short, Whitman's Divine Average--is the fifth seat +from the professor, left. Things in that position run, barring +accidents, quite well. If caution was the slogan at the outset, the +plentiful supply on the platter has by that time begun to tell upon the +mind of the carver, and things are looking up. If the first helpings +were extravagant, there has still not been quite time to feel the real +pinch of want. Fifth seat from the professor, left. + +Of course, fourteen is too large a number to divide by. When it comes to +long division, brain-fag is bound to set in. Since those days, I am +told, food in that college is sent in ready apportioned in advance. + +We should miss something in our homes, however, if the art of carving +should decline. There is a certain symbolic grace in the fatherly act of +hewing away at a large roast, even if a man does not do it so very well. +It is true that a great many pleasant gentlemen do not feel quite at +home when dealing with a meat; they do not feel quite at their best. +They carve tentatively, parcelling it out at random. Until they come to +their own serving, they are vague. At that point, however, the most +helpless amateur takes on cheer. Watch him as he settles himself more +comfortably, draws up the platter at a better angle, and selects the +fragments of his choice. It is here that he does his best carving, not +consciously, not at all selfishly, but because he now feels sure. He has +something to go by. He knows what he wants. + +After all, the task of carving at table is not an infallible test of +man. Some of the most uncertain carvers in the world are great and good +men, standing high in their professions and revered by a family who must +nevertheless shiver for the fate of the table-linen when the sirloin +steak comes on. But the fact remains that the man who can carve +equitably, neatly, and with discrimination has nearly always a balanced +brain and a reliable self-command. In an army test he would stand high. +He is your genuine "officer material." And he is very scarce. + + + + +THE FEELING OF IRRITATION + + +The feeling of irritation in its earliest form once overtook a little +girl whose mother had enforced a wholesome bit of discipline. In a great +state of wrath the little girl went to her room, got out a large sheet +of paper, and ruled it heavily down the middle. Then she headed one +column "People I Like," and crowded that half of the sheet with the +names of all her acquaintances. The other half of the page she headed +"People I Don't Like," and in that column listed one word only--"Mama." +This done, she locked the grim document in her safe-deposit box, and hid +the key. + +That glowering deed was the very ritual of irritation. The feeling of +irritation is not merely one of heat; it is a tall wave of violent +dislike that goes mounting up our blood. When we have it, it feels +permanent. Our friend is not what we thought he was--our family is not +what it should be--our job is a failure--we have placed our affections +in the wrong quarter. When young politicians have this feeling, they +bolt the ticket; when young employees have it, they resign. The first +time when young married people have it, they think that love is dead. If +they have too much wealth and leisure, they fly apart and eventually get +a decree. But in households where the budget does not cover alimony, +they commonly stay together and see for themselves how the wave of wrath +goes down. The material inconveniences of resignations, abscondings, +law-suits, and the like have been a great safeguard in many a career. +Nothing in Barrie's plays is more subtle than the perfect moment when +the young couple decide to postpone separation until the laundry comes +home. + +It is not necessary to be a "temperamental" person or a fire-eater of +any sort in order to know how it feels to be irritated--and irritating. +The gentlest folk are capable of both sensations. Any one who has seen a +lovely lady deliberately stir up strife in the bosom of a genial +story-teller, by correcting his facts for him and exposing his fictions, +will remember the tones of restrained choler with which the merry tale +progressed. Who has not remarked to a kind relative, "Well, if you know +so much about it, why don't you tell it yourself?" + +There is no ratio or proportion at all between the cause of irritation +and the ensuing state of mind. In our moments of ferment we lose the +faculty of discrimination. We hardly ever refer our exasperation to the +trivial detail that brought it on. We feel that the detail is simply an +indication of the great flaws in the whole situation. We have a crow to +pluck, not only with our friend, but--to use the words of +Quiller-Couch--with everything that appertains to that potentate. + +For example, suppose that we are at loggerheads with a fellow-member of +a public-welfare committee. He opposes a measure that we endorse. He +will not see reason. We therefore refer him to his class: he is a +typical politician, a single-track mind, a combination of Mugwump and +Boss Tweed. We ourselves, meanwhile, are a blend of Martin Luther, John +Huss, and the prophet Isaiah, with tongs from the altar. + +Or perhaps we are irritated with a colleague on a teaching-staff after +the events of a varied day. Irrelevant matters have happened all the +morning in amazing succession: an itinerant janitor filling inkwells; an +inkwell turning turtle--blotters rushed to flood-sufferers; an +electrician with tall step-ladder and scaling-irons to repair the +electric clock; a fire-drill in examination period; one too many +revolutions of the pencil-sharpener; one too many patriotic "drives" +involving the care of public moneys kept in a candy-box. And now our +zealous academic friend calls an unexpected committee meeting to +tabulate the results of intelligence-tests. + +We are in no mood for intelligence-tests. We object. He persists. We +take umbrage. He still calls the meeting. Then, up rears the wave of +dislike and irritation, not at the details that have brought us to our +crusty state--not dislike of ink and electricity and patriotism and +intelligence--but dislike of our friend and of the Art of Teaching that +he represents. The trouble with our friend, we decide, is his academic +environment. He is over-educated--attenuated; a Brahmin. Nobody in touch +with Real Life could be so thoroughly a mule and an opinionist. Better +get out of this ultra-civilized atmosphere before our own beautiful +catholicity of thought is cramped, crippled, like his. At these moments +we do not stop to remember that people are opinionated also on the +island of Yap. + +Most frequently of all, we apply our dudgeon to the kind of community in +which we live. We are nettled at a bit of criticism that has reached our +ears. Instantly we say cutting things about the narrow ways of a small +community, with page-references to "Main Street" and the Five Towns. We +forget that our friends in great cities might be quite as chatty. Margot +Asquith lives and thrives in crowds. + +We refer our irritation, also, to types. Any skirmish in a women's +organization is referred to women and their catty ways. Any Church or +Red Cross breeze is an example of the captious temper of the godly. All +friction between soldiers of different nations is a sign of Race +Antagonism; the French are not what we had inferred from Lafayette. + +In short, the whole history and literature of dissension shows that +people have always tried to make their irritations prove something about +certain types, or situations, or nations, or communities. Whereas the +one thing that has been eternally proved is the fact that human beings +are irritable. + +If we accept that fact as a normal thing, we find ourselves ready for +one more great truth. Violent irritation produced on small means is a +deeply human thing, a delicately unbalanced thing, something to reckon +with, and something from which we eventually recover on certain ancient +and well-recognized lines. When our feeling is at its height, we are +ready to throw away anything, smash anything, burn all bridges. Nothing +is too valuable to cast into the tall flame of our everlasting bonfire. +This sounds exaggerated. Emotion remembered in tranquillity is a pallid +thing, indeed. But it is hot enough at the time. The whole range of +sensation and emotion may be travelled in an hour, at a pace +incredible--a sort of round-trip survey of the soul. + +The father of a large family sat in church at one end of a long pew. His +wife sat at the other end of the pew, with a row of sons, daughters, and +guests ranged in the space between. Near the close of the sermon one +morning, the father glanced down the line, gazed for a horrified moment +at his eldest daughter, Kate, got out his pencil, wrote a few words on a +scrap of paper, put the paper into his hat, and passed the hat down the +line. As the hat went from hand to hand, each member of the family +peered in, read the message, glanced at Kate, and began to shake as +inconspicuously as is ever possible in an open pew. Kate, absorbed in +the sermon, was startled by a nudge from her brother, who offered her +the hat, with note enclosed. She looked in and read, "Tell Kate that her +mouth is partly open." + +Kate remembered that it must have been. The whole pew was quivering with +seven concentrated efforts at self-control. + +Now, one would think that a moment like this would be jolly even for the +cause of laughter in others. But it was not. Kate knew that they had +been laughing before the note reached her, and she was hurt. If they +loved her as she loved them, they would not want to laugh. She set her +jaw like iron, and looked straight ahead. This started them all off +again. With the instinct of a well-trained elder sister, she knew that +if she wanted any peace she ought to turn and smile and nod cordially +all down the row, as at a reception. But it was too late for that. She +had taken the proud line, and she would follow it. + +As her expression grew more austere, the boys grew more convulsed. Aloof +now, cut off from her kin entirely, she sat seething. Floods of scarlet +anger drowned the sermon's end. The closing hymn was given out, but she +declined the offered half of her brother's hymnal. "Tell Kate she can +open it now," telegraphed one of the boys as the congregation began to +sing. Here was Kate's chance to unbend and join the group and nod and +smile again, but she was too far gone. She received the message with +lifted eyebrows, and stood with cold pure profile averted until after +the benediction. Then she turned away from her reeling family, and +walked off in a white heat. Her anger was not at her father whose note +caused the stir. She had no resentment toward him at all. If one's mouth +is open, one would wish to be advised of the fact. Her feeling was the +mighty wrath of the person who has been laughed at before being told the +joke. Unwilling to face her family, she went up to take dinner at her +grandmother's house, that refuge for all broken hearts. + +After dinner, Kate looked out of the window and saw her family coming up +the drive. They filed into the house and gathered in a group. "I think," +said one of the boys, "that in the cause of friendship we owe Kate an +apology." + +The grand manner of formal apology from one's relatives is the most +disarming thing in the world. Friendly conversation flowed back into the +normal at once. But it was years before it was quite safe for Kate to +rest her chin on her hand in church. + +Very often our most genuine irritations appear unreasonable to our +friends. For instance, why should people object to being called by each +other's names? Two brilliant young lawyers once developed animosity +against each other because their names Stacey and Stanton were +constantly interchanged. Children suffer from this sort of thing +continually; grown people tend to confuse brothers and to call them by +one another's names promiscuously. We may love our brother tenderly, and +yet not like to be confounded with him. Even parents sometimes make +slips. The smallest boy in a lively family had a mother who used to call +the roll of all her children's names, absent-mindedly, before she hit +upon the right one. Consequently, the smallest boy learned to respond to +the names George, Alice, Christine, and Amos. But the thing had happened +to him once too often. One morning he came down to breakfast with a +large square of cardboard pinned to his bosom; and on the placard in +large letters was printed the word "Henry." Rather go through life with +a tag around his neck than be called Alice any more. + +All these capricious facts about irritability rather explode the old +adage that it takes two to make a quarrel. If we are really on the +rampage, the other person may be a perfect pacifist and still call down +our ire. We can make the hot-foot excursion to the heights of madness, +for instance, when a friend with whom we are arguing whistles softly +away to himself while we talk. Even worse is the person who sings a gay +little aria after we are through. In the presence of such people, we +feel like the college girl who became annoyed with her room-mate, and, +reflecting prudently upon the inconveniences of open war, rushed out of +the room and down the stairs to relieve her feelings by slamming the +front door. She tore open the great door with violent hands, braced it +wide, and flung it together with all her might. But there was no crash. +It was the kind of door that shuts with an air-valve, and it closed +gradually, tranquilly, like velvet; a perfect lady of a door. People who +sing and hum and whistle softly to themselves while we rage, are like +that door. + +Knowing that human beings are occasionally irritable, that they can +recover from their irritation, and that we can also recover from ours, +why is it that we ever hold resentment long? Some people, like +soap-stones, hold their heat longer than others; but the mildest of us, +even after we have quite cooled off, sometimes find ourselves warming up +intermittently at the mere memory of the fray. We are like the old lady +who said that she could forgive and forget, but she couldn't help +thinking about it. We love our friend as much as ever, but one or two of +the things he said to us do stay in mind. The dumb animals have an +immense advantage over us in this regard. They may be able to +communicate, but their language has presumably fewer descriptive +adjectives than ours. Words spoken in the height of irritation are +easily memorized. They have an epigrammatic swing, and a racy +Anglo-Saxon flavor all their own. Unless we are ready to discount them +entirely, they come into our minds in our pleasantest moods, checking +our impulses of affection, and stiffening our cordial ways. + +On this account, the very proud and the very young sometimes let a +passing rancor estrange a friend. When we are young, and fresh from much +novel-reading, we are likely to think of love as a frail and perishable +treasure--something like a rare vase, delicate, and perfect as it +stands. One crash destroys it forever. But love that involves the years +is not a frail and finished crystal. It is a growing thing. It is not +even a simple growing thing, like a tree. A really durable friendship is +a varied homelike country full of growing things. We cannot destroy it +and throw it away. We can even have a crackling bonfire there without +burning up the world. Fire is dangerous, but not final. + +Of course, it is in our power to let a single conflagration spoil all +our love, if we burn the field all over and sow it with salt, and refuse +to go there ever again. But after the fires have gone down on the waste +tract, the stars wheel over and the quiet moon comes out--and forever +afterwards we have to skirt hastily around that territory in our +thought. It is still there, the place that once was home. + +Perhaps it is trifling and perverse to be harking back to nature and to +childhood for parables. But sometimes there is reassurance in the +simplest things. The real war-god in our own family was Geoffrey, and +Barbara was his prophet. Many a doughty battle they waged when they both +happened to be in the mood. Whenever Barbara wanted a little peace, she +used to take her dolls to the attic, saying to our mother as she went, +"K. G." This meant, "Keep Geoffrey." But one time Barbara was very ill. +Geoffrey was afraid that she was going to die, and showered her with +attentions assiduously. He even gathered flowers for her every day. The +trained nurse was much impressed. One afternoon, when the crisis was +passed, the nurse told Geoffrey that she thought that he was very sweet, +indeed, to his little sick sister. Geoffrey was squatting on the arm of +the sofa, watching Barbara with speculative eye. He considered this new +light on his character for a moment, and then remarked, "Well, you just +wait until she gets her strength." + +We live in cantankerous days. Anybody who has enough energy to do +anything particular in the world has more or less difficulty in getting +on with people. Unless he chooses to take his dolls to the attic, he is +in for occasional criticisms, laughter, interruptions, and the +experience of being called by names that are not his own. The world +sends flowers to the dying, but not to people when they get their +strength. It is the very rare person, indeed, who goes through life with +nothing to ruffle him at all. + +In moments of irritation at all this, we unconsciously divide the world +into two columns: people who agree with us and people who do not; +"People I Like," and "People I Don't Like." Instinctively we make the +lists, and file them away. If we could lay hands on the ghostly files of +twenty years and scan them through, we should find that the black-lists +were not a catalogue of permanent and bitter hatreds, but a sort of +Friendship Calendar. Many of our collisions, after all, were with the +people to whom we came most near. + +Almost every one wants to be easy to get along with. Some of us find it +hard. In those discouraging moments when we have proved obnoxious to our +friends, we are inclined to feel that a policy of isolation would be the +most attractive thing in the world. But there are practical drawbacks +even to isolation. + +A blizzard had once drifted all the streets of our town. Our mother, +with the true pioneering spirit, decided that she was going out. Our +father was urging her to wait until the streets were cleared. + +"Now, Endicott," said our mother reasonably, "the snow-plough has been +down, and there's a path." + +"But," persisted Father, "the wind has drifted it all in again." He +paused while she put on her hat, and then he added earnestly, "You don't +know how windy and drifted it really is. I just saw Mrs. Muldoon coming +down the street, and she was going along single file, and making hard +work of it too." + +The family was immensely taken with the picture of Mrs. Muldoon's ample +figure going downtown in single-file formation; but, in spite of the +jeers of his audience, our father still insisted that Mrs. Muldoon _was_ +going single file, and that she _was_ making hard work of it at that. + +Now and then there is an extreme individualist who yearns to go through +life absolutely unmolested, single file. He is impatient of collisions, +and collisions certainly do occur through one's proximity to one's kind. +But even the most arrant individualist can hardly go single file all by +himself--not without making hard work of it, at least. And even if such +a thing were possible it would not be a natural or kindly way of life. +Our hardy race has always valued the strength that comes from contacts +of every sort and kind. We therefore keep up the hearty old custom of +going through life in groups of families and associates and +friends--even though, inadvertently, we sometimes do collide. + + +THE END + + + + + The Riverside Press + CAMBRIDGE, MASSACHUSETTS + U. S. A. + + + + + [ Transcriber's Note: + + The following is a list of corrections made to the original. + The first line is the original line, the second the corrected one. + + precipitatly. The marshal, seeing this prompt obedience to his request, + precipitately. The marshal, seeing this prompt obedience to his request, + + ] + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Life's Minor Collisions, by +Frances Warner and Gertrude Warner + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIFE'S MINOR COLLISIONS *** + +***** This file should be named 37899.txt or 37899.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/7/8/9/37899/ + +Produced by Jana Srna and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. |