Ade's Fables Part 8

The first time she became aware of the slight discrepancy in Ears, she suffered only a slight Annoyance. It handed her a tiny Pang to find a Flaw in a Piece of Work that she had regarded as Perfect.

After she had seen nothing else but those Ears for many, many Days, it became evident to her that if Kenneth truly loved her, he would go and have them fixed.

Likewise, every time her Heart's Delight lifted the Cup to his Ruby Lips, she would grip the Table Cloth with both Hands, and whisper to herself, "Now we get the Funny Noise."

Kenneth, in the mean while, had found out that her Hair did not always look the same, but one who is striving to get a Meal Ticket for Life cannot be over-fastidious.

He was Game and stood ready to obey all Orders in order to pull down the Capital Prize.

He had been such a Hit in the Maple-Sundae Set that he could not conceive the possibility of any Female becoming satiated with his Society.

The poor Loon never stopped to figure out that the only way to keep a Girl sitting up and interested is to stay away once in a while and give her a Vacation.

Father was right on the Job to see that Bernice had no Vacation. He framed it up to give her a Foretaste of Matrimony every Day in the Week.

If the Future Husband wandered more than thirty feet from her side, Father would nail him and Sic him on to her again.

She would look up and say: "Oh, Fury! Look who's here again!"

This was no way for a true-hearted Maiden to speak of her Soul Mate.

Father put the Cap Sheaf on his big Experiment by accepting an invitation to go Yachting.

He put them side by side on Deck and told them to comfort each other, in case anything happened.

They never could have been quite the same to each other after that Day.

Bernice wanted to get back on Sh.o.r.e and hunt her Room and peel down to a Kimono and refuse any Callers for a Month.

Even the accepted Swain was beginning to slow up. He could remember the time when he used to sit around with members of his own s.e.x.

Father had no Mercy. He took the two Invalids back to Land and rounded them up for Breakfast next morning.

When Kenneth appeared, he was slightly greenish in Color.

One Ear was three times as large as the other. He had caught a Sniffy Cold.

In partaking of his Coffee he made Sounds similar to those coming through the Part.i.tion when the People in the adjoining Flat have trouble with the Plumbing.

He saw Bernice glaring at him and bit his Nails in Embarra.s.sment.

Father felt the Crisis impending and laid on the last Straw.

"I was trying to recall that Story," said he--"the One about the German and the Dog."

Bernice gave one Shriek and then dashed from the Room, making hysterical Outcries along the Corridor.

Father told Kenneth to check all the Trunks for Home and then catch an early Train.

Bernice was squirming about on the Hotel Sofa when Father entered the Room.

She threw herself into his Arms and pa.s.sionately demanded, "Why, oh, why are you trying to force me into marrying that Creature?"

MORAL: Don't get acquainted too soon.

THE NEW FABLE OF THE UPLIFTER AND HIS DANDY LITTLE OPUS

Once there was a Litry Guy who would don his Undertaker's Regalia and the White Satin Puff Tie and go out of an Afternoon to read a Paper to the Wimmen.

At every Tea Battle and Cookie Carnival he was hailed as the Big Hero.

A good many pulsating Dulcineas who didn't know what "Iconoclast"

meant, regarded him as an awful Iconoclast.

And cynical? Mercy!

When he stood up in a Front Room and Unfolded his MS., and swallowed the Peppermint Wafer and began to Bleat, no one in the World of Letters was safe.

He would wallop d.i.c.kens and jounce Kipling and even take a side-swipe at Luella Prentiss Budd, who was the Poetess Laureate for the Ward in which he lived.

Ever since his Stuff had been shot back by a Boston Editor with a Complimentary Note, he had billed himself as an Author and had been pointed out as such at more than one Chautauqua.

Consequently his Views on Recent Fiction carried much weight with the Carries.

He loved to pile the f.a.gots around a Best Seller and burn it to a Cinder, while the Girls past 30 years of Age sat in front of him and Shuddered.

As for the Drama, he could spread a New York Success on the marble-top Table and dissect it until nothing was left but the Motif, and then he would heave that into the Waste Basket, thereby leaving the Stage in America flat on its back.

And if you mentioned Georgie Cohan to him, the Foam would begin to fleck his Lips and he would go plumb Locoed.

After he had been sitting on the Fence for many years, booing those who tried to saw Wood, his Satellites began coaxing him to write something that would show up Charley Klein and Gus Thomas and all the other Four-Flushers who were raking in Royalties under False Pretenses.

They knew he was a Genius, because nothing pleased him.

He decided to start with something easy and dash off an Operetta.

Having sat through some of the Current Offerings, he noted that the Dialogue was unrelated to Real Literature and the Verses lacked Metrical Symmetry.

It would be a Pipe for a sure-enough Bard to sit down on a Rainy Afternoon and grind out something that might serve as a Model for Harry B. Smith.

So he had a Vase of Fresh Flowers put on his Desk every Day, and he would sit there, waiting for the Muse to keep her Date.

At the end of a Month he had it all planned to lay the First Scene in front of a Palace with a Forest on the Back Drop so as to get a lot of Atmosphere.