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Babbitt

Chapter 5 5

Word Count: 5706    |    Released on: 28/11/2017

elf during the hour and a half of his lunch-period were somew

ell him I'm already having the title traced. And oh, b' the way, remind me to-morrow to have Penniman trace it. Now if anybody comes in looking for a cheap

tend to it that afternoon. (For three noons, now, he had placed the same letter on the unfinished pile.) He scrawled on a sheet of yellow ba

geously returned the cigar-box to the correspondence-file, locked it up, hid the key in a more difficult place, and raged, "Ought to take

y. Immediately after it he decided th

edge it into the traffic than it would have take

ith the fondness of fami

three stories lower, therefore three stories less beautiful, than his own Reeves Building. As always when he passed the Parthenon Shoe Shine Parlor, a one-story hut which beside the granite and red-brick ponderousness of the old California Building resembled a bath-house under a cliff, he

ional, and considered how clever and solid he was to bank with so marbled an establishment. His high moment came in the clash of traffic when he was halted at the corner beneath the lofty Second National Tower. His car was banked with four others in a line of steel restless as cavalry, while the cross town traffic, limousines and enormous moving-vans and insistent motor-cycles, poured by; on the farther corner, pne

he was passing the five-and-ten-cent store, the Dakota Lodging House, Concordia Hall with its lodge-rooms and the offices of fortune-t

see: six times twelve is seventy-two hundred and-Oh rats, anyway, I'll make eight thousand-gee now, that's not so bad; mighty few fellows pulling down eight thousand dollars a year-eight thousand good hard iron dollars-bet there isn't more than five per cent. of the people in the whole United

rtations he stopped his car, rushed into a small news-and-miscellany shop, and bought the electric cigar-lighter which he had coveted for a wee

nly, as the placard on the counter observed, "a dandy little refinement, lending the last touch of class to a gentleman's auto," b

nice. Always wanted one," he said wistf

ed that he had g

ting chummy with some fellow that would put over a sale. And-Certainly looks nice there. Certainly is a mighty clever little jigger. Gives the last touch of r

hree and a half blocks of romantic

I

a cafe in which to lunch, play cards, tell stories, meet customers, and entertain out-of town uncles at dinner. It is the largest club in the city, and its chief hatred is the conservative Union Club, which all sound members of the Athletic call "a rotten, snobbish, dull, expensive old hole-not one Good Mixer in the place-you could

stone, its pointed vaulting, and a brown glazed-tile floor like well-baked bread-crust, is a combination of cathedral-crypt and rathskellar. The members rush into the lobby as though t

unch that he turned with enthusiasm. Mr. Gunch was president of the Boosters' Club, a weekly lunch-club, local chapter of a national organization which promoted sound business and friendliness among Regular Fellows. He was also no less an official than Esteemed Leading Knight in the Benevolent and Protective Order of Elks, and it was rumored that at the next election he would be a candidate for Exalted Ruler. He was a jolly man, given to oratory and to

olsheviki? How do you feel, the

rg! Hope you haven't forgotten I took that last cute little

time, Georgie! Say, juh notice in the paper the

hat was fine, eh?

y fine spring day, b

-porch. Say, Sid," Babbitt turned to Finkelstein, the buyer, "got something wanta ask yo

bulbous man with a pepper-and-salt cutaway and a pipe-organ voice, commente

t, the clerk said it was. Paid five bucks for it. Just wonderin

hing is-the best you can get! Now you take here just th' other day: I got a new top for my old boat and some upholstery, and I paid out a hundred and twenty-six fifty, and of course a lot of fellows would say that was too much-Lord, if the Old Folks-they live in one of these hick towns up-state and they simply can't get onto the way a city fellow's mind works, and then, of course, they're Jews, and they'd lie right down a

intensive living, the way you get it here in Zenith-all the hustle and mental activity that's going on with a bu

the roaring rhythm; and by the conclusion, in G

heard your business has been kind of under the eye of the go

this report that you stole the black marble steps off the post-office and sold

w is: who's the real-estate shark that bo

archer's to buy him some collars, and before she could give his neck-size the clerk slips her some thirteens. 'How juh know the size?' says Mrs. Babbitt, and the clerk sa

he sleeping-porch, the domestic tyrant of the breakfast table, the crafty money-changer of the Lyte-Purdy conference, nor the blaring Good Fellow, the Josher and Regular Guy, of the Athletic Club. He was an older brother to Paul R

e old hor

ess. How're you,

you second-hand

ror. Voices thick, satisfied, authoritative, hurtled along the marble walls, bounded from the ceiling of lavender-bordered milky tiles, while the lords of the city, the barons of insurance and law and fertilizers and motor tires, laid down the law for Zenith; announced that the day was warm-indeed, indisputably of spring; that wages were too high and the interest on mortgages too lo

th Tudor leaded casements, an oriel, a somewhat musicianless musicians'-gallery, and tapestries believed to illustrate the granting of Magna Charta. The open beams had been hand-adzed at Jake Offutt's car-body works, the hinge; were of hand-wrought iron, the wainscot studded with handmade wooden pe

mondeley Frink, the poet and advertising-agent, and Orville Jones, whose laundry was in many ways the best in Zenith. They composed a club within the club, and merrily called themselves "The Roughnecks." To-day as he passed

wads!" and guided Paul to one of the small tables beneath the musicians'-gallery. He felt gu

t of cheese, and a pot of coffee with cream, adding, as he did invariably, "And uh-Oh, and you might give me an order of French fried potat

lectric cigar-lighter, and the action of the New York State Assembly. It was no

ng up, but I've felt kind of down in the mouth all day long. Course I wouldn't beef about it to the fellows at the Roughnecks' Table there, but you-Ever feel that way, Paul? Kind of comes over me: here I've pretty much done all the things I ought to; supported my family, and got a good house and a six-cylinder ca

to the waitress, by stertorous grunts as the coffee filled him with dizziness and indigestio

s, that think we're so all-fired successful, aren't getting much out of it? You look

w, old

mes when I look at her and see how she's always so made up and stinking of perfume and looking for trouble and kind of always yelping, 'I tell yuh I'm a lady, damn yuh!'-why, I want to kill her! Well, she keeps elbowing through the crowd, me after her, feeling good and ashamed, till she's almost up to the velvet rope and ready to be the next let in. But there was a little sq

face of the devil-and all the time the people there-they were packed in like sardines-they kept making remarks about us, and Zilla went right on talking about the little chap, and screeching that 'folks like him oughtn't to b

an, respectable, moral life isn't all it's cracked up to be, do you? I can't even talk about it, except to you, because anybody else woul

bout what a whale of a realtor I am, and yet sometimes I get a sneaking idea I'm not such a Pierpont Morgan as I let

orgie, you cheerful cut-throat, b

you divor

ld say that ought to be shot at sunrise. But honestly, I'd be tickled to death if she'd really go making love with somebody. Fat chance! Of course she'll flirt with anything-you know how she holds hands and laughs-that laugh-that horrible brassy laugh-the way she yaps, 'You naughty man, you better be careful or my big husband will be after you!'-and the

se W

gs. How she wants everything I can buy her, and a lot that I can't, and how absolutely unreasonable she is, and when I get sore and try to have it out with her she plays the Perfect Lady so well that even I get fooled and get all tangled up in a lot

o-for. By the way, Paul, did I tell you

draw the line at having to sympathize with Zilla because she's so rotten bad-tempered that the cook has quit, and she's been so busy sitting in a dirty lace negligee all afternoon, reading about some brave ma

at 'simp,' little ma

strictly moral, as an example to the community.' In fact you're so earnest about morality, old G

ait now!

casional evening playing the violin to Terrill O'Farrell's 'cello, and three or four darling girls

bor unions, and seeing a big check coming in, and the business increasing. But what's the use of it? You know, my business isn't distributing roofing-

You're pretty darn n

and holler for a million population. I bet if you could cut into their heads you'd find that one-third of 'em are sure-enough satisfied with their wives and kids and friends and their offices; and one-third feel kind of restless but won't admit it; and one-third are miserable and know it. They hate the whole peppy, boosting, go-ahead

to the world to have a soft time and-what is it?-'float on

overed anybody that knew what th

s bore him sometimes, is nothing but a-well, he's simply a weakling. Mollycoddle, in fact! And what do you advocate? Come down t

w that about ten times as many people find their lives dull, and unnecessarily dull, as ever admit it; and I do believe that if we busted out and admitted it sometimes, in

ut what he was being bold. Now and then Babbitt suddenly agreed with Paul in an admission which contradicted all

talking about kicking things in the fa

g for a nice expensive vacation in New York and Atlantic City, with the bright lights and the bootlegged cocktails and a bunch of lounge-lizards to dance with-but the Babbitts and the Rieslings are sure-enough goi

t idea!" Bab

heir wives, but they were officially dedicated to fishing and hunting, whereas the sacred and unchangeable sports of Babbitt and Paul Riesling were golfing, motoring, and bridge. For either

nd say, 'We're going on ahead of you, and that's all ther

going to meet some dames in New York. And even Myra-she never nags you, the way Zilla does, but she'd worry. She'd say, 'Don't you WANT me to go to Ma

eps of the club, not more than half an hour after the time at which Babbitt had sternly told Miss M

man, it let

nventional stuff, I'm conventional enough to be ashamed

us but to go on ahead to Maine. I-Paul, when it comes right down to it, I don't care whether you bust loose or not. I do like having a rep for being one of the Bunch, but if you ever needed me I'd chuck it and come out for you every time! Not of course but what you're-course I don't mean you'd ev

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