![Search "Stories of the Streets and of the Town [First Series]." by ADE, GEORGE: 1866-1944. in IUCAT, Google Books, OCLC WorldCat, or HathiTrust](/inauthors/images/external.png)
THE FABLE OF THE KITTENISH SUPERANNS AND THE WORLD-WEARY SNIPES
ONCE upon a Time an ambitious Cove separated himself from his native Shire and made a long Trek.
He came of one of those Nice Families that had run out of nearly everything except Prestige.
The Migrater carried a flossy Label. He had been christened Adelbert Justitian.
As he progressed from Pin-Feathers to the Age of Discretion, he became Joseph to the Cruel Knowledge that his swell Moniker, together with the Fact that his Father had been given a Sword by the Regiment, and the further Fact that his Aunt had contributed to the Atlantic Monthly, were not bringing in any Jack.
They were Proud Possessions but he could not convert them into Pork Chops.
He wanted a Roll.
The Home-Town Method of slipping $2.75 every Saturday to the flaccid Willie in the Savings Bank did not look very Efficacious to Adelbert.
He wanted his Gelt for himself and not for the acidulated Relatives who sent him the punk Christmas Cards.
page: 113[View Page 113]He went right out into what is called God's Country by the Promoters doing business there.
Out where he could lean up against Ozone and Scenery.
As soon as he escaped from his Social Prerogatives and became known as "Dell," he began to deliver the Trading Stamps and bring home the Side-Meat.
After many leaves had been torn from the CalMillionaire showed up on the Native Heath.
The local Fungi looked askance at the Cow-Puncher Hat, dented in from the Top with geometrical Nicety, but they warmed to the Long-Lost when they learned that he was there, much, yet and besides with all shapes of the needful Brass.
The Adelbert Justitian did not harmonize with a Soft Collar. He had his Cards printed "A. J." and decided to chop on the Money-Grubbing and devote his Time to being a Good Scout.
The Life Dream of every Coin Collector is to go back to his original P. 0. Address and bleat at those who never could see anything in him.
Old A. J. felt a snickering Satisfaction when he bought a Country Place with a Garage and Terraces.
He told the Interior Decorators to go as far as they liked.
That kind of Language, addressed to an Interior Decorator, is about the most Expensive Chatter that can be spilled.
page: 114[View Page 114]The returned Exile was game. He liked the Gaff. His Shack was to be a Bird.
While A. J. had been garnering the Wampum, he had not kept close Tab on Social Evolution.
So far as Parlour Antics were concerned, he was a Flying Lizard and belonged in the age of Flint Weapons. He was still mooching around in the primeval Period of the Oyster Supper and the Military Schottische.
When he got ready to exhibit his Chateau to the Townsmen his first Idea was a Lawn Party with Paper Lanterns and a churn of Lemonade but some one tipped the Boob that he would be expected to pull a few House Parties.
It rather jarred him when he learned that he was expected to haul bunches of People out to his House and Board them for a while and also arrange the Premises so that a Guest could not move in any direction without coming face to face with a Canteen.
It was the approved British Dope, however, and he had to go through with it.
Also he began to hear about the Sets.
When he left the simple Burg, away back in the Era of Buffalo Robes and low-crowned Derbies, any kind of a Shindig was free-for-all.
Now the Lines were being drawn. He had to submit his Lists to a few of the Huckleberry-Doos and they used the Blue Pencil without compunction.
Some of the Old Boys and former Sweethearts page: 115[View Page 115] were pushed into the Discard because their Manners were too Low or their Gowns were too High-that is, in the Neck.
The real Tamales refused to accept a Bid to any Doings except on a Guarantee. They could not turn down A. J., because his deceased Relatives had been Eminent, but they showed him how to head in and where to get off.
At last the Invites were sent out and all the names were extremely Delicatessen.
The first week-end Session was to be a quiet Affair for the antique Quackydoodles and the Spectacled Hens whom A. J. had known in the Happy Days agone.
It was to be a Combination of Chautauqua, Bean Bag, and Peace Conference.
But the second Party, it was to be Some Jubilee!
It was to be wide-open and Hoorah, for the Great House on the Hill was to resound with the Laughter of gay Debutantes, while the blithe Lads from the Varsity were to group at the Baby Grand and sing
A. J. was scared over the prospect of trying to cook up a little Diversion for the Silver-Grays but he knew the Kids would cut loose and have a regular Lark.
The Host could not get it out of his Bean that he was expected to make a Fuss over his Visitors and see that they were being royally entertained.
The Rivers are dragged every Summer for Society
page: 116[View Page 116]People who jump in to escape the Host who tries to be Considerate.
A. J. had a dandy little Time-Table all rigged out for the Old Codgers.
They were to arrive Saturday p. M.
After Dinner there would be a Session of Progressive Euchre for Neat Prizes such as Work-Baskets and Manicure Sets.
This would be all over and out by Ten O'clock because the Fathers and Mothers of Grown Children could not sit up until all hours of the Night, playing Cards.
How to tide them over the Sabbath Day was a sure-enough Problem.
He put plenty of Recent Fiction all around the place, careless like.
The Men were to be walked around and shown the Garden and Orchard and the new Litter of Pups.
Two Motors were ordered to be on hand for those wishing to attend Divine Services in the Village.
By sorting over the Rolls, the Master of the House found some Sacred Music to be fed into the Player-Piano
The long, dull Sabbath Evening still stood vacant on the Schedule.
As nearly as A. J. could remember back into the days of Youth, the only reasonable thing to do on Sunday Evening is to drink a Glass of Milk and Keel backward on to a Feather Tick.
He wanted to frame some kind of Time-Killing
page: 117[View Page 117]Specialty, but Games and Pastimes were not suitable for the Day of Rest and he was not sure that any of the Ladies could Sing.
He decided that after the Group had re-assembled in what he called the Front Room he would pull a little Spiel on the Duty of America in the World-Crisis and ask for an Expression of Views and thus stall along until Nine-Thirty, when it would be time to Turn In.
The Sere and Yellows arrived on the Dot but thirty seconds after they weighed in, the beautiful Outline of Business prepared by A. J. was hit in the head and thrown over the Precipice.
They seemed to realize that they were away out in the Country, and governed themselves accordingly.
They Tested the Welkin and threw Kisses at the Life-Saving Station.
The Heads of Large Business Concerns wanted to know if they could peel their Coats and did the Ordinances prohibit Rough House?
From the first sound of the Gong, it did not look like a Progressive Euchre Party.
Only about seventeen or eighteen Persons were talking at the same time.
A. J. had planned to move about and act as Greeter and make them feel at Home.
Before he had time to Spring the Neat Phrases he had rehearsed, he found himself hemmed in by the Shoulder-Slappers.
They gave a Rouse in the Spring-Time for Little
page: 118[View Page 118]Playmate and told him his Road House was a Bear.
The Bridles were off and they did not have to be personally Conducted.
Every time A. J. started in to give Directions, some one proposed Three Rousing Cheers.
It was one of those Parties at which all the Host has to do is keep up.
They raved about his House and View toward the West.
They spoke in the most complimentary Terms of the Country Air which he had provided.
He felt flushed and delighted and Important.
He had spent $30,000 getting ready for the Proud Moment and he was to the Good within an Hour after the Adult Rowdies piled in on him. They handed him $50,000 worth of Bunk.
As he sat at the Head of the Table that evening and received a Bombardment of clamorous Con-versation, he began to tumble to the Fact that Life among the Well-to-Do had perked up about 80 or 90 Per Cent while he had been wasting his Time in the Far West.
There was more Latitude in the department of Anecdotes.
Also a more pronounced Tinge of Indigo.
As long as the prominent Matrons stood without hitching he tried to let on to appear not to be Feazed.
He hooked his Feet around the Table-Leg and tied his Napkin in a Hard Knot when some of the Female page: 119[View Page 119] Members of his old Sunday School Class began to blow Cigarette Smoke out of the Ears, Eyes and Noses.
Being a True Sport, he never let on.
Before he had a Chance to pull a Boner and suggest the prehistoric Euchre, all the Card Tables were whisked away and the Loud Needle was at work in the Ragaphone.
He saw reputable Women, with Grandchildren in the Third and Fourth Readers, get right out in the middle of the Floor and slap Father Time in the Face.
The Prizes he had on hand were awarded a couple of neat Tangoers not much past 65.
They slowed up and sought the Hay about the time that Railroad Men go to work.
The next Day being Sunday the poor old Decreps had to jump under the Showers early so as to get in 36 holes.
There did not seem to be any run on Recent Fiction, but the staring Villagers, on their way to Services, saw the Autos buzz right on, past the Methodist Mosque and out to the Country Club.
What with Food and Moisture and Bridge and a little more Stepping, the vigilant Master of Ceremonies had on chance whatever to sound them on the Situation in Europe. He could not discover that they had heard about the late War.
They arose Monday morning all freshened up, having slept a Grand Total of nearly 6 Hours.
He had to glad-hand them out of the Gate and
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He saw reputable Women, with Grandchildren in the Third and Fourth Readers,
get right out in the middle of the Floor and slap Father Time in the Face.
page: 121[View Page 121] listen while they boosted him and his cute little Villa and told
him he was a Prince.
For two days he rested and then he began to Train for the real Joyfest.
The Old Ones had simply dazed him by their demonstration of Class and their Ability to stay in the High while going Up-Hill.
He decided that the rollicking Juniors probably would break a lot of Furniture and put his Home on the Blink.
He had the Corners of the House re-enforced and told the servants not to come running in, no matter what Noises they heard.
A. J. was just as rejuvenated as a Lambkin when he stood out in front to welcome the Buds and the Striplings. He was all Set to be just as Young as any Nestling in the Covey.
Soon after, he found himself in the presence of pale Young Women who seemed unable to straighten out any of their Extremities and who gazed at him reproachfully, as if they had heard something about him.
Behind them stood a compact Huddle of He-Whiffets who sized him up with what seemed to be Gloomy Apprehension.
He pulled a weak Bromide about Liberty Hall but, just as it escaped him, he realized that it sounded Hollow and Unconvincing.
Some of them smiled back but it appeared to Hurt.
He saw them climb wearily to their Apartments page: 122[View Page 122] and then he sat in one chair after another,wondering what he was up against.
He surmised that it would be a hefty Job to stage manage any Revels for the Troupe of Trained Chilblains.
They were all young and well provided for. He wondered why they were so Discouraged.
He knew that not one of them had been farther away than Toledo, Ohio. He could not make out why they were so blooming Blase.
After an incredible Lapse of Time they began to descend the Stairway, one at a time and fall, semi-recumbent, on the Upholstery
They seemed passionately fond of long and brooding Silences but they inspected their Surroundings with a cold and filmy Eye.
Although they did not speak out and say so, the Owner felt that they disapproved of Him and the jiggly Ornament up the side of his Hose and the Grand Rapids Furniture and the Pattern of the Rug and the Tassels on the Curtains.
He had learned to do a little Mind-Reading on the Side while accumulating his Pile and he guessed that they were thinking as follows: "We are here and at your Mercy. We expect to be Bored but don't kid yourself into thinking that you can put anything Over."
Once more he sat at the head of the Board but this time he did not have to dodge any Bouquets.
He looked at the dignified Gourmets, as they
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After an incredible Lapse of Time they began to descend the Stairway, one
at a time and fall, semi-recumbent, on the Upholstery
page: 124[View Page 124] turned over various Specimens of Food with their Forks and seemed
to be wondering if they were good to Eat.
The Topics he tried to project turned out to be Small Town Gossip and Last Year's Stuff.
He thought the Dancing would help to Ungrouch them but they looked over his Records and failed to find anything Late.
After they had paired off stealthily and hunted dim Corners and lapsed into low Death-Chamber Con-versations, the genial Provider went far out on the Lawn and tried to figure why so many Young Lives had been clouded.
He did not have to worry about getting through Sunday.
Most of them did not come up for Air until the Sun had crossed the Meridian, although the Servants were busy from Eleven O'Clock on, hustling Breakfast Orders up the stairway to the Lady Vere-de Veres and the self-made Young Business Men.
A. J. had read in Novels about the Duchess having her Breakfast in Bed but this was the first time he had known the Plain People to get away with it.
They finally slinked into the Light of Day and made some Inquiries about Dinner and then strolled.
He was so Buffaloed that he made no further effort to Ring In.
It dawned on him that they were interested in Things that he had not yet heard about. He did not belong in the Picture.
page: 125[View Page 125]When he sneaked away to his Boudoir at the usual hour, he felt reasonably sure that no one would miss him
After they had been pried from the Husks and mobilized on Monday, the chastened Host was on hand to be sure that all of them got off the Place.
They seemed to remember having met him some-where and spoke to him pleasantly, just before Departing.
At the Country Club he met an ancient Golfer and related his Sufferings.
"It is the new Order of Things," said his Pal.
"The Patriarchs are now called Boys, and the gilded Nut, calling his Mate at Eventide, addresses him as Old Top. Don't blame the Kids because they are sniffy and condescending. The Swank and Side and dreadful Ongway are the results of Home Training. The Poor Things have been spoon-fed and indulged until they have come to regard all kindly Attentions as a mere Matter of Course. In a few years, they will have Families of their Own and about that time the Great Sorrows will come into their Lives. The Dollars will no longer grow on Bushes and these same haughty Tadpoles will be grateful to any one who comes along and splashes them with Sunshine. In the meantime you had better Lay Off and not try to get fresh with your Superiors."
Moral: Youth is the time for Gravity.
