The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1903-09-16
THE SPEN DE r s
TALE OF THE THIRD ENERATION
By Harry Leon Wilson
copyrgh by Lot
THE THIRD Q ZEN E r A T Q n

was from the what-not this modern bit of
mechanism was from the old cottage organ
the latter with its ''Casket Of Household
Melodies and the former with its perfo-
rated paper repertoire of THE World
Best Music" ranging without prejudice
from Beethoven's Fifth Symphony to Il
Never Did Like a Niger NOhow." by a
composer who shall be unnamed on this
page.
bother him when he makes litter with all
those old plans and estimates and maps or
his" said Psyche; you'll be able TO do.
lot more work, Uncle Peter, this winter.
Yes, only amt got any more work TO do
than ever had. and | always managed to
do that, no matter how you did clean up
after me and mix up my papers. I'm like
old Niger Pomeroy. He was dom a Job OF
whitewashin' one day, and he had an old
whitewash brush with most of the hair gone
out of it l says TO him, 'Pomeroy, why
twice as much work. And Pomeroy says,
That's right, Mr.. Bines, but the trouble is
l amt got twice as much work to do. SO
don't you folks get out my account" he
concluded politely.
And you know we shall be in mourn
ing" said Psyche to her brother.
I've thought of that. We can't do any
entertaining. except of the most informal
kind, and We can't go out, except very in
formally; but, then, you know, there aren't
many people that have us on their lists,
| and while we're keeping quiet We shall have
a chance to get acquainted little.
Il hear they do have dreadful times with
Don't let that bother you, ma, her son
treasured her. "Well go to the Hightower
Hotel, first. You remember you and pa were
| there when it first opened. It's twice as
| large now, and We'll take suite, have our
| meals served privately. our own servants
| provided by the hotel, and you won't have
| thing to worry you. Well be snug there
| for the winter. Then for the summer We'll
| go to Newport, and when we come back
| from there We'll take a house. Meantime
after we've looked around a bit, We'll build
IL those
| of the park"
II almost dread it," his mother rejoined
II never did see how they kept track of all
| the help in that hotel and If it's twice as
monstrous now, however do they do it-and
| have the beds all made every day and the
meals always on time?"
And you can get meals there" said Per.
| cival. I've been needing a broiled lobster
all summer-and now the oysters will be due
| fine fat Buzzard's Bays-and oyster
crabs"
HE amt been able to touch a morsel out
| here" observed Uncle Peter, with palpa-
| bly, false air of concern. Il got all worried
| up about him, barely peckin' at crumo or
two
Il never could learn to eat those oysters
| out of their Shells" Mrs. Bines confessed.
| They taste so much better out of the can.
| Once we had them raw and on two of mine
| were those horrid little green cabs, actually
| squirming. 1 was going to send them back,
but your pa laughed and ate them himself
ate them alive and kicking"
And terrapin.' exclaimed Percival, with
| anticipatory relish.
| That terrapin stew does taste kind of
| good his mother admitted, but, land
! sakes, it has so many little bits of bones in
| ii / always get nervous eating Ii. 1t makes
me feel as if all my teeth were coming out
| You'll soon learn all those things, ma,
| said her daughter-"and not to talk to the
walters, and everything like that. She al,
| ways asks them how much they earn, and
| dren and il any Of them are sick, you
| know" she explained to Percival.
And suppose you amt much Of D., hand m
| fur smokin' cigarettes, are you MAJ! IN
| quired Uncle Peter, casually.
| Met exclaimed Mrs Bines, In horror; Il
| never smoked one of the nasty little things
in nay life
| SON. said the old man to Percival, re-
| proachfully, lis that any way to treat your
own mother? Here she's had all this sum-
mer to learn cigarette smoki m, and you
when you know she's got to learn. Get her
one now she can light up"
| why, Uncle Peter Bines, how absurd!'
exclaimed his granddaughter.
well, them ladies smoked the other day,
| and they was some of the reg Ter original
Van Vanvans. You don't want your poor ma
KEEP out of the game, do you? Coin to let
her set around and toy with the coppers, or
maybe keep cases now and then, are you!
Or, are you goin to get her a stack OF every
color and let her play with you? Pish, now,
| havin' been to a Frisco seminary-she can
pick it up. prob'ly in no time; but ma ought
| to have practice here at home. so she can
|
Marthy. them Turkish cigarettes, in nice
silver box with some naked ladies painted
| on the outside. and your own monogram
] M. B. in gold letters on every cigarette"
I Don't let him scare you, ma, Percival
| interrupted. You'll get into the game all
right, and I'll see that you have good
| time"
"Only hope the First NJ. E. Church OF
| Montana City never hears of her outrageous
| cuttin sup" said Uncle Peter, as IL to
himself. They'd have her up and church
her. sure-smokin' cigarettes with her gold
monogram on, at her age!'
| And of course we must go to the Episo-
| copal Church there" said Psyche IT think
| those Episcopal ministers are just the
| smartest looking men ever. So swell look
| ing and anyway it's the only church the
right sort of people go TO. We must be aw-
fully high church, too. It's the very best
| way to know nice people"
| II s'pose If every day'd be Sunday by
| and-by like the old song says, it'd be easier
fur YOU wouldn't it?' asked the old man.
You and Petite would be 401 and 402 In jest
| no time at all.
| Uncle Peter continued to be perversely
| politan society in the world. But Uncle
Peter was a grabbed old man, lingering past
| his generation, and the young people made
| generous allowance for his infirmities.
Percival, when later they were alone, 1--WE
I must be careful about ma; she will persist
in making such dreadful breaks, in spite OF
| everything / can do. In San Francisco last
4 June, lust before we went to Steamine
Springs, there one hot day. and OF
course everybody was complaining. Mrs
| Beale remarked that ii wasn't the heat that
bothered u.s. but the humidity. 1t was sc
damp, you know. Ma spoke right UP so ev-
erybody could hear her. and said, Yes; isn't
the humidity dreadful? Why, it's just run
ming off me from every pore!"