Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1917-12-14
Daddy, Alias
Carrots

By Jane Osborn

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Copyright. 1917, by the Mcclure Newspa-
per Syndicate.)
Bah was sitting darning socks in the
mellow glow of the living-room table,
light when Babbette appeared at the
door. Bah in a gray frock with a
white fichu, hair parted in the middle
and spectacles on her little nose was
demure. Babbette was respondent,
captivating. She made one breathe fast
just to look at her, standing there with
round, bare arms and round young
body. Steve, reading his paper and sit
ting opposite to Bah at the table, swal-
lowed hard and blinked.
"What's the matter, DEAR" Bah
asked, taking off her glasses and look
ing at him %anxiously. doesn't Bah
bette's dress look pretty? I copied it
after n in a shop window on the ave-
nue.. We didn't think 1t looked home
madey."
"Oh, that's all right-it's immense"
Steve hurried. "That's not the trou-
BILE. I was trying to grasp the idea
that, that-that girl there is my daugh-
teri
Steve Novel; rose with his hands in
his pockets and paced the room medi-
tatively for a minute, while Bah busted
herself fastening the buttons of Bah
cites gloves, tucking in a lock of hair
here and %loosening a few there. Steve
paused when he arrived before the mir
ror owe the m~antlepiece, peered in
and then, striking a match which he
took from his 'smoking-coat pocket,
lighted n of Bab's candles-for orna-
ment only-that stood in brass sticks
on the mantlepiece shelf. He held this
up to the side of his face and peered
In. No, there was not a gray hair in
the bushy shock of auburn. scarcely a
wrinkle, unless one could call those
few crows feet-the sort that gather,
Steve assured himself, even on the
faces of young men who are accus-
toned to smiling with their eyes.
He blew out the candle and clenched
his right-hand fingers into q fist and,
with his left hand on his right biceps,
felt his muscle. Then he Strengthened
himself up to his full six feet, stood on
the balls Of his feet and inhaled as If
to test his lung capacity.
'It can't be-" he told himself. '1'm
not ready to be that girls father-I'm
too young. I'm only a boy-and before
many years I'll be q grandfather? He
looked at Bah sitting so contentedly by
the lamp. She had resumed her darn
ing and Babbette was standing reading
Steve's paper. Yes, Steve reflected,
Bah was content to take a back seat.
What was it to her that old age had
been forced upon them and that for all
their days and nights to come they
must sit there reading papers and
darning socks or, If they did go out, be
mere spectators at a play or opera?
"What on earth's the matter with
you dad?" queried the eighteen-year-
old daughter, glancing up from the pa
per, and then, not waiting for him to
answer, IT wonder where Goggles can
be9 I was sure I'd be late and here he
is keeping me waiting she went on.
Goggles, who's Goggles?" queried
Steve.
Bah and Babbette looked up in sur
prise. "Why, Goggles is Babbette's
new friend with the e~ight-cylinder. It
makes it so nice for Babette."
"Which-Goggles or the eight-cylin-
der7" queried Steve.
"Don't be silly, dad" said the re-
s%plendent young thing, as she folded
her warm arms about Steve and kissed
him on the chin in a thoroughly daugh-
terly fashion. I'm not a bit interested
in Goggles-but anyone would dote on
his motor"
Steve caught the faint perfume-in-
toxicating exotic-that chung to his
daughters evening frock. When he
had courted Bah, he recalled, girls used
some simple scent-violet or lily-of-
~the-valley. Those were simple days.
What a thing It must be to be young,
Steve thought, young when girls used
perfume like that-redolent of strange
Eastern romance, Persian gardens in
the moonlight, Indian temples and
tropical islands. Steve's impression
was not distinct but it was zone the
less vivid. And Goggles, just because
ue udu an eiSHt-cyllnueI eouiu ohdie'
the society of a goddess like Babette.
Steve rubbed his eyes as If to wipe
the film of twenty years of married
life from them. What a thing to be
young again! he thought. Why, he
was young. People often told him he
didn't look thirty, and if it weren't for
that, lovely creature there calling him
dad he might sometimes forget that
he was nearer to the half century
mark.
Bah had run off to the telephone
bell, and came back with the color Of
her pink and white cheeks heightened
with rage.
'Tsn't it perfectly horrid~ she
stnrmed. ct was Goggles and he's at