The Connecticut labor press., 1919-09-13
CHAPTER III.

process; tutors came to the house, and those citizens who yearned for his taking down often said: "Just wait till he has to go to public school; then he'll get ~it!" But at twelve GeOrgie was sent to a private school in the town, and there came from this small and independent institution no report, or even rumOr, of GeOrgie's getting anything that he was thought to de serve; therefore the yearning still per sisted, though growing gaunt with feeding upon itself.
 The yearners were still yearning when GeOrgic at sixteen was sent away to q great 'prep school" "NOw,' they said brightly, "he'll get 1t! He'll find himself among boys just l as important in their home town as he is, and they'll knock the stufting out of him when he puts on his airs with them! Oh, but that would be worth something to see!' They were mis- taken, 1t appeared, for when Georgie returned a few months later he still seemed to have the same stuffing. He had been deported by the authorities, the Offense being stated as "insOlence 1 and profanity ;" in fact, he had given the principal of the school instruc- | tions almost identical with those for merly objected to by the Rev. Malloch | Smith.
 But he had not got his come-upance, and those who counted upon it were embittered by his appearance upon the downtown streets driving a dog | cart at a criminal speed, making pc destrians retreat from the crossings, and behaving himself as if he "owned | the earth"
 When MT. George Anderson Nina fer came home for the holidays at Christmastide in his sophomore year, probably no great change had taken | place inside him. but his exterior was visibly altered. Nothing. about him encouraged any hope that he had re- ceived his cOme-upance; on the con- trary, the yearners for that stroke of justice must yearn even more itch ingly: the gilded youths manner had become polite, but his politeness was of a kind which democratic people found hard to bear.
 Cards were out for ball in his honor, and this pageant of the ten antry was held in the ballroom of the Anderson mansion the night after his arrival. It was, as Mrs. Henry Frank lin Foster said of Isabe1's wedding, "a big Amberson-styl thing" All "old citizens" recognized as gentry received cards, and of course so did their dane ing descendants.
 The orchestra and the caterer were brought from away, in the Anderson manner, though this was really a ges- ture-perhaps one more of habit than of ostentatfon-for servitors. of gayety as proficient as these importations were nowadays to be found in the town. It was the last of the great 1ong-remembered dances that "every- body talked about''-there were get ting to be so many people in town that no later than the next year there were too many for Everybody" to hear of even such a ball as the Ambersons'
 George, white-gloved, with a garde- mia in his buttOnhOle, stood with his mother and the Major, embowered in the big red-and-gold drawing room downstairs, to "receive'' the guests and, standing thus together, the trio offered a picturesque example. of good looks persistent through three gene rations. The Major, his daughter and his grandson were of a type all Am person: tall, straight and regular, with dark eyes, short noses, good chins and the grandfather's expression, no less than the grandson's, was one of faintly amused condescension. There was a difference, however. The grand sons unlined young face had nothing to offea except this condescension the grandfather's had other things to say. It was handsome, worldly old | face. conscious of its importance, but persuasive rather than arrogant, and not without tokens of sufferings with stood. The Majors short white hair was parted in the middle, like his grandson's, and in all he stood as briskly equipped to the fashion as the exquisite young George.
 Isabel, standing between her father and her son, caused a vague amaze ment in the mind of the latter. Her age, just under forty, was for George a thought of something as remote as the moons of Jupiter: he could not pOSS1DIY nave cOnceIVeO Sucn an age ever coming to be his own: five years was the limit of his thinking in time Five years ago he had been a child not yet fourteen; and those five years were an abyss. Five years hence he would be almost twenty-four; what the girls he knew called lone of the older men," He could imagine himself at twenty-four, but beyond that his powers staggered and refused the task. He saw little essential differ ence between thirty-eight and eighty eight and his mother was to him not a woman but wholly a mother. The woman, Isabel, was a stranger to her son., as completely stranger as if he had never in his life seen her O1 heard her voice. And it was tonight while he stood with her, "receiving,' that he caught a disquieting glimpse of this stranger whom he thus fleet ingly encountered for the first time.
 Youth cannot imagine romance apart from youth. That is why the roles of the heroes and heroines ot plays are given by the managers tc the most youthful actors they can fnC among the competent. Both middle