The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1919-11-08
Why Father Tells About Mothers
 Other BeauX

That" said the father of tho family, exhibiting a picture in the paper, "was an old beau of your mother's."
 :sHuh-wh-what?" stuttered Caro- line. Why, did mother have any love affair besides you? How funny"
 Wasn't it." agreed her father in stantly. That's what I pointed out to her when I came along. In fact, it was my clinching argument, you might say. Yes, she was some girl In those days. She-'
 "Now." objected his aroused wife. 'Pay no attention to his rambling, Caroline. As I have always told you, nice girls do not flirt-'
 This one was not so bad in those days" pursued the father of the family, blithely returning to the newspaper picture. Just now he has got to explain how his company made several million when nobody else did. There is nothing nowadays which seems to require so much indignant explaining as that. He used to wear wing collars and his ears stuck out, and that time he kissed her"
 ''Mother-r-r!"
 Really, Wi1fred, I nev-"
 Her taste was not fully formed in those days" went on the father There was another one, a tall, lone some sort of pine named Jennings, that I never could see how she en- dured. He called Tuesdays, Fridays and Sundays, and the house resound- ed with the groans of her helpless and afflicted family, because he al- ways brought along a cornet and she played piano accompaniInents in the g1oaming and fed him c!4Stly welsh rarebits and they talked ~souls. He earned $6 a week in a drug store-
 "Why mother, you said yourself that Arthur Lennon would never amount to anything because all he does Is play the piano and you dldn want me to encour-
 "Remember your case on Art Jones?' went on the father of the family with deep interest The one who took you buggy riding so much back of that caved-in horse and kept vor up so late that your father set the alarm clock at 10:3O and put It beneath the parlor sofa?
 Art was a timid soul. When the clock went off he jumped clear through the big Satsuma vase your mother thought so much of. I guess you must have lost 10 pounds mourn ing over Art"
 "Why. mother!' cried Caroline, round-eyed And you told me your self 1t was silly at my age to care more than being just good friends with-'
 There was a light in your parlor every night when Ted Ramsden was on deck,'' went on the bomb thrower. ''I would be on my way home from an ice cream social or something elevat- 11d 91 frittered away all the golden hours drinking in Ted's moonings. He wrote poetry and, what was worse, read Y aloud. And when the quarrel came your life was wrecked till Bill Hard wick hoved in sight"
 ..Motfer!' Caroline broke in. why I never dreamed that mothers had vere-were just like girls. Why, you've had more beaux than are on earth nowadays. l never heard any thing like it. And you've always talked so about not being boy crazy and I want to know alF there Is to tell about every single case
 ''There," said her mother wrath fully to the father of the family. "1 hone you're satisfied. I'll never have line after your wretched stories. And thev aren't true, anyhow. At least they don't sound to me as though they could be true about me, I'm sure they were all very nice boys and lust mere friends and-
 'Huhr said the father of the family. Don't you like to have me stir the ashes of your past? I'll teach YOU to show my baby picture In the wash bowl to your sewing circle again, I wilt"-Chicag News.