The spectator., 1922-05-16
FATHERS DEN
By VIVIAN BURBANK

With roses? sniffed pa.
 T have said ma.
 Yes, grunted father doubtfully, but you never saw one"
 I'm hot over crazy about having den, anyway"
 Maybe you're not" Pa threw his paper down on the table, disgusted like. If your Aunt Mary hadn't camped with us for two years, we'd had den, then, and I'd had one room in the house that I could sit in in peace. cant smoke in the kitchen, might suffocate the canary Can't light up in the dining room, or the parlor mustn't spoil the curtains, or turn the silver. I'll tell you right now, Tillie, | that I'm doggone sick and tired of trotting down three flights of stairs every time l want to smoke. Sit there on an old butter tub and-well, I'm sick of it-and I'm going to have d den i''
 l "There1l be no curtains .''
 "No you bet there won't! Canaries, either"
 But. George, we won't have any guest chamber"
 Thank the heaven for that" drawled father. There won't be any place for the company to park, and we'll be so much in"
 Say pa, cant we have the hunting paper?"
 No, I've picked out the paper with the country scenes, brinde cows and all that. 1 hunted all over town for d peaceful and restful paper"
 Scenes, did you say?" asked ma, in- nocently. Country grave yards?"
 That's it, snapped pa, take the joy out of it Seeing that I'm paying the rent on this place, Mrs. Winslow, l guess l can have something to say about the wall paper, cant I?"
 Far be it from me to stop you from having your say. But I must say I don't admire your taste. Aunt Mary 1 just hates cows v
 No? By jove. that's so, tool"
 When the paper came We took 1t into Aunt Mary's room, or what's going to be the den.
 lplu HtE Ilt Ctulu uo lotS DeIteF if she'd leave the room.
 Lock that door pa said to me. but there was no key. so he put wooden horse against the door and made me sit on it.
 Say, pa, someone's tapping on the window" All I could see was a hand, l first, then Mir. Jones head. They live underneath us, and Mir. Jones must have sneaked up the back stairs and onto the piazza, without anybody see ing him.
 Got the paste?" whispered Mir. Jones, climbing through the window.
 "Yup,' said pa. And Mir. Jones put on pair of white overalls
 Mighty good of you. Jones. Tell the truth, l didn't dare tackle the blooming thing alone!"
 Mir, Jones told pa that he was glad to help. They laid the paper on our kitchen table and Mir. Jones cut off one edge, cut them in strips--that is, the paper in strips, and told pa to paste 'em and he'd hang em. Gee l! IL didn't take long before one whole side was almost covered. He stayed on the ladder and pa handed him the strips.
 Pa was pasting to beat the flying horses when I heard ma coming down the hall. told pa, and he hurried to give a long strip to Mir. Jones, and somehow he got tangled up and slipped on the pasty side. He grabbed the lad der. and Mir. Jones said cuss word, but that didn't stop him. and next minute down came Mir. Jones, ladder, brushes and everything on top of pa
 Mercy" yelled ma, banging the door What on earth are you l doing?"
 Don't you get off that thing" whis- l pered pa at me. trying to get out from under Mir. Jones and pull the paper off | his neck. "You-" | George. open that door," I stuck until ma banged chair against the door and knocked me and the old horse over. Ma burst into the room. She paid no attention to pa, but pulled the pa per off Mir. Jones face and when she saw who it was she lit in to him, just as if he was pa. What does this mean, Mir. JonesT "Mean?" snapped Mir. Jones, red as beet and hunting for his necktie. Means like as not I've broken my col lar bone !'
 He helped ma and me get pa up, but pa sat down again.
 Next time, George, don't ring me in on anything you're afraid to tackle yourself. Another thing: L wouldn't stick this confounded looking stuff on wall for any man living; not by jugful. think too much of my repu- tation.
 Ma was holding pas head in her lap.
 'I'll paper the blame thing or bust !" muttered pa, rubbing his shoulder