, 1925-06-03

Dirk, do you kno what that wom-
an who writes the society news in the
Sunday Tribune called you today?"
mo. What? / never read it."
"She said you were one Of the
jeunesse doree."
Dirk grinned. Gosh |"
II remember enough of my French
at Miss listers school to know that
that means gllded youth"
Me! That's good! I'm not even
spangled."
Dirk !" her voice was low, vibrant.
"Dirk, I don't want you to be a gilded
youth. / don't care how thick the
gliding. Dirk, that isn't what l worked
in the sun and cold for. I'm not re-
preaching you; l didn't mind the work.
Forgive me for V e mentioning 1t.
But, Dirk, l don't want my son to be
known as n of the jeunesse doree.
MOI! Not my son ~
Nov, listen. Mother. That's fool
ish. If you're going to talk like that.
Like a mother in a melodrama whose
sons gone wrong. I work like
a dog. You know that. You get the
wrong angle or things, stuck out here
on this little farm"
She sat up in bed. looking down at
the thin end of her braid as she twined
1t round and round her finger. Dirk,
do you know sometimes ! actually think
that If you stayed here on the farm"
Good Cd, Motheri What for!'
"Oh, ! don't know. Time to dream.
Time to-no, l suppose that isn't true
any more. l suppose the day is past
when the genius came from the farm.
Machinery has cut into his dreams.
Patent binders, plows, reapers-he's n
mechanic. He hasn't time to dream.
She lay back, looked up ct him,
Dirk, why don't you marry?"
"Why-there's no one l. want to mar
ry."
NO one who's free, you meant"
He stood up. II mean no one"
He stopped and kissed her lightly. Her
arms went round him close. Her hand
with the thick gold wedding band on
it pressed his head to her hard. 80
big" He was a baby again.
You haven't called me that in
years. He was laughing.
She reverted to the old game they
had played when he was n child. "How
big is my soni How big?" She was
smiling, but her eyes were somber.
$50 big" answered Dirk, and meas
ured a very tiny space between thumb
and forefinger. $50 big"
She faced him, sitting up very
straight in bed, the little wool shawl
hunched about her shoulders. "Dirk,
are you ever going back TO architec-
ture? The war is history. It's now
or never with you. Pretty soon 1t will
be too late. Are you ever going back
to architecture? To your profession?"
A clean ~amputation. mo, Mother"
She gave an actual gasp, as though
Icy water had been thrown full in
her face. She looked suddenly old.
tired. Her shoulders sagged. He stood
in the doorway, braced for her re-
proaches. But when she spoke 1t was
10 reproach herself. ''Then I'm a fail
ure."
"Oh, what nonsense, Mother. I'm
happy. You can't live somebody else's
life. You used to tell me, when l was
a kid, / remember, that life wasn't lust
an adventure, to be taken as 1t came,
with the hope that something glorious
was always hidden just around the
corner. You said you had lived thai
way and 1t hadn't worked. You said"
She interrupted him with a little
cry. II know ! did. / know / did"
Suddenly she raised a warning finger.
Her were luminous. prophetic.
"Dirk, you can't desert her like that ="
Desert who?" He was startled.
Beauty! Self-expression. What
ever you want to call II. You wait f!
She'll turn on you some day. Some
day you'll want her, and she won't be
there"
Inwnrdly he had heen resentful OF
this bedside conversation with his
mother. She made little OF him, he
thought. while outsiders appreciated
his success. He had said. $50 big"
measuring n tiny space between thumb
and forennger In answer TO her half
playful question. but he had not hon.
estly meant II. He thought her rldlcu-
lously old-fashloned now In her View
point, and certainly unreasonable. But
he would not quarrel with her.
"You walt, too. Mother" he said
now, smiling. "Some day your way
ward son will be "a real success. Walt
till The millions roll In. Then well
see
She lay down, turned her back de-
fn ..-. =.
up about her.
"Shall ! turn out your light, Mother.
and open the wlndowsf'
"Meenn1l do II. She always does.
Just call her. Goodnight"
He knew that he had come to be a
rather big man in his world. Innu-