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    The Coming of Bill
    The Coming of Bill
    The Coming of Bill
    Ebook378 pages4 hours

    The Coming of Bill

    By P.G. Wodehouse

    4/5

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    About this ebook

    The book tells the story of Kirk Winfield, his marriage to Ruth, and their child called Bill. Bill's upbringing is threatened by the interference of Ruth's busybody writer aunt, Mrs Lora Delane Porter.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherWilder Publications, Inc.
    Release dateJun 10, 2015
    ISBN9781627550062
    The Coming of Bill
    Author

    P.G. Wodehouse

    P.G. Wodehouse (1881-1975) nació en Surrey. Tras trabajar un tiempo como periodista en Inglaterra, se trasladó a los Estados Unidos. Escribió numerosas obras de teatro y comedias musicales, y más de noventa novelas. Creador de personajes inolvidables -Jeeves, Bertie Wooster, su tía Agatha, Ukridge, Psmith, Lord Emsworth, los lechuguinos del Club de los Zánganos, y tantos otros, sus obras se reeditan continuamente, como corresponde a uno de los grandes humoristas del siglo.

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    Reviews for The Coming of Bill

    4/5

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    • 3/5
      A sentimental tale, not what you expect from Wodehouse, but certainly written in his style. Set in New York City some years before the Wall Street crash it is the story of a pleasant young aspiring artist, Kirk Winfield. His independent means remove the need to work at his art and his generous nature provides him with an agreeable coterie of hangers on to keep him amused. An accident to his English manservant leads him to meet the alarming Mrs Lora Delane Porter, a writer and enthusiast for eugenics and physical fitness with a morbid fear of germs and very firm views on child-rearing. She sees in Kirk, despite his unsuitable occupation, a perfect physical match for her neice, Ruth, the highly eligible daughter of a millionaire financier. The couple meet and, fortunately for Mrs Porter's plans, instantly - in a rather typical Wodehouseian manner - recognise each other as soul mates. They marry, against Ruth's father's wishes, are cut off from any of his money and set up in a self-sufficient way in Kirk's studio where they soon have a child - Bill of the title.When troubles come, they come not as single spies but in battallions. The stock that provides Kirk's adequate income crashes, he finds that his dilettante approach to painting has left him with little earning capacity and the solution offered by a pal is to leave his family and go to South America to mine gold. Things do not turn out well and when he returns he finds his wife changed by her inheritance of riches from her late father and his son being cared for in an aseptic white-tiled 'nursery' according to the precepts of Aunt Lora which include regular sponging of Bill and all contacts with a dilute solution of boric acid.Things have to change to reach the expected happy ending and, with the help of Kirk's personal trainer and friend, Steve and a blind eye or two from butler Keggs they do. Steve is a typical Wodehouse character, a Lower East Side plug-ugly with a heart of gold and great common sense, as is Keggs, a stately figure above stairs but his own man below, particularlly after a glass or two of the amber nectar. Aunt Lora is cut from the same cloth as most other Wodehouse aunts and maintains her dignity to the end.There are many other PGW books which will give more enjoyment than this but it is well crafted and not without humour.
    • 3/5
      A pleasant piece of Wodehouse - no Jeeves here, it's the love story between a rich young woman and a struggling artist and the complications caused by a meddling aunt and sudden wealth. The "Bill" of the title is their son and I was reminded very much of Nancy Mitford's (superior) work "The Blessing", although Bill is too young to be as manipulative as dear Sigi! Very enjoyable, light read.
    • 3/5
      A surprising Wodehouse that deviates heavily from the well-known mould of light romantic music-hall comedy, with a rather serious drama unfolding over several years and taking in failure, death and a much less jocular take on relationship breakdown that is usual. Wodehouse touches on the long-term consequences of our influence on others, and casts an unusually critical eye at that monied and whimsical class of idler who so often decorate the pages of his books. Would such a character really be a comfortable husband? He allows the idler's flaws to manifest and have consequences that feel more genuinely corrosive and less farcical than usual, remaining at the same time sympathetic. The spontaneous matrimony common in other stories is also critically reviewed. That being said, the solution to their woes is typically simplistic and efficacious, and that jarred. The touches of humour were still there and recognisable, and some characters felt familiar, but it felt a significant departure from his usual work. Had I known in advance I might not have picked it for a bus journey, and I probably won't re-read it, but I'm glad I have read it.
    • 3/5
      This is a great book to read to kids. The book shows the sacrifices that people make for their kids everyday.
    • 5/5
      I loved this book! There were many little things in this book that made the story so meaningful. For example, in the beginning, the grandmother said that the black cat could not stay. However, Ada Ruth fed it warm milk and kept the cat by her side every day. I felt that this cat was a symbol of hope and comfort for the characters and readers. In my mind, if the cat had left or died, then the mother would have not come home. Secondly, the organization of the text and illustrations is pleasing. For example, all the dialogue is in italics, which is a bit easier to follow along than quotation marks that overwhelm the text. In addition, the illustrations display the cold home that always has the cat. This shows dedication to the mother and how much the cat warms the home and almost replaces the mother’s presence. Finally, I think this story is a good lesson on gender and displays how women only had opportunity when men were not easily available. “Just imagine, Ada Ruth. A colored woman working on the railroad.” Not only were women able to help the country for the greater good, colored women were allowed to make a difference.
    • 4/5
      Coming On Home Soon is about a little girl name Ada Ruth coping with missing her mother while she went off to work during the war. This book remind us all the sacrifices women have to go through at the time. We tend to honor the men risking their lives in the battlefield but we forget the women who also left their home and family to aid the war. This book also give a glimpse of what it was like for a girl longing for her mother who has to move far away for work to provide for the family. Wars never end over night, so these women must have left their families for a long period of time. Lucky for Ada Ruth, she has her grandmother to take care of her. She was Ada Ruth support system. Grandmother always reassures her that her mother will return home soon and safely. Sometimes people who have the least give the most. It was mentioned in the book that it took place during the war, when people didn't have enough to eat for themselves. Yet grandmother willing to let Ada take in a stray cat. She feed the cat bread and milk and keep it warm during the cold winter season.
    • 3/5
      I had mixed feelings about this book after reading it. I liked the book because I could feel the tone of the speaker when reading. For example, “ ‘You know we can’t keep it, Grandma says again.’ The kitten drinks the milk up, rubs against my leg like it wants some more. And Grandma says, ‘Don’t go getting attached now, Ada Ruth.’ ” Although it may sound like the Grandmother is saying this in an angry way, she is not. She is saying it in a stern but calm voice. Getting a sense of how each character speaks is what I really enjoyed about reading this book. But I didn’t like the way the illustrations were organized in the book. The illustrations were one side of the page while the text was on the opposite side. For example, on the left side was a blank white page with the text. On the right was the an entire illustration. I think that the book would have been better if the text overlapped the illustrations and not just a separate page. The illustrations were also very dark. The illustrator used lots of brown, black and dark blue in all the illustrations. Overall, the main message of this book is that with hope and patience’s, good things will come. This is shown when Ada and the grandmother wait for Ada’s mom to return home from working in Chicago. Ada’s mother was able to find a job and bring back for the family.
    • 4/5
      Coming On Home Soon is about a time when war is going on so women are needed for more jobs with the men being gone. Ada Ruth is a young girl who is having to take in the fact that her mom is going to have to go off to work on the railroads for a short time. As time passes she writes to her mom, but no letters in return. Ada Ruth gets worried, but her grandmother tells her "keep writing to her" and Adas response is " so I do." The snow is starting to come upon them and a little kitten is at their door and at first grandma did not want to keep it with the lack of food for themselves, but the kitten grows on her.
    • 4/5
      Coming on Home Soon follows a young girl who lives with her grandmother. Her mother leaves to go work on a railroad to earn money to send back. The girl misses her mother, but she finds a kitten to keep her company. She writes many letters to her mother, but does not get a reply. Finally, the mother writes back and sends money. She says she will be home soon much to the delight of the girl. This book gives a nice perspective of the sacrifice a family had to make during World War I even without having a soldier overseas. I think it gets overlooked how the people in America also had their lives changed.
    • 5/5
      Summary:In this book, an African American woman leaves her child at home with a grandmother in order to pursue work and send home money. The child waits and waits to hear from her mother while patiently raising a kitten, much to the dismay and then acceptance of her grandmother. Personal Reaction:I liked how this book was able to simplify what it meant to be in the struggle. How tough it was for the quiet life during war time. Classroom Extension:Maybe ask the class what they think they would do in a situation like the girl in the book experienced.
    • 4/5
      This book was really good at showing the hard time that people had to go through during a war, particularly World War II. The little girl was forced to move in with her grandma, they did not have much money or food and she was very lonely and this was a common occurrence during any war. Her mother was forced to go away to find work and even though she promised to write and send money, they do not hear from her for a long time but when they do she has given them some money and has told the girl that she will be home soon. Even though this is taking place during a war, many children would be able to relate to missing a part when they go away for a little, whether it is only for a night or for a month. I liked that this book gave the children a little hope at the end by showing the mother coming home. The illustrations throughout the story were very good too. They looked realistic for that time period and also captured the emotion that was being experienced in that scene in the book whether it was sadness, loneliness, or contentment. Overall, I thought that this was a great book that was illustrated and written perfectly and really got the emotion of the story to the reader.
    • 4/5
      Overall, I had mixed feelings about this book after reading it. I liked the book because I could really envision the tone of the speaker when reading. For example, “ ‘You know we can’t keep it, Grandma says again.’ The kitten drinks the milk up, rubs against my leg like it wants some more. And Grandma says, ‘Don’t go getting attached now, Ada Ruth.'” Although it may sound like the Grandmother is saying this in an angry way, she is not. She is saying it in a stern but calm voice out of care Getting a sense of how each character speaks is what I really enjoyed about reading this book. The characters are very believable and Ada's grandmother reminds me of my own! However, I didn't like the way the illustrations were organized in the book. The illustrations were one side of the page while the text was on the opposite side. For example, on the left side was a blank white page with the text. On the right was the an entire illustration. I think that the book would have been better if the text overlapped the illustrations and not just a separate page. The illustrations were also very dark. The illustrator used lots of brown, black and dark blue in all the illustrations. I think this was to convey a more upsetting and dark period of time to portray the sadness of the characters, but I would have liked to see more color. Overall, the main message of this book is that with hope and patience, good things will come. This is shown when Ada and the grandmother wait for Ada’s mom to return home from working in Chicago. Ada’s mother was able to find a job and bring back money to provide for the family.
    • 5/5
      Summary: The book starts off with a girl named Ada Ruth saying goodbye to her mom. The mom is telling her daughter to make money so Ruth can go back to where her mom is. Shortly after, her mom left and Ada Ruth was left with her Grandma. Ada Ruth said she was used to this because she had done it over 100 times before. The next morning, it was snowing and a black kitten began to scratch on the door. When petting the kitten, Ada Ruth begins to get sad and thinks back to her mom. Ada Ruth and the kitten stayed together over the next few weeks. Ada Ruth looks outside everyday for the postman waiting for a letter from her mom. It continues to snow and Ada Ruth's mom has still not returned. A few days later, Ada Ruth sees the postman coming. Finally she received a letter from her mom telling her that she was okay and that she was going to come home soon! Grammy and Ada Ruth sat by the far with their kitten and reread the letter over and over. They were so happy that mama was finally coming home.
    • 5/5
      This is an excellent book for families or children who have love ones in the military, It gives the families courage that your love one is away to make better life for them. The skills the students can learn are inference and problem-solving.
    • 5/5
      This picture book is about a young girl during the war. Her mother has to go away to find work, so the girl must stay with her grandmother. Everyday she waits for news from her mother.
    • 4/5
      This piece of historical fiction about a girl whose mother travels north to work at a railroad station during war time is definitely a picture book for a better group of readers, not because the text is difficult, but because it is a bit abstract at times. There is a lot of inferred plot that the reader will have to glean from the illustrations and fragmented sentences of the text. A younger, less-adept reader could read the words, but wouldn't understand their meaning.
    • 2/5
      A very un-Wodehouse like story. Quite serious, with a death, a marital split, child abuse and similar things. Not at all the "musical comedy without the music" that Wodehouse described his work as. The inevitable happy ending is cliché-ridden. Not enjoyable.
    • 4/5
      Having noted how the reviews for this work, along with the product synopsis, all stress that this is the closest P. G. Wodehouse came to writing a serious book, I suspected that this would be a weak offering. As it happens, it turned out to be one of the author’s strongest novels.Yes, there are numerous scenes of a serious nature, but they succeeded in adding worth to the story. Humour is still very much in evidence, making this a well-plotted tale, featuring some quality characters. The author’s depiction of the little boy is funny and fantastic!
    • 5/5
      Summary: One Sunday, Ada Ruth's mother tells her that she is leaving to work on the railroad. Because of the war, most men had to fight, so the women took the opportunity to do the men's jobs that were open in order to have money for the family. Ada and her grandmother await the day her mother comes home. Ada continues writing letters, and they even find a cat to keep them company. Finally, her mother writes them and tells them that she is coming home soon. Personal Reaction: This was a very heartwarming story. I found that it could relate to the town of Lawton, Oklahoma since many military families live there. Classroom Extension Ideas:A. An idea that a teacher could use this book for is during a lesson on a war. They could explain the hardships such as the lack of food, the families having to hunt their own, and parents either fighting or working laborous jobs.B. Another idea for this story is to read to a child whose family member was sent off due to military reasons. This book could comfort them and know that there are others that can relate to them.
    • 5/5
      Summary: This book is about a child whose mother goes to make money working on the railroad and her daighter talks about the wait of seeing her mother again. She lives with her grandmother and they talk about hunting for food, milking cows, and steaming letters open. Personal Reaction: In my opinion, this book was really enjoyable. I really liked how it puts life in a different perspective for kids now days because we dont have to go through all that the characters in this story did. Classroom Extension Ideas: 1. In the classroom, we can learn more about the war that was going on.2. In the classroom, we can learn about what people do while working on the railroads.
    • 3/5
      In Chicago they were hiring colored people when all the men was out fighting the war. It's the little girls mom that goes find work for money while her grandmother watches her. Anne-Ruth lets a pet cat in when its snowing outside. Her grandmother has her write letters to her mom, then soon the mailman comes up with a letter for Anne-Ruth with money inside the letter. She lets her know she'll be home soon.Person reactions: It was a well written book and the pictures were excellent. Like how it gives a life and details through a little girl on what happened through the wars. Life's are different now when our parents have to go to war, so it gives a good flashback. Classroom extensions: Maybe ask each student if they have a parent that is or were over seas. I'm on a blank on how else I could use this with all students.
    • 3/5
      Maybe 3.5 stars. While I enjoyed this early Wodehouse, it was more realistic satire than the zaniness I am used to in his more famous books! The tongue-in-cheek commentary about love versus money would make a great film I think (and Wodehouse did write some good Hollywood scripts).

      While I own this Kindle book, I actually listened to it via the Librivox recording.
    • 4/5
      Even though this book is fiction it seems as it could easily be non-fiction. The story displays a love between a mother and daughter who have been separated because her mother needed to go away to work to support her family. It is set during WWII and through the story and illustrations you can easily connect with the characters.
    • 4/5
      A young girl has to learn to deal with her mother being gone. Ada Ruth's mother goes to work on the railroad and Ada has to stay with her grandmother. Although Ada is very sad that her mother had to leave she understands why. Ada never gives up hope even when she receives no reply to her letters.
    • 3/5
      This is a story about a young girl whos mother was sent to work on the railroad during the war. She stays with her grandmother in the mean time while he mother is off working. There isnt a day that goes by that she doesnt think about her mother. She writes to her everyday and misses her deeply. She learns at the end of the story that her mother is doing what she is doing so that her and her daughter can live a better life.
    • 5/5
      Ada Ruth’s mother makes a huge sacrifice for her family; she leaves in search of a job. It’s WWII and all the men are at war, and their families are starving. This forces women to go out to find work. Ada Ruth’s mother decides her best hope of making enough money to support her daughter and her mother is to go to Chicago to work on the railroad. Ada Ruth struggles being away from her mother. It’s been months without hearing anything from her, and she’s beginning to get worried. However, she knows her mother loves her and is doing this to better her life. One day, the postman comes to their door with a letter from momma. In this letter, is the money that momma made and a promise to be home soon. The last page shows momma returning home to a family that loves her. Details: This book was written to interest children in grades K-3 and is on a 1.5 reading level.
    • 5/5
      Genre: Historical FictionReview: This is a story about girl who waits for her mom to come home from working in Chicago during the war. This is a historical fiction book, because black women were able to work during the war while men were off in the war. However, this story didn't actually happen, it is just a similar story of what could happen.Point of view: This story is told in first person, with the girl talking about how hard it was for herself to not have her mom at home. This was a good choice of point of view, because it allows you to relate better with the child during the story. Media: Watercolor on Arches paper
    • 4/5
      Summary:A colored woman was away looking for a job in Chicago. She had a daughter named Ada Ruth who stayed at home and was comforted by her grandmother as they missed her mother while she was away. Mama was gone for a very long time which meant she must have found a job and had to stay away in Chicago. They looked out everyday hoping to see the postman who would most likely be bringing a letter from her mother. Ada Ruth got attached to a stray kitten even though grandma told her they cannot keep him. As grandma noticed how happy the kitten made the daughter feel she decided that they can keep him. There was a war going on in Chicago and they were concerned about mama. The postman finally showed up one day with a mail from mama. She had mailed them money. One day mama finally came home.Personal ReactionAs I read this story, I noticed a few signs of humble beginnings. The characters in this story obviously did not have much money but they were content. An example was when they were served a simple meal from a wooden oven and it was the same meal for breakfast and supper. The paintings and pictures in this book along with the snow brings the story alive and creates a multicultural ambiance as it is bring read. I believe that this book a would definitely continue to appeal not only to children but also to all who wait in home for a loved one.ExtensionsThis book can be used with early readers to open their minds and understanding to different cultures and expose them to a glimpse of History and World War. Children can be asked to draw their favorite scene from the story and give it a title. This book can also be used as a comprehension tool by asking students questions about it such as where was the war going on and elicit and discuss possible reasons why they they had to wait for postman to bring letters before they heard from mama.
    • 4/5
      Summary:This is a story of Ada Ruth, who is a young African American girl who is waiting for her mother to come back home from working a job of cleaning trains in Chicago during World War II. Her grandma stays with her while her mother is gone and Ada Ruth misses her mother dearly. Eventually, even though it feels long to Ada Ruth, her mother gets to come back home and the mother and daughter is reunited again. Personal Reaction:I thought this book was cute though I totally hated that the mom didn’t write to her daughter except to tell her she was coming home soon! Since that little girl was so attached to her mom, it was hard for her to cope with her mom being gone – even though she had her grandmother there with her. I can relate in a way because I super close to my grandma. She basically raised me until I had to start kindergarten and I hated that I had to leave her and go live with my parents again when I started school. But I was still able to talk to her on the phone and she came and visited me a lot. Overall, I think this story is something that any kid can relate to because everyone has felt some sort of separation between them and someone they love.Extension Ideas:1) Have the class write a letter pretending to be Ada Ruth of something that she would mail to her mom while her mom was away.2) Have the class write in their daily journal about a time they have been separated from someone they loved and they wanted them to come back to them.
    • 4/5
      Summary: This story is about a young girl named Ada Ruth and her mother. Her mother has to explain to Ada Ruth that the railroad is hiring colored women because all the men are off at war. She explains to her that she'll be leaving for awhile and will send a letter and money soon to her and her grandmother. Ada Ruth looks out the window every afternoon waiting on the letter from her mother. One day it finally comes and her mother writes that she will be coming on home soon.Personal Reaction: This story reminds me a little of me because I hardly ever get mail but I get really excited when I do get mail. It must have been hard for Ada Ruth while her mother was gone, I couldn't even imagine my mother leaving me.Classroom Extensions:1. This book would be a great way to discuss the postal service and how mail used to work. Without email and cell phones.2. This book would be great for a history lesson about the war and gender identity.

    Book preview

    The Coming of Bill - P.G. Wodehouse

    A PAWN OF FATE

    Mrs. Lora Delane Porter dismissed the hireling who had brought her automobile around from the garage and seated herself at the wheel. It was her habit to refresh her mind and improve her health by a daily drive between the hours of two and four in the afternoon.

    The world knows little of its greatest women, and it is possible that Mrs. Porter’s name is not familiar to you. If this is the case, I am pained, but not surprised. It happens only too often that the uplifter of the public mind is baulked by a disinclination on the part of the public mind to meet him or her half-way. The uplifter does his share. He produces the uplifting book. But the public, instead of standing still to be uplifted, wanders off to browse on coloured supplements and magazine stories.

    If you are ignorant of Lora Delane Porter’s books that is your affair. Perhaps you are more to be pitied than censured. Nature probably gave you the wrong shape of forehead. Mrs. Porter herself would have put it down to some atavistic tendency or pre-natal influence. She put most things down to that. She blamed nearly all the defects of the modern world, from weak intellects to in-growing toe-nails, on long-dead ladies and gentlemen who, safe in the family vault, imagined that they had established their alibi. She subpoenaed grandfathers and even great-grandfathers to give evidence to show that the reason Twentieth-Century Willie squinted or had to spend his winters in Arizona was their own shocking health ‘way back in the days beyond recall.

    Mrs. Porter’s mind worked backward and forward. She had one eye on the past, the other on the future. If she was strong on heredity, she was stronger on the future of the race. Most of her published works dealt with this subject. A careful perusal of them would have enabled the rising generation to select its ideal wife or husband with perfect ease, and, in the event of Heaven blessing the union, her little volume, entitled The Hygienic Care of the Baby, which was all about germs and how to avoid them, would have insured the continuance of the direct succession.

    Unfortunately, the rising generation did not seem disposed to a careful perusal of anything except the baseball scores and the beauty hints in the Sunday papers, and Mrs. Porter’s public was small. In fact, her only real disciple, as she sometimes told herself in her rare moods of discouragement, was her niece, Ruth Bannister, daughter of John Bannister, the millionaire. It was not so long ago, she reflected with pride, that she had induced Ruth to refuse to marry Basil Milbank–a considerable feat, he being a young man of remarkable personal attractions and a great match in every way. Mrs. Porter’s objection to him was that his father had died believing to the last that he was a teapot.

    There is nothing evil or degrading in believing oneself a teapot, but it argues a certain inaccuracy of the thought processes; and Mrs. Porter had used all her influence with Ruth to make her reject Basil. It was her success that first showed her how great that influence was. She had come now to look on Ruth’s destiny as something for which she was personally responsible–a fact which was noted and resented by others, in particular Ruth’s brother Bailey, who regarded his aunt with a dislike and suspicion akin to that which a stray dog feels towards the boy who saunters towards him with a tin can in his hand.

    To Bailey, his strong-minded relative was a perpetual menace, a sort of perambulating yellow peril, and the fact that she often alluded to him as a worm consolidated his distaste for her.

    Mrs. Porter released the clutch and set out on her drive. She rarely had a settled route for these outings of hers, preferring to zigzag about New York, livening up the great city at random. She always drove herself and, having, like a good suffragist, a contempt for male prohibitions, took an honest pleasure in exceeding a man-made speed limit.

    One hesitates to apply the term joy-rider to so eminent a leader of contemporary thought as the authoress of The Dawn of Better Things, Principles of Selection, and What of To-morrow? but candour compels the admission that she was a somewhat reckless driver. Perhaps it was due to some atavistic tendency. One of her ancestors may have been a Roman charioteer or a coach-racing maniac of the Regency days. At any rate, after a hard morning’s work on her new book she felt that her mind needed cooling, and found that the rush of air against her face effected this satisfactorily. The greater the rush, the quicker the cooling. However, as the alert inhabitants of Manhattan Island, a hardy race trained from infancy to dodge taxicabs and ambulance wagons, had always removed themselves from her path with their usual agility, she had never yet had an accident.

    But then she had never yet met George Pennicut. And George, pawn of fate, was even now waiting round the corner to upset her record.

    George, man of all work to Kirk Winfield, one of the youngest and least efficient of New York’s artist colony, was English. He had been in America some little time, but not long enough to accustom his rather unreceptive mind to the fact that, whereas in his native land vehicles kept to the left, in the country of his adoption they kept to the right; and it was still his bone-headed practice, when stepping off the sidewalk, to keep a wary look-out in precisely the wrong direction.

    The only problem with regard to such a man is who will get him first. Fate had decided that it should be Lora Delane Porter.

    To-day Mrs. Porter, having circled the park in rapid time, turned her car down Central Park West. She was feeling much refreshed by the pleasant air. She was conscious of a glow of benevolence toward her species, not excluding even the young couple she had almost reduced to mincemeat in the neighbourhood of Ninety-Seventh Street. They had annoyed her extremely at the time of their meeting by occupying till the last possible moment a part of the road which she wanted herself.

    On reaching Sixty-First Street she found her way blocked by a lumbering delivery wagon. She followed it slowly for a while; then, growing tired of being merely a unit in a procession, tugged at the steering-wheel, and turned to the right.

    George Pennicut, his anxious eyes raking the middle distance–as usual, in the wrong direction–had just stepped off the kerb. He received the automobile in the small of the back, uttered a yell of surprise and dismay, performed a few improvised Texas Tommy steps, and fell in a heap.

    In a situation which might have stimulated another to fervid speech, George Pennicut contented himself with saying Goo! He was a man of few words.

    Mrs. Porter stopped the car. From all points of the compass citizens began to assemble, many swallowing their chewing-gum in their excitement. One, a devout believer in the inscrutable ways of Providence, told a friend as he ran that only two minutes before he had almost robbed himself of this spectacle by going into a moving-picture palace.

    Mrs. Porter was annoyed. She had never run over anything before except a few chickens, and she regarded the incident as a blot on her escutcheon. She was incensed with this idiot who had flung himself before her car, not reflecting in her heat that he probably had a pre-natal tendency to this sort of thing inherited from some ancestor who had played last across in front of hansom cabs in the streets of London.

    She bent over George and passed experienced hands over his portly form. For this remarkable woman was as competent at first aid as at anything else. The citizens gathered silently round in a circle.

    It was your fault, she said to her victim severely. I accept no liability whatever. I did not run into you. You ran into me. I have a jolly good mind to have you arrested for attempted suicide.

    This aspect of the affair had not struck Mr. Pennicut. Presented to him in these simple words, it checked the recriminatory speech which, his mind having recovered to some extent from the first shock of the meeting, he had intended to deliver. He swallowed his words, awed. He felt dazed and helpless. Mrs. Porter had that effect upon men.

    Some more citizens arrived.

    No bones broken, reported Mrs. Porter, concluding her examination. You are exceedingly fortunate. You have a few bruises, and one knee is slightly wrenched. Nothing to signify. More frightened than hurt. Where do you live?

    There, said George meekly.

    Where?

    Them studios.

    No. 90?

    Yes, ma’am. George’s voice was that of a crushed worm.

    Are you an artist?

    No, ma’am. I’m Mr. Winfield’s man.

    Whose?

    Mr. Winfield’s, ma’am.

    Is he in?

    Yes, ma’am.

    I’ll fetch him. And if the policeman comes along and wants to know why you’re lying there, mind you tell him the truth, that you ran into me.

    Yes, ma’am.

    Very well. Don’t forget.

    No, ma’am.

    She crossed the street and rang the bell over which was a card hearing the name of Kirk Winfield. Mr. Pennicut watched her in silence.

    Mrs. Porter pressed the button a second time. Somebody came at a leisurely pace down the passage, whistling cheerfully. The door opened.

    It did not often happen to Lora Delane Porter to feel insignificant, least of all in the presence of the opposite sex. She had well-defined views upon man. Yet, in the interval which elapsed between the opening of the door and her first words, a certain sensation of smallness overcame her.

    The man who had opened the door was not, judged by any standard of regularity of features, handsome. He had a rather boyish face, pleasant eyes set wide apart, and a friendly mouth. He was rather an outsize in young men, and as he stood there he seemed to fill the doorway.

    It was this sense of bigness that he conveyed, his cleanness, his magnificent fitness, that for the moment overcame Mrs. Porter. Physical fitness was her gospel. She stared at him in silent appreciation.

    To the young man, however, her forceful gaze did not convey this quality. She seemed to him to be looking as if she had caught him in the act of endeavouring to snatch her purse. He had been thrown a little off his balance by the encounter.

    Resource in moments of crisis is largely a matter of preparedness, and a man, who, having opened his door in the expectation of seeing a ginger-haired, bow-legged, grinning George Pennicut, is confronted by a masterful woman with eyes like gimlets, may be excused for not guessing that her piercing stare is an expression of admiration and respect.

    Mrs. Porter broke the silence. It was ever her way to come swiftly to the matter in hand.

    Mr. Kirk Winfield?

    Yes.

    Have you in your employment a red-haired, congenital idiot who ambles about New York in an absent-minded way, as if he were on a desert island? The man I refer to is a short, stout Englishman, clean-shaven, dressed in black.

    That sounds like George Pennicut.

    I have no doubt that that is his name. I did not inquire. It did not interest me. My name is Mrs. Lora Delane Porter. This man of yours has just run into my automobile.

    I beg your pardon?

    I cannot put it more lucidly. I was driving along the street when this weak-minded person flung himself in front of my car. He is out there now. Kindly come and help him in.

    Is he hurt?

    More frightened than hurt. I have examined him. His left knee appears to be slightly wrenched.

    Kirk Winfield passed a hand over his left forehead and followed her. Like George, he found Mrs. Porter a trifle overwhelming.

    Out in the street George Pennicut, now the centre of quite a substantial section of the Four Million, was causing a granite-faced policeman to think that the age of miracles had returned by informing him that the accident had been his fault and no other’s. He greeted the relief-party with a wan grin.

    Just broke my leg, sir, he announced to Kirk.

    You have done nothing of the sort, said Mrs. Porter. You have wrenched your knee very slightly. Have you explained to the policeman that it was entirely your fault?

    Yes, ma’am.

    That’s right. Always speak the truth.

    Yes, ma’am.

    Mr. Winfield will help you indoors.

    Thank you, ma’am.

    She turned to Kirk.

    Now, Mr. Winfield.

    Kirk bent over the victim, gripped him, and lifted him like a baby.

    He’s got his, observed one interested spectator.

    I should worry! agreed another. All broken up.

    Nothing of the kind, said Mrs. Porter severely. The man is hardly hurt at all. Be more accurate in your remarks.

    She eyed the speaker sternly. He wilted.

    Yes, ma’am, he mumbled sheepishly.

    The policeman, with that lionlike courage which makes the New York constabulary what it is, endeavoured to assert himself at this point.

    Hey! he boomed.

    Mrs. Porter turned her gaze upon him, her cold, steely gaze.

    I beg your pardon?

    This won’t do, ma’am. I’ve me report to make. How did this happen?

    You have already been informed. The man ran into my automobile.

    But–

    I shall not charge him.

    She turned and followed Kirk.

    But, say– The policeman’s voice was now almost plaintive.

    Mrs. Porter ignored him and disappeared into the house. The policeman, having gulped several times in a disconsolate way, relieved his feelings by dispersing the crowd with well-directed prods of his locust stick. A small boy who lingered, squeezing the automobile’s hooter, in a sort of trance he kicked. The boy vanished. The crowd melted. The policeman walked slowly toward Ninth Avenue. Peace reigned in the street.

    Put him to bed, said Mrs. Porter, as Kirk laid his burden on a couch in the studio. You seem exceedingly muscular, Mr. Winfield. I noticed that you carried him without an effort. He is a stout man, too. Grossly out of condition, like ninety-nine per cent of men to-day.

    I’m not so young as I was, ma’am, protested George. When I was in the harmy I was a fine figure of a man.

    The more shame to you that you have allowed yourself to deteriorate, commented Mrs. Porter. Beer?

    A grateful smile irradiated George’s face.

    Thank you, ma’am. It’s very kind of you, ma’am. I don’t mind if I do.

    The man appears a perfect imbecile, said Mrs. Porter, turning abruptly to Kirk. I ask him if he attributes his physical decay to beer and he babbles.

    I think he thought you were offering him a drink, suggested Kirk. As a matter of fact, a little brandy wouldn’t hurt him, after the shock he has had.

    On no account. The worst thing possible.

    This isn’t your lucky day, George, said Kirk. Well, I guess I’ll phone to the doctor.

    Quite unnecessary.

    I beg your pardon?

    Entirely unnecessary. I have made an examination. There is practically nothing the matter with the man. Put him to bed, and let him sponge his knee with warm water.

    Are you a doctor, Mrs. Porter?

    I have studied first aid.

    Well, I think, if you don’t mind, I should like to have your opinion confirmed.

    This was rank mutiny. Mrs. Porter stared haughtily at Kirk. He met her gaze with determination.

    As you please, she snapped.

    Thank you, said Kirk. I don’t want to take any risks with George. I couldn’t afford to lose him. There aren’t any more like him: they’ve mislaid the pattern.

    He went to the telephone.

    Mrs. Porter watched him narrowly. She was more than ever impressed by the perfection of his physique. She appraised his voice as he spoke to the doctor. It gave evidence of excellent lungs. He was a wonderfully perfect physical specimen.

    An idea concerning this young man came into her mind, startling as all great ideas are at birth. The older it grew, the more she approved of it. She decided to put a few questions to him. She had a habit of questioning people, and it never occurred to her that they might resent it. If it had occurred to her, she would have done it just the same. She was like that.

    Mr. Winfield?

    Yes?

    I should like to ask you a few questions.

    This woman delighted Kirk.

    Please do, he said.

    Mrs. Porter scanned him closely.

    You are an extraordinarily healthy man, to all appearances. Have you ever suffered from bad health?

    Measles.

    Immaterial.

    Very unpleasant, though.

    Nothing else?

    Mumps.

    Unimportant.

    Not to me. I looked like a water-melon.

    Nothing besides? No serious illnesses?

    None.

    What is your age?

    Twenty-five.

    Are your parents living?

    No.

    Were they healthy?

    Fit as fiddles.

    And your grandparents?

    Perfect bear-cats. I remember my grandfather at the age of about a hundred or something like that spanking me for breaking his pipe. I thought it was a steam-hammer. He was a wonderfully muscular old gentleman.

    Excellent.

    By the way, said Kirk casually, "my life is insured."

    Very sensible. There has been no serious illness in your family at all, then, as far as you know?

    I could hunt up the records, if you like; but I don’t think so.

    Consumption? No? Cancer? No? As far as you are aware, nothing? Very satisfactory.

    I’m glad you’re pleased.

    Are you married?

    Good Lord, no!

    At your age you should be. With your magnificent physique and remarkable record of health, it is your duty to the future of the race to marry.

    I’m not sure I’ve been worrying much about the future of the race.

    No man does. It is the crying evil of the day, men’s selfish absorption in the present, their utter lack of a sense of duty with regard to the future. Have you read my ‘Dawn of Better Things’?

    I’m afraid I read very few novels.

    It is not a novel. It is a treatise on the need for implanting a sense of personal duty to the future of the race in the modern young man.

    It sounds a crackerjack. I must get it.

    I will send you a copy. At the same time I will send you my ‘Principles of Selection’ and ‘What of To-morrow?’ They will make you think.

    I bet they will. Thank you very much.

    And now, said Mrs. Porter, switching the conversation to the gaping George, you had better put this man to bed.

    George Pennicut’s opinion of Mrs. Porter, to which he was destined to adhere on closer acquaintance, may be recorded.

    A hawful woman, sir, he whispered as Kirk bore him off.

    Nonsense, George, said Kirk. One of the most entertaining ladies I have ever met. Already I love her like a son. But how she escaped from Bloomingdale beats me. There’s been carelessness somewhere.

    The bedrooms attached to the studio opened off the gallery that ran the length of the east wall. Looking over the edge of the gallery before coming downstairs Kirk perceived his visitor engaged in a tour of the studio. At that moment she was examining his masterpiece, Ariadne in Naxos. He had called it that because that was what it had turned into.

    At the beginning he had had no definite opinion as to its identity. It was rather a habit with his pictures to start out in a vague spirit of adventure and receive their label on completion. He had an airy and a dashing way in his dealings with the goddess Art.

    Nevertheless, he had sufficient of the artist soul to resent the fact that Mrs. Porter was standing a great deal too close to the masterpiece to get its full value.

    You want to stand back a little, he suggested over the rail.

    Mrs. Porter looked up.

    Oh, there you are! she said.

    Yes, here I am, agreed Kirk affably.

    Is this yours?

    It is.

    You painted it?

    I did.

    It is poor. It shows a certain feeling for colour, but the drawing is weak, said Mrs. Porter. For this wonderful woman was as competent at art criticism as at automobile driving and first aid. Where did you study?

    In Paris, if you could call it studying. I’m afraid I was not the model pupil.

    Kindly come down. You are giving me a crick in the neck.

    Kirk descended. He found Mrs. Porter still regarding the masterpiece with an unfavourable eye.

    Yes, she said, the drawing is decidedly weak.

    I shouldn’t wonder, assented Kirk. The dealers to whom I’ve tried to sell it have not said that in so many words, but they’ve all begged me with tears in their eyes to take the darned thing away, so I guess you’re right.

    Do you depend for a living on the sale of your pictures?

    Thank Heaven, no. I’m the only artist in captivity with a private income.

    A large income?

    ’Tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church door, but ‘tis enough, ‘twill serve. All told, about five thousand iron men per annum.

    Iron men?

    Bones.

    Bones?

    I should have said dollars.

    You should. I detest slang.

    Sorry, said Kirk.

    Mrs. Porter resumed her tour of the studio. She was interrupted by the arrival of the doctor, a cheerful little old man with the bearing of one sure of his welcome. He was an old friend of Kirk’s.

    "Well, what’s the trouble? I couldn’t come sooner. I was visiting a case. I work."

    There is no trouble, said Mrs. Porter. The doctor spun round, startled. In the dimness of the studio he had not perceived her. Mr. Winfield’s servant has injured his knee very superficially. There is practically nothing wrong with him. I have made a thorough examination.

    The doctor looked from one to the other.

    Is the case in other hands? he asked.

    You bet it isn’t, said Kirk. Mrs. Porter just looked in for a family chat and a glimpse of my pictures. You’ll find George in bed, first floor on the left upstairs, and a very remarkable sight he is. He is wearing red hair with purple pyjamas. Why go abroad when you have not yet seen the wonders of your native land?

    That night Lora Delane Porter wrote in the diary which, with that magnificent freedom from human weakness that marked every aspect of her life, she kept all the year round instead of only during the first week in January.

    This is what she wrote:

    Worked steadily on my book. It progresses. In the afternoon an annoying occurrence. An imbecile with red hair placed himself in front of my automobile, fortunately without serious injury to the machine–though the sudden application of the brake cannot be good for the tyres. Out of evil, however, came good, for I have made the acquaintance of his employer, a Mr. Winfield, an artist. Mr. Winfield is a man of remarkable physique. I questioned him narrowly, and he appears thoroughly sound. As to his mental attainments, I cannot speak so highly; but all men are fools, and Mr. Winfield is not more so than most. I have decided that he shall marry my dear Ruth. They will make a magnificent pair.

    RUTH STATES HER INTENTIONS

    At about the time when Lora Delane Porter was cross-examining Kirk Winfield, Bailey Bannister left his club hurriedly.

    Inside the club a sad, rabbit-faced young gentleman, who had been unburdening his soul to Bailey, was seeking further consolation in an amber drink with a cherry at the bottom of it. For this young man was one of nature’s cherry-chasers. It was the only thing he did really well. His name was Grayling, his height five feet three, his socks pink, and his income enormous.

    So much for Grayling. He is of absolutely no importance, either to the world or to this narrative, except in so far that the painful story he has been unfolding to Bailey Bannister has so wrought upon that exquisite as to send him galloping up Fifth Avenue at five miles an hour in search of his sister Ruth.

    Let us now examine Bailey. He is a faultlessly dressed young man of about twenty-seven, who takes it as a compliment when people think him older. His mouth, at present gaping with agitation and the unwonted exercise, is, as a rule, primly closed. His eyes, peering through gold-rimmed glasses, protrude slightly, giving him something of the dumb pathos of a codfish.

    His hair is pale and scanty, his nose sharp and narrow. He is a junior partner in the firm of Bannister & Son, and it is his unalterable conviction that, if his father would only give him a chance, he could show Wall Street some high finance that would astonish it.

    The afternoon was warm. The sun beat down on the avenue. Bailey had not gone two blocks before it occurred to him that swifter and more comfortable progress could be made in a taxicab than on his admirably trousered legs. No more significant proof of the magnitude of his agitation could be brought forward

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