Part 3 (2/2)
”Hurrah,” cried Rollo, bounding into the room, ”may I join you?”
They were playing pillows-and-keys.
ROLLO'S EVENING WITH UNCLE GEORGE
IN WHICH OUR HERO UNDER THE TUTELAGE OF AN EXPERT, BECOMES A BOY-ABOUT-TOWN
One cool morning in the early autumn, Rollo was sitting on the red velvet ha.s.sock which his mother had given him for his birthday, his chin resting on the sill of the window which faced toward Park Avenue.
Below was a pleasant picture of green s.p.a.ces and cheerful nursemaids attentively watching the tall constable on the corner, while their little charges darted nimbly amid the pa.s.sing automobiles whose black tops glittered like the backs of large beetles. This was a scene which Rollo had often contemplated with much satisfaction, but to-day he found no pleasure in it whatsoever. Suddenly he heard a light step behind him and turning perceived that Jonas had entered the room, silently, as was his custom.
”Jonas,” said Rollo, crossly, ”I wish you would not steal up behind me as you do. Since we have moved to the city and you have become my mother's social secretary, instead of the hired man, you wear shoes which do not warn me of your approach by their squeaking. It is not right to spy so.”
Now this was very rude of Rollo, and it may be plainly seen that he was in an ill-humour, but Jonas only smiled pleasantly, which made Rollo more angry than ever.
”You are mistaken, Rollo,” said Jonas. ”I was not spying upon you. In fact, quite the contrary, it was expressly to see you and deliver a message that I came into the room.”
”A message!” cried Rollo, ”and from whom, pray?”
”From your Uncle George,” answered Jonas. ”He wishes to know if you could dine with him to-night and go to the theatre.”
Rollo's face lighted up with pleasure, but he replied seriously, ”To-night? Let me see; to-day is Thursday, is it not? I do not think I have any engagement for this evening.”
Of course Rollo knew very well that he had no engagement, but he had learned that in the city it was not considered polite to accept any invitation without a certain amount of hesitation. When Jonas had left the room, however, Rollo leaped about with many a caper, and shouted ”Hurray!” to himself. He no longer felt gloomy and contrary, but was quite satisfied with the world which had looked so dark to him a few moments before. At exactly seven o'clock in the evening, Rollo was ready and waiting, dressed in his best suit with a new tie which his father had purchased for ten cents from a peddler in the lower part of the city. Rollo's father once said to him, ”My son, buy everything you can from a cart. You get more for your penny.”
Uncle George came promptly as he had promised and Rollo drove off with him gaily in a bright yellow taxicab. Rollo's uncle has not lately been mentioned in these stories. He was a younger brother of Rollo's mother, and Rollo liked him very much, partly because he was always gay and light-hearted, and partly because his father did not seem to approve of Uncle George. Rollo's father frowned very severely when he saw the yellow taxicab, but since he was not paying for it he said nothing.
”I am going to take you to my club,” said Uncle George.
”A club!” cried Rollo. ”What is that?”
”I will tell you,” said Uncle George. ”A club is a place of refuge from one's family. It is an organization where a man can order what he likes for dinner, when he likes. It is a place where he can be sure that his letters will not be opened by mistake.”
[Ill.u.s.tration: ”Rollo never dreamed that ladies could be so beautiful”]
”Could my mother belong to this club?” asked Rollo.
”No; only gentlemen are admitted.”
”But could my father join such an organization?”
”No, not the club I have in mind. I do not think even your father could become a member.”
”What a delightful place!” said Rollo.
”Indeed it is so,” said his uncle. ”But here we are.”
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