PART THIRD

THE MANHOOD OF PAUL GRANGER

There is but one good which is the cause and foundation of a happy life-to trust a man's self."

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-SENECA

The ideal of womanhood lies neither in the fair saint, nor in the fair sinner; . . . the female type of character is neither better nor worse than the male, but only weaker; women are meant neither to be men's guides nor their playthings, but their comrades."

-HUXLEY, Lay Sermons

CHAPTER 32

A FRIEND OF WOMAN

"COME in, Ossie," called out big, jolly Ralph Henson; "we were just speaking of your pronounced views about the place of woman in the economy of nature."

Half a dozen young men, among them Granger and Craig, had happened to come together in one of the University lecture rooms during an unoccupied hour, and were lounging about and giving themselves up to good-natured banter and story-telling, when Ossie Waver opened the door and peeped in. Ossie was known to every body in the rooma perennial subfreshman, a dapper little fellow who would weigh, when in good flesh, close upon 112 pounds. He had a sweet, girlish face, a girlish voice, soft, kittenish manners, and a faint little mustache in a state of chronic incipiency. Ossie's general appearance suggested the theory that nature had been undecided whether to make a girl or a boy out of him, and had hesitated so long that there was not time left to make a fair specimen of either. Ossie was gallantly devoted to the ladies. If he was even moderately devoted to anything else-except his mustache and cigarettes-he was eminently successful in concealing the fact.

"Yas," responded Ossie, eagerly launching upon his favorite theme, "Chave vewy pwonounced opinions on the gweat subject of woman and heh pwopeh spheah. Woman is natuahly weak, infewioh to man in stwength and couhwage. She is not constwucted foh self-suppoht and self-pwotection. To man's stwong ahm and stout heaht belongs the tendeh and noble duty of pwotecting heh and pwoviding foh heh wants. And how disagweeable-I may say how distwessingly wepulsive-it is to see a woman lay aside heh sweet, clinging natuh and assume the wole that natuahly belongs to the stwong sex. Bah Jove, it's a sight to make the gods weep!"

And Ossie stopped abruptly, overcome by his feelings and the dropping of his eyeglasses. "Bravo, bravo, Ossie! exclaimed Henson. "Lofty sentiments superbly expressed! Why, man, I didn't know you could be so eloquent."

"Thanks, Walph," replied Ossie modestly. "I don't pwetend to be much of a speakeh, but this is a topic that might make any man eloquent. It both gwieves and angehs me when I see a woman come down fwom heh high estate and twy to compete with heh stwong bwother-I might say twy to unsex hehself-instead of being satisfied to gwace the lot to which God assigned heh. I wouldn't mahwy such a woman foh a million dollahs!

Good, good!" cried Henson. "Right again, Ossie, right again. I wouldn't either, Ossie, if I were you-nor for a billion dollars. What's wealth, or fame, or social rank, beside the sole and undisputed proprietorship of a dear, sweet, soft, clinging, fearsome little bit of femininity that loves you like all possessed and knows you are the only man in the whole wide world worth loving! And ah, how delicious it must be to take her in your strong protecting arms and calm her troubled soul when she is trembling on the verge of hysterics at the sight of a snake or an angleworm! Ah, Ossie, that's bliss! May such a fate be yours, my boy; you deserve it, all of it—and more."

Ossie really appeared to be a trifle doubtful of Henson's sincerity in all this; but when he glanced around at the sober faces about him, he seemed unable to tell just where, if at all, the sincerity ended.

And of course you don't believe in co-education?" continued Henson.

"No, my deah Walph; I am unalteahbly opposed to coeducation—that is, foh men and women; of couhse it's all wight foh boys and guhls. I have detehmined iwevocably nevah to mahwy a co-ed-nevah! nevah!"

"That's right, Ossie," said Ralph, encouragingly; "that's the way I like to hear a man speak out. Yes, it must be awkward and disagreeable in the extreme for a full-grown man to have to sit by and hear his wife discourse learnedly of something that he dosen't know anything about."

Yas, co-eds get to be so masculine, you know-so abominably independent and self-weliant. A woman shouldn't be self-weliant. It's not only unwomanly but it's positively

iweligious; foh you know St. Paul says, if a woman wants to leahn anything let heh ask heh husband at home."

"And that's a clincher, Ossie. When a man can quote Scripture, why, that's the end of it."

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'Yas, of couhse; a fellow can't go back on Scwiptuh, you know.”

"But, I say, Ossie, you must have some original and valuable ideas about babies, too. The two subjectsbabies and women-are very closely related, you know."

"No, Walph, I can't say that I know much about babies. I don't like babies, you know; in fact, I detest them. They dwive me distwacted, they cwy so pehsistently and unweasonably, you know. Last summeh I visited my sisteh foh a week. She has an infant. It was five oh six weeks oldoh five oh six months, I fohget which. All though my visit that child displayed the utmost diswegahd foh my feelings and comfoht, especially at night. One day I undehtook to take cahah of it foh a quahteh of an houeh. Pwesently it pulled my collah askew, and I laid it—the baby-down on a chaiah while I adjusted it-the collah. And, 'pon my honoh, the little wascal pwomptly wolled off on the flooah. I picked him up wight away, but he set up a twemendous howl that woused the entieh household. Deuced fine joke on me―te, he, he!—but I nevah told my sisteh what caused the wacket.'

Ossie's joke offered an opportunity for relief that his hearers were not slow to avail themselves of.

"Yes, that was funny enough," said Henson when the laughter had subsided. "You see, Ossie, I know something about babies. I have had cause to think about them a good deal, and sometimes very vigorously. I've got six younger brothers and no sister, so I've had to be the big girl of the family. The chief trouble, Ossie, is that the baby enters upon its individual career in such a rare, underdone condition. Now, if some fellow with a genius for such things would just contrive a plan for starting the baby off at the outset able to talk a little, walk a little, eat with a spoon, and wear under-garments of a somewhat more elaborate pattern than a square piece of cloth with a hem, it would save their fathers and big brothers no end of wear and tear and swear. Of course it doesn't make any difference about the mothers and sisters: mothering and 'tending babies is what women were made for. Did you ever think about all this, Ossie?