The Man in Lonely Land | Page 4

hope Decker can find her, but I doubt it. Maybe she can
manage by herself. Anyway, I've done all I could. Good night, and
please don't let the children eat too much of a mixture. You'll come and
see Claudia, won't you?"
Laine shook his head. "I haven't time."
"Time! Of all nonsense!" She turned and kissed him. "The children will
have you at dinner, anyhow, and that's why I sent for you. Good night,
mean man!"
She gathered up her skirts, and Laine, following her to the door, at
which the second man stood waiting to throw a roll of carpet down the
snow-sprinkled steps to the car at the curb, watched it until the corner
was turned, then walked toward the dining-room, where two young
people threw two pair of arms around his legs and rent the air with two
ecstatic shrieks.
"There's turkey and giblet gravy and salad and loads of things, Uncle
Winthrop, and I am going to sit at the head of the table, and Timkins
says I may pour the coffee for you in the library, and--"
"Mother said I could have some ice-cream and two pieces of cake if
they weren't very big." And Channing Warrick, Junior, aged seven,
made effort to remove Dorothea Warrick, aged ten, from her point of
vantage next her uncle's right hand. But breath was lost in the high toss
given him by the strong arms which had sent him in the air, and as he

landed on his feet he laughed in gasping delight.
"Come on." Dorothea's voice was eager. "It's ready, and so am I, and at
eight we've got to be in bed."

III
SCIENTIFICS
As he took his seat at the perfectly appointed table, Mr. Winthrop Laine
nodded at first one child and then the other. "What very piggy relations
I have," he said, opening his napkin. "Not a word of greeting to an
ancient uncle, but just an announcement of what there is to eat. One
would think you were starving."
"We are." Dorothea laid down her napkin and got up. "Excuse me for
leaving my seat, but mother 'said we could have a good time to-night,
and we can't if we're particular about manners. I hate manners. I guess I
get it from you, Uncle Winthrop. I heard Miss Robin French say you
didn't have any. She said she'd invited you to her house a dozen times,
and you'd never been once, or made a party call or anything."
"What's a party call?" Channing's mouth was full of soup. "What's a
party call, Uncle Winthrop?"
"It's the penalty one has to pay for being invited where one doesn't want
to go. What were you saying, Dorothea?"
"I've forgotten. Channing is just as rude as if he were somebody! Oh
yes--I started to say I'm sorry we were piggy about mentioning the food
first. We've been crazy to see you. We had something to tell you. I
think I'll sit down here right by you; it's too far off behind those flowers,
and I'll kiss you now if you don't mind." And Dorothea's arms were
around her uncle's neck and her cheek was laid lovingly to his.
"Of course." Laine unfastened the arms, drew the child's head down,
kissed her, and patted the little hands before sending their owner to her
seat. "Being the beginning of a woman you kiss and make up, which is
more than your heathen brother does. Not another one!" The dish of
almonds was withdrawn from Channing's reach. "Let me see your
hands, sir! And you a member of polite society! Ah, here's the turkey.
And it's the drumstick you said you wanted, did you, Channing?
Drumsticks were put on turkeys just for little boys. I always got the
drumstick and the gizzard."
"I don't want any drumsticks!" Channing's lips quivered. "I want--"

"And he can't have the gizzard, Uncle Winthrop, really he can't. Maybe
you don't know about Fletcherizing, and you ought to be thankful you
don't, but you can't Fletcherize a gizzard, not if you chew all night, and
if there's breast enough for everybody, I think he'd better have that. And
I'll take plenty of gravy, please, and stuffing, if there's oysters in it.
Wait a minute!" Dorothea's hand went up and her head went down. "I'd
like to say grace: 'I thank Thee, Lord, for this sure-enough food and for
Uncle Winthrop being here, and please let it happen again and don't let
it make us sick. Amen.'"
Through the grace Channing's fork had been suspended, but his jaws
had not stopped work; and at the last word he leaned forward and made
a dive for the olives, two of which he put in his mouth at once.
To the man at the foot of