Babbit by Sinclair Lewis Page B

a nice expensive
vacation in New York and Atlantic City, with the bright lights and
the bootlegged cocktails and a bunch of lounge-lizards to dance
with - but the Babbitts and the Rieslings are sure-enough going to
Lake Sunasquam, aren't we? Why couldn't you and I make some excuse
- say business in New York - and get up to Maine four or five days
before they do, and just loaf by ourselves and smoke and cuss and
be natural?"
      "Great! Great idea!" Babbitt admired.
      Not for fourteen years had he taken a holiday
without his wife, and neither of them quite believed they could
commit this audacity. Many members of the Athletic Club did go
camping without their wives, but they were officially dedicated to
fishing and hunting, whereas the sacred and unchangeable sports of
Babbitt and Paul Riesling were golfing, motoring, and bridge. For
either the fishermen or the golfers to have changed their habits
would have been an infraction of their self-imposed discipline
which would have shocked all right-thinking and regularized
citizens.
      Babbitt blustered, "Why don't we just put our foot
down and say, 'We're going on ahead of you, and that's all there is
to it!' Nothing criminal in it. Simply say to Zilla - "
      "You don't say anything to Zilla simply. Why,
Georgie, she's almost as much of a moralist as you are, and if I
told her the truth she'd believe we were going to meet some dames
in New York. And even Myra - she never nags you, the way Zilla
does, but she'd worry. She'd say, 'Don't you WANT me to go to Maine
with you? I shouldn't dream of going unless you wanted me;' and
you'd give in to save her feelings. Oh, the devil! Let's have a
shot at duck-pins."
      During the game of duck-pins, a juvenile form of
bowling, Paul was silent. As they came down the steps of the club,
not more than half an hour after the time at which Babbitt had
sternly told Miss McGoun he would be back, Paul sighed, "Look here,
old man, oughtn't to talked about Zilla way I did."
      "Rats, old man, it lets off steam."
      "Oh, I know! After spending all noon sneering at the
conventional stuff, I'm conventional enough to be ashamed of saving
my life by busting out with my fool troubles!"
      "Old Paul, your nerves are kind of on the bum. I'm
going to take you away. I'm going to rig this thing. I'm going to
have an important deal in New York and - and sure, of course! -
I'll need you to advise me on the roof of the building! And the ole
deal will fall through, and there'll be nothing for us but to go on
ahead to Maine. I - Paul, when it comes right down to it, I don't
care whether you bust loose or not. I do like having a rep for
being one of the Bunch, but if you ever needed me I'd chuck it and
come out for you every time! Not of course but what you're - course
I don't mean you'd ever do anything that would put - that would put
a decent position on the fritz but - See how I mean? I'm kind of a
clumsy old codger, and I need your fine Eyetalian hand. We - Oh,
hell, I can't stand here gassing all day! On the job! S' long!
Don't take any wooden money, Paulibus! See you soon! S' long!"

CHAPTER VI
      I
       H E forgot Paul
Riesling in an afternoon of not unagreeable details. After a return
to his office, which seemed to have staggered on without him, he
drove a "prospect" out to view a four-flat tenement in the Linton
district. He was inspired by the customer's admiration of the new
cigar-lighter. Thrice its novelty made him use it, and thrice he
hurled half-smoked cigarettes from the car, protesting, "I GOT to
quit smoking so blame much!"
      Their ample discussion of every detail of the
cigar-lighter led them to speak of electric flat-irons and
bed-warmers. Babbitt apologized for being so shabbily old-fashioned
as still to use a hot-water bottle, and he announced that he would
have the sleeping-porch wired at once. He had enormous and poetic
admiration, though very little understanding, of all mechanical
devices. They were his symbols of truth