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AMORY, SON OF BEATRICE
SPIRES AND GARGOYLES
THE EGOTIST CONSIDERS
NARCISSUS OFF DUTY
THE DEBUTANTE
EXPERIMENTS IN CONVALESCENCE
YOUNG IRONY
THE SUPERCILIOUS SACRIFICE
THE EGOTIST BECOMES A PERSONAGE

me you two children were up here--How do you do, Amory." 

 

Amory watched Myra and waited for the crash--but none came. The pout 

faded, the high pink subsided, and Myra's voice was placid as a summer 

lake when she answered her mother. 

 

"Oh, we started so late, mama, that I thought we might as well--" 

 

He heard from below the shrieks of laughter, and smelled the vapid 

odor of hot chocolate and tea-cakes as he silently followed mother and 

daughter down-stairs. The sound of the graphophone mingled with the 

voices of many girls humming the air, and a faint glow was born and 

spread over him: 

 

"Casey-Jones--mounted to the cab-un 

Casey-Jones--'th his orders in his hand. 

Casey-Jones--mounted to the cab-un 

Took his farewell journey to the prom-ised land." 

 

***** 

 

SNAPSHOTS OF THE YOUNG EGOTIST 

 

Amory spent nearly two years in Minneapolis. The first winter he wore 

moccasins that were born yellow, but after many applications of oil and 

dirt assumed their mature color, a dirty, greenish brown; he wore a gray 

plaid mackinaw coat, and a red toboggan cap. His dog, Count Del Monte, 

ate the red cap, so his uncle gave him a gray one that pulled down over 

his face. The trouble with this one was that you breathed into it and 

your breath froze; one day the darn thing froze his cheek. He rubbed 

snow on his cheek, but it turned bluish-black just the same. 

 

***** 

 

The Count Del Monte ate a box of bluing once, but it didn't hurt him. 

Later, however, he lost his mind and ran madly up the street, bumping 

into fences, rolling in gutters, and pursuing his eccentric course out 

of Amory's life. Amory cried on his bed. 

 

"Poor little Count," he cried. "Oh, _poor_ little _Count!_" 

 

After several months he suspected Count of a fine piece of emotional 

acting. 

 

***** 

 

Amory and Frog Parker considered that the greatest line in literature 

occurred in Act III of "Arsene Lupin." 

 

They sat in the first row at the Wednesday and Saturday matinees. The 

line was: 

 

"If one can't be a great artist or a great soldier, the next best thing 


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