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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

is to be a great criminal." 

 

***** 

 

Amory fell in love again, and wrote a poem. This was it: 

 

"Marylyn and Sallee, 

Those are the girls for me. 

Marylyn stands above 

Sallee in that sweet, deep love." 

 

He was interested in whether McGovern of Minnesota would make the 

first or second All-American, how to do the card-pass, how to do 

the coin-pass, chameleon ties, how babies were born, and whether 

Three-fingered Brown was really a better pitcher than Christie 

Mathewson. 

 

Among other things he read: "For the Honor of the School," "Little 

Women" (twice), "The Common Law," "Sapho," "Dangerous Dan McGrew," "The 

Broad Highway" (three times), "The Fall of the House of Usher," "Three 

Weeks," "Mary Ware, the Little Colonel's Chum," "Gunga Din," The Police 

Gazette, and Jim-Jam Jems. 

 

He had all the Henty biasses in history, and was particularly fond of 

the cheerful murder stories of Mary Roberts Rinehart. 

 

***** 

 

School ruined his French and gave him a distaste for standard authors. 

His masters considered him idle, unreliable and superficially clever. 

 

***** 

 

He collected locks of hair from many girls. He wore the rings of 

several. Finally he could borrow no more rings, owing to his nervous 

habit of chewing them out of shape. This, it seemed, usually aroused the 

jealous suspicions of the next borrower. 

 

***** 

 

All through the summer months Amory and Frog Parker went each week to 

the Stock Company. Afterward they would stroll home in the balmy air of 

August night, dreaming along Hennepin and Nicollet Avenues, through the 

gay crowd. Amory wondered how people could fail to notice that he was a 

boy marked for glory, and when faces of the throng turned toward him 

and ambiguous eyes stared into his, he assumed the most romantic of 

expressions and walked on the air cushions that lie on the asphalts of 

fourteen. 

 

Always, after he was in bed, there were voices--indefinite, fading, 

enchanting--just outside his window, and before he fell asleep he would 


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