But my father is a
reel Person, so he only sat down on the bed, and said:
"Well, chicken, so you're at it again!"
I had to smile, although my chin shook.
"You'd better turn me out and forget me," I said. "I was
born for Trouble. My advice to the Familey is to get out from
under. That's all."
"Oh, I don't know," he said. "It's pretty conveniant to
have a Familey to drop on when the slump comes." He thumped
himself on the chest. "A hundred and eighty pounds," he
observed, "just intended for little daughters to fall back on
when other things fail."
"Father," I inquired, putting my hand in his, because I had
been bearing my burdens alone, and my strength was failing: "do
you beleive in Love?"
"_Do_ I!"
"But I mean, not the ordinery atachment between two married
people. I mean Love--the reel thing."
"I see! Why, of course I do."
"Did you ever read Pope, father?"
"Pope? Why I--probably, chicken. Why?"
"Then you know what he says: `Curse on all laws but those
which Love has made.'"
"Look here," he said, sudenly laying a hand on my brow.
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