Evening Republican, Volume 15, Number 109, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 8 May 1911 — The Son of His Father [ARTICLE]

The Son of His Father

John Hoke was the proprietor of a family grocery in a Connecticut town much frequented- by summer ■visitors. Most any grocery may be • family grocery, but most any man could not be a John Hoke and have a son twenty-one years old and sagely say to him: ..--v "Harold Hoke, within a fortnight after you were born 1 -was planning your future. That was the reason I named you Harold. You have grown up. You know the canned goods trade. You are an expert in butter and eggs. You can mingle two sorts of the poorest coffee and bring forth a blend of Mocha and Java. There is inothlng further for you to learn in ;the grocery trade. It is for you to marry money and set up as a gentleman. You have the name Harold to begin with. That is half the battle. lExcept during the morning and afternoon rush hours at the store you can be looking around for a wife.” Harold Hoke knew his father to be * successful business man and a wise /adviser. He was a short young man and a fat young man, and had never ibeen In love. The grocery trade had been too brisk for that He had inherited his father's assurance and •wisdom, and he also had a good opinlon of himself. As soon as he had (had a little,time to think things over ]he came to the conclusion that getting married was going to be an easy thing in his case. He wrote down a hist of all the marriageable girls in ‘the village and then began the work of elimination. For this or that reason he erased name after name until he had reached the end. He couldn't throw himself away on any of them. The father soon got on to his perplexities and then the sage advised ■again: x “My son, with that name of yours, ,and taking you as you stand, you ’should go further afield. There are ia dozen young ladies summering all around us. Some are the daughters of rich men. I believe there are two or three here from whose fathers In ,New York we order tea, coffee and sugar as we want It, and whose bills are promptly met when due. In delivering orders at the various houses you must have met some of these young ladles. It is now up to you to jpush the acquaintance. The grocery ‘trade is full of cheek, and I am ipleased to know that you have your share of ft." ' ■ " £ It is one thing to stand behind the counter of a grocery and ask a young lady from New York or Boston whether she wants seedless or layer raisins, and speak About the dusty roads and the farmers wanting rain, and another to approach that young lady socially. For the first time in bis life Harold Hoke realized this. He had delivered many orders at houses where they took summer boarders, but always to the cook at the back door, and many of said cooks had familiarly called him Harry and joked him on his shortness and his. fatness. The thing must be got at In some way, however. His father was behind the movement and would expect results, the same as when he got stuck on a tub of butter and sent it to the house to be worked over and sweetened up. Each day when the rush was over Harold dressed up and walked about and made his appearance at the postoffice. He raised his hat to a score of young ladies he had sold sweetmeats and canned hardshell crabs to, and when they stared at him in an icy way in reply he could not exactly make it out, and went away to see if by accident one end of his collar was trying to climb over his head or he had got a spot of grime on bis nose. "You are too coy, my son—a bit too coy,” chided ; the father as he weighed out three and a half pounds of granulated sugar for a quarter. There’s nothing in trade unless you push, it Same with falling in love and getting married. You must observe the social amenities. Go out and pay formal calls. Let it become known in an indirect way that your name is Harold, and that you have to a great extent retired from trade." . The next afternoon Harold made three calls at villas where they took boarders. It took more than cheek. IV took the gall of a government mule. At the first villa the landlady, who traded at another grocery—a grocery which made no pretense of keeping its stock up and its prices down —said that her house was full and she could take no more boarders. When Harold would have mingled with the guests cm the lawn she stared after him with so much suspicion in her eyes that he gave up. At the second place one of the servants knew him and asked the price of butter, and at the third two good looking girls giggled at him and sent him walking away. His afternoon had not been spent in vain, however. He decided that one of the gigglers would fill the bill and straightway began laying his plans. He needed advice from the sage again sad he got it The grocery was on the point of closing after a successful day’s business when the father leaned on the handle of the broom with which ho was sweeping out and said: "Perhaps you are pushing trade a little too vigorously, my son. Perhaps the •pensive attitude should come in hare. I caught your mother by It when cheek had failed. She saw that I was dejected and troubled

Copyri*ht, 1911, by Associated Lltorwry

and she came to my relief. Secure a woman’s sympathy and you have secured her love. Be pensive, my boy, but at the same time be prepared to be heroic. It’s a great combination—almost as good as a bar of soap and two dozen clothes pins for a dime.” ‘ ■ •<,-■■ The giggling young lady, who now occupied Harold's thoughts to the exclusion of kerosene and molasses was in the habit of riding out every morning on her bike. She always took a certain road and covered a certain distance. On a certain morning she came across a dejected-looking young man seated on a stone by the roadside. She couldn't say whether he had busted his suspenders or lost his mother by the chicken pox, and she didn't care. She whizzed past him in the most cold-hearted manner. He was there again on the following morning. This time she was satisfied that he Was sighing as well as looking dejected. On the third morning he looked at her appealingly, just as if he had an attack of the colic and wanted to ask if she had her’ flask of brandy with her. It was the: same on the fourth and the fifth. It is not a fat man's nature to be pensive and dejected for long He gets discouraged over it and wants a change. The girl had never slackened her pace by a second. She had never wavered. She had never seemed to see him. So far as he could tell, she'had regarded him as a toadstool or fungus growing on the rock. The sage had just weighed: out 14 ounces of fiO-cent tea. for a pound, which is allowable in all well-regulated family groceries to offset the leakage of the N. O. molasses barrels, when his advice was again asked for and given. "My son, there are three ways of winning a woman,” he said. "First, try cheek. If that is a failure try-the pensive business. If that goes back on you try heroics. The two first, will generally win, but you have the third in reserve. The sex love a heroic man. The shorter and fatter and mors heroic he is the quicker they fall in love with him. I leave it to you to perform some daring deed. In trade here we hate often mixed 23 and 30 cent butter together and sold the same at 29, but to capture a young maiden’s heart it must be something more heroic than that.” . It was. Harold had all the Ingredients at hand and he proceeded to mix them. The young lafly who would not notice his penslveaess must be saved from a tragedy, and he was the one to do it She had not yielded her sympathy, but she must her gratitude. When morning came again and she rode out she saw the same pensive young man sitting on the same pensive stone. He still turned an appealing eye, but still in vain. She simply took it for an obstinate case of colic and let it go at that. Twenty minutes later, as she returned, there was a cow in the middle of the road. It was a cow. with a, glare in her eye and a seeming disposition to pick up girl and bike and toss them over the fence. The girl was coming down a long hill at the rate of forty miles an hour. Even a cock-eyed man could see the impending tragedy. If she held for the cow it meant, broken bones; if she ran into the ditch it meant sudden death. But the heroic Harold was there. It was his business to be there. He had timed it all by the watch, and it was no dollar watch, .either. The girl came on without a word. He sprang out to drive the cow aside or perish with her. He was about to shout out something appropriate to the occasion when a cyclone hit him. Another hit the cow. Both were knocked into the highway dltcfiT and when the young man recovered consciousness he was fondly resting with his head on the cow’s heels and she was trying to kick that head off. The cyclone had done its work and passed on. Harold staggered to his feet and looked around for dead girls and fragments of bikes, but the road was clear. They were eating breakfast at the villa half a mile below. “You see, ffiy son,” said the grocer sage after driving a spigot into a new barrel of cider vinegar made without reference to cider, “some young men are a success at love and some at clerking in a grocery, and after resting up for the day and night you may be here at the usual hour in the morning to take down the shutters and make the usual display of tomatoes and green corn on the platform.” •