Life — April 9, 1903 — page 14: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

oe a what do you call ’em ‘ Lectures to Parents ’?—would naturally be enthusiastic about them. But, my dear, I tell you what I willdo, I will, as you suggest, LIFE'S FASHIONS, WORKING COSTUME FOR A RUSSIAN PEASANT. A Drastic Measure. a V THAT do they do?” said Dimpleton. “What do they do!” re- peated Mrs. Dimpleton ;“* why, they tell us parents just what we ought to know. I have always felt that you never realized the responsibility en- tailed upon you as a father. You are apparently so flippant and so indifferent to it all, I spoke to the president of the club about you the other day, and she wished you would just come to one of our meetings. She felt sure you would be awakened. Oh,—it was the last one, I mean—it was so inspirin . “What do you want me to do?” asked Dimpleton. “Go there with you and listen to a lot of ridiculous gabble? Do men ever go?” “Oh, yes,” exclaimed Mrs. Dimpleton, ‘indeed they do! And although they are not so numerons as the women, they take such an interest in every- thing.’’ Dimpleton laughed. “T should imagine,” he said, “that any idiot of a so-called man who would attend such— take more of an interest in the kid. Perhaps Ihave been neglecting him.’” ‘*« But will your interest,”’ said Mrs, Dimple- ton, ‘be the right kind? You know that un- less a parent is carefully trained in our modern methods he is likely to do more harm than good.” “ Well,” said Dimpleton, “in my coarse, un- natural, primitive way, I'll do the best I can. Bring the boy in here, and I'll stay home with him this afternoon and be a father to him, while you go and drink in culture and instruc- tion from the lecture platform—that fountain head of all wisdom.” Edward, four years old, came toddling in with his nurse, who was instracted to put on her things and go with Mrs. Dimpleton, that she, too, might be inspired in the right direction. The carriage presently bowled away, and left behind—a fond father with a fell scheme, and aplastic-minded youngster, just waiting to be taught. ° . ° B* and by, in the dusk of the afternoon, the carriage came back. Mrs. Dimpleton, her face flushed with renewed enthusiasm, en- tered the house and ran upstairs to the nursery. An unusual and striking scene met her gaze, Dimpleton, with a huge cigar in his mouth, sat in the centre of the room, dealing the cards on ard table that he had brought up from the library, On the table, in two large stacks, werea lot of many-colored poker chips. On the other side of the table sat- Edward, an expres- sion of infantile absorption on his innocent face, holding his hand, with intense interest, “MANY MAD & LITTLE Lawn.” comicbooks.com