Books Made To Balance

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Title:     Books Made To Balance
Author: George Ade [More Titles by Ade]

Once there was a Husky employed to crack the Whip around a smoky Works that did not offer an attractive Vista from the Car Window, although it blossomed with a fragrant crop of Dividends every time the Directors got together in the Back Room.

Most of the American Workingmen employed in this Hive of Industry came from remote parts of Europe. Each wore his Head entirely in front of his Ears and had taken an Oath to support the Constitution.

It was the duty of the Husky to keep these imported Rabbits on the Jump and increase the Output.

He made himself so strong that he was declared In every time a Melon was sliced, and when it came time to Scramble the Eggs and pull of the grand Whack-Up, he was standing at the head of the Line with a Basket on his Arm.

So it came about that one who started in a Thatched Cottage and grew up on cold Spuds and never saw a Manicure Set until he was 38 years of age, went home one day to find Gold Fish swimming about in every Room and Servants blocking the Hallways.

He had some trouble finding Rings that would go over his Knuckles and the Silk Kind felt itchy for quite a while, but finally he adjusted himself to his new Prosperity and began to deplore the apparent Growth of Socialism.

This rugged and forceful Character, to whom the Muck-Rakers referred as a Baron, had a Daughter who started out as Katie when she carried the Hot Coffee over to Dad every Noon.

When she got her first Chip Diamond and Father switched from the Dudeen to Cigars, she was known in High School Circles as Katherine.

And when Pop got in on the main Divvy and began to take an interest in Paintings, the name went down on the Register at the Waldorf as Kathryn, in those peaked Sierra Nevada Letters about four inches high.

Katie used to go to St. Joseph's Hall once in a while with Martin, the Lad who helped around the Grocery.

Katherine regarded with much Favor a Pallid Drug Clerk who acted as a Clearing House for all Local Scandal.

But say, when Kathyrn came back from a vine-clad Institute overlooking the historic Hudson and devoted to the embossing and polishing of the Female Progeny of those who have got away with it, she began working the Snuffer on all the Would-Bes back in the Mill Town. When she got through extinguishing, the little Group that remained looked like the Remnant of the Old Guard at Waterloo.

Father had to stick around because occasionally the eight thousand Good Tempered Boys on the Pay Roll would begin to burn with Wood Alcohol and the Wrongs of Labor and pull off a few Murders, merely to hasten the Triumph of Justice.

By the way, Kathryn had a Mother who used to hide in a room upstairs and timidly inspect her new Silk Dresses.

Kathryn applied the Acid Test to her People and decided that they never could Belong.

She swung on the General Manager for a Letter of Credit big enough to set Ireland free and went traipsing off to the Old World under the chaperonage of a New York Lady who had seen Better Days.

Now it will be admitted that William J. Burns is Some Sleuth, but when it comes to apprehending and running to Earth a prattling American Ingenue with a few Millions stuffed in her Reticule, the Boy with the mildewed Title who sits on the Boulevard all day and dallies with the green and pink Bottled Goods has got it all over Burns like a Striped Awning.

All the starving members of the Up-Against-It Association were waiting at the Dock to cop the prospective Meal Ticket. Not one of them had ever Shaved or Worked and each wore his Handkerchief inside his Cuff and had Yellow Gloves stitched down the Back, and was fully entitled to sit in an Electric Chair and have 80,000 Volts distributed through the Steel Ribs of his Corset.

As soon as Kathryn began to meet the Roqueforts and Camemberts she discovered that they had Lovely Eyes and certainly knew how to treat a Lady.

Kathryn had been brought up on Philadelphia Literature, and even during her most ambitious Social Flights she had encountered the Type of Man who remains on the opposite side of the Room having trouble with his White Gloves.

She never had been against those Willing Performers from Gascony who wore Red Ribbons and Medals and who rushed over to kiss the Hand and then look deep into her Eyes and throb like a Motor Boat.

This class of Work simply shot her Pulse up to 130 and made her think that she was Cleopatra, floating in the Royal Barge and surrounded by Crawling Slaves.

When a certain Markee crawled into her Lap and purred into her Ear and threatened to curl up on the Rug and die if she Refused him, she simply keeled over with Excitement.

After she recovered, she found herself actually Engaged to the Representative of one of the Oldest Families in the Saucisson District of the Burgoo Province and as manly a Chap as ever borrowed Money from a Toe-Dancer.

She hurried home to keep it out of the Newspapers and to tell those who would listen that American Men were Impossible. Then the Markee came over with his Solicitor and a Bottle of Chloroform and a full kit of Surgical Instruments, and the Wedding was fully reported by the Associated Press.

The Captain of Industry sized up Son-in-Law, and knew that when the Money was gone the Markee could always get a job hanging up Hats in the Check-Room of a first-class Table d'Hote Restaurant.

From the window of her Chateau in the Burgoo Province the Lady Cashier can see the American Tourists going by in their hired Motor Cars. Her Cheek flushes with Delight when she happens to remember that in another Three Months or so, Friend Husband will come home long enough to show her where to sign her Name.

What is more, she has the Privilege of walking out at any time and picking Flowers with the Understanding that she is not to let it be known that she is related to any of her Relatives on either side of the Atlantic.

MORAL: Europeans made the Money and they had a Right to pull it down.

[The end]
George Ade's short story: Books Made To Balance

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