We now come to
Awning Crank and Spring Rollers. I don't think I should like
that. Rolling awning cranks seems to me a sorry way of spending
life's springtime. Let's try the B's."
"Let's try this omelette. It looks delicious." Jimmy shook his
head.
"I will toy with it--but absently and in a _distrait_ manner, as
becomes a man of affairs. There's nothing in the B's. I might
devote my ardent youth to Bar-Room Glassware and Bottlers'
Supplies. On the other hand, I might not. Similarly, while there
is no doubt a bright future for somebody in Celluloid, Fiberloid,
and Other Factitious Goods, instinct tells me that there is none
for--" he pulled up on the verge of saying, "James Braithwaite
Crocker," and shuddered at the nearness of the pitfall.
"--for--" he hesitated again--"for Algernon Bayliss," he
concluded.
Ann smiled delightedly. It was so typical that his father should
have called him something like that. Time had not dimmed her
regard for the old man she had seen for that brief moment at
Paddington Station. He was an old dear, and she thoroughly
approved of this latest manifestation of his supposed pride in
his offspring.
"Is that really your name--Algernon?"
"I cannot deny it."
"I think your father is a darling," said Ann inconsequently.
Jimmy had buried himself in the directory again.
"The D's," he said. "Is it possible that posterity will know me
as Bayliss the Dermatologist? Or as Bayliss the Drop Forger? I
don't quite like that last one.
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