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The New Fable Of The Wandering Boy And The Wayward Parent
by [?]

Elmer’s Father became a Demon with the Irons and had his Name engraved on a Consolation Cup.

Simultaneous with the Golf Epidemic, a good many Families that could not afford Kitchen Cabinets began to glide around in red Touring-Cars.

Any one smelling the Blue Smoke along Main Street and then looking both ways before dashing across to the Drug Store was compelled to admit that the Jays had awakened from their Long Sleep.

Refined Vawdyville was on tap daily, and the Children of those who were only moderately well-to-do knew all the latest improper Songs.

While the men were changing from Jumpers to Tuxedos, the Sisters had not remained stationary.

The Lap Supper was formally abolished soon after Puff Sleeves went out.

Girls who had been brought up on Parchesi and Muggins would sit around the Bridge Table all afternoon, trying to cop out some Lace for the new Party Dress.

An imported Professor taught the Buds how to Tango and Trot.

Within a week after a new one had horrified Newport, the Younger Set would have it down pat and be mopping up the floor with one another.

Of course they were denounced by the local Ministers, but the Guilty Parties never heard the Denunciations, as they were out Motoring at the time.

Whenever there was a Big Session, all Bridles were removed and the Speed Limit abolished.

Riding home in the Livery Hacks about 4 A.M., the Merry-Makers would be all in, but much gratified to know that Vienna and Paree had nothing on them as regards Rough House.

All the Elite would get together and open a Keg of Spikes at the slightest Provocation.

It was remarkable how much Dull Care they could banish in one Evening, especially if they got an Early Start.

The Town Pump did a punk Business, but the Side-Boards blossomed with Fusel Oil and Fizzerine.

Intense Excitement prevailed when word came that Elmer was En Route. Little Knots of People could be seen standing on the Corners, framing a Schedule of Entertainment which involved nearly everything except Sleep.

They said to themselves: “It is up to us to show this proud Pill from the City that we can be a bit Goey when the Going is right. If he thinks he can pull any new Wrinkles on the Provincials, he is entitled to another Think. We must get into our Evening Glads early this Afternoon and clear the Decks for a Hard Night.”

While they were making these grim Preparations, Elmer was doubled up in Section 8, reading a sterilized Magazine from Boston. Subconsciously he counted the peaceful Days that would ensue.

He figured on going back to the dear old Room under the Eaves, with a patch-work Quilt on the Four-Poster and a Steel Engraving of U. S. Grant on the Wall.

Having devoted many Days to the Annual Report of the Purity Brigade, he was due to turn in at 9 o’clock each evening, while recuperating in the Country.

The sanctified Product of the new and regenerative Influences at work in every City was plunked down in the Hot-bed of Gaiety at about 4 P.M.

The Comrades of his Boyhood were massed on the Platform. As he alighted, they sang, “Hail! Hail! the gang’s All Here!” and so on and so on.

They had acquired a Running Start. It was their belief that Elmer would be gratified to know that all the Elect had become slightly spiffed in his Honor.

They sent his Stuff up to the House, crowded Two-Weeks’ Cards into his Pockets, and bore him away in a Town Car to the Club, where Relays were waiting to extend Hospitality to the returned Exile until he was Plastered.

They seemed to think he had devoted the years of his Absence to building up a Thirst.

Their Dismay was genuine when he timidly informed the Irrigation Committee that he desired Vichy.

They told him he was a Celluloid Sport and that his refusal to Libate was little short of an Affront.

Escaping from the Comanches, he hurried to the Old Homestead to sit by the Grate Fire and tease the Cat.