would carry it somewhere, anywhere, in his arms to his friends, the
Park, New York, to see me. At breakfast, dinner, supper the heir
presumptive was in a high-chair beside him.

"Ah, now, here's a rubber spoon. Beat with that. It's less destructive
and less painful physically."

"How about a nice prust" (crust) "dipped in bravery" (gravy) "--heh? Do
you suppose that would cut any of your teeth?"

"Zuleika, this son of yours seems to think a spoonful of beer or two
might not hurt him. What do you say?"

Occasionally, especially of a Saturday evening, he wanted to go bowling
and yet he wanted his heir. The problem was solved by fitting the latter
into a tight little sweater and cap and carrying him along on his
shoulder, into the bar for a beer, thence to the bowling alley, where
young hopeful was fastened into a chair on the side lines while Peter
and myself or some of his friends bowled. At ten or ten-thirty or
eleven, as the case might be, he was ready to leave, but before that
hour les ongfong might be sound asleep, hanging against Peter's scarf,
his interest in his toes or thumbs having given out.

"Peter, look at that," I observed once. "Don't you think we'd better
take him home?"

"Home nothing! Let him sleep. He can sleep here as well as anywhere, and
besides I like to look at him." And in the room would be a great crowd,
cigars, beers, laughter, and Peter's various friends as used to the
child's presence and as charmed by it as he was. He was just the man who