dabbled and played and frilled for five years. Before God and man,
of what use are you? When I was your age I had one suit of
underclothes. I was riding with the cattle in Colusa. I was hard
as rocks, and I could sleep on a rock. I lived on jerked beef and
bear-meat. I am a better man physically right now than you are.
You weigh about one hundred and sixty-five. I can throw you right
now, or thrash you with my fists."

"It doesn't take a physical prodigy to mop up cocktails or pink
tea," Kit murmured deprecatingly. "Don't you see, my avuncular, the
times have changed. Besides, I wasn't brought up right. My dear
fool of a mother-"

John Bellew started angrily.

"-As you described her, was too good to me; kept me in cotton wool
and all the rest. Now, if when I was a youngster I had taken some
of those intensely masculine vacations you go in for--I wonder why
you didn't invite me sometimes? You took Hal and Robbie all over
the Sierras and on that Mexico trip."

"I guess you were too Lord Fauntleroyish."

"Your fault, avuncular, and my dear--er--mother's. How was I to
know the hard? I was only a chee-ild. What was there left but
etchings and pictures and fans? Was it my fault that I never had to
sweat?"

The older man looked at his nephew with unconcealed disgust. He had
no patience with levity from the lips of softness.