Uncle Ike broke in, "Are alive and well, I suppose. They don't write me
and I don't write them. I told my partners they must buy me out, and I
gave them sixty days to do it in. I gave my wife and daughters
two-thirds of my fortune and put the other third into an annuity. I am
calculating now that if my health holds good I shall beat the insurance
company in the end."

Quincy, finding that his inquiries provoked such interesting replies,
risked another, "Are your daughters married?"

Uncle Ike laughed quietly. "I don't read the daily papers as I said, so
I don't know, but they wouldn't send me cards anyway. They know my ideas
of marriage."

Quincy, smiling, asked, "Have you some new ideas on that old custom?"

"Yes, I have," replied Uncle Ike. "If two men go into business and each
puts in money and they make money or don't make it, the law doesn't fix
it so that they must keep together for their natural lives, but allows
the firm to be dissolved by mutual consent."

"Why, sir, that would make marriage a limited partnership," said Quincy
with a smile.

"What better is it now?" asked Uncle Ike. "The law doesn't compel
couples to live together if they don't want to, and if they don't want
to live together, why not let them, under proper restrictions, get up
some new firms? Of course, there wouldn't be any objection to parties
living together for their natural lives, if they wanted to, and the fact
that they did would be pretty good proof that they wanted to."