WAR
Dave got almost gay again, he thought me so funny.
"'If I love her
As she loves me,
No knife can cut our love in three!'"
he sings—erroneously.
"That sounds better," says I. "You marry her. She needs it—to be tamed. No woman is tamed till she's married. Look at your mother! Why, she often thanked me for making her meek. And you got a way of taming horses that'll go well with Evelyn. First the spur, then the bit, and, when she's up in the air, the whip—hard. That tells 'em who is master!"
Just to cheer him up a little more. But it is not much use. Down into the dumps he goes.
He was quiet again, for a while, and the voices outside died down. Then, all changed, he says:
"That was nice of you—to call me a sunbeam, daddy—very nice. I'll never forget it.
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