It was a clean, sweet, sleepy-eyed
Bennie that we tucked between the sheets. We three women
stood looking down at him as he lay there in the quaint
old blue-painted bed that had once held the plump little
Knapfs.
"You think anyway he had enough supper? mused the
anxious-browed Frau Knapf.
"To school he will have to go, yes?" murmured Frau
Nirlanger, regretfully.
I tucked in the covers at one side of the bed, not
that they needed tucking, but because it was such a
comfortable, satisfying thing to do.
"Just at this minute," I said, as I tucked, "I'd
rather be a newspaper reporter than anything else in the
world. As a profession 'tis so broadenin', an' at the
same time, so chancey."
CHAPTER XIII
THE TEST
Some day the marriageable age for women will be
advanced from twenty to thirty, and the old maid line
will be changed from thirty to forty. When that time
comes there will be surprisingly few divorces. The
husband of whom we dream at twenty is not at all the type
of man who attracts us at thirty. The man I married at
twenty was a brilliant, morbid, handsome, abnormal
creature with magnificent eyes and very white teeth and
no particular appetite at mealtime.
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