could get in!" Babbitt crowed.
"Not only the big, salient, vital facts, about how fast the Sunday
School--and the collection--is growing, but a lot of humorous gossip
and kidding: about how some blowhard fell down on his pledge to get new
members, or the good time the Sacred Trinity class of girls had at their
wieniewurst party. And on the side, if he had time, the press-agent
might even boost the lessons themselves--do a little advertising for
all the Sunday Schools in town, in fact. No use being hoggish toward
the rest of 'em, providing we can keep the bulge on 'em in membership.
Frinstance, he might get the papers to--Course I haven't got a literary
training like Frink here, and I'm just guessing how the pieces ought
to be written, but take frinstance, suppose the week's lesson is about
Jacob; well, the press-agent might get in something that would have
a fine moral, and yet with a trick headline that'd get folks to read
it--say like: 'Jake Fools the Old Man; Makes Getaway with Girl and
Bankroll.' See how I mean? That'd get their interest! Now, course, Mr.
Eathorne, you're conservative, and maybe you feel these stunts would be
undignified, but honestly, I believe they'd bring home the bacon."

Eathorne folded his hands on his comfortable little belly and purred
like an aged pussy:

"May I say, first, that I have been very much pleased by your analysis
of the situation, Mr. Babbitt. As you surmise, it's necessary in My
Position to be conservative, and perhaps endeavor to maintain a certain
standard of dignity. Yet I think you'll find me somewhat progressive. In
our bank, for example, I hope I may say that we have as modern a method
of publicity and advertising as any in the city. Yes, I fancy you'll
find us oldsters quite cognizant of the shifting spiritual values of the
age. Yes, oh yes. And so, in fact, it pleases me to be able to say
that though personally I might prefer the sterner Presbyterianism of an
earlier era--"

Babbitt finally gathered that Eathorne was willing.

Chum Frink suggested as part-time press-agent one Kenneth Escott,
reporter on the Advocate-Times.

They parted on a high plane of amity and Christian helpfulness.

Babbitt did not drive home, but toward the center of the city. He wished
to be by himself and exult over the beauty of intimacy with William
Washington Eathorne.

II

A snow-blanched evening of ringing pavements and eager lights.

Great golden lights of trolley-cars slidin