rtant.

He was practicing his important look when Kate bustled in and spoiled
it by sitting on his lap.

"You're going to do fine today," she said, "and you're going to get
off to a good start. I made them show me your cab. It's one of their
brand-new battery-electric ones, a sort of mauve that will go with
your purple robe. You'll look swell in it."

* * * * *

Bozzy was kissing her when the lobby buzzer sounded three long rings.

"There's your cab," Kate said, rising.

He followed her to the living room. Projected on one wall was a
picture of the cabman facing the lobby annunciator, fifty-three
stories down. The man was tall, fat, and in need of a shave, yet he
wore purple tights with pink and green trim.

Bozzy shuddered. "Who in the world concocted that rig?"

"Your wife, sir," the cabman answered.

"It's beautiful," said Bozzy. "I'll be right down."

He wasn't, though. Kate told the kids he was leaving, and they trooped
out of the bathroom to say good-by.

Bozzy could tell Ralph was the one being bathed only because he was
naked--all three were equally wet, and equally anxious to embrace
their Daddy. He had to make himself a new robe while the cab meter
ticked and Kate jittered.

But once started, the drive between balconied buildings and
intervening plazas went fast enough. Bozzy wasn't over half an hour
late in reaching Mr. Kojac's apartment building.

The old man waited in the street, looking spare, spruce, and
impatient.

"I do wish," he said, easing himself into the cab, "that you had a
less anti-social attitude. Now you'll have to claim I delayed you."

"I'm sorry, sir," Bozzy mumbled. "It's kind of you to take the blame."

He thought it was also typical. He had understudied Mr. Kojac for the
preceding two years, and felt there was no one else in the world for
whom he could have as much respect.

"Actually, sir," he explained, "I was delayed by the children."

"An excuse, Boswell! Whether conscious or subconscious, nothing more
than an excuse! Distaste for today's ceremonial is smeared over your
face like so much bread-and-jelly."

Unconsciously, Bozzy wiped his cheeks.

Mr. Kojac laughed. "You're guilt-ridden and that's plain absurd. All
young men in your position have to go through exactly the same thing.
You must simply make up your mind to do what society requires."

"All I can think of is your kindness," Bozzy blurted. "People should
replace those