Note 33 — Chapter Twenty-two
Reading edition
One afternoon, on my way home from an auction of shorthorns, I came across the two of them seated on a sort of stile that divided the southeast corner of Tarkington’s from the Rileys’. Even then, the future little first lady of the land was giving voice to some of those amenable qualities that were later to make her the most unrivaled of helpmates, as well as probably the most dashing hostess of the longest and most glittering régime in the history of the capital. Scraps of the overheard conversation across the stile, that day, ran like this:
“Lookie, I’ve got a Martin Schraft button to wear. Papa says vote for Martin Schraft.”
“Puh, Schraft nothing. Vote for Tom Connors for mayor. He hates mono-poly.”
“Wouldn’t vote for a mayor that hates mono-poly.”
“You would, too. Mono-poly’s not fair. My brother Henry says so.”
“Mono-poly’s not fair. All right, Davey, I’ll not vote for mono-poly.”
“Say, Dora, know what?”
“What?”
“Not so very far away from here, know what?”
“No, what?”
“The Wright Brothers flew the first aeroplane at Kittyhawk.”
“Kitty-who?”
“Kitty-hawk’s the name of a place. Don’t you even know that?”
“Davey, you know everything.”
“Not everything. Just nearly. Woodrow Wilson, huh, he won’t let Teddy go to war and fight.”
“Huh, he won’t let Teddy go to war and fight. I won’t vote for Wilson neither, if you don’t want me to, Dave.”
“Huh, Henry says he wants to make the world safe for demo-cracy.”
When my small brother mouthed the phrase then current the country over (I can see him yet, straddling that stile!) his words were absolutely devoid of any of the sardonic import Henry’s older lips gave them.
“Safe for demo-cracy! Yip! Yip!”
“Safe for demo-cracy,” repeated the blessedly sweet Dora, to whom they were just words. “Let’s make the world safe for demo-cracy!”