“Oh, Patty!” he exclaimed, “I’m afraid you’re going to grow up clever! That would be fatal to your ambition! Be good, sweet child, and let who will be clever. Nobody can be both.”
“I can,” declared Patty; “I’ll show you Missouri people yet!”
Mr. Fairfield groaned at this new burst of slang, but Mr. Hepworth only laughed.
“She’ll get over it,” he said. “A few years of these ‘noble aims’ of hers will make her so serious-minded that she won’t even see the meaning of a slang phrase. Though, I must admit, I think some of them very apt, myself.”
“They sure are!” said irrepressible Patty, giggling at her father’s frown.
“But I’ll tell you one thing,” went on Mr. Hepworth: “Whatever line you decide upon, let it be something that needs no training. I mean, if you choose to go in for organised charity or settlement work, well and good. But don’t attempt Red Cross nursing or kindergarten teaching, or anything that requires technical knowledge. For in these days, only trained labour succeeds, and only expert, at that.”
“Oh, pshaw,” said Patty; “I don’t mean to earn money. Though if I wanted to, I’m sure I could. Why, if I had to earn my own living, I could do it as easy as anything!”
“I’m not so sure of that,” said Mr. Hepworth, gravely. “It isn’t so easy for a young woman to earn her living without a technical education in some line.”
“Well, Patty, you’ll never have to earn your own living,” said her father, smiling; “so don’t worry about that. But I agree with our friend, that you couldn’t do it, if you did have to.”
“That sounds so Irish, daddy, that I think it’s as bad as slang. However, I see you are all of unsympathetic nature, so I won’t confide in you further as to my aims or ambitions.”