"Anything from nine up," I replied.
"Gimme some money," she said.
I dropped her a ten spot. She caught it and was off, tearing down the drive like a jockey, and twenty minutes later she shoved a pair of pumps through my door she'd bought in Pittsfield, and I sailed down to dinner a trifle late, but as dignified as a London alderman.
Now Ted you've had considerable more experience with society than I've had, and probably you won't make any break at that house party, but if I were you after you get your suit case packed, I'd go through it a second time to see if anything's missing. Carefulness is a mighty handy habit to have around the house, whether it's a man's ability to look far enough ahead not to borrow on his insurance policy, or his wife's skill in keeping down the bills.
I've had clerks in the office who'd do a job in jig time and leave behind enough mistakes to make the Bolsheviki envious, and when it comes time to sweeten salaries they are always surprised and hurt, because they are passed by for the fellows who haven't such fancy windups, but do have better control.
Speed is a tremendous asset to-day, and when it's combined with control it's almost unbeatable. For example, Walter Johnson. Still, I've seen old Cicotte mow down the Red Sox with only two hits when he hadn't enough speed to break a window, and you'll find that a young fellow who can do a job in half a day, and get it right, is a better man to have on your pay roll than a chap who can do the same work in half an hour, and then spend a day correcting his mistakes.
Have a good time, and perhaps when you get back to school your eyes will feel better so you can make a creditable showing at your mid-years.
Your affectionate father,
William Soule.
P. S. The girl who bought me the pumps is Jack Hamilton's daughter. She's married and has three children so don't get excited.