COMPLIMENTARY TO THE “KIDS”
Here, I wish to pay my respects to the “ Kids”all “Kids.” And especially the childrenborn of parents living in my home—separate apartment—with whom I have had close
and pleasant association.
Complimentary to MY LITTLE PAL
Also, I was brought up with kids—ten in my father’s family; eight of them younger than me; all boys but the last one. And then, too, after my marriage, the wife’s nieces, Josephine, Donna, and Lucile Cole; Virginia, Ruth, and Betty Hyre; and Mary Jane Hall, were in turn very much in our home—which, altogether, has instilled in me a profound respect for the kids. Girls preferred.
Cloy spent the first five years of her life in my home—separate apartment. When she was about one year old, I often carried her down town and got her an ice cream cone. She was just beginning to walk, that awkward period when a child has to spraddle and step fast to hold its equilibrium. At times when she would be with her mother on the settee at the north end of the 22-foot front porch when I might choose to come around from my apartment to the south end, she would make known to her mother her desire to be put down on the floor, and she would come cooing with outstretched arms for me to pick her up. And while she could not talk, her mind was, I’m sure, on a cone somewhere down town. I never aimed to disappoint her — but one time when I had been working in my Rose Garden and was plenty tired, I tried to talk her out of it, put her off. She could not understand all I was saying, of course—but she caught the general idea all right. Never again did she come a-cooing to me with outstretched arms. This is not to say we did not get more cones.
When Cloy was about four years old, she had a line-up for me to participate in a social activity of the family. I said, “No, Cloy, I couldn’t do that—I don’t belong. She said, “Well, gee—you’re one of us, ain’t you?”
