Algy was not certain that this could be considered a compliment; nor was he certain whether it was a covert insult. Moreover, he had no time for either, just then, because he was engrossed with the euphony of his name. He smiled beatifically to himself as he repeated it.
“Another great publicity stunt your name suggests,” continued Jack, finding he had not “gotten Algy’s goat,” with his last remark, “is the rubber trade. Now, I do not mean you to infer that I mean the slang word ‘rubber,’ but I am thinking of A. A. A. rubber, such as we use in washers on hose and kitchen sinks. They are handy for other purposes, too. Some folks wear A. A. A. rubber under foot—to keep the soles of their feet dry, you know. I suppose you find it dreadfully embarrassing when your initials remind people of their feet, and of drains, or kitchen sinks.”
Algy had to ponder this before he would commit himself, but Mrs. Alexander began to think that perhaps this handsome young man might be laughing quietly at her friend and great admirer. Before she could grasp the situation, however, Jack had diverted her attention to the town the train was now approaching—La Junta.
“I always feel that I must take in a great mouthful of pronunciation before I speak that word. Then it comes with an explosive sort of sound—‘La Hoontah!’” laughed he, purposely keeping her from investigating his recent bout with Algy.
“I have heard that it would be far better if the men who attend to the spelling of names and places in America would use simple spelling the way the town is called,” said Mrs. Alexander. “I’ve often thought of writing to the board of men who do this work, to ask them to think of my suggestion. It would be a great deed, to spell names exactly as they are spoken.”
“Indeed it would,” agreed Jack. “For instance, such a fine idea would save so much confusion that you would be entitled to a memorial in the Hall of Fame, Mrs. Alexander.”
“Oh, this is the least of many great ideas I have, but so few friends ever appreciate them. I really feel that I am repressed in my beautiful thoughts for the world’s welfare, because my husband and Dodo never can understand me, you see,” explained the poor lady.
“Well, now that I understand you, esteemed friend, you will not have to waste your ideals on Algy. You may share them with me,” said Jack, with one of his adoring glances.
Mrs. Alexander felt sweetly thrilled at such appreciation, and suddenly Algy woke up to a remark made ten minutes before.
“Oh, I say! You didn’t mean that my initials might be in the class of flour or rubber, did you?” He was quite aggrieved.