She had great faith in her son’s charm.
Junior was five years old when his father came back from the Alaska project. He could not remember having met this grown-up before, but he might have said, “I have heard so much about you.” His mother had told him. For example, his father was the best and bravest man in the world. Also, according to the same reliable authority, he loved Junior and his mother enormously and equally. He was far away, getting bread and butter for them. A wonderful person, a great big man, six feet two inches “and well proportioned,” and such an honourable gentleman that—well, that was the only reason he was not coming home with a huge fortune, she explained. But at any rate he was coming home at last and would be awfully glad to see what a big boy Junior had become.
He was, but Phil had always been rather shy with strangers, and did not pay so much attention to his namesake as Junior had been led to expect. You see, everyone in this tyrant’s kingdom worshipped him, and Junior assumed that his father would follow conventions. For every night before he went to sleep his father’s name had invariably been mentioned first in the list of people and animals and playthings that loved him.
Junior, though quite small, was a great lover and much given to kissing. On momentous occasions, such as the start for the picnic the day after his father’s arrival, Junior manifested his excitement by hugging and kissing everybody in sight, including the dogs. It was his earliest form of selfexpression. His father, as it happened, was absorbed in packing the tea basket and had never been accustomed to being kissed while packing in camp. Besides, Junior had been helping his mother prepare the luncheon. That is, he had taken a hand in the distribution of guava jelly, and there was just one hardship in the life of this immaculate mining engineer he could never endure—sticky fingers. But Junior had not yet learned that, and so, taking advantage of his father’s kneeling posture, he tackled him around the neck and indulged in passionate osculation.
“Call your child off,” said Phil to Nell. She laughed.
“Come, precious, don’t bore your father.”
Junior did not know what that new word “bore” meant, but he released his father and transferred his demonstration to his mother. She never seemed to get too much and did not object to sweet fingers.
“Mamma,” said Junior as they started off in the car, “I don’t believe that man in front likes me.”
“He adores you, darling; he’s your father.”
Well, it sounded reasonable, but he remembered the new word. That evening when they came home the dogs, not having been allowed to go on the picnic, thought it was their turn and jumped up on Phil with muddy paws. Junior took command of the situation and of the new word.