Go to Sleep, My Darling
By WINSTON K. MARKS
If you're totally convinced
it's a man's world, don't
read this. But if in doubt....
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Infinity November 1958.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
At 46, Bertrand Baxter was a man's man, still struggling to adapt himself to a smotheringly woman's world. His work, selling sporting goods for Abernathy and Crisp Co., was his element. Not only was he an ex-All American tackle, but his abiding love for sports had led him into a business where he dealt almost exclusively with men.
Old Crisp had once told him, "Bert, if we had two more salesmen like you we could fire the other twenty. You have a sixth sense dealing with these coaches and school superintendents. They love you."
Yes, Bert Baxter could anticipate his male customer's requirements, objections, moods and buying habits with an almost clairvoyant insight. But give him a woman! He was licked before she opened his catalog.
Women found him attractive enough. His six-foot-four, square-jawed athletic prowess had given him the pick of the class of '29, including the statuesque Rolanda. But to marry a woman and to understand her were different matters: the former ridiculously easy, the latter bewilderingly impossible.
The easy familiarity he enjoyed with men of the slightest acquaintance was something he could never establish in his own home with his own wife and his own daughters. Fate, as if to further confound him, had presented Bertrand with four daughters.