488
PARTISAN RE V IEW
Two wars had passed Elwin by. For one he was too young, for
the other too old, though by no means, of course, old. Had it not been
for the war, and the consideration of age it so ruthlessly raised, the
recollection of the sentence from Hazlitt would no doubt have been
delayed by several years, and so too would the impulse to which it had
given rise, the desire to have "wisdom." More and more in the last
few months, Elwin had been able to experience the sensation of
being wise, for it was indeed a sensation, a feeling of stamina, poise
and illumination.
He was puzzled and unhappy as he "alighted" from the bus at
92nd Street. It seemed to him a great failure that his knowledge of
death and his having reached the years of wisdom-they were the
same thing- had not prevented him from feeling anger at an old
man and a boy. It then occurred to him to think that perhaps he had
felt his anger not in despite of wisdom but because of it. It was a dis–
turbing, even a horrifying, fancy. Yet as he walked the two blocks to
his home, he could not help recurring to it, with what was, as he had
to see,
a
certain gratification.
In his pleasant living-room, in his comfortable chair, Stephen
Elwin watched his daughter as she mixed the drink he usually had
before dinner. She was thirteen. About a month ago she had made
this her job, almost her duty, and she performed it with an unspeak–
able seriousness. She measured out the whiskey and poured it into
the tumbler. With the ice-tongs she reached the ice gently into the bot–
tom of the glass so that there would not be the least splash of whiskey.
She opened the bottle of soda. Holding up the glass for her father's
inspection, she poured the soda slowly, ready to stop at her father's
word. Elwin cried "Whoa!" and at the word he thought that his
daughter had reached the stage of her growth where she did indeed
look like a well-bred pony.
Now Margaret was searching for the stirring-spoon. But she had
forgotten to put it on the tray with all the other paraphernalia and
she gave a little cry of vexation and went to fetch it. Elwin did not
tell her not to bother, that it did not matter if the drink was not stir–
red. He understood that this business had to proceed with a cere–
monial completeness.
Margaret returned with the stirring-spoon. She stirred the high–
ball and the soda foamed up. She waited until it subsided, mean–
while shaking the spoon dry over the glass with three precise little
shakes. She handed her father the drink and put a coaster on the
table by his chair. She watched while he took
hi~
first sip. He had
taken the whole responsibility for the proportion of soda to whiskey.
