62
PARTISAN REVIEW
"Will you, Gilbert the Filbert?" he enquired.
"No," said Gilbert.
"But Grandmother
wzll!"
said Uncle Morgan gravely. "Grand–
mother, get down from your chair!" She slipped off her chair and
leaned over the seat, her face already working; but she did not dare to
cry yet.
"Morgan, don't be so stupid," said Beatrix.
"I mean it," he said instantly, "Trixie, I am training the child to
obey, I know what I am doing. Leave it to me."
She waited.
"Grandmother, go to the grate."
She tottered away from the chair, looked at her mother; she was
crying now, but not loudly.
"Go to the grate and stand in front of the fire."
She did so.
Her mother looked at her and said gently, "Don't cry, my lamb.
It's only fun."
"Grandmother," said Uncle Morgan, "this is one of the most
serious moments ofyour life . You are now learning something that will
affect your whole life."
"Morgan," burst out Beatrix, "how can you tease the baby?"
"Grandmother is not a baby," said Morgan. "Grandmother! Put
your hand in the fire."
She was sobbing loudly now, but she bent forward slowly and
held out her pudgy hand with one fat finger advanced.
A thunderbolt tore into the room from the kitchen, the curtains
blew about. Aunt Mildred, blazing black fury, was there.
"Morgan," she shoutec;l, "how dare you tease the children!"
Uncle Morgan lifted the milk jug off the table and with a sweet
laugh, parting his lips and showing many of his white teeth, he made
as if to hurl the jug at Mildred.
"Let's see if I can land it right on her nose," said he.
Aunt Mildred rushed forward and Aunt Beatrix rose to her feet.
There was confusion. Morgan sat there, sanguine, grinning. "Down,
women!" said he, putting down the milk jug.
"You see," he remarked in a pathetic, gentle tone to the chil–
dren, "when a child is getting social training, when its character is
being formed, the women interfere and ruin its character. Now my
