jr.: it made him a politician. According to Daddy, nobody had imagined there was a politician inside of Wallace Amory waiting to get out. But there was, Daddy said. And it got out, Daddy said. He said the mayor made two speeches right off that seemed to put his career on the wing, one to the Ladies Garden Society and the other to the Neely chapter of the D.A.R. Each address was received with a riotous ovation which the mayor attributed to his political bravado, but Momma said the ladies were most likely applauding his beauty, his grace, and his fine tailored suit. She imagined very few of them had even heard the mayor. It seems he had been talking water bonds.
And that’s the way it went, Daddy said. Wallace Amory would give a politician’s speech and get a Pettigrew’s reception. He got up before the Methodist Men’s Association, and the Neely Cotillion, and the Rotary Club, and the Businessmen’s Council and was uniformly met with wild enthusiasm, which Daddy said was nothing more than overblown courtesy but which the mayor took to calling his “endorsement by the good people of this fine community.” And Daddy said Wallace Amory jr. became almost entirely unbearable. He said Neely wanted a mayor who made delightful conversation and danced divinely, not a political advocate. But Wallace Amory was burning to be an advocate, Daddy said, and he did not want to be delightful or divine, just earnest, deadly earnest. Daddy said it got to where the mayor would not talk anything but what he called Brass Tacks. Folks just have to tighten their belts, he would say. We have to take the good with the bad, he would say. The little man can’t hardly make it, he would say. Prosperity is just around the corner, he would say. Daddy said the mayor had grown particularly fond of this last one and could make it ring most impressively.
So he went off to Raleigh and represented us at conferences and political gatherings of every sort, and Daddy said the Chronicle would frequently run photographs of the mayor holding forth on taxes or leash laws or what Daddy called the general proximity of prosperity. And sometimes him and Momma would discover Wallace Amory jr. and Miss Pettigrew on the inside of the Greensboro Daily News where they had been caught posing at a fund-raising dinner or taking the dance floor at a political ball. Momma said Miss Pettigrew made a radiant picture, but the mayor always looked a little bothered. Daddy called that Wallace Amory’s camera face. He said it wasn’t exactly “bothered” the mayor was after but something more like “upstanding” or “concerned.” Daddy said it was just the mayor’s way of wearing his civic conscience between his ears so as to get it into the picture.
Of course we elected him to a second term of office. Momma said it was the decent thing to do, and Daddy said it was merely a serving up of justice, the only proper answer to the mayor having campaigned so untiringly throughout the four years of his first term; according to Daddy the natives of Neely are blessed with a keen sense of this sort of even-handedness. So the mayor got his second endorsement by the good people of this fine community and Daddy said he did a remarkable thing, probably by way of celebration: he bought Miss Myra Angelique a monkey. Momma said she didn’t know Miss Pettigrew was lonesome for a pet and she didn’t imagine Miss Myra Angelique had ever expressed a desire for a monkey, but Daddy said it could have happened one evening when the mayor came home to the supper table after a long day of belt tightening and taking the good with the bad. He supposed Miss Pettigrew might have leaned over the sugar bowl and said, “Mayor,” which Daddy said was all she ever called him anymore, “I’d be pleased to have a chimpanzee.” And Daddy supposed the mayor frumped himself up a little and muddied his expression some and said, “Sister darling, your chimpanzee is just around the corner.”
“Louis!”
And that’s the way it went, Daddy said. Wallace Amory would give a politician’s speech and get a Pettigrew’s reception. He got up before the Methodist Men’s Association, and the Neely Cotillion, and the Rotary Club, and the Businessmen’s Council and was uniformly met with wild enthusiasm, which Daddy said was nothing more than overblown courtesy but which the mayor took to calling his “endorsement by the good people of this fine community.” And Daddy said Wallace Amory jr. became almost entirely unbearable. He said Neely wanted a mayor who made delightful conversation and danced divinely, not a political advocate. But Wallace Amory was burning to be an advocate, Daddy said, and he did not want to be delightful or divine, just earnest, deadly earnest. Daddy said it got to where the mayor would not talk anything but what he called Brass Tacks. Folks just have to tighten their belts, he would say. We have to take the good with the bad, he would say. The little man can’t hardly make it, he would say. Prosperity is just around the corner, he would say. Daddy said the mayor had grown particularly fond of this last one and could make it ring most impressively.
So he went off to Raleigh and represented us at conferences and political gatherings of every sort, and Daddy said the Chronicle would frequently run photographs of the mayor holding forth on taxes or leash laws or what Daddy called the general proximity of prosperity. And sometimes him and Momma would discover Wallace Amory jr. and Miss Pettigrew on the inside of the Greensboro Daily News where they had been caught posing at a fund-raising dinner or taking the dance floor at a political ball. Momma said Miss Pettigrew made a radiant picture, but the mayor always looked a little bothered. Daddy called that Wallace Amory’s camera face. He said it wasn’t exactly “bothered” the mayor was after but something more like “upstanding” or “concerned.” Daddy said it was just the mayor’s way of wearing his civic conscience between his ears so as to get it into the picture.
Of course we elected him to a second term of office. Momma said it was the decent thing to do, and Daddy said it was merely a serving up of justice, the only proper answer to the mayor having campaigned so untiringly throughout the four years of his first term; according to Daddy the natives of Neely are blessed with a keen sense of this sort of even-handedness. So the mayor got his second endorsement by the good people of this fine community and Daddy said he did a remarkable thing, probably by way of celebration: he bought Miss Myra Angelique a monkey. Momma said she didn’t know Miss Pettigrew was lonesome for a pet and she didn’t imagine Miss Myra Angelique had ever expressed a desire for a monkey, but Daddy said it could have happened one evening when the mayor came home to the supper table after a long day of belt tightening and taking the good with the bad. He supposed Miss Pettigrew might have leaned over the sugar bowl and said, “Mayor,” which Daddy said was all she ever called him anymore, “I’d be pleased to have a chimpanzee.” And Daddy supposed the mayor frumped himself up a little and muddied his expression some and said, “Sister darling, your chimpanzee is just around the corner.”
“Louis!”
Similar Books
