IV
President Willis Ijams began that Boosters' Club luncheon
by standing quiet and staring at them so unhappily that they
feared he was about to announce the death of a Brother
Booster. He spoke slowly then, and gravely:
"Boys, I have something shocking to reveal to you; something
terrible about one of our own members.''
Several Boosters, including Babbitt, looked disconcerted.
"A knight of the grip, a trusted friend of mine, recently
made a trip up-state, and in a certain town, where a certain
Booster spent his boyhood, he found out something which can
no longer be concealed. In fact, he discovered the inward
nature of a man whom we have accepted as a Real Guy and as
one of us. Gentlemen, I cannot trust my voice to say it, so
I have written it down.''
He uncovered a large blackboard and on it, in huge capitals,
was the legend:
George Follansbee Babbitt—oh you Folly!
The Boosters cheered, they laughed, they wept, they threw
rolls at Babbitt, they cried, "Speech, speech! Oh you Folly!''
President Ijams continued:
"That, gentlemen, is the awful thing Georgie Babbitt has
been concealing all these years, when we thought he was just
plain George F. Now I want you to tell us, taking it in turn,
what you've always supposed the F. stood for.''
Flivver, they suggested, and Frog-face and Flathead and
Farinaceous and Freezone and Flapdoodle and Foghorn. By
the joviality of their insults Babbitt knew that he had been
taken back to their hearts, and happily he rose.
"Boys, I've got to admit it. I've never worn a wrist-watch,
or parted my name in the middle, but I will confess to `Follansbee.'
My only justification is that my old dad—though
otherwise he was perfectly sane, and packed an awful wallop
when it came to trimming the City Fellers at checkers—named
me after the family doc, old Dr. Ambrose Follansbee. I apologize,
boys. In my next what-d'you-call-it I'll see to it that
I get named something really practical—something that sounds
swell and yet is good and virile—something, in fact, like that
grand old name so familiar to every household—that bold and
almost overpowering name, Willis Jimjams Ijams!''
He knew by the cheer that he was secure again and popular;
he knew that he would no more endanger his security and
popularity by straying from the Clan of Good Fellows.
