Belles on their Toes

Only something with alcohol in it explodes. I don't think it's safe in here."
    She opened the door to the hall, and an unmistakable aroma of alcohol permeated the dining room.
    "So you've even let your children do that, have you?" she called over her shoulder as she went to get her wraps. She grabbed them and started for the front door. "I'm going to write your mother about you, Lillie Gilbreth."
    The door slammed and two more bottles exploded. We heard gravel spatter as the limousine rolled out of the driveway.
    Mother was simply furious. Psychologist and doctor of philosophy she might be. But now, just for once, both her psychology and her philosophy deserted her.
    "Let her go ahead and write her, then," Mother mumbled. "See if I care. My folks have more sense than to believe anything like that. Let her go ahead and write a whole book. See if I care."
    "Don't let her upset you, Ma'am," said Tom. "She ain't nothing but a fat old snoop."
    "Fat old snoop," Mother repeated, as if that was what she had been looking for. "Fat old..." She glared at Tom, who started nervously dealing out the blanc-mange.
    "Let's hear from you," she said, and we had never heard her talk like that before. "Where did that alcohol smell come from?"
    "All right, Ma'am," Tom conceded, and he was gaping like the rest of us. "It must have been one of them bottles I put prunes in. Just to change the flavor of course."
    She asked Tom to step into the kitchen with her. She closed the door behind her, but we could hear the rise and fall of her voice. And then we heard Tom sob, and go up the back steps toward the attic, where his room was.
    When Mother returned, she was pale and shaking. She wasn't furious any more.
    "I had to do it," she told us. "I had to let him go. I know how you feel about him, but that's simply the last straw. I have enough on my mind, when I leave you children alone, without worrying about something like that."
    No one felt much like eating dessert, or talking. We knew it was Mother's decision to make, and we didn't blame her. But we thought there'd be an empty place in the house without Tom.
    He didn't have many things to pack, and pretty soon we heard him come down stairs again, and then descend into the basement.
    Mother looked around the table miserably, but we avoided her glance.
    "I told him to get rid of the bottles with the prunes in them, before he left," she explained.
    We still didn't say anything.
    "After he gets rid of the bottles," Mother sighed, "you go down there, Frank, and ask him if he wants his job back. Tell him that, just this once, I changed my mind."

18

MARCH ON WASHINGTON

    Within the next few years, Mother became accepted as an industrial engineer, and motion study began to play an increasingly important part in the mass production of the Twenties.
    The fight had been uphill, but many of Dad's former clients—and a good many new clients—finally had conceded that Mother knew her business, and had hired her firm as a consultant. The family finances, while not in a state of great prosperity, were immeasurably improved. Mother still rode in buses and upper berths. But she was able to start paying off her debts and to make a dent in the mortgage on the house.
    Mother's goal of sending all of us through college now seemed more than just a possibility. Martha was enrolled at New Jersey State College for Women, and Frank was at the University of Michigan. That meant there were only Bill, Lillian, Fred, Dan, Jack, Bob, and Jane to usher into the halls of higher learning. Mother was sure it was going to be a breeze.
    While Mother's nose was healing, she had started Writing The Home Maker and Her Job, published in 1927. Living With Our Children was published the following year. She continued to teach her Motion Study Course, served on the New Jersey State Board of Regents, and was a delegate to the World Power Congress in Tokyo.
    She also became a Girl Scout.
    Mrs. Herbert Hoover was responsible for Mother's original interest in scouting. Mother had known the Hoovers for a good many years; socially, since they were fellow Californians, and professionally, since Mr. Hoover was an engineer.
    After Mr. Hoover was inaugurated president, Mother sometimes visited them in Washington and at their fishing camp on the Rapidan River. Mr. Hoover appointed her to his national advisory committee on employment. And Mrs. Hoover, who was national president of the Girl Scouts, wanted her to head up the personnel division of