But I can't submit to hear the wellearned reputation of my friend termed an 'infamous notoriety. 255 “You have a very talented son,” was her opening line. She crept behind the open door and pounced on him when he came out of the bathroom, knocking him onto the floor with a loud thud. Sometimes a whole morning would pass without Spurlock uttering a word beyond the request for a drink of water. They want some fun, and there isn't any. This was his sister, evidently in the last extremity. The sing-song girl, her fiddle broken, was beating her forehead upon the floor and wailing: Ai, ai! Ai, ai! Spurlock—or Taber, as he called himself—sat slumped in a chair, staring with glazed eyes at nothing, absolutely uninterested in the confusion for which he was primarily accountable. “Until a girl can go away as a son does and earn her independent income, she’s still on a string.
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