BOBBIE, GENERAL MANAGER
BOBBIE
GENERAL MANAGER
A NOVEL
BY
OLIVE HIGGINS PROUTY
GROSSET & DUNLAP
PUBLISHERS :: NEW YORK
Copyright, 1913, by
Frederick A. Stokes Company
All rights reserved including that of translation into foreign
languages, including the Scandinavian.
TENTH PRINTING
TO
THE MEMORY OF
MY FATHER
CHAPTER I
I AM a junior in the H.C.H.S., which stands forHilton Classical High School, and am sixteenyears old. I live in a big brown house at number 240Main Street, and my father is a state senator in Boston.I am a member of the First CongregationalChurch, which I joined when I was thirteen, and amcaptain of the basket-ball team at the high school. Ihave travelled as far east as Revere Beach, as farwest as the Hoosac Tunnel, on my way to Aunt Ella'sfuneral in Adams, and as far south as New London,Connecticut, where I watched my oldest brother Tomrow in a perfectly stunning eight-oared boat-race onthe Thames. I haven't been north at all. I have hadsix diseases, including scarlet fever and typhoid, withwhich I almost died last year, and as a result of whicham now wearing my hair as short as a child with aDutch-cut.
I am not pretty, nor a bit popular with the boys. Ican't play the piano, and I never went to dancing-schoolin my life. Most of my clothes are as ugly as mud, forI haven't any mother; and my hair has always been asstraight as a stick. They say that the kink that hasappeared in it since the typhoid won't last but a littlewhile, so it isn't much comfort. In fact, the only realconsolation that I have is a secret conviction which Ikeep well concealed in the innermost compartment of[2]my heart. No one knows of its existence except myself,and I wouldn't be the one to tell of it for anythingin the world. It is on account of it, however,that I am writing the experiences of my early life. Ioften think how valuable it would have been if WilliamShakespeare had told us about his school-daysor Julius Caesar had described his family and whatthey used to do when he was a boy of fifteen. Ofcourse I may not be a genius; but facts point that way.I hate mathematics, my imagination is vivid, my lifeis difficult and full of obstacles, and my handwritingillegible. My Themes are generally read out loud inEnglish, and my quarterly deportment mark is frightfullylow. Moreover, if I am not a genius I shall beawfully disappointed. Why, I think I should ratherbe a genius than to go to a College Prom. It makeseverything so bearable, from a flunk in geometry, tonot being invited to Bessie Jaynes' birthday-party lastweek.
My life has not been an easy one. Ever since Ican remember I have been the mother of five children—twoof them older and three younger than myself.They all call me Bobbie for short, but my real nameis Lucy Chenery Vars.
Our house is a big ugly brown aff