THE PACE OF YOUTH
I
Stimson stood in a corner and glowered. He was a fierce man and had indomitable whiskers, albeit he was very small.
“That young tarrier,” he whispered to himself. “He wants to quit makin’ eyes at Lizzie. This is too much of a good thing. First thing you know, he’ll get fired.”
His brow creased in a frown, he strode over to the huge open doors and looked at a sign. “Stimson’s Mammoth Merry-Go-Round,” it read, and the glory of it was great. Stimson stood and contemplated the sign. It was an enormous affair; the letters were as large as men. The glow of it, the grandeur of it was very apparent to Stimson. At the end of his contemplation, he shook his head thoughtfully, determinedly. “No, no,” he muttered. “This is too much of a good thing. First thing you know, he’ll g
