He began discussing another drink. "Of one thing I'm resolved: my son shall not suffer as I have suffered. I did not send him to West Point so he might win decorations on the field of valor and then be shunted off to sit behind an unsoldierly desk. I broke with tradition when I kept him from a military career, quite on purpose, just as I was thinking of his welfare and not some silly foible of my own when I called him by the simplest name I could find."
"What is your son's name?" I was constrained to ask.
"George," he answered proudly, "George Thario. There is no nickname for George as far as I know."
"And he's not in the army now?" I queried, more in politeness than interest.
"No, and I don't intend he shall be." The general's pink face grew pinker with his vehemence. "Albert, there a
