Only a Crazy Man Has Daughters

by JAMES YAFFE

WHEN a father has a complaint to make about his son, all he has to do is take the boy aside and yell at him: —

“What do you mean by getting home at three o’clock in the morning? Your mother was worried to death!”

“Twenty bucks? You want twenty bucks? My God, the way you spend my money, you could be the United States government.”

“A car of your own? Listen to him, will you? He’s still wet behind the ears, and he wants a car of his own! ”

This is the sort of thing that goes on every day. Sarcasm, grumbling, out-and-out rage—how else should a father in this modern world express his affection and concern for his own son?

But between a father and his daughter it isn’t so easy. Because a father can’t yell at his daughter, or wave his fist at her threateningly, or call her a good-for-nothing. More than one father has, of course. But he usually ends up with a terrible feeling of guilt over it. And then, when she smiles up at him and puts her hands on his shoulders and murmurs that pet name which he’s always been a sucker for, the most determined father in the world is as helpless as a baby.

Such was the case with Dan Waxman. His daughter Barbara — Bobby he called her, this was his favorite nickname for a girl—was his only child. Ever since she was old enough to cry or flutter her eyelashes, she had very little trouble getting her way with him. But she more than paid him back for this. When she was little she paid him back in laughter and high spirits, in showing him how much she enjoyed her life. “Sarah,” he used to say to his wife, “what are we bringing up in this household, a little girl or a wild Indian?” “A wild Indian!” Bobby used to shout out gleefully, and jump around the living room giving war whoops.

And now that she was almost grown up, she paid him back in quieter, more ladylike ways. She told him her secrets, the ones she wanted him to hear. She asked his opinion of her clothes and her hairdos. She even laughed at his jokes. Not out of diplomacy either, but heartily and spontaneously, because she thought they were funny and she liked to see him in a good mood.

He hated it, absolutely hated if, when he had to be mad at her. Last year, for instance. . . .

“It’s not normal,” Dan said. “Frankly, I don’t understand it. It just isn’t something that a normal human being would do. ”

“She isn’t a normal human being,” Sarah said. “She’s a member of the younger generation, and we’re simply her parents. It’s not our business to understand what she does.”

“That’s supposed to be an answer? That’s the silliest thing I ever heard. By that reasoning, when she was two years old and threw her cereal across the room, we should’ve kissed her and given her another bowl and told her to do it again.”

“It’s not the same thing, dear. Bobby is grown up now.”

“Who says she’s grown up? Twenty years old, since when is that grown up? And look at all the experience of life she’s got. Two and a half years at Vassar College — very grown up. Answer me just one thing. If she was so grown up, why would she do a crazy thing like this? Thanksgiving dinner — her own family that she hasn’t seen for two months — and she’s ‘terribly sorry,’she ‘hates to eat and run,’but she ‘just happens to have this early date.’ Early dates! All of a sudden our daughter has early dates on Thanksgiving.”

“It’s her life, Dan. She’s capable of making her own decisions.”

“Then why did she make this decision? There’s the proof of what I’m saying. She isn’t capable of blowing her nose.”

It was after ten o’clock on Thanksgiving night. Dinner was over a long time ago, and the family, Sarah’s sisters and brothers and nieces and nephews and in-laws and so on, all of them stuffed and puffing and red in the face, had straggled out to the air and their own homes. Behind them, in Dan’s duplex apartment on Park Avenue, they left a trail of empty plates and full ash trays. It was in the midst of this debris that Dan and Sarah had their talk.

And still later, with the debris cleared up and the living room no more rumpled than usual, Dan continued to sit with an angry look on his face, and wait up for his daughter to come home. Sarah tried to persuade him not to do this. “We don’t want her to think we don’t trust her,” Sarah said. But Dan just grunted and said, “Why not? It’s the truth.”

Even after twenty-four years of dealing with Dan’s temper and smoothing down Dan’s feelings, Sarah hadn’t learned the secret of making him do something he didn’t want to do.

Finally, around midnight, she moved around the room, emptying out ash trays, then stood for a moment in the archway. “Don’t say anything you don’t really mean, dear" were her last words before she went up to bed.

2

FOR the next hour and a half Dan sat and chewed a cigar —or paced up and down and chewed a cigar. Finally, he heard Bobby’s key in the front door. For a second he got a little flustered. It occurred to him suddenly, for the first time, that Bobby’s new boy—this mysterious boy that nobody had ever seen or knew anything about, except that he could drag her away from her own family on Thanksgiving — might be with her now. Dan didn’t know whether he should step out to the foyer and announce himself quick, or hunch down in his chair and keep very quiet. Before he could decide, the front door had opened and shut, and it was clear that Bobby was alone.

“Who’s there?” came her voice. And then she was in the room with him, smiling, her face a little flushed. “Daddy, you didn’t have to wait up.”

“Who waited up? I was reading a detective story, and I lost track of the time.”

“You and your detective stories.” Bobby said it lightly and fondly, with maybe the smallest shade of superiority in her voice. Since she started going to Vassar, she had become just a little bit of an intellectual.

“Did you enjoy yourself tonight?” Dan said, trying to keep the gruffness out of his voice, and knowing he couldn’t do it.

“Oh, I had a nice time,” she said, in an offhand way. Three years ago she would have cried out ”I had a marvelous time!” But that was another thing Vassar had taught her—the naïveté and immaturity of expressing enthusiasm.

“Where did you go? What did you do?”

“Oh, we went to lots of places. We made the usual tour of the Village.”Bobby yawned delicately, and patted her mouth even more delicately. “Well, I’ll see you in the morning, darling.” She gave him a quick kiss on the forehead, then started to the archway.

“Wait a second, what’s the big hurry?” Dan said, raising his voice a little. “Join me in a nightcap, why don’t you? Then we can go upstairs together.”

“I really am tired —”

But Dan couldn’t just let her run off like this. He couldn’t just go through the whole night with this thing on his mind. “It’ll only be a quick one,” he said, leaning forward a little and putting more urgency into his voice than he really wanted to.

Bobby hesitated a moment, then she smiled and nodded. “All right, just a quick one.”

Dan was on his feet immediately, butling up to the liquor cabinet, making the drinks with a great deal of excess motion, calling out very professionally, “Scotch is what you like, isn’t it? I seem to remember your drink is Scotch.” A few minutes later he was back in his easy chair again, and they both had glasses in their hands, and they were facing each other across the room.

“Yon ran out of here pretty quick after dinner tonight,” Dan said finally. “This date of yours must’ve been pretty special.”

“No, no, nothing special.” Bobby sipped her liquor.

“What’s his name, this fellow who’s nothing special?”

“ You’ve never heard of him, Daddy. He doesn’t come from New York.”

“ People don’t have names outside of New York? ”

“Of course they do. What I mean is, his name won’t have any particular significance to you.”

“All right then, if it’s so insignificant why not tell it to me? Why make such a big mystery out of it?”

“I’m not making a mystery, Daddy. His name is Harvey Harris.”

Dan’s eyes narrowed a little. “Jewish boy?”

“As a matter of fact, he is. Not that it really matters.”

“If he isn’t from New York, where is he from?”

“He’s from Ohio. Beewick, Ohio—that’s a small town right near Cincinnati.”

“And what’s he doing so far away from home? Does he go to college here in the city?”

“Oh no. Harvey doesn’t go to college. As a matter of fact, I don’t think he’s ever been to college. He’s working now. He’s in business with his older brother, and he’s in New York now to sell things.”

“In business.” Dan’s belligerence eased up a little when he heard this. How mysterious could this Harvey Harris be, if he was in business? “ What kind of business is he in?”

“Well—” Bobby laughed, “it isn’t very romantic, I’m afraid. He makes soap. That is, his brother is in charge of making it, and Harvey spends most of his time trying to sell it. It’s a small business still, but I guess they’re doing very well.”

“Soap.” Dan thought it over a moment, then nodded his head, and even smiled a little. “ What’s wrong with the soap business? I was reading an article the other day, where it said that the United States of America uses one and a half times more soap daily per person than any other country in the world, except Switzerland.” Dan could feel himself getting more genial every moment. He leaned back in his seat and actually enjoyed his next mouthful of liquor. “How did you meet him, this young soap magnate? I thought you only got to meet a lot of crazy college kids with nothing on their minds but crew haircuts.”

“ Daddy, you’ve got such funny ideas about your own daughter. After all these years you should know that I don’t care for that type any more than you do. Harvey was in Poughkeepsie on business, and he happened to go to one of the Vassar dances, and I realized right away that he was superior to the other boys.”

And now, for the first time, there was a definite note of enthusiasm in her voice. And with it, the enthusiasm went right out of Dan’s voice. He went on, full of suspicion, “How come he didn’t pick you up at the apartment tonight, this fellow? Were you afraid to let us get a look at him?”

“Now you know that wasn’t the reason. Harvey was busy with some buyers for cocktails, and he thought it would save time if I met him right at the restaurant.”

“You went to the restaurant by yourself and waited for him there?”

“He was waiting for me, Daddy. Harvey is always on time, wherever he goes.”

“And how come he didn’t bring you home tonight?”

“He did bring me home. He let me off downstairs, in his car.”

Dan grunted. He had a dissatisfied feeling. He felt that there were a lot of things he wanted to ask about this Harvey Harris, only he couldn’t seem to think of them at the moment. And then, there was one big thing that he could think of at the moment — “How do you feel about this boy? Do you like him a lot? Do you like him particularly?” This was the question that popped into his head whenever Bobby went out on a date nowadays— and it was just the question that he could never bring himself to ask.

And then Bobby’s voice was breaking into his thoughts. “I’m through with my quick one, Daddy. It’s really awfully late.”

Dan looked at her a moment longer. Then he nodded and got to his feet. “Yes. Sure. You’re right.”

They went up the stairs together. They kissed on the second-floor landing, and Dan turned towards the door of his bedroom. Then he stopped himself and turned back to Bobby. “I’d like to meet him, this boy. That is — if you’re planning to see him again. If you’re not, don’t bother—”

“Of course you can meet him, darling. He’ll be picking me up for dinner tomorrow night.” Then she blew him a kiss and disappeared into her room.

Dan woke Sarah up and told her about it. Two nights in a row, he told her. And there were only three nights for her vacation. Didn’t it look strange? Was it possible that something was up? What was Sarah’s opinion? And when Sarah answered that she didn’t have any opinion at all, Dan snorted and grunted and muttered irritably, “No opinion. She’s your own daughter, isn’t she? My God. you should have an opinion.”And so, in five or ten minutes, he had muttered himself to sleep.

3

THE way he fidgeted the next evening, before this Harvey Harris arrived, you’d think he was expecting somebody really important. You’d think a famous celebrity was coming, or an important client, instead of a nebbish little soap salesman from Nowhere, Ohio.

The first sight of Harvey Harris was a surprise. Whatever Dan may have been expecting, he certainly didn’t expect a man in his thirties, a man at least twelve years older than Bobby was. He was tall and round-shouldered, with a long face and square rimless eyeglasses and a sort of fishy white complexion. When Bobby rushed up to him in the living-room archway, he patted her hand a little, and looked down at her with a thin smile, and said, “How are you this evening, Barbara?” And right away, there was something about the way he said it. It was almost like a teacher giving a lesson to one of his pupils. It was almost as if —not in so many words, but strictly through the formal dignified tone of his voice—he were criticizing Bobby for showing how glad she was to see him.

And it made Dan wince a little, to see how Bobby herself seemed to get the point. She blushed, and then right away she made her face serious and dignified too. And as she introduced her guest to her parents, Dan couldn’t miss the nervous, uncertain looks that she kept stealing at him, to see if she was doing all right and if he approved of her manners.

But now this Harvey Harris was standing right in front of Dan, holding out his hand. “How are you, Mr. Waxman? I’ve been looking forward to meeting you. Barbara has told me so much about you.”

Dan gave a grunt—the restrained, slightly sour grunt that he reserved for people who told him how much they’d been “looking forward" to meeting him. Then this Harvey Harris began to shake his hand — that is, he touched Dan’s fingers, and applied a sort of flabby pressure, and pulled his hand away again leaving a wet clammy feeling behind.

As secretly as possible, Dan reached into his pocket and wiped his fingers on his handkerchief. Then he put on a smile and tried to be hearty. “So how about a drink?” he said. “Scotch, rye, Canadian Club — a little sherry maybe? We’ve got a complete selection here at the Waxman Bar.”

“No thank you, Mr. Waxman,” Harvey Harris said, smiling his thin smile and shaking his head. “The truth is, I never drink, except when business requires it of me. I believe in keeping my mind clear.”

“Harvey says that he went through that stage when he was a boy in high school,”Bobby put in, that same look of admiration in her eyes. “Now he’s grown out of it.”

Dan laughed a little uneasily. “Well, as one who hasn’t grown out of it yet — you don’t mind, I hope, if I—” He cut himself short and hurried over to the liquor cabinet.

“By all means, Mr. Waxman,” said Harvey Harris. “I certainly don’t mean to impose my own little ways of doing things on anybody else. I believe in tolerance and broad-mindedness, if I believe in anything.” Then he cleared his throat and added, “Besides, Barbara and I really must be going along.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like to stay for dinner?” Sarah said. “We’ve really got plenty.”

“No, no, thank you so much, Mrs. Waxman,” Harvey Harris said, once again shaking his head. “We have our plans all made.”

“You wouldn’t be interfering with anything,” Sarah said. “Mr. Waxman and I were just going to spend a quiet evening at home. We could all have a game of bridge.”

“Very kind of you, Mrs. Waxman.” Harvey Harris pursed his lips together, and seemed to be smiling at some sort of private little joke. “But the truth is, I’ve never acquired the taste for playing cards. I was a poor boy, as Barbara may have told you, and I’ve had to work very hard all my life. I never had time to play games, like people who were born with silver spoons in their mouths.”

Bobby was looking at him all through this speech. And her eyes were sparkling. With pride and admiration they were sparkling. Dan could see it, and it made his stomach feel funny. “Harvey is a self-made man,” Bobby said, still not taking her eyes from him. “He never had any of the advantages. He’s worked himself up from the bottom.”

“Well, I admire that,” Dan said. “I’m a selfmade man myself. Only it seems to me, a young fellow could enjoy himself too — ”

Harvey Harris gave a laugh — another one of those satisfied schoolteacher laughs. “When I get to be your age, Mr. Waxman, I’ll be able to afford to enjoy myself.”Then without waiting for Dan to answer him, he turned to Bobby: “It’s really getting very late, Barbara. I’m not sure they’ll hold our reservations. And I don’t want to make a bad impression, because I take so many buyers to eat there.”

“Yes, of course, Harvey,” Bobby said, and she looked terribly concerned and worried for a moment.

Then Harvey Harris said good night, and how pleased he was to meet them, and how pleased he would be to see them again — and Dan got another handful of moisture. And then Bobby kissed him quickly on the cheek and said, “Good-by, Daddy.” And obviously her mind was a thousand miles away. And so, the young couple was gone.

4

DAN did a lot of talking about them after they left. The fact is, he hardly talked about anything else for the rest of the night. “What does she see in him?” he kept saying. “I don’t get it, I just don’t get it. A young, healthy, lively girl like Bobby — how can she go on with a fellow like that? He’s old. A regular old man.”

“He’s only thirty-two, Dan,” Sarah said. “Twelve years difference isn’t so much nowadays. Look at my sister Nellie.”

“ You look at your sister Nellie. I’m not talking about years — years is bad enough, God knows, but I’m talking about the way he acts. The way he talks. The kind of fellow he is. Old! Like he hasn’t been a young man for years and years.”

“Well—” Sarah wavered a little, different feelings struggling with one another on her face, “at least he’s mature and steady. That’s a great deal in this world.”

“Mature and steady. How many girls do I know of, lively good-natured girls like Bobby, who got married to these mature steady old men, these mature steady cold fish — and look what happened to them, look what they got turned into in a few years. Dishrags. Squeezed-out old dishrags. My own brother Herman is a man like that — my own brother. God forgive me for saying it — look what poor little Doris was like before he married her, and look what she was like the day she died.”

“You’re exaggerating,” Sarah said, with a little laugh. “There isn’t going to be any marrying. She’s only going out with the boy.”

“There better not be!” Dan cried, with a sweep of his arm. “Marry that stuffed shirt! I’d just like to see her try it — I’d come down on that so hard that they wouldn’t know what hit them. Self-made man, is he? All my life I’ve had an admiration for self-made men — all my life I’ve been proud of the fact that I myself am a self-made man. And now, after two minutes listening to that stuffed shirt , I think I’d prefer it if she brought home a lazy good-for-nothing who wanted to live off my money,”

And later in the evening, when it looked as if the subject had been dropped, he suddenly burst out with it again: “She’s too good-natured. She’s too kindhearted. I always said it, didn’t I? I always warned her, didn’t I? ‘Don’t be such a good schnook all the time,’ I said. ‘It’ll get you in trouble someday,’ I said. And now it’s happened, just like I said. This slimy little snake comes along, and gives her a story about what a poor boy he was and he never had the advantages and he’s too hardworking to enjoy a decent healthy normal game of cards—and she falls for it hook, line, and sinker, she’s all choked up and thinking what a wonderful fellow he is, and how superior he is to all the other poor dopes — and he’s got her in the palm of his hand! My poor kindhearted baby, she’s an unhappy woman for life.”

He wanted to wait up again until Bobby came home, but Sarah convinced him he shouldn’t. “It’s nothing now,” she told him. “There’s nothing to it at all. But if you keep waiting up, and pumping her with questions, and letting her know you’re upset, then you never can tell, she might start thinking seriously, you might push her right into his arms.”

Grudgingly Dan agreed, and he went up to the bedroom when Sarah did. But he couldn’t fall asleep that night, he tossed and turned until he finally heard the sound of the front door downstairs. Then he sat up in bed and switched on the light and spoke up. “I’m going down. I want to talk to her.” But Sarah sat up too, and reached out and put her hand on his arm. “Please, Dan,” she said. “Please don’t be foolish.” He glared down at her hand for a moment, then without a word he switched off the light and lay back on his pillow. And he had to grit his teeth a little to keep himself still.

And then, the next morning, just before she dashed out for a luncheon date with one of her girl friends, Bobby announced that Harvey Harris was picking her up for dinner again that night.

This was so upsetting to Dan that he didn’t even go to the club for his Saturday afternoon gin game. “The third time in a row,” he said. “Every night of her vacation, every single night — and she spends them all with him. So it isn’t serious, is it? So it’ll all blow over, will it? Tell me that again. Tell me that it isn’t serious.”

He put on a scornful belligerent expression, as if he were challenging Sarah to speak any such foolishness to him — and yet, underneath, he wanted the foolishness, he was waiting anxiously to hear it from her, he was depending on her for that soft easy tone of reassurance.

The reassurance didn’t come. She lowered her eyes and murmured quickly, “I don’t know, Dan. I still don’t think — I just don’t know.”

He grunted and buried himself behind the afternoon newspaper.

5

HARVEY HARRIS came for Bobby on the dot. It was just like the night before — the same way of patting her hand, the same thin smile, the same wet handshake. And along with all this, there was a little laugh and an apology “for spiriting Barbara away from her home like this.” But the reason, he explained, was a “most important” one. “Mother is in town,” he explained. “She’s here for the annual convention of the International Elocution Teachers. You know, that’s how Mother got along and supported the family before my brother and I could work — before we reached the age of fourteen, that is. She gave elocution lessons to wealthy children in Beewick. Now, of course, it isn’t necessary for her to do so, but she still likes to keep active.”

“ Your mother sounds like a remarkable woman,” said Sarah.

“She is remarkable,” said Harvey Harris. “Naturally I’m very anxious for her to meet Barbara.”

The words were on Dan’s lips—“Why so anxious? Why so naturally?” But he didn’t say them. There was a dryness in his throat, and he let the moment pass.

And then Bobby and Harvey Harris left for the evening, and he was alone with Sarah.

It was funny, how they both stayed away from the subject. Without a word ahead of time, they both seemed to agree on this, and they talked of other things. Through dinner they talked about the food. After dinner they turned on the television. They looked at Sid Caesar, and they laughed at the jokes, and then they stopped laughing, they lowered their eyes, they gave themselves up to their own thoughts without any more pretending.

And then, when it was time for bed, Dan gave a sigh and a shake of his head. “I’ll wait for her,” he said. “She’s taking such an early train tomorrow. It may be the last chance to talk to her.”

And Sarah nodded just as easily and unprotestingly as if they had discussed this move in detail. “Yes, you’d better,” she said. And after a moment, “She’s always listened to you. She has a great respect for your opinion.” Then she got to her feet slowly, a little wearily. She made her usual round of the ash trays, and ended up by kissing Dan good night. And for just a moment longer than usual she kept her hand in his. “I’ll be waiting upstairs,” she said. “I won’t sleep.”

When she was gone, Dan sank back into his easy chair. The light was suddenly hard on his eyes, He switched it off and sat back in the darkness, smoking his cigar, thinking about the past. “Sarah,” says a voice — his own voice, sort of weak and faded, from a long, long distance. “What are we bringing up in this household, a little girl or a wild Indian?” “A wild Indian!" comes the answer in a shout —a shout as soft and delicate as the tinkle of a little bell. And there she is for a moment, dancing and prancing before his eyes—

“Daddy, you’re not still up?”

The light blared out at him. He looked up and blinked, and for a moment it was a terrible shock, what he saw. It wasn’t a little girl at all. It was a grown-up young woman, tall and good-looking, dressed in the newest fashion, with high heels on her shoes and lipstick on her face. And the only trace of that lively little girl was the spark of pleasure that was glowing out of her eyes.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” he said, still blinking, confused.

“You must’ve fallen asleep,” she said. “Why did you do it, darling? Waiting up for me like that. You don’t have to worry about me, as if I were a baby.”

Why did he do it? It rushed back on him now, the great worry that was on his mind. He shook his head to get rid of the confusion. A heavy responsibility was ahead of him, and his senses had to be clear. “Listen, baby,” he said. “Sit down, will you.”

“Yes, Daddy.”She laughed and perched herself on the edge of the sofa. Her cheeks were flushed. More so than usual — Dan couldn’t help noticing it. It was happiness that caused it—he couldn’t help noticing that too. Then he got hold of himself, he pushed away stray thoughts.

“Let’s have a little talk,” he said. “It’s a long time since we had one of our little talks.”

“I know it, I know it,” she said. “Poor Daddy, I’ve been neglecting you terribly, haven’t I? Up at college, and going out all the time, and all. You make me feel so guilty.”

“Guilty.” He laughed, quick and a little nervous. “I don’t want you to feel guilty. God knows, that’s the last thing I want you to feel. It’s your happiness I want, baby. You know that, don’t you?”

“ You’re the sweetest father in the world. You’ve spoiled me terribly.”

“Spoiled you? Have I? I never thought about it. Maybe because I’ve been spoiling myself at the same time. But that’s not the point,” he went on hurriedly. “That’s not what I want to talk about.” He stuck out his jaw. Now is the moment, he told himself. Firm and courageous. After this, it’ll be too late.

“It is the point, darling,” she said, leaning forward suddenly and giving one of her brightest smiles. “You’ve always looked out for my happiness, and you’ve succeeded. I have been happy. I don’t think a girl could ask to be happier. That is, I’ve been miserable too—”

“You’ve been miserable?” he put in quickly.

“Like all girls my age,” she said, laughing. “A girl wouldn’t be satisfied if she wasn’t miserable every once in a while. And you know, I think that some men are like that too.” She laughed again, then her face softened, and her smile grew gentler and more serious. “But now even that is all over. Now I won’t even be miserable any more. Because of what’s ahead of me, Daddy. The biggest happiness of all. I can’t really talk about it. yet —it’s not absolutely and completely settled—but it’s coming any day now.”

“It’s coming?” Dan said. “Something is coming?”

Bobby got to her feet and moved up to him. “Let’s not talk about it, Daddy. We’ll talk about it later—pretty soon we won’t be talking about anything else.” And she put her arms around him and kissed him, almost as affectionately and contentedly as she used to do when she was just a little girl.

The touch of her lips against his cheek made Dan weak. It set his knees to wobbling. Pull yourself together, he kept telling himself. Firm and courageous. But even as he told himself, he knew it was useless. He returned her kiss softly. A vague little smile came over his face. “All right, we won’t talk,” he said. “Whatever it is, baby— Is it right for you? Then it’s right for your mother and me.”

They separated a few minutes later. And Dan went to his room and to Sarah. She was lying back on her pillow, and the light cast heavy shadows across her face. But her eyes were very wide, staring and anxious. Dan walked up to the bed without a word, looked at her, then turned away and started to undress for the night. It wasn’t till he was in his own bed, and the lights were out, that he spoke up sharply, with sudden fierceness.

“All right, it’s her life,” he said. “She’s old enough to make her own decisions.

And a silence came over the two of them, dark and heavy and oppressive. It was a long time before either of them could get to sleep.

Copyright 1954, by James Yaffe