"e;Professor James Parkhurst, I consider you a colossal failure as an educator,"e; said Francesca, his daughter, known to friend and family as Bambina, or Bambi for short. Professor Parkhurst lifted a startled face from his newspaper and surveyed his only child across the breakfast table. "e;My dear, what causes this sweeping assertion of my incompetence?"e;"e;I do! I do! Just what did you expect me to do when I grew up?"e;"e;Why, to be happy."e;"e;That's the profession you intended me for? Who's to pay the piper? It's expensive to be happy and also unlucrative."e;"e;I have always expected to support you until your husband claimed that privilege."e;"e;Suppose I want a husband who can't support me?"e;"e;Dear me, that would be unfortunate. It is the first duty of a husband to support his wife."e;"e;Old-fashioned husbands, yes but not modern ones. Lots of men marry to be supported nowadays. How on earth could I support the man I love?"e;"e;You are not without talents, my dear."e;"e;Talents? You almost said accomplishments! If you were not living in the Pliocene age, Professor James Parkhurst, you would know that accomplishments are a curse accomplishment is the only thing that counts.
