THE SON OF JOHNS
Johns is squarish but his son is oblong. Neither are mournful. Neither mock the other. When his son says “door,” he means “where is the newspaper?” When Johns says “with a vengeance,” he means “I am an impressionable man with an aptitude for euphemizing.” If Johns is painting a wooden bird, his son is a cornish hen running through the forest. One moment Johns is fascinated by scriveners, the next moment his son is fascinated by stagehands. Johns prefers golfers. His son prefers nomads.