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Now home tuition and the "culture of the indiwidool" was a personal hobby of Mr. Tappan, and promiscuous schools his abomination. Had not his own son, Peter Stuyvesant Tappan, been reared upon unsteady legs to magnificent physical and intellectual manhood under this theory?

Remsen Tappan turned his iron visage toward Colonel Mallett ignoring Geraldine's questions. "In the cultiwation of the indiwidool," he began again dauntlessly "Isn't there anybody to answer me?" asked Geraldine, turning from one to another. "Concerning the cultiwation " "Answer me!" she flashed back. There were tears in her voice, but her eyes blazed. "Miss Seagrave," interposed old Mr.

Tappan's dry lips cracked apart; he swallowed grimly several times, then his long bony fingers sought the meagre ends of his black string tie: "In the cultiwation of the indiwidool," he began harshly, and checked himself, when Geraldine flushed to her ear tips and stamped her foot. Self-control had gone at last.

Tappan, addressing the board of solemn-visaged directors assembled in session to determine upon the fate of two motherless little children. "Indiwidoolism is nurtured in excloosion; the elimination of the extraneous is necessary for the dewelopment of indiwidoolism. I regard the human indiwidool as sacred.

Tappan extended a dry hand and bored him through with eyes like holes burnt in a blanket. "And do you still cultiwate the fine arts, young man?" he inquired, as sternly as though he privately suspected Duane of maltreating them. Duane shook hands with him. "The school of the indiwidool," continued Mr. Tappan, "is what artists need. Woo the muses in solitude; cultiwate 'em in isolation.

She never would, now. There was no selfishness in Kathleen Severn. But there was much in the Seagrave twins. The very method of their bringing up inculcated it; they had never had any chance to be otherwise. The "cultiwation of the indiwidool" had driven it into them, taught them the deification of self, forced them to consider their own importance above anything else in the world.

Tappan has been quite wonderful. Why, Duane, he's a perfect old dear; and we all are so terribly contrite and so anxious to make amends for our horrid attitude toward him when he ruled us with an iron rod." "He's a funny old duck," mused Duane. "That son of his, Peter, has had the 'indiwidool cultiwated' clean out of him. He's only a type, like Gibson's drawings of Tag's son.

Geraldine, on the edge of a circle of newly arrived guests, leaned over and whispered mischievously: "Is that what you did at the Ecole des Beaux Arts? Did you behave like all that or did you cultivate the indiwidool?" He shook hands again, solemnly, with Mr. Tappan, stepped back, and joined her. "Where on earth have you been hiding?" she inquired.