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ROFESSOR JAMES PARKHURST, I consider you a colossal failure as an educator,” 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.

“My dear, what causes this sweeping assertion of my incompetence?”

“I do! I do! Just what did you expect me to do when I grew up?”

“Why, to be happy.”

“That’s the profession you intended me for? Who’s to pay the piper? It’s expensive to be happy and also unlucrative.”

“I have always expected to support you until your husband claimed that privilege.”

“Suppose I want a husband who can’t support me?”