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Early Days: Nicknames and Such
- University of California Press
- Chapter
- Additional Information
“Mugwumps” is what he called all three of us children from time to time. Dad was big on names, on words in general. And “Mugwumps” was always said so lovingly! Among other names he called me were “Peaches” and “Nancy Jane, Butterfly name”; he called both Rikki and me “Wormy” quite often—it was a precious name. For a while when we were very young, brother Ed and I were “Sheik and Sheba.” I introduced sister Rikki, whose given name was Cornelia Frances, as “Cornelia Frances ’n Connie” when she and I were out visiting and cadging cookies—I don’t know if Dad initiated that, but he might have. And probably the most unusual was the name I called Rikki till we were in our teens. At one time, apparently, Rikki was stung by a bee; she went sobbing to Dad, who said, in effect, “Next time you bite him back.” From then on, for years she was “Bit–a-bee” (pronounced as one word), later shortened to just Bee. When Ed and I were quite young, Dad used to sit one of us on each knee about bed-time, and we played “elevator” for a while, Dad moving his legs so that we fell time and time again—how we loved it. Then there were always stories to be told, usually stories of twin animals who got into all sorts of trouble, the monkeys actually wetting on people. I can remember twin monkeys and twin giraffes, but I know there were others. One set of twins was named Montgomery and Montmorency. Early Days: Nicknames and Such 336 When we got a little older, Ed and I looked forward to a short reading from The Odyssey—in Middle English, yet. Dad loved the sounds of the words and such phrases as “the rosy-fingered dawn.” Of course there were the inevitable questions—“Did Circe really turn the men into swine?” But he always gave us answers, good answers, that didn’t leave us hanging. And, oh, the wonderful stories about Dad and General Pershing during WWI, stories that we proudly passed on in school (for a while). The daring adventures in Europe with the great general we found out later were purest fiction, as our father was peeling potatoes in Dixie during his army stint and was never even sent to Europe. We had a lot of company on Sundays in particular. Somehow there was always someone in town from a distance, sometimes even a great distance—such as Gislen from Sweden—and they were brought to the house. Mother cooked very good dinners (but, as I remember, was rarely seen), and the men would sit in comfortable living room chairs, smoke cigars or pipes, and hold lengthy, quiet, and congenial conversations , to which brother Ed and I were always privy. We played quietly on the floor, perhaps in a corner, perhaps right near where they were talking. There was just the rumble of voices, sometimes laughter, sometimes questions, but as I remember, never interrupted by Ed or Nancy Jane. Dad always seemed happy and content, and so did everyone else. These events took place at 221 Fourth Street in Pacific Grove, well before Dad and Joseph Campbell’s trip to Alaska. This, probably my favorite house, must have been on two lots, because the yard went all the way over to Third Street. The Spanish–style white stucco house was built right next to the sidewalk on Fourth Street and had only high windows on that side, with what Mother called “Mediterranean blue” trim, seems to me, with some decorative spindles on them. On the corner of the front, next to the walk leading to the front door, there was a sort of small “tower” surrounded by windows and enclosing a high bench, which Ed particularly loved. My “spot” was a small alcove next to the front porch and door, where we put up our Christmas tree at the appropriate time. Opposite the front door and across the width of the living room were French doors opening to a patio, the U-shaped house surrounding it on three sides. I remember a very early radio on a table in the living room and a telephone that was only used by Dad. There was a small room off the kitchen (possibly built as a room for a maid, which of course we didn’t have), and this room was used as Dad’s at-home lab. There were chemicals...