But, somehow, he plays so hard at his work and works so hard at
his play that you are always wondering whether it's all the time he
works or all the time he plays. At any rate, out of his work comes
gaiety and out of his play seriousness. His activities are so many that
when I try to make my imagined program of his average day, I should
provide one not of twenty-four hours, but of seventy-two.
I imagine him going down to his office at about nine in the morning,
working until noon as though driven by steam and electricity; then
lunching with a party of Native Sons, all filled with jocund japeful
joshing Native Son humor which brims over in showers of Native Son wit.
I imagine him returning to an afternoon of brief but concentrated
strenuous labor, then going for a run in the Park, or tennis, or golf,
ending with a swim; presenting himself fine and fit at his club at
first-cocktail time. I imagine him dining at his club or at a restaurant
or at a stag-dinner, always in the company of other joyous Native Sons;
going to the Orpheum, motoring through the Park afterwards; and finally
indulging in another bite before he gets to bed. Sometime during the
process, he has assisted in playing a graceful practical joke on a
trusting friend.
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