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When
his
son
was
dressed
Mr.
Button
regarded
him
with
depression
.
The
costume
consisted
of
dotted
socks
,
pink
pants
,
and
a
belted
blouse
with
a
wide
white
collar
.
Over
the
latter
waved
the
long
whitish
beard
,
drooping
almost
to
the
waist
.
The
effect
was
not
good
.
"
Wait
!
"
Mr.
Button
seized
a
hospital
shears
and
with
three
quick
snaps
amputated
a
large
section
of
the
beard
.
But
even
with
this
improvement
the
ensemble
fell
far
short
of
perfection
.
The
remaining
brush
of
scraggly
hair
,
the
watery
eyes
,
the
ancient
teeth
,
seemed
oddly
out
of
tone
with
the
gaiety
of
the
costume
.
Mr.
Button
,
however
,
was
obdurate
--
he
held
out
his
hand
.
"
Come
along
!
"
he
said
sternly
.
His
son
took
the
hand
trustingly
.
"
What
are
you
going
to
call
me
,
dad
?
"
he
quavered
as
they
walked
from
the
nursery
--
"
just
'
baby
'
for
a
while
?
till
you
think
of
a
better
name
?
"
Mr.
Button
grunted
.
"
I
do
n't
know
,
"
he
answered
harshly
.
"
I
think
we
'll
call
you
Methuselah
.
"
Even
after
the
new
addition
to
the
Button
family
had
had
his
hair
cut
short
and
then
dyed
to
a
sparse
unnatural
black
,
had
had
his
face
shaved
so
dose
that
it
glistened
,
and
had
been
attired
in
small-boy
clothes
made
to
order
by
a
flabbergasted
tailor
,
it
was
impossible
for
Button
to
ignore
the
fact
that
his
son
was
a
excuse
for
a
first
family
baby
.
Despite
his
aged
stoop
,
Benjamin
Button
--
for
it
was
by
this
name
they
called
him
instead
of
by
the
appropriate
but
invidious
Methuselah
--
was
five
feet
eight
inches
tall
.
His
clothes
did
not
conceal
this
,
nor
did
the
clipping
and
dyeing
of
his
eyebrows
disguise
the
fact
that
the
eyes
under
--
were
faded
and
watery
and
tired
.
In
fact
,
the
baby-nurse
who
had
been
engaged
in
advance
left
the
house
after
one
look
,
in
a
state
of
considerable
indignation
.
But
Mr.
Button
persisted
in
his
unwavering
purpose
.
Benjamin
was
a
baby
,
and
a
baby
he
should
remain
.
At
first
he
declared
that
if
Benjamin
did
n't
like
warm
milk
he
could
go
without
food
altogether
,
but
he
was
finally
prevailed
upon
to
allow
his
son
bread
and
butter
,
and
even
oatmeal
by
way
of
a
compromise
.
One
day
he
brought
home
a
rattle
and
,
giving
it
to
Benjamin
,
insisted
in
no
uncertain
terms
that
he
should
"
play
with
it
,
"
whereupon
the
old
man
took
it
with
--
a
weary
expression
and
could
be
heard
jingling
it
obediently
at
intervals
throughout
the
day
.
There
can
be
no
doubt
,
though
,
that
the
rattle
bored
him
,
and
that
he
found
other
and
more
soothing
amusements
when
he
was
left
alone
.
For
instance
,
Mr.
Button
discovered
one
day
that
during
the
preceding
week
be
had
smoked
more
cigars
than
ever
before
--
a
phenomenon
,
which
was
explained
a
few
days
later
when
,
entering
the
nursery
unexpectedly
,
he
found
the
room
full
of
faint
blue
haze
and
Benjamin
,
with
a
guilty
expression
on
his
face
,
trying
to
conceal
the
butt
of
a
dark
Havana
.
This
,
of
course
,
called
for
a
severe
spanking
,
but
Mr.
Button
found
that
he
could
not
bring
himself
to
administer
it
.
He
merely
warned
his
son
that
he
would
"
stunt
his
growth
.
"
Nevertheless
he
persisted
in
his
attitude
.
He
brought
home
lead
soldiers
,
he
brought
toy
trains
,
he
brought
large
pleasant
animals
made
of
cotton
,
and
,
to
perfect
the
illusion
which
he
was
creating
--
for
himself
at
least
--
he
passionately
demanded
of
the
clerk
in
the
toy-store
whether
"
the
paint
would
come
oft
the
pink
duck
if
the
baby
put
it
in
his
mouth
.
"
But
,
despite
all
his
father
's
efforts
,
Benjamin
refused
to
be
interested
.
He
would
steal
down
the
back
stairs
and
return
to
the
nursery
with
a
volume
of
the
Encyclopedia
Britannica
,
over
which
he
would
pore
through
an
afternoon
,
while
his
cotton
cows
and
his
Noah
's
ark
were
left
neglected
on
the
floor
.
Against
such
a
stubbornness
Mr.
Button
's
efforts
were
of
little
avail
.
