“We live in a strange universe,” said Major Nathaniel Peabody. “Upon careful analysis, you will discover the rules established to direct us onto the pathways of appropriate behavior are of highly questionable validity. Morality, ethics and even the simple instructions of how to lead a happy life are contradictory and confusing. Nothing is what it seems to be. What we presume to be immutable laws turn out to be quite mutable.
“Examples are legion. ‘Thou shalt not kill’ unless ‘thou’ happens to be the hangman. Stealing tens of thousands of dollars is a felony unless you happen to be a United States Senator or a member of the House of Representatives. ‘Look before you leap’, appears to be good advice, but remember, ‘He who hesitates is lost.’ ‘A penny saved is a penny earned’, but, still, a man can be ‘penny wise and pound foolish”.
It was the 27th day of September. Major Peabody and I were in Bookbinders. He was enjoying a cigar and we both had an after dinner Spanish sherry - a Tio Pepe from Jerez de la Frontera. As I recall it, we had enjoyed more than just one of them.
“Even though something leaves the impression that it is entirely clear, in fact, it may be open to many different interpretations,” Peabody observed.
I immediately became suspicious. “I know what you’re up to, Major,” I said, “and it won’t work. Your Spendthrift Trust Agreement is definitely NOT subject to a different interpretation. That document provides for the delivery of a monthly stipend on the first day of the month. It very carefully proscribes delivery before the first day of the month.” I looked at my watch. “It is now thirteen minutes past eight o’clock. You can get your check in 75 hours and forty seven minutes and not a single second earlier. You know the rules.”
If Peabody was disappointed, he didn’t show it. He blew a smoke ring. He looked at me for a moment and then continued: “It is said there is an exception to every rule.”
Now I had him. I knew, sooner or later, he would use that ‘exception to every rule’ ploy. I was ready for him.
“Well, Major,” I answered, trying not to sound too smug, “if there is an exception to every rule, then that statement must be a rule. If it is a rule, then, according to its own terms, there is an exception to it. In other words there has to be a rule to which there is no exception. I’ll give you an example of such a rule.” I paused and enunciated clearly for emphasis and said: “There is no exception to the rule that directs the delivery of your trust stipend on the first day of the month.”
Peabody effected a pained expression. “Of course, my boy, of course,” he said. “I have no intention of putting you in an untenable position with your law firm by accepting an early payment.” (Yes, he used the word “accepting”.) “I was merely saying that rules, under certain circumstances, can quite properly be fractured, if not broken. For example - you, I am told, have adopted a rule to never bet with me. Is that right?”
The lovely Stephanie must have spilled the beans. Stephanie is my fiancé and a very beautiful, intelligent and strong minded woman. Stephanie suggested I never again make any kind of wager with Major Nathaniel Peabody. When the lovely Stephanie makes a suggestion, that suggestion must be adopted if it be your desire to continue association with her.
Don’t misunderstand. Stephanie likes the Major. She enjoys his stories and his company. She also knows of the various times the Major has talked me into betting on a wager that, on the surface, appeared to be a safe bet. I ended up paying off on every one of those ‘safe bets’.
I didn’t answer the Major’s question. I didn’t have to. Clearly, Peabody had talked to Stephanie and he knew about her ‘suggestion’.
“Don’t worry, my boy,” he said. “I believe I understand completely.” Peabody looked at his empty glass and then at me. “I take it your firm is paying for this dinner? Entertainment of a client?” I nodded. “Well then,” he said catching the eye of the waiter, “two more Tio Pepe, if you please.”
Major Peabody extolled the virtues of the lovely Stephanie and emphasized our mutual good luck in finding one another. Certainly, he said, he would do nothing that might jeopardize my relationship with her. Then his eyes lit up and he said: “I have a marvelous idea. I believe you should make an exception to your rule.”
“Oh”, I said, feeling I was about to be invited to take my first step onto a very slippery slope.
“Undoubtedly Stephanie has suggested you refrain from betting with me because she doesn’t want you disappointed in the event the gods of wagering favor me with good luck.” (Good luck, my foot! Peabody doesn’t leave anything to chance. He only bets on sure things.)
“That is an unmistakable sign of her affection for you,” the Major explained. “Your disappointment would be too much for her to bear. Now suppose - just suppose - I were to make a bet with such extreme conditions that my opportunity to win would be practically non-existent. Suppose, further, that you won the bet. Can you imagine how pleased Stephanie would be to learn how you had outsmarted me?”
Peabody leaned back in his chair, smiling at the ingenuity of his plan. “Tomorrow morning, Doc Carmichael and I are leaving for South Dakota to help the state keep its pheasant population under control. We’ll be there on the first of October when you come to deliver my check and I’ll have the money to settle our bet. What do you think?”
It must have been the Tio Pepe. After receiving the assurance that the Major would not, directly or indirectly divulge even the existence of our bet to his hunting friends, we agreed on its terms. It was a joint effort. Major Peabody established half of the conditions of the wager and I named the rest. I was particularly pleased with my proposed addition of “while whistling Dixie”.
* * * * *
Late in the evening of September 30, I got out of the auto I rented at the Brookings airport and entered the cabin the Major and his friends had rented for their hunting foray. Doctor Carmichael met me at the door. He was in an exuberant mood.
“Come in. Come in. Feeling well, I hope. We’re all feeling very fine here - with the possible exception of Major Peabody. You brought his check? Good. He’ll need it to pay off his bet. I won! First time in a couple of years.”
Major Peabody sat in a well used, overstuffed chair, smiling faintly. He did not look uncomfortable and I began to feel uneasy. My discomfort increased as Doctor Carmichael explained the reason for his joy.
“Can you believe it?” he asked. “Peabody bet me fifty dollars I couldn’t stand on a chair, raise one foot in the air, tap my head and rub my stomach while whistling Dixie. What’s the matter? You don’t look so good.”
You wouldn’t look so good either if you had bet five hundred dollars the Major couldn’t get Carmichael to give that performance before witnesses.