"I want to ask you, father, please to let Felix go to college
in my place. As long as we can't both go, I think he ought to be the
one. You know, sir, he's a thousand times cleverer than I am, and he'll
be sure to do you twice the credit that I shall. I do wish you'd
consider the change."
"And what do _you_ propose to do in that case?" papa asked, peering up
at him again.
"Go into business,--lots of fellows do at my age,--if I can get anything
at all," answered Phil, squaring his shoulders.
Papa sat and thought and thought for several minutes, without a word;
then he said, in that quiet tone of voice that we children know always
settles a question, "No, I prefer that the present arrangement should be
carried out." Then he began reading again.
I thought Phil would have gone, after that; but no, he got quite
excited: "It isn't fair to Felix," he cried, thumping his hand down
on the desk with such force that the pages of the Fetich just
danced,--you'll hear more about the Fetich by and by,--"indeed it
isn't! He's got the most brains of the whole lot of us put together,
and he _ought_ to have some advantages. And besides, sir, you know
he was mother's boy.
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