"
"And so that you are here, what now?" inquired Mr. Faringfield,
looking as if he appreciated Mr. Culverson's sentiments.
"Why, sir, as for that, I think 'tis for you to say."
"Indeed, sir?"
"Yes, sir, seeing that I'm your son, whom you're bound to provide
for."
"You are twenty-two, I think," says Mr. Faringfield.
"I take it, a few paltry years more or less don't alter my rights, or
the responsibilities of a parent. Don't think, sir, I shall stand up
and quietly see myself robbed of my birthright. I'm no longer the man
to play the Esek, or Esock, or whatever--"
"Esau," prompted Fanny, in a whisper.
"And my mouth isn't to be stopped by any mess of porridge."
"Pottage," corrected Fanny.
"Well, sir," said Mr. Faringfield, rising, and holding himself very
stiffly, "I'll think upon it." Whereupon he went into the library, and
closed the door after him.
'Tis certain that he had both the strength and the inclination to
chastise his son for these insulting rum-incited speeches, and to cast
him out to shift for his own future; instead of enduring heedlessly
the former, and offering to consider the latter. His strength was
equal to his pride, and he was no colder without than he was
passionate within. But there was one thing his strength of mind fell
short of facing, and that was the disgrace to the family, which the
eldest son might bring were he turned looser, unprovided for, in New
York.
Pages:
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80