Something with iron resolve the father had kept hidden all
these years in the lonely citadel of his heart. "And yet—but it is only part of the chain of ill-luck that
seems wound around me. "He has passed this way," cried Jonathan, exultingly; "I
have him safe enough. We’re
different. There was
something which chilled even him in the cold impassivity of her features. One’s got to be a better man than one’s
father, or what is the good of successive generations? Life is rebellion, or
nothing. I
meant to give him a drubbing. You seemed, he thought, to have
some grievance which you would not explain and which he thought must arise
from a misunderstanding. Divers plans and figures were chalked
upon the walls; and the spaces between them were filled up with an almanack for
the year; a godly ballad, adorned with a rude wood-cut, purporting to be "The
History of Chaste Susannah;" an old print of the Seven Golden Candlesticks; an
abstract of the various Acts of Parliament against drinking, swearing, and all
manner of profaneness; and a view of the interior of Doctor Daniel Burgess's
Presbyterian meeting-house in Russell Court, with portraits of the reverend
gentleman and the principal members of his flock. It doesn't look bad, does it?"
"Mercy, no! That wasn't the thought. . All right really. She put a
stool for him at a little distance from her own, and after he had seen the day’s
work he hesitated, and then plunged into a resumption of their discussion about
beauty. Jonathan had to feel his way.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 12-06-2024 13:10:13