It broke upon him like a revelation.
He was at work one fine morning in his garden, in a square in which
young watermelon plants of a choice kind were just springing. Willie
was there with him, just emerged fresh for fun from the waters of
sleep. Very anxious to be as near as possible to his father, who was
always his only playmate, Willie had strayed from the walk in which
his father had seated him, and stood beside his father. With a
quick, passionate motion, Leland seized his child, and placed him
violently back in the walk, with a harsh threat. The child whimpered
for a while, and soon forgetting himself, came to his father again
over the tender plants. This time Leland seized him still more
violently, seated him roughly in the walk, and, with harsh threats,
struck him upon his plump red cheek. Willie burst into tears, and
wept in passion. His father was in a miserable, uneasy frame of
mind. He ceased his work, bared his brow to the delicious morning
air. He leaned upon his hoe, and gazed upon his child. He felt there
was something wrong. He always knew, and acknowledged, that he was
of a rash, irritable disposition. He now remembered that ever since
his child's birth he had been exceedingly impatient with it.
Pages:
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93