"
"I fancy so--with right-thinking people. By the way, I have much to
congratulate you on. We old fogies in this desert place have been often
seeing your name in the newspapers lately. You are a most experienced
traveller."
"Fair. But people made a great deal more of that than it deserved. It
was very simple, and I had every chance. Some day I will go out and do
the same thing again with no advantages, and if I come back you may
praise me then."
"Right, Lewie. A bare game and no chances is the rule of war. And now,
what will you do?"
"Settle down," said the young man with mock pathos, "which in my case
means settling up also. I suppose it is what you would call the crucial
moment in my life. I am going in for politics, as I always intended,
and for the rest I shall live a quiet country life at Etterick. I've a
wonderful talent for rusticity."
The Doctor shot an inquiring glance from beneath the flaps of his hat.
"I never can make up my mind about you, Lewie."
"I daresay not. It is long since I gave up trying to make up my mind
about myself."
"When you were a very small and very bad boy I made the usual prophecy
that you would make a spoon or spoil a horn. Later I declared you would
make the spoon. I still keep to that opinion, but I wish to goodness I
knew what shape your spoon would take."
"Ornamental, Doctor, some odd fancy spoon, but not useful.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25