Ethics -- Fiction; Religion and sociology -- Fiction; Upper class families -- Fiction
Business was his all-in-all, and he had an undisguised contempt for
higher education. To send a boy to college was, in his opinion, to run
no inconsiderable risk of ruining him. What did they amount to when they
came home, strutting like peacocks, full of fads and fancies, and much
too good to associate with decent, hard-working citizens? Nevertheless
when autumn came and my friends departed with eclat for the East, I was
desperate indeed! Even the contemplation of Robert Breck did not console
me, and yet here, in truth, was a life which might have served me as a
model. His store was his castle; and his reputation for integrity and
square dealing as wide as the city. Often I used to watch him with a
certain envy as he stood in the doorway, his hands in his pockets,
and greeted fellow-merchant and banker with his genuine and dignified
directness. This man was his own master. They all called him “Robert,”
and they made it clear by their manner that they knew they were
addressing one who fulfilled his obligations and asked no favours.
Crusty old Nathaniel Durrett once declared that when you bought a bill
of goods from Robert Breck you did not have to check up the invoice or
employ a chemist. Here was a character to mould upon. If my ambition
could but have been bounded by Breck and Company, I, too, might have
come to stand in that doorway content with a tribute that was greater
than Caesar's.
I had been dreading the Christmas holidays, which were indeed to be no
holidays for me. And when at length they arrived they brought with them
from the East certain heroes fashionably clad, citizens now of a larger
world than mine. These former companions had become superior beings,
they could not help showing it, and their presence destroyed the Balance
of Things. For alas, I had not wholly abjured the feminine sex after
all! And from being a somewhat important factor in the lives of Ruth
Hollister and other young women I suddenly became of no account. New
interests, new rivalries and loyalties had arisen in which I had no
share; I must perforce busy myself with invoices of flour and coffee and
canned fruits while sleigh rides and coasting and skating expeditions
to Blackstone Lake followed one another day after day,--for the irony of
circumstances had decreed a winter uncommonly cold. There were evening
parties, too, where I felt like an alien, though my friends were guilty
of no conscious neglect; and had I been able to accept the situation
simply, I should not have suffered.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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