Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, No. 401, March 1849Various
Science
Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, No. 401, March 1849
Various
England -- Periodicals; Scotland -- Periodicals
"Why, he would not have been in prison if I had not been so blindly
forgetful of his weakness, poor man! I ought to have known better. But
my vanity misled me; I must needs publish a great book, as if (said Mr
Caxton, looking round the shelves,) there were not great books enough
in the world! I must needs, too, think of advancing and circulating
knowledge in the form of a journal--I, who had not knowledge enough of
the character of my own brother-in-law to keep myself from ruin! Come
what will, I should think myself the meanest of men to let that poor
creature, whom I ought to have considered as a monomaniac, rot in
prison, because I, Austin Caxton, wanted common sense. And (concluded
my father resolutely) he is your mother's brother, Pisistratus. I
should have gone to town at once; but, hearing that my wife had
written to you, I waited till I could leave her to the companionship
of hope and comfort--two blessings that smile upon every mother in the
face of a son like you. To-morrow I go."
"Not a bit of it," said Mr Squills firmly; "as your medical adviser, I
forbid you to leave the house for the next six days."
CHAPTER LIII.
"Sir," continued Mr Squills, biting off the end of a cigar which he
pulled from his pocket, "you concede to me that it is a very important
business on which you propose to go to London."
"Of that there is no doubt," replied my father.
"And the doing of business well or ill entirely depends upon the habit
of body!" cried Mr Squills triumphantly. "Do you know, Mr Caxton, that
while you are looking so calm, and talking so quietly--just on purpose
to sustain your son and delude your wife--do you know that your pulse,
which is naturally little more than sixty, is nearly a hundred? Do you
know, sir, that your mucous membranes are in a state of high
irritation, apparent by the _papillæ_ at the tip of your tongue? And
if, with a pulse like this, and a tongue like that, you think of
settling money matters with a set of sharp-witted tradesmen, all I can
say is, that you are a ruined man."
"But--" began my father.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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