been docile and obedient--as might have been mine if I had tried to
win it. I sought for congenial companionship away from the social
circle in which my parents moved; it is true that I found associates
among men who, doubtless with more reason than myself, were
dissatisfied with things as they were, and that I identified
myself--being, as a youth, proud of the connection--with a body of
so-called Freethinkers, whose chief crime was that they were groping
to find truth by the light of reason. My father, hearing of this
connection, sternly commanded me to relinquish it, and when I refused,
threatened me. He declared he would drive the evil spirit out of me,
and he tried to do so by blows; but he hurt only my body--my spirit he
strengthened. About this time a circumstance occurred which for ever
destroyed all chance of peace between us. We had a servant at home, a
poor half-witted creature--an orphan without a friend in the world.
One would have supposed that my father, being so fond of his prayers,
would have been kind to this servant because of her utterly dependent
condition, and because she performed her work as well and as
faithfully as her dull wits allowed her. Had this been so, I think I
might have been inclined to waver in my estimate of him; but the
contrary was the case. My father, through his unvarying harshness
towards the poor girl, made her life a torture to her. I constituted
myself her champion, and stepped between her and his blows many a
time. Boy as I was, he chose to place misconstruction upon my
championship, and each became more embittered against the other. I fed
my bitterness by contemplation of the girl's misery, and the unhappy
war went on until it was terminated by a tragic circumstance. One day
the servant was missing; the next, the body was found in the river.
The idea fixed itself firmly in my mind that my father was accountable
for her death; I even hinted as much to him when my blood was boiling
with a new injustice inflicted upon myself. What passed between us
after that, it will be as well not to recall; the result was that I
left my home, and no hand was held out to stay me. I never saw my
parents from that day, nor have I ever mentioned them until this
evening. Whether I have done them injustice cannot now be decided; but
I have no doubt, if the world were to judge between us, the verdict
would be against me.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account