This matter of offspring is certainly very curious. Why should the solid Samuel Wright and his foolish, obedient Eliza have brought into the world a being of mist and fire? A beautiful youth, who laughed or wept or sung aloud, indifferent to all about him! Sometimes Sam senior used to look at his son and shake his head in bewildered astonishment; but often he was angry, and oftener still--though this he never admitted--hurt. The boy, always impersonally amiable, never thought it worth while to explain himself; partly because he was not interested in his father's opinion of his conduct, and partly because he knew he could not make himself understood. "But who, my dear Eliza," Samuel would say to his wife--"who could understand such a boy? Look at this last performance of his! Purchasing pictures of _actors_! Where does he get such low tastes?--unless some of your family were interested in such things?" "Oh no, Samuel; no, indeed," Mrs. Wright protested nervously. "And to use money not his own! Do you know what that is called, my dear Eliza? It is called--" "Oh don't, Samuel." whimpered the poor mother. "And to think how carefully I have trained him! And all I have done for him. I let him buy that skiff he said he wanted. Absolute waste of money! Our old rowboat is good enough for the girls, so why isn't it good enough for him? And I never laid a hand on him in punishment either; not many fathers can say that." As for the bank supplies young Sam had explained to his mother that they had been ordered and charged, so what _was_ the matter? And Mrs. Wright kneading her tear-soaked handkerchief into a ball, cried some more and said: "Oh, Sam dear, why do you act so?" Sam looked at her attentively, wondering why her little nose always reddened when she cried. But he waited patiently, until she finished her rambling reproaches. It occurred to him that he would tell Mrs. Richie all about this matter of the prints. "She will understand," he thought. Sam's acquaintance with Mrs. Richie had begun when she was getting settled in her new house. Sam senior, having no desire to climb the hill road, sent his various communications to his tenant by his son, and afterwards Sam junior had communications of his own to make. He fell into the habit of stopping there on Sunday afternoons, quite oblivious of the fact that Mrs. Richie did not display any pleasure at seeing him. After one of these calls he was apt to be late in reaching "The Top," as his grandfather's place was called, and old Benjamin Wright, in his brown wig and moth-eaten beaver hat, would glare at him with melancholy dark eyes. "Gad-a-mercy, what do you mean,--getting here at six-five! I have my tea at six, sir; at six sharp. Either get here on time or stay away. I don't care which. Do you hear?" "Yes, sir," young Sam would murmur. "Where have you been? Mooning after that female at the Stuffed Animal House?" "I had to leave a message, sir, about the lease."