I gazed by turns at father and grandfather: father in his normal
place, thinking of each of us, diffusing peace and order about him;
the light of his marvellous aptitude at command shining from his clear
cut features and especially from his piercing eyes; grandfather, the
delicate lines of his face, almost feminine notwithstanding his long
white beard, his eyes always slightly clouded, often abstracted,
indifferent to all around him, and more interested in the trees of the
garden or the bit of sky that he saw through the window than in us. For
the first time I was astonished to find such a difference between the
two men. I had never observed it before, or had not thought about it.
Now it struck me so strongly that I almost uttered my surprise aloud.
It doubtless would have escaped me had I not felt the unseemliness of
the fact. A son ought to resemble his father--there could be no doubt
upon the subject. Or else it wasn’t worth while to be the son of some
one. And whom was I like?
BOOK II
I
THE PICTURES
ALL these events, still so fresh in my imagination, grew dim and were
temporarily lost in the current of the days which, during the long
vacation upon which we were entering, began to flow by like a beautiful
stream, full to the brim.
As a general thing our father took his vacation at the same time with
us, and made the most of it for getting nearer to us. We saw him much
less often this year, and became somewhat weaned from those stories of
heroism with which he used to enliven our walks, kindling and stirring
us up with fierce desire to fight battles and win victories. When we
heard him tell them we used to toss our heads, our eyes would sparkle,
we would walk faster, and our steps fell into cadence. But to meet the
new expenses which he had assumed he had given up his annual rest. Once
in a while he would snatch an afternoon, and make a hasty attempt to
re-establish the old nearness to us. But his patients came to seek him
at all hours of the day, or lay in wait for him as he passed along.
Everything conspired to deprive us of him.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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