"I hardly think I ought to ask it of you, though even the thought of
your going away breaks my heart." "I will stay," said the boy, almost
as passionately as he had said, "I will go." "I now see how much you
need a protector."
That night the father came home so stupidly drunk that they had to
half carry him to bed where he slept heavily till morning, and rose
considerably shaken and depressed from his debauch. The breakfast was
as silent as it had been stormy on the previous day. After it was
over, Arden followed his father to the door and said:
"I was a boy yesterday morning, but you made me a man, and a rather
ugly one too. I learned then for the first time that you occasionally
strike my mother. Don't you ever do it again, or it will be worse for
you, drunk or sober. I am not going to college, but will stay at home
and take care of her. Do we understand each other?"
The man was in such a low, shattered condition that his son's bearing
cowed him, and he walked off muttering:
"Young cocks crow mighty loud," but from that time forward he never
offered violence to his wife or children.
Still his father's conduct and character had a most disastrous effect
upon the young man. He was soured, because disappointed in his most
cherished purpose at an age when most youths scarcely have definite
plans. Many have a strong natural bent, and if turned aside from this,
they are more or less unhappy, and their duties, instead of being
wings to help life forward, become a galling yoke.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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