A GOOD-FOR-NOTHING.
RALPH GRIM was born a gentleman.
He had the misfortune of coming into
the world some ten years later than
might reasonably have been expected.
Colonel Grim and his lady had celebrated twelve
anniversaries of their wedding-day, and had
given up all hopes of ever having a son and
heir, when this late-comer startled them by his
unexpected appearance. The only previous
addition to the family had been a daughter, and
she was then ten summers old.
Ralph was a very feeble child, and could only
with great difficulty be persuaded to retain his
hold of the slender thread which bound him to
existence. He was rubbed with whisky, and
wrapped in cotton, and given mare's milk to
drink, and God knows what not, and the Colonel
swore a round oath of paternal delight
when at last the infant stopped gasping in that
distressing way and began to breathe like other
human beings. The mother, who, in spite of
her anxiety for the child's life, had found time
to plot for him a career of future magnificence,
now suddenly set him apart for literature,
because that was the easiest road to fame, and
disposed of him in marriage to one of the most
distinguished families of the land. She
cautiously suggested this to her husband when he
came to take his seat at her bedside; but to
her utter astonishment she found that he had
been indulging a similar train of thought, and
had already destined the infant prodigy for the
army. She, however, could not give up her
predilection for literature, and the Colonel, who
could not bear to be contradicted in his own
house, as he used to say, was getting every
minute louder and more flushed, when, happily,
the doctor's arrival interrupted the dispute.
Pages:
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110