“Do tell me what you are laughing at, papa,” said she, entreatingly.
“It was something that I saw long ago,—something I was reminded of by those trees yonder, bobbing up and down with the current.”
“But what was it?” asked she, more eagerly; for even yet the memory kept him laughing.
“Nothing that could interest you, girl,” said he, bluntly; and then, as if ashamed of the rudeness of his speech, he added, “Though I have seen a good deal of life, Lizzy, there's but little of it I could recall for either your benefit or instruction.”
Lizzy was silent; she wished him to speak on, but did not choose to question him. Strangely enough, too, though be shunned the theme, he had been glad if she had led him on to talk of it.
After a long pause he sighed heavily, and said: “I suppose every one, if truth were told, would have rather a sad tale to tell of the world when he comes to my age. It don't improve upon acquaintance, I promise you. Not that I want to discourage you about it, my girl. You 'll come to my way of thinking one of these days, and it will be quite soon enough.”
“And have you really found men so false and worthless as you say?”
“I'll tell you in one word the whole story, Lizzy. The fellows that are born to a good station and good property are all fair and honest, if they like it; the rest of the world must be rogues, whether they like it or not.”
“This is a very disenchanting picture you put before me.” “Here 's how it is, girl,” said he, warming with his subject. “Every man in the world is a gambler; let him rail against dice, racing, cards, or billiards, he has a game of his own in his heart, and he's playing for a seat in the Cabinet, a place in the colonies, a bishopric, or the command of a regiment. The difference is, merely, that your regular play-man admits chance into his calculations, the other fellows don't; they pit pure skill against the table, and trust to their knowledge of the game.”
She sighed deeply, but did not speak.