There!
Mrs. Egerton.
But hear him, Donald.
Harry Egerton.
All my life
I've wanted to say something to you, father;
Especially since I went to work. You once,
When I came home from college, you remember,
And hadn't made my mind up what to do,
What my life work should be——
Egerton.
A pretty son!
Harry Egerton.
We talked together and you said that now
Three things lay open to me, that I could choose
And that you'd back me up. First, there was Art.
And though you didn't say so, I could see
You'd have been glad if I had chosen that.
I had a talent for it, so you said,
And I could study with the best of them.
You'd set aside a hundred thousand dollars;
And I could finish up by travelling,
Seeing the beautiful buildings of the world;
That I could take my time, then settle down
And glorify my land: that's what you said.
Then there was Public Life. You'd start me in
By giving me the Courier. That, you said,
Would give me at once a standing among men
And training in political affairs.
And that if I made good you'd see to it
I had a seat in Congress, and in the end
That probably I'd be Governor of the State.
And then you paused. You didn't like the third.
Business, you said, was an unpleasant life.
'Twas all right as you'd used it, as a means,
But as an end—And then you used words, father,
That changed my life although you didn't know it—
'Business, my son, is war; needful at times,
But as a life,—you shook your head and sighed.
With that we ended it, for some one came
And I went out. Six years ago last June,
The seventh of June; I can't forget the day.
The sun was shining but a strange new light
Lay over everything. All of a sudden
It dawned upon my mind that I'd been reared
Inside a garden full of flowers and trees,
And only now had chanced upon the gate
And stepped out. There was smoke upon the skies
And a rumbling of strange wagons in the street.
I was afraid. For every man I met
Seemed just about to ask, 'What side are you on?'
And I was twenty-one and didn't know.
Egerton.