Which Toby did, and actually surprised a tear on the parchment cheek of his father, which touch of nature making them both akin, had a marked effect on the soft heart of the young man, and he fell into the arms of his sire.
Thus far the parable was excellently interpreted.
But the fatted calf.
Ah! it was truly an excellent beast, that same calf, for it consisted of several courses, and the wine was undeniable. Clendon père looked after his cellar as well as his folios, and after a good dinner father and son clasped hands once more under the influence of '47 port, which made them both sentimental.
"You will stay with me, Tobias, and comfort my declining years?"
"Certainly, father; but you will let me go to London occasionally?"
"Oh, yes, Tobias; you must attend to your business. By the way, what is your business?"
"That of a scribbler."
"Ah! Richard Savage and Grub Street. Never mind, my boy, I've got money enough for us both."
"No, not Grub Street. Nous avons change tout cela, eh, father! I make about five hundred a year."