“Well, father, I’ll tell you, for I have thought of it long and deeply, and I have studied chemistry a good deal for that end.”
“Bravo, Phil!” said Mr Hexton. “A doctor, mother; I thought as much.”
“No, sir, not a doctor; though I think a medical man’s a grand profession, and one only yet in its infancy. But I want to be of some use, father, in my career. I want to save life as a medical man does. You know the old saying, father?”
“About getting the wrong pig by the ear, as I did?”
“No, sir; about prevention being better than cure.”
“Yes, my boy; but what are you going to prevent instead of cure?”
“I want to prevent so much loss of life in our coal-pits, father.”
“Oh, my boy, my boy,” cried Mrs Hexton passionately; “don’t say you want to take up your father’s life!”
“Why not, mother dear?” said the young man firmly; “would it not be a good and a useful life, to devote one’s self to the better management of our mines—to studying nature’s forces, and the best way of fighting them for the saving of life?”
“But, my boy, my boy, think of the risks!”