“You're poorer than I thought, if seventy-five dollars will cripple you,” said Eben, who knew his father's circumstances too well to be moved by this representation.
“I shall be in the poorhouse before many years if I undertake to pay all your bills, Eben.”
After all, this was not, perhaps, an exaggeration, for a spendthrift son can get through a great deal of money.
“I can't get along without money, father,” said Eben, decidedly. “How can I buy cigars, let alone other things?”
“I don't want you to smoke cigars. You'll be a great deal better off without them,” said his father, sharply.
“I understand; it's necessary to my health,” said Eben, rather absurdly.
“You won't smoke at my expense,” said Ebenezer, decidedly. “I don't smoke myself, and I never knew any good come of it.”
“All the same, I must have some money. What will people say about a young man of my age not having a cent in his pocket? They think my father is very mean.”
“I'll allow you fifty cents a week,” said Mr. Graham, after a pause.
“That won't do! You seem to think I am only six or seven years old!”