“Then you’re elected.”
“I’m going to tackle him before I go home.”
“Don’t rush him. There’s a superstition prevalent here that the old gentleman has no idea of ever letting his daughter leave that home, and that he will never give his consent, when driven to the wall, unless his son-inlaw that is to be, will agree to settle down there and take his place in those big mills. He has two great loves, his daughter and his mills, and he don’t mean to let either one of them go if he can help it.”
“Do you believe it’s true?”
“Yes, I do. How do you like the idea?”
“It’s not my style. I’ve a pretty clear idea of what I’m going to do in this world.”
“Well, you’d better begin to haul in your silk sails, and study cotton goods, is my advice.”
“I ’ll manage him.”
“I don’t know about it, but if you’ve got her, you’re the first man that ever got far enough to measure himself with the General. I wish you luck.”
“You the same, old chum. May you conquer Boston and all the Pilgrim Fathers!”