Riches, and fame, and even his big name couldn’t make up for the loss of the tender counsels and broodin’ love of a mother.
His father jest thought his eyes on him. But he couldn’t seem to stop fumblin’ that watch-chain of hisen, and stop a talkin’ them big words, and descend from his ambitious plans of self-advancement to come down to his little boy’s level and talk to him in a lovin’ way.
Little Raymond looked up to his Pa with a sort of a admirin’ awe, jest about as the Jonesville children would to the President.
I believe Senator Coleman had ambitions to be one. I believe my soul he did. Anyway, his ambitions wuz all personal. Havin’ made himself so fur, he wuz bound to put all the adornin’s and embellishin’s onto his work that he could.
I see that he wanted to be made President to once, and the thought that the nation wouldn’t do it rankled in him.
And the fear that somebody else wuz a goin’ to get higher than he wuz in political life wore on him.
His sharp, piercin’ eyes wuz a watchin’ the ever-shiftin’ horizon of our national affairs, the ever-changin’ winds of public favor, hopin’ they would blow him up into greater prominence, fearin’ they would dash him down into a lower place.
The feverishness of perpetual onrest seemed to be a burnin’ him all the time, and the fear that he should do or say sunthin’ to incur the displeasure of the multitude.
What a time, what a time he wuz a havin’!
You could see it all in his linement; yes, ambition and selfishness had ploughed lots of lines in his handsome face, and ploughed ’em deep.