“No, sir.”
“What do you want to be in life? Have you chosen a calling—a profession?”
The boy gave him a hesitating glance, and the Judge delicately changed his question. “Have you ever thought of being an actor, as your father was?”
The boy shuddered. “O, no, no!”
“Why not? Don’t you approve of the profession?”
Dallas hesitated a minute, then he said, “It’s not bad for those who get on; it’s awful for those who don’t.”
“Would you put your father in the latter class?”
“Yes, sir, but in this way only. He had poor health. If he had been strong he would have made his mark. He had brains and application enough to succeed. With his last breath he begged me not to follow his profession. Even if I wished to do so, that would keep me from it.”
The Judge made no comment, and presently Dallas went on: “I have been behind the scenes, sir. I suppose the public must have theaters, but they’re hard on girls and young men.”
“In what way?” asked the Judge, quietly.