He waited a minute or two, then he went on firmly: “This was not blind impulse. I have all my life known that it was not good for a child to be brought up alone. Being alone tends to egotism. We are very happy, you and I, yet I know it would be better for you to have another lad to share your sorrows and joys.”
“H-h-he might fight me,” said Titus, gloomily.
“I shall get one much younger than you,” replied the Judge.
“O-O-O!” said Titus, easily, “then I can lick him.”
“Titus,” said the Judge, “you know that there are boys and girls in the world less favored than yourself.”
“Y-y-yes, sir, but they are dirty and lazy, and they have awful manners.”
“If we get a young child we can mold him. I feel it my duty, boy. I have enough for you and another lad. There is a fearful amount of suffering in the world. We should do what we can to lessen it.”
“I-I-I don’t want one of those River Street cubs,” said Titus, sharply.
“I shall take the greatest pains to get a boy of good antecedents,” said the Judge, decidedly. “You know that my profession has brought me into contact with crime and criminals. I have a horror of inherited vicious tendencies.”
“A-a-all right, sir,” replied Titus, with a sigh. “If you’ve promised we’ve got to do it,” and getting up he walked over to his grandfather and threw his arm over his shoulder.