“Except the little ones,” admitted Johnny.
To Johnny's wild astonishment, Aunt Janet seized him by the shoulders and looked him in the eyes with a look of adoration and immense approval. “Thank goodness,” said she, “at last there is going to be a fighter in the Trumbull family. Your uncle would never fight, and your father would not. Your grandfather would. Your uncle and your father are good men, though; you must try to be like them, Johnny.”
“Yes, ma'am,” replied Johnny, bewildered.
“I think they would be called better men than your grandfather and my father,” said Aunt Janet.
“Yes, ma'am.”
“I think it is time for you to have your grandfather's watch,” said Aunt Janet. “I think you are man enough to take care of it.” Aunt Janet had all the time been holding a black leather case. Now she opened it, and Johnny saw the great gold watch which he had seen many times before and had always understood was to be his some day, when he was a man. “Here,” said Aunt Janet. “Take good care of it. You must try to be as good as your uncle and father, but you must remember one thing—you will wear a watch which belonged to a man who never allowed other men to crowd him out of the way he elected to go.”
“Yes, ma'am,” said Johnny. He took the watch.
“What do you say?” inquired his aunt, sharply.
“Thank you.”
“That's right. I thought you had forgotten your manners. Your grandfather never did.”