"He called me a puppy—called me a puppy!"
"You shouldn't bark so loud, then. I don't know that any but puppies interrupt people who are busy in conversation. When will you learn to keep still, Fitz?"
"When! When justice and humanity no longer require me to speak in tones of thunder against oppression! Mother, we have struck the enemy a fatal blow! Didn't you see him cringe?"
"No, I didn't see him cringe. I am only sorry that I consented to have this suit brought against Mr. Checkynshaw."
"O, mother! After all, you are only a woman!"
"Stop your nonsensical talk, Fitz! Why don't you go out and try to find a place to work?"
"A place to work!" sneered Fitz. "In a few weeks—be it a few months, if you please—we shall be in possession of that block of stores, with fifty thousand dollars in the bank. What need have I of a place? Besides, I have this trial to look out for."
"I think your father can attend to that better without you than with you."
"Father means well, and I trust he will do well," added the hopeful son, patronizingly. "But father's infirmity has weakened him. He is only the ghost of what he was."
"Are you not ashamed of yourself to speak of your father in that way, Fitz? Don't you make another such remark as that; if you do, you shall not stay in the house with him. Your father has more knowledge and experience in one hair of his head than you have in the whole of your silly brain."