“What does a sober man like that ride such a skittish thing for?” asked Mr. Woodburn.
“Because,” said George, “I was going to say, he is an old fool; but the fact is people always do ride animals like themselves.”
“What! Do you think a man like a horse?” exclaimed Ann.
“To a certain degree,” said George, “a little podgy man like David Qualm is sure to select a little podgy horse, a tall slim fellow fancies only a tall slim horse, and so on. It is the same with sticks; men always carry sticks very like themselves, slender or stout, clean or knotty and gnarled: and dogs too, have always a certain resemblance to their masters. And wives—people wonder that husbands and wives are often so alike. It is because men see a likeness to themselves in a woman, and that delights them. They fall in love with their own dear selves in falling in love with a woman. But enough; you can discuss this bit of philosophy while I run up and see how poor old David really is.”
“Oh, thank you, thank you, George!” said Letty, as George took down his hat and disappeared. In a very short time he returned, and said—
“I’ve seen Qualm. He has not much amiss with him, but he is very angry with Harry, who, however, only seems to have taken off his hat to compliment the gentlemen as they passed. True, David says they cried out to him to keep his hat on, but the fact was, the hat was off when they cried out. You might as well tell a man not to shoot when he has already pulled the trigger.”
“I don’t see, then,” said Letty, “that Harry was really to blame; it was only his courtesy.”
“Of course not,” said George; and Letty, much relieved, went off with the other ladies to bed.
When she was gone, George said to his father, “I would not make Letty anxious, or she would be tormenting herself all night, but I don’t at all like this doing of Thorsby’s. It was clearly a designed thing of his, from what I hear. I know he has a pique against David Qualm; and, in fact, I am very anxious about Thorsby. I hear in Castleborough continually of his wild goings-on with that scapegrace set of young fellows that I hoped he had long ago cut.”
“I have heard the same,” said Mr. Woodburn, “and have spoken more than once to Thorsby on the subject, and he has always promised to reform; but my opinion is that he is just as weak as a bulrush. He can’t help himself. It is a very serious affair.”