“Aren't you having it? What can be more important than the successes of James K. Farnum?”
The senior looked at him suspiciously. He was not strongly fortified with a sense of humor. “Just now I want to talk about the failures of Jefferson D. Farnum,” he answered gravely.
Jeff's eyes twinkled. “Is it worth while? I am unworthy of this boon, O great Cesar.”
“Now that's the sort of thing that stands in your way,” James told him impatiently. “People never know when you're laughing at them. There is no reason why you shouldn't succeed. Your abilities are up to the average, but you fritter them away.”
“Thank you.” Jeff wore an air of being immensely pleased.
“The truth is that you're your own worst enemy. Now that you have taken to dressing better you are not bad looking. I find a good many of the fellows like you—or they would if you'd let them.”
“Because I'm so well connected,” Jeff laughed.
“I suppose it does help, your being my cousin. But the thing depends on you. Unless you make a decided change you'll never get on.”
“What change do you suggest? Item one, please?”
James looked straight at him. “You lack bedrock principles, Jeff.”