He paused, and looked on the ground. Then suddenly raising his head, he
said, in a louder yet deeper tone, "But I won't forgive him! I know what
they say--he never meant me any harm! I shouldn't ha' gone to law they
say. But who made it so as there was no arbitrating and no justice to be
got? It signifies nothing to him--I know that he's one o' them fine
gentlemen as get money by doing business for poorer folks, and when he's
made beggars of 'em he'll give 'em charity. I won't forgive him! I wish
he might be punished with shame till his own son 'ud like to forget him.
And you mind this, Tom--you never forgive him, neither, if you mean to
be my son. Now write--write it i' the Bible!"

"Oh, father, what?" said Maggie. "It's wicked to curse and bear malice."

"It isn't wicked, I tell you," said her father, fiercely. "It's wicked
as the raskills should prosper--it's the devil's doing. Do as I tell
you, Tom! Write."

The big Bible was open at the beginning, where many family entries were
put down.

"What am I to write, father?" said Tom, with gloomy submission.

"Write as your father, Edward Tulliver, took service under John Wakem,
the man as had helped to ruin him, because I'd promised my wife to make
her what amends I could, and because I wanted to die in th' old place
where I was born, and my father was born. Put that i' the right
words--you know how--and then write as I don't forgive Wakem for all
that; and for all I'll serve him honest, I wish evil may befall him.
Write that."