of about the proper training for a healthy male human. I don't suppose
I'll ever have a chance to demonstrate my wisdom, but, if I do, there are
a few things that won't happen to my boy.

If I've got a comfortable wad of my own, the boy shall have his fun
without any nagging, so long as he keeps clean and honest. He shall go to
any college he may choose--and right here is where my wisdom will sit up
and get busy. If I'm fool enough to let that kid have more money than is
healthy for him, and if I go to sleep while he's wising up to the art of
making it fade away without leaving anything behind to tell the tale, and
learning a lot of habits that aren't doing him any good, I won't come down
on him with both feet and tell him all the different brands of fool he's
been, and mourn because the Lord in His mercy laid upon me this burden of
an unregenerate son. I shall try and remember that he's the son of his
father, and not expect too much of him. It's long odds I shall find points
of resemblance a-plenty between us--and the more cussedness he develops,
the more I shall see myself in him reflected.

I don't mean to be hard on dad. He was always good to me, in his way. He's
got more things than a son to look after, and as that son is supposed to
have a normal allowance of gray matter and is no physical weakling, he
probably took it for granted that the son could look after himself--which
the mines and railroads and ranches that represent his millions can't.

But it wasn't giving me a square deal. He gave me an allowance and paid
my debts besides, and let me amble through school at my own gait--which
wasn't exactly slow--and afterward let me go. If I do say it, I had lived
a fairly decent sort of life. I belonged to some good clubs--athletic,
mostly--and trained regularly, and was called a fair boxer among the
amateurs. I could tell to a glass--after a lot of practise--just how much