"Don't you ever say such a thing as that again!" he snorted. "Why,
confound your hide! would you have that boy dead?"

DeGolyer threw down his pen. "No, I would have him live forever in his
thoughtless and beautiful paradise; I would not pull him down to the
thoughtful man's hell of self-communion."

"Look here, young man, you must have a history."

"No, simply an ill-written essay."

"Who was your father?"

"A fool."

"Ah, I grant you. And who was your mother?"

"An angel."

"No, sir, she--I beg your pardon," the old man quickly added. "You are
sensitive, sir."

DeGolyer, sadly smiling, replied: "He who suffered in childhood, and
who in after life has walked hand in hand with disappointment, and is
then not sensitive, is a brute."

"How well do I know the truth of that! DeGolyer, I have been
acquainted with you but a short time, but you appeal to me strongly,
sir. And I could almost tell you something, but it is something that I