"By what arrangement with Mr. Culverson did you leave it?" Mr.
Culverson was the Barbadoes merchant by whom Edward had been employed.

"Culverson!" echoed Ned, with a grin. "I doubt there was little love
lost between me and Culverson! 'Culverson,' says I, 'the place is a
hole, and the next vessel bound for New York, I go on her.' 'And a
damned good riddance!' says Culverson (begging your pardon! I'm only
quoting what the man said), and that was the only arrangement I
remember of."

"And so that you are here, what now?" inquired Mr. Faringfield,
looking as if he appreciated Mr. Culverson's sentiments.

"Why, sir, as for that, I think 'tis for you to say."

"Indeed, sir?"

"Yes, sir, seeing that I'm your son, whom you're bound to provide
for."

"You are twenty-two, I think," says Mr. Faringfield.

"I take it, a few paltry years more or less don't alter my rights, or
the responsibilities of a parent. Don't think, sir, I shall stand up
and quietly see myself robbed of my birthright. I'm no longer the man
to play the Esek, or Esock, or whatever--"

"Esau," prompted Fanny, in a whisper.

"And my mouth isn't to be stopped by any mess of porridge."