bold, free way.

I shook my head.

"Here's a newspaper," he added.

I took the paper and sat down--not to read, but to observe. Two or
three men soon came in, and spoke in a very familiar way to Frank,
who was presently busy setting out the liquors they had called
for. Their conversation, interlarded with much that was profane
and vulgar, was of horses, horse-racing, gunning, and the like, to
all of which the young bar-tender lent an attentive ear, putting
in a word now and then, and showing an intelligence in such
matters quite beyond his age. In the midst thereof, Mr. Slade made
his appearance. His presence caused a marked change in Frank, who
retired from his place among the men, a step or two outside of the
bar, and did not make a remark while his father remained. It was
plain from this, that Mr. Slade was not only aware of Frank's
dangerous precocity, but had already marked his forwardness by
rebuke.

So far, all that I had seen and heard impressed me unfavorably,
notwithstanding the declaration of Simon Slade, that everything
about the "Sickle and Sheaf" was coming on "first-rate," and that
he was "perfectly satisfied" with his experiment. Why, even if the
man had gained, in money, fifty thousand dollars by tavern-keeping
in a year, he had lost a jewel in the innocence of his boy that
was beyond all valuation. "Perfectly satisfied?" Impossible! He
was not perfectly satisfied. How could he be? The look thrown upon
Frank when he entered the bar-room, and saw him "hale fellow, well