"The reins of a flaming chariot can't
drag me from him. Was he not father to me? Much he handed and more he
promised."
"Great is your avarice," Simon declared.
"Fonder he was of me than any one," Annie cried. "The birthdays he
presented me with dresses--until he was sacked. While I was cribbing,
did he not speak well to my buyer? Fitting I stay with him this day."
"I was his chief friend," said Simon. "We were closer than brothers. So
grand was he to me that I could howl once more. Iss, I could preach a
funeral sermon on my brother Shacob."
Jacob's virtues were truly related. Much had the man done for his
younger brother and sisters; albeit his behavior was vain, ornamenting
his person garishly and cheaply, and comporting himself foolishly.
Summer by summer he went to Wales and remained there two weeks; and he
gave a packet of tea or coffee to every widow who worshiped in the
capel, and a feast of tea and currant bread and carraway-seed cake to
the little children of the capel.
Wheedlers flattered him for gain: "The watch of a nobleman you carry"
and "The ring would buy a field," said those about Sion; "Never seen a
more exact fact simily of King George in my life than you," cried
spongers in London public-houses.
Pages:
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150