"In my opinion you'll do well to let the matter lie where it is. How
will you look making inquiries about sick folk as if you had a great
fortune to spend upon philanthropy, when it turns out that you have
none? If you'd not spent all my money on your own schooling, perhaps
you'd have some to play the fine gentleman with now, and send a hospital
and its staff on this same schooner." (This was the first reproach of
his son's extravagance which had ever passed his lips; it betokened
passion indeed.) "If you write you can't do less than send a case of
medicines, and who is to pay for them, I'd like to know? I'm pretty well
cleared out. They're a hardened lot of wreckers on those islands--I've
heard that told of them many a time. No doubt their own filth and bad
living has brought disease upon them, if there's truth in the tale; and
as to this strange woman, giving no testimony or certificate of her
respectability, it's a queer thing if she's to begin and teach you
religion and duty. It's a bold and impudent letter, and I suppose you've
enough sense left, with all your new fangles, to see that you can't do
all she asks. What do you think you can do? If you think I'm going to
pay for charity boxes to be sent to people I've no opinion of, when all
the missionary subscriptions will be due come the new year, you think
great nonsense, that's all.
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