Page:History of Duncan Campbell, and his dog Oscar (3).pdf/20

 seemed attached at first sight. Lexy, my dear said he, did you see my spectacles? Yes, said she, I think I saw them on your nose to-day, at breakfast. Well, but I have lost them since, said he. You may take up the next you find, Sir, said she—The servants laughed. I might well have known what information I would get of you, said he regretfully. How can you speak in such a style to your father, my dear lady? said Duncan. If I were he, I would place you where you would learn better manners. And it ill becomes so pretty a young lady to address an old father thus. He said she, who minds him? He’s a dotard, an old whining, complaining, superannuated being, worse than a child. But consider his years, said Duncan, and besides, he may have met with crosses and losses sufficient to sour the temper of a young man. You should at all events, pity and reverence, but never despise your father. The old lady now joined them. You have yet heard nothing, young man, said the old laird, if you saw how my heart is sometimes wrung. Yes, I have had losses indeed. You losses! said his spouse, No; you never had any losses that did not in the end turn out a vast profit. Do you then count the loss of a loving wifowife [sic] and son nothing? said he. But have you not got a loving wife and a daughter in their room? returned she; the one will not waste your fortune as a prodigal son would have done and the other will takotake [sic] care of both you and that, when you can no longer do either—the loss of your son, indeed; it was the greatest blessing you could have received. Unfeeling woman, said he; but heaven may yet restore that son to protect the grey hairs of his old father and lay his head in an honoured grave.—The old man’s spirits were quite gone—he cried like a child