'It's
nothing at all partickler, Joseph. Tell me something about the
Salwanners.' Having preferred this request, Mr Willet chuckled a third
time, and after these unusual demonstrations of levity, he put his pipe
in his mouth again.
'What shall I tell you, father?' asked Joe, laying his hand upon his
sire's shoulder, and looking down into his face. 'That I have come back,
poorer than a church mouse? You know that. That I have come back, maimed
and crippled? You know that.'
'It was took off,' muttered Mr Willet, with his eyes upon the fire, 'at
the defence of the Salwanners, in America, where the war is.'
'Quite right,' returned Joe, smiling, and leaning with his remaining
elbow on the back of his father's chair; 'the very subject I came to
speak to you about. A man with one arm, father, is not of much use in
the busy world.'
This was one of those vast propositions which Mr Willet had never
considered for an instant, and required time to 'tackle.' Wherefore he
made no answer.
'At all events,' said Joe, 'he can't pick and choose his means of
earning a livelihood, as another man may. He can't say "I will turn my
hand to this," or "I won't turn my hand to that," but must take what he
can do, and be thankful it's no worse.
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