"Well, I don't know but he does look as though he was getting old," said
the grocery man, as he took a piece of yellow wrapping paper and charged
the boy's poor old father with a dozen herrings and a pound of crackers;
"But there is no wonder he is getting old. I wouldn't go through what your
father has, the last year, for a million dollars. I tell you, boy, when
your father is dead, and you get a step-father, and he makes you walk the
chalk mark, you will realize what a bonanza you have fooled yourself out
of by killing off your father. The way I figure it, your father will last
about six months, and you ought to treat him right, the little time he has
to live."
"Well, I am going to," said the boy, as he picked the herring bones out of
his teeth with a piece of a match that he sharpened with his knife. "But I
don't believe in borrowing trouble about a step-father so long before
hand. I don't think Ma could get a man to step into Pa's shoes, as long as
I lived, not if she was inlaid with diamonds, and owned a brewery. There
are brave men, I know, that are on the marry, but none of them would want
to be brevet father to a cherubim like me, except he got pretty good
wages. And then, since Pa was dissected he is going to lead a different
life, and I guess I will make a man of him, if he holds out.
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