Darke Darrell, the Boy Detective — page 17: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

8 DARKE DARRELL. bad and going to the bad, I mean. It’s nothing but ill- luck, day in and day out. If father wasn’t such a——” He was beginning to speak with vehemence, but his mother interrupted him. ‘¢ Hush, dear boy!” her hot hand loene on his. ‘hese outbursts pain me exceedingly, and I know you wouldn’t willingly cause me pain. You must be patient, forgiving, prayerful.” “You can be that, riiobher, but I can’t. I’m no saint. It isn’t in me to be good. I must give back blow for blow, and it seems to me everybody has a pelt at me,” grimly, boy-like. : : «< Am I not patienty Darke?” “You!” strongly, with a sudden gush of tenderness. © You cash every draft on it, with a vaultful in reserve. It is your patience that makes me so restless. I cannot attain toit. Maybe I don’t try. Vd be crushed out. One’s got to fight. This isn’t Paradise; it’s a wilderness. The rich thrive, and the poor might look for quails and manna until their eyes ached.” ‘Why am I so patient?” not feeding his irreverence. “Why?” pushing the damp hair from his forehead. “« Because you have built on the Rock.” «< Yes, dear boy,” her voice growing inestimably sweet, a saintly look irradiating her face. ‘‘ Bring that low stool, and rest your head in my lap. I want to talk to you. You will be much stronger afterward. It will be a different _ kind of strength. You will fight adversity all the more bravely, but with credit to yourself, with credit to me, with the approval of your Heavenly Father.” He brought the low stool, seated himself upon it; then rested his head on her knees, his eyes lifted to her face. She spoke for half an hour about life’s duties and life’s privileges, and the preparation needful for the life which is cComicbooks.co