The Argosy — page 309: what you’re looking at

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

290 In the Past. one you will receive your aunt’s money. In the meantime I would advise you—though doubtless you will consider, as you always have, my advice valueless—I would advise you to give up your evil ways and companions, and try a little honest work. You will not find it among the set you have cultivated. Hitherto you have led an idle —worse than an idle life. There is a rude awakening in store for you if you think to earn a livelihood by what you call your ‘ literary talent.’ Try a little honest work,” he continued, again ignoring the interruption: ‘‘and in the meantime the twenty pounds you will find in that envelope on the table will keep you from want. That is all you need expect from me.” Mr. Dewar turned away, to intimate that the interview was at an end, and Frank moved towards the door with a strange new feeling at his heart, and wondering, poor fellow, whether it would be proper, under the circumstances, for him to proffer an adieu of any kind to his father. He was too proud, however, to take the initiative. As he reached the door, his father’s voice stopped him. * You have forgotten the money.” ‘‘T have forgotten nothing,” replied the young man. “If I cease to be your son, I will not remain a dependent upon you.” Then he opened the door and passed out. As he crossed the hall a hand was stretched from an opposite door, and he was drawn into a room where, in the darkness, his mother’s arms encircled him and her low sobs beat against his breast. ‘You must not go, Frank,” she whispered at last. ‘* Mother, I must. How can [ stay now?” © T will speak to your father.” ‘ He will not listen to you this time. He has held this threat of excommunication over me for a long time—until he has grown to believe that I tremble at the thought of it. Now he has resolved to carry it out. Let him do so.” “Frank, I can’t let you go. I must speak to him first.” ‘Vou will only humiliate us both, mother.” No, Frank. I promise you I shall not. Only a few words with him. Wait here for me.” Then she glided from the room, paused in the hall for a moment to collect herself, and entered her husband’s presence. It was agony for the son’s proud heart to feel that his cold, harsh father was being pleaded with for his sake—an agony he had felt before, and endured for the sake of his mother’s love. For himself he had no fears of the sentence of banishment. He was young, brave and sanguine, and the sips he had had of life had served only to stimulate his thirst. The prospect of release from the galling restraint of home inspired within him, not dread, but the most exhilarating anticipation. Mrs. Dewar stood by her husband’s chair with outward composure. Only the paleness of her face and the traces of recent weeping about COMIC OOOKS. EO