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Cooke, John Esten, 1830-1886

"Mohun, or, the Last Days of Lee"

You respect family."
"Who does not? There are those who profess to care naught for it, but
it is because they are new-comers."
"Yes," was the journalist's reply, "mushrooms--and very dirty ones!"
I laughed at the speaker's grimace.
"For my own part," I said, "I do not pretend to be indifferent whether
or not my father was a gentleman. I bow as politely to the new-comer as
if it were the Conqueror he came over with; but still I am glad my
father was a gentleman. I hope no one will quarrel with that."
"You are mistaken. They will hate you for it."
"You are right--but I interrupted you."
"I am glad the interruption came, colonel, for it gave you an
opportunity of showing me that my views and your own are in exact
accord on this subject. I will proceed, therefore, without ceremony, to
tell you what I design doing some day."
I listened with attention. It is always interesting to look into the
recesses of a remarkable man's character. This human being was notable
in an epoch filled with notabilities; and chance was about to give me
an insight into his secret thoughts.
He twirled a paper-cutter in his fingers, reflected a moment, and
said:--
"I am still young--not very young either, for I will soon be forty--but
I know no young man who has better prospects than myself, and few who
have done so well.


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