nce, whom
I will not describe, as he will, I trust, show himself more effectually
by his actions, was like his mother in disposition, or so, at least, she
made herself happy by thinking; but by some freak of nature he was like
his father in person, and carried his mouse's heart in a huge frame,
somewhat hulking and heavy-shouldered, with the same roll which
distinguished Mr. Copperhead, and which betrayed something of the
original navvy who was the root of the race. He had his father's large
face too, and a tendency towards those demonstrative and offensive
whiskers which are the special inheritance of the British Philistine.
But instead of the large goggle eyes, always jeering and impudent, which
lighted up the paternal countenance, Clarence had a pair of mild brown
orbs, repeated from his mother's faded face, which introduced the oddest
discord into his physiognomy generally. In the family, that is to say
among the step-brothers and step-sisters who formed Mr. Copperhead's
first family, the young fellow bore no other name than that of the
curled darling, though, indeed, he was as far from being curled as any
one could be. He was not clever; he had none of the energy of his race,
and promised to be as useless in an office as he would have been in a
cutting or a yard full of men. I am not sure that this fact did not
increase secretly his father's exultation and pride in him. Mr.
Copperhead was fond of costly and useless things; he liked them for
their cost, with an additional zest in his sense of the huge vulgar use
and profit of most things in his own life. This tendency, more than any
appreciation of the beautiful, made him what is called a patron of art.
It swelled his personal importance to think that he was able to hang up
thousands of pounds, so to speak, on his walls, knowing all the time
that he could make thousands more by the money had he invested it in
more useful ways. The very fact that he could afford to refrain from
investing it, that he could let it lie there useless, hanging by so many
cords and ribbons, was sweet to him. And so also it was sweet to him to
possess a perfectly useless specimen of humanity, which had cost him a
great deal, and promised to cost him still more. He had plenty of useful
sons as he had of useful money. The one who was of no use was the apex
and glory of the whole.

But these three made up a strange enough family party, as may be
supposed. The original Copperheads, the first fa