the luxurious era of canopied
hammock chairs.)

In my devious childish fashion, I presently gathered that there had
been momentous doings in London town that day, and that in the upshot
my father had terminated his connection with the famous newspaper from
which the bulk of his earnings had been drawn for some years. For a
little while I fancied this must be almost as delightful for him as my
own unexpected escape from the Academy that afternoon had been for me.
But, gradually, my embryo intelligence rejected this theory, and I
became possessed of a sense of grave happenings, almost, it might be,
of catastrophe. Quite certainly, my father had never before talked to
me as he did that summer afternoon in Richmond Park. His vein was, for
him, somewhat declamatory, and his unusual gestures impressed me
hugely. It is likely that at times he forgot my presence, or ceased,
at all events, to remember that his companion was his child. His
massive, silver-headed malacca cane did great execution among the
bracken, I remember.

(I had been rather pleased for my school-mates to have had an
opportunity of observing this stick, and had regretted the absence of
my father's usual hat, equal in refulgence to the cane. Evidently, he
had called at the house and changed his head-gear before walking up to
the Academy, for he now wore the soft black hat which he called his
'wideawake.')

That he was occasionally conscious of me his monologue proved, for it
included such swift, jerky sentences as:

'Remember that, my son. Have nothing to do with this accursed trade of
ink-spilling. Literary work! God save the mark!' (I wondered what
particular ink 'mark' this referred to.) 'The purse-proud wretches
think they buy your soul with their starveling cheques. Ten years' use
of my brain; ten years wasted in slavish pot-boiling for them; and
then--then, this!'

'This,' I imagine, was dismissal; accepted resignation, say. I
gathered that my father had been free to do his work where he chose;
that he had used the newspaper office only as a place in which to
consult with his editor before writing; and that now some new broom in
the office was changing all that; that my father had been bidden to
attend a certain desk during stated hours to perform routine work each
day; that he had protested, refused, and closed his connection with
the journal, after a heated interview with some managerial bashaw.

In the light of all I now know, I apprehend that