Mark Forrester, who seemed piqued
at length by the unsatisfactory issue of all his endeavors to enlist the
familiarity and confidence of his companion. This Ralph soon discovered.
He had good sense and feeling enough to perceive the necessity of some
alteration in his habit, if he desired a better understanding with one
whose attendance, at the present time, was not only unavoidable but
indispensable--one who might be of use, and who was not only willing and
well-intentioned, but to all appearance honest and harmless, and to whom
he was already so largely indebted. With an effort, therefore, not so
much of mind as of mood, he broke the ice which his own indifference had
suffered to close, and by giving a legitimate excuse for the garrulity
of his companion, unlocked once more the treasurehouse of his good-humor
and volubility.
From the dialogue thus recommenced, we are enabled to take a farther
glance into the history of Forrester's early life. He was, as he phrased
it, from "old So. Ca." pronouncing the name of the state in the abridged
form of its written contraction. In one of the lower districts he still
held, in fee, a small but inefficient patrimony; the profits of which
were put to the use of a young sister. Times, however, had grown hard,
and with the impatience and restlessness so peculiar to nearly all
classes of the people of that state, Mark set out in pursuit of his
fortune among strangers. He loved from his childhood all hardy
enterprises; all employments calculated to keep his spirit from
slumbering in irksome quiet in his breast. He had no relish for the
labors of the plough, and looked upon the occupation of his forefathers
as by no means fitted for the spirit which, with little besides, they
had left him. The warmth, excitability, and restlessness which were his
prevailing features of temper, could not bear the slow process of
tilling, and cultivating the earth--watching the growth and generations
of pigs and potatoes, and listening to that favorite music with the
staid and regular farmer, the shooting of the corn in the still nights,
as it swells with a respiring movement, distending the contracted
sheaves which enclose it. In addition to this antipathy to the pursuits
of his ancestors, Mark had a decided desire, a restless ambition,
prompting him to see, and seek, and mingle with the world. He was fond,
as our readers may have observed already, of his own eloquence, and
having worn out the patience
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