But he had an optimism like a powerful spring, and it struck back now
with a whirr: "I'll tell you what, Luke. Just you wait till I'm rich,
then I'll give you a job as vice president, and you can marry Kitty and
live on Broadway, in Noo York."
"I've got over believin' in Sandy Claus," said Luke.
Joel saw little of him during this vacation and less during the next.
Being by nature a hater of despair, he avoided Luke. He had fits of
remorse for this, and once he dared to make a personal appeal to old Mr.
Mellows to send Luke away to school. He was received with scant
courtesy, and only tolerated because he gave the father a chance to void
some of his bile at the worthlessness of Luke.
"He's no good; that's what's the matter of him. And willful too--he just
mopes around because he wants to show me I'm wrong. But he's only
cuttin' off his own nose to spite his face. I'll learn him who's got the
most will power."
Joel was bold enough to suggest: "Maybe Luke would be differ'nt if you'd
let him go to college. You know, Mr. Mellows, if you'll 'scuse my saying
it, there's some natures that are differ'nt from others. You hitch a
race horse up to a plow and you spoil a good horse and your field both.
Seems to me as if, if Luke got a chance to be a writer or a professor or
something, he might turn out to be a wonder. You can't teach a canary
bird to be a hen, you know, and----"
Mr. Mellows locked himself in that ridiculous citadel of ancient folly.
"When you're as old as I am, Joel, you'll know more. The first thing
anybody's got to learn in this world is to respect their parents."