Hide and Seek | Page 4

"I have no objection, if you
wish, to your going and trying what you can do towards overcoming
the obstinacy of this unhappy child."
Mrs. Thorpe took the key, and went up stairs immediately--went up to
do what all women have done, from the time of the first mother; to do
what Eve did when Cain was wayward in his infancy, and cried at her
breast--in short, went up to coax her child.
Mr. Thorpe, when his wife closed the door, carefully looked down the
open page on his knee for the place where he had left off--found

it--referred back a moment to the last lines of the preceding leaf--and
then went on with his book, not taking the smallest notice of Mr.
Goodworth.
"Thorpe!" cried the old gentleman, plunging head-foremost again, into
his son-in-law's reading this time instead of his talk, "You may say
what you please; but your notion of bringing up Zack is a wrong one
altogether."
With the calmest imaginable expression of face, Mr. Thorpe looked up
from his book; and, first carefully putting a paper-knife between the
leaves, placed it on the table. He then crossed one of his legs over the
other, rested an elbow on each arm of his chair, and clasped his hands
in front of him. On the wall opposite hung several lithographed
portraits of distinguished preachers, in and out of the
Establishment--mostly represented as very sturdily-constructed men
with bristly hair, fronting the spectator interrogatively and holding
thick books in their hands. Upon one of these portraits--the name of the
original of which was stated at the foot of the print to be the Reverend
Aaron Yollop--Mr. Thorpe now fixed his eyes, with a faint approach to
a smile on his face (he never was known to laugh), and with a look and
manner which said as plainly as if he had spoken it: "This old man is
about to say something improper or absurd to me; but he is my wife's
father, it is my duty to bear with him, and therefore I am perfectly
resigned."
"It's no use looking in that way, Thorpe," growled the old gentleman;
"I'm not to be put down by looks at my time of life. I may have my own
opinions I suppose, like other people; and I don't see why I shouldn't
express them, especially when they relate to my own daughter's boy.
It's very unreasonable of me, I dare say, but I think I ought to have a
voice now and then in Zack's bringing up."
Mr. Thorpe bowed respectfully--partly to Mr. Goodworth, partly to the
Reverend Aaron Yollop. "I shall always be happy, sir, to listen to any
expression of your opinion--"
"My opinion's this," burst out Mr. Goodworth. "You've no business to

take Zack to church at all, till he's some years older than he is now. I
don't deny that there may be a few children, here and there, at six years
old, who are so very patient, and so very--(what's the word for a child
that knows a deal more than he has any business to know at his age?
Stop! I've got it!--precocious--that's the word)--so very patient and so
very precocious that they will sit quiet in the same place for two hours;
making believe all the time that they understand every word of the
service, whether they really do or not. I don't deny that there may be
such children, though I never met with them myself, and should think
them all impudent little hypocrites if I did! But Zack isn't one of that
sort: Zack's a genuine child (God bless him)! Zack--"
"Do I understand you, my dear sir," interposed Mr. Thorpe, sorrowfully
sarcastic, "to be praising the conduct of my son in disturbing the
congregation, and obliging me to take him out of church?"
"Nothing of the sort," retorted the old gentleman; "I'm not praising
Zack's conduct, but I am blaming yours. Here it is in plain words:--You
keep on cramming church down his throat; and he keeps on puking at it
as if it was physic, because he don't know any better, and can't know
any better at his age. Is that the way to make him take kindly to
religious teaching? I know as well as you do, that he roared like a
young Turk at the sermon. And pray what was the subject of the
sermon? Justification by Faith. Do you mean to tell me that he, or any
other child at his time of life, could understand anything of such a
subject as that; or get an atom of good out of it? You can't--you know
you can't! I say again, it's no use taking him to church yet; and what's
more, it's worse than no use, for you only associate his