Son Philip

Son Philip, by George Manville
Fenn

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Title: Son Philip
Author: George Manville Fenn
Illustrator: Anonymous
Release Date: May 8, 2007 [EBook #21382]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SON
PHILIP ***

Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England

Son Philip, by George Manville Fenn.
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Philip is the son of an old mine-owner. His father and mother would
have liked him to become something other than an overseer in their
mine, but it is what Philip wants to be.
Some of the men are engaging in dangerous practices, and deeply
resent it when Philip pulls them up over them. One of them swears that
he will put his mark on Philip.
Under Philip's guidance the mine begins to run well, but still some of
the men are resentful of not being allowed to smoke even though there
is gas in the mine.
At this point there are a couple of those George Manville Fenn
situations, which find you wondering "how ever will Philip get out of
this?"
And so the book ends, with Philip running a really successful mine,
with a good accident record. How does he do it?
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SON PHILIP, BY GEORGE MANVILLE FENN.
CHAPTER ONE.
THEIR BOY.
"Well, why not be a soldier?"
Philip Hexton shook his head.
"No, father. There's something very brave in a soldier's career; but I
should like to save life, not destroy it."
"You would save life in times of trouble; fight for your country, and
that sort of thing."

"No, father; I shall not be a soldier."
"A sailor, then?"
"I have not sufficient love of adventure, father."
"Oh no, my boy, don't be a sailor," said Mrs Hexton piteously. "I have
had sufferings enough over your father's risks in the mine."
"No, no, Phil; you must not be a sailor," said sturdy, grey-haired old
Hexton, laughing. "I should never get a wink of sleep if you did. Every
time the wind blew your mother would be waking me up to ask me if I
didn't think you were wrecked."
"No, dear; I shall not be a sailor," said Philip Hexton; and leaving his
chair at the breakfast table he went round to his mother's side, sank
down on one knee, passed his arm around her, and drew her to his
broad breast.
It was a pleasant sight to see the look of pride come into the mother's
face, as she laid one hand upon her son's shoulder, and pressed a few
loose strands of hair away from his thoughtful forehead, which
wrinkled slightly, and there was a look of anxiety in his face as he
looked tenderly at the loving woman.
"That's right, Phil dear," she said; "don't choose any life that is full of
risks."
"Don't try to make a milksop of him, mother," said Mr Hexton,
laughing. "Why, one would think Phil was ten years old, instead of
twenty. I say, my boy, had she aired your night-cap for you last night,
and warmed the bed?"
"Well, I must confess to the warm bed, father," said the young man. "A
night-cap I never wear."
"I thought so," said Mr Hexton, chuckling. "You must not stop at home,
Phil. She'll want you to have camomile tea three times a week."

"You may joke as much as you like, Hexton," said his wife, bridling,
"but no one shall ever say that I put anybody into a damp bed; and as
for the camomile tea, many a time has it given you health when you
have been ailing."
"Why, you don't think I ever took any of the stuff you left out for me,
do you?"
"Of course, dear."
"Never took a glass of it," said Old Hexton, chuckling. "Threw it all out
of the window."
"Then it was a great shame," said Mrs Hexton angrily, "and a very bad
example to set to your son."
"Never mind, Phil; don't you take it," chuckled Mr Hexton. Then
becoming serious he went on: "Well, there's no hurry, my boy; only
now that you are back from Germany, and can talk High Dutch and
Low Dutch, and French, and all the rest of it, why it is getting time to
settle what you are to do. I could allow you so much a year, and let you
be a gentleman, with nothing to do, if I liked; but I don't hold with a
young fellow going through life and being