Son Philip | Page 2

of no use--only a tailor's
dummy to wear fine clothes."
"Oh no, father; I mean to take to a business life," said Philip Hexton
quickly.
"Of course, my lad; and you'll do well in it. I began life in a pair of
ragged breeches that didn't fit me, shoving the corves of coal in a mine;
and now," he exclaimed proudly, "I'm partner as well as manager in our
pit. So what I say is, if I could do what I have done, beginning life in a
pair of ragged breeches that didn't fit me, why, what can my boy do, as
has had a first-class education, and can have money to back him?"
"My dear James," said Mrs Hexton, "I do wish you would not be so
fond of talking about those--those--"

"Ragged breeches, mother?" said the old fellow, chuckling; "but I will.
That's her pride, Phil, my boy. Now she wears caps made of real lace,
she wants to forget how humble she used to be."
"Nothing of the kind, James," said the pleasant lady tartly; "I'm not
ashamed of our humble beginnings, but I am ashamed to make vulgar
remarks."
"That's a knock-down, Phil, my boy," said Mr Hexton. "There, I won't
mention them again, mother. But come, we are running away from our
subject. I'm heartily glad to see you back, Phil," he cried; and there was
a little moisture gathered in his eyes as he spoke; "and I thank God to
see that you have grown into so fine, healthy, and sturdy a fellow. God
bless you, my boy! God bless you!"
He had left his seat at the foot of the table, and came round to stand
beside his son, patting his shoulder, and then taking and wringing his
hand. He half bent down, too, once, as if to kiss the broad sunburnt
forehead, but altered his mind directly, as he thought it would be weak,
and ended by going and sitting down once more.
"There's plenty of time, of course," he said, "but somehow I shouldn't
dislike to have it settled. Have you ever thought about the matter,
Phil?"
"Yes, father, deeply," said the young man, rising, and then standing
holding his mother's hand. "I like sport, and games, and a bit of
idleness sometimes, especially for a Continental trip."
"Well, if you call that idleness, Phil," said the elder, rubbing his legs,
"give me the hardest day's work in the pit. Remember our climbing up
the Gummy Pass, mother, last year?"
"Oh, don't talk about it, father," said the old lady. "But then we are not
so young as we used to be. Go on, Philip, my dear."
She held on tightly by her son's hand as she spoke, and kept gazing up
at him with a wonderfully proud look.

"Well, father, as I say, I like a bit of change."
"Of course, my lad; all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy."
"But I think it is the duty of every young man--boy, if you like,
mother," he said, smiling.
"Young man, Philip," she replied, "for I'm sure you've grown into a
very fine young man."
"Ugly as possible," growled the father, with a twinkle in his eye.
"I'm sure he's a much finer and handsomer young man than you were
when I married you, father!" said the old lady with spirit.
"Oh, of course!" chuckled Mr Hexton; "he's lovely! Phil, boy, pray use
scented soap and plenty of pomatum."
"Come, father, let's set aside joking for the time," said Philip quietly.
"I'm very glad to get home again, and to find my mother so proud and
happy to have me back--and you, too, sir."
Mr Hexton nodded, and changed his position a little.
"You want to know what I mean to settle to be, sir?"
"Yes, my boy; I should like to know."
"Well, father, I'll tell you, for I have thought of it long and deeply, and I
have studied chemistry a good deal for that end."
"Bravo, Phil!" said Mr Hexton. "A doctor, mother; I thought as much."
"No, sir, not a doctor; though I think a medical man's a grand
profession, and one only yet in its infancy. But I want to be of some use,
father, in my career. I want to save life as a medical man does. You
know the old saying, father?"
"About getting the wrong pig by the ear, as I did?"

"No, sir; about prevention being better than cure."
"Yes, my boy; but what are you going to prevent instead of cure?"
"I want to prevent so much loss of life in our coal-pits, father."
"Oh, my boy, my boy," cried Mrs Hexton passionately; "don't say you
want to take up your father's life!"
"Why not, mother dear?" said the young man