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"Never mind, my son," Cheyne insisted. "You're investing your capital where it'll bring in the best returns; and I guess you won't find our property shrunk any when you're ready to take hold. Think it over, and let me know in the morning. Hurry! We'll be late for supper!"
A welcome companion to the author's famous 'Introduction. No man can read these discourses without feeling that Dr. Driver is fully alive to the deeper teaching of the Old Testament. Guardian. CHEYNE. FOUNDERS OF OLD TESTAMENT CRITICISM: Biographical, Descriptive, and Critical Studies. By T.K. CHEYNE, D.D., Oriel Professor of the Interpretation of Holy Scripture at Oxford.
But the appeal to Ralph's humanity had little chance of being heard to-day; he was no longer a model of concentration. The partition so carefully erected between the different sections of his life had been broken down, with the result that though his eyes were fixed upon the last Will and Testament, he saw through the page a certain drawing-room in Cheyne Walk.
"She jest despises the ocean," Disko explained, "an' I I dunno haow to act polite, I guess, er I'd thank you better." "My father my own eldest brother two nephews an' my second sister's man," she said, dropping her head on her hand. "Would you care fer any one that took all those?" Cheyne was relieved when Dan turned up and accepted with more delight than he was able to put into words.
I never rightly understood that I had a son before this. Harve's got to be a great boy. 'Anything I can fetch you, dear? 'Cushion under your head? Well, we'll go down to the wharf again and look around." Harvey was his father's shadow in those days, and the two strolled along side by side, Cheyne using the grades as an excuse for laying his hand on the boy's square shoulder.
"He's bin favoured," said Disko, dryly. "And if you don't know who Harvey Cheyne is, you don't know much that's all. Now turn her around and let's hurry." Harvey had a notion that the greater part of America was filled with people discussing and envying his father's dollars. "Mebbe I do, an' mebbe I don't. Take a reef in your stummick, young feller. It's full o' my vittles."
He had dined, as he always dined on Sundays, with the Rodericks, in Cheyne Walk; he had driven home in a hansom. There was no reason why he should be tired. But he was tired. A deadly lassitude penetrated his body and his spirit, like a fluid. He was too tired to go to bed. 'I suppose I am getting old, he thought.
It seemed to him like watching a locomotive storming across country in the dark a mile between each glare of the open fire-door: but this locomotive could talk, and the words shook and stirred the boy to the core of his soul. At last Cheyne pitched away the cigar-butt, and the two sat in the dark over the lapping water. "I've never told that to any one before," said the father. Harvey gasped.
Superb woman, fit to be a duchess, though she says her ideal existence is to be an artist's wife, and she has an astonishing house on Cheyne Walk, with stabling for nine horses on the ground floor, and a stupendous yellow family victoria that Watkyns calls a Sarsaparilla waggon. Chase died a few years ago, you know, and his widow has elevated his memory into a sort of cult.
The former has publicly argued against the "reconciliations" of Genesis and Science. He has likewise written very strongly against the "historical" character of Jonah, which he treats as a story with "a moral." Canon Cheyne regards it as "an allegory." Jonah is Israel, swallowed up by Babylon; but, seeking the Lord in exile, the captive is at last disgorged uninjured.
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