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'I can't think why, she said severely, 'you should call a young man Toffy. It is a name I should hardly liked to have called a dog when I was a girl. Peter raised his fair eyebrows and looked distressed. 'I don't see what else you could call a man named Christopherson, he said. 'You couldn't call him Nigel that's Toffy's front name and I 'm afraid he hasn't got any other.
In my own opinion we have here in The Scrupulous Father, and to a less degree, perhaps, in the first and last of these stories, and in A Poor Gentleman and Christopherson, perfectly characteristic and quite admirable specimens of Gissing's own genre, and later, unstudied, but always finished prose style. But a few words remain to be said, and these, in part at any rate, in recapitulation.
The expression with which he regarded me had so much intelligence, so much good-nature, and at the same time such a pathetic diffidence, that I could not but answer him in the friendliest way. I had not seen the name on the flyleaf, but at once I opened the book, and by the light of a gas-lamp read, inscribed in a very fine hand, 'W. R. Christopherson, 1849.
We are to have the house. 'And how is Mrs. Christopherson? 'Better, much better, Heaven be thanked! She slept almost from the time when you left yesterday afternoon till early this morning. The letter came by the first post, and I told her not the whole truth, he added, under his breath.
Christopherson; and, unfortunately, it turned out that my library is regarded as an objection a fatal objection. We have quite reconciled ourselves to staying where we are. I could not help asking, without emphasis, whether Mrs. Christopherson would have cared for life in the country.
'She thinks I am to be allowed to take the books with me; and if you could have seen her smile of contentment. But they will all be sold and carried away before she knows about it; and when she sees that I don't care a snap of the fingers! He had turned into the sitting-room on the ground floor. Walking about excitedly, Christopherson gloried in the sacrifice he had made.
Here the encumberment was less remarkable, but one wall had completely disappeared behind volumes, and the bookishness of the air made it a disgusting thought that two persons occupied this chamber every night. We returned to the sitting-room, Christopherson began picking out books from the solid mass to show me.
By ! I'd have turned burglar, if I could 'a found no other way of keeping her in comfort. 'She works for her living, then? 'Ay, and for his too. No, not teaching; she's in a shop in Tottenham Court Road; has what they call a good place, and earns thirty shillings a week. It's all they have, but Christopherson buys books out of it. 'But has he never done anything since their marriage?
"Seeing so much effort given ungrudgingly for small results, I think. I'm going back and do something with my art. But it's odd I don't really want to go back." One by one the prove-up-and-run settlers had left the country, but Huey Dunn, Chris Christopherson and others like them were learning to meet the country on its own terms and conquer it. They were there to stay.
The Lucky Numbers were coming onto the land. On the claim to the west a house went up and wagons of immigrant goods were unloaded. Ida Mary rode over one evening and found that our new neighbor was a farmer, Christopher Christopherson, from Minnesota.
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