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Updated: May 2, 2025
Maybe they can squeeze you into the form and maybe they can't.... But whatever happens is going to be darn unpleasant for you." Bonbright nodded. THAT he knew well. "You've got a choice. You can start in by kicking over the traces with the mischief to pay; or you can let the vanished Footes take a crack at you to see what that can make of you. I advise no boy to run against his father's wishes.
He felt bound and helpless; he saw himself surrounded by firm and dignified shades of departed Bonbright Footes whose collective wills compelled him to this or prohibited that course of action. Adventure, chance, were eliminated from his life.
That personal and individual emotion would come later; what he experienced now was a FAMILY emotion, a staggering astonishment participated in by five generations of departed Bonbright Footes. He was nonplussed. Here had happened a thing which could not happen.
He had a feeling as though six disembodied Bonbright Footes stood about in an agony of anxiety, watching to see what he would do as he took the emblematical paper in his hands.
The rest of that day, and of the days that followed it, Bonbright was trying to find the answer to the question, What does this mean to me? and to its companion question, What shall I do with it? One paper Richmond had left in Bonbright's hands, as Richmond's predecessors had left it in the hands of preceding Bonbright Footes.
"You say that, but father and the generations of Footes before him say the exact opposite.... However, I'm not the question. All I wanted to do was to explain to you about last night. You believe me?" "Of course. And I shall tell " He shook his head. "I'd rather you didn't. Indeed, you mustn't. As long as I am here I must stick by my family. Don't you see? I wanted YOU to know.
The will should be a straight steel rod urged in one undeviating direction by heart and mind. No day passed upon which the rod of Bonbright's will was not bent, was not twisted to make it follow the direction of some other will stronger than his the direction of the accumulated wills of all the Bonbright Footes who had built up the family tradition.
Harriet, the second daughter and seventh child of Lyman Beecher and Roxanna Foote, was born in Litchfield, Conn., June 14, 1811. There were three Mrs. Lyman Beechers of whom Roxanna Foote was the first. The Footes were Episcopalians, Harriet, sister of Roxanna, being as Mrs. Stowe says, "the highest of High Churchwomen who in her private heart did not consider my father an ordained minister."
We're Footes, and I rather fancy the world knows what that means.... My son shall be a Foote, Rangar. That's all.... Stay a moment, though. Hereafter bear in mind I do not care to be troubled with squalid details. If things have to be done, do them.... If babies must be hungry why, I suppose it is a condition that must exist from time to time.
"This door," said he, "has not been opened since I took my place at the head of the business since I moved from the desk you are to occupy to the one in this room. It will not be closed again until the time arrives for you to assume command. We have we Footes always regarded this open door as a patent token of partnership between father and son."
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