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Updated: May 18, 2025
"'There'll be some hiatuses in your program, says Paisley, chewing up a piece of a railroad tie. 'I'd give in to you, says he, 'in 'most any respect if it was secular affairs, but this is not so. The smiles of woman, goes on Paisley, 'is the whirlpool of Squills and Chalybeates, into which vortex the good ship Friendship is often drawn and dismembered.
How much, not only of acres, but of his constitution, his temper, his conduct, character, and nature, he may inherit from some progenitor ten times removed! Nay, without that progenitor would he ever have been born, would a Squills ever have introduced him into the world, or a nurse ever have carried him upo kolpo!" Squills. "Hear, hear!"
Pisistratus, who lived six hundred years before Christ was born! Good heavens, madam! you have made me the father of an Anachronism." My mother burst into tears. But the evil was irremediable. An anachronism I was, and an anachronism I must continue to the end of the chapter. "Of course, sir, you will begin soon to educate your son yourself?" said Mr. Squills.
"So perhaps," resumed my father, "and not unconformably with sacred records, from one great parent horde came all those various tribes, carrying with them the name of their beloved Asia; and whether they wandered north, south, or west, exalting their own emphatic designation of 'Children of the Land of Light' into the title of gods. "And why the deuce could not they?" asked Mr. Squills.
Down first came the Persian war, with Median myriads disgorging all the rivers they had drunk up in their march through the East; all the arts, all the letters, all the sciences, all the notions of liberty that we inherit from Greece, my father rushed on with them all, sousing Squills with his proofs that without the Persian war Greece would never have risen to be the teacher of the world.
Encountering the footman in the passage, "John," said he, "take supper into your master's room, and make us some punch, will you, stiffish!" "Mr. Caxton, how on earth did you ever come to marry?" asked Mr. Squills, abruptly, with his feet on the hob, while stirring up his punch. That was a home question, which many men might reasonably resent; but my father scarcely knew what resentment was.
Nature began to affect me powerfully; and, from that affection rose a restless curiosity to analyze the charms that so mysteriously moved me to joy or awe, to smiles or tears. I got my father to explain to me the elements of astronomy; I extracted from Squills, who was an ardent botanist, some of the mysteries in the life of flowers. But music became my darling passion.
Squills, proudly; "more than I can manage. I shall advertise for a partner." "And," resumed my father, "you must have observed almost invariably that in every family there is what father, mother, uncle, and aunt pronounce to be one wonderful child." "One at least," said Mr. Squills, smiling. "It is easy," continued my father, "to say this is parental partiality; but it is not so.
"All well?" cried I. "All well, sir," answered the servant, cheerfully. "Mr. Squills, indeed, is with master, but I don't think there is anything the matter." But now my mother appeared at the threshold, and I was in her arms. "Sisty, Sisty! my dear, dear son beggared, perhaps and my fault mine." "Yours! Come into this room, out of hearing, your fault?"
"Squills," said he, turning round from his books, and laying one finger on the surgeon's arm confidentially, "Squills," said he, "I myself should be glad to know how I came to be married." Mr. Squills was a jovial, good-hearted man, stout, fat, and with fine teeth, that made his laugh pleasant to look at as well as to hear. Mr.
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