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"If a man is wrong-headed and wrong-purposed, it isn't easy for him to be fine, is it?" "That depends. A man might want to save his country by making some good law, and be mistaken both as to the result of that law and the right methods in making it. I'd like you to be with me when I hear him for the first time. I've got a feeling he's one of the biggest men of our day. Of course he isn't perfect.
"If a man is wrong-headed and wrong-purposed, it isn't easy for him to be fine, is it?" "That depends. A man might want to save his country by making some good law, and be mistaken both as to the result of that law and the right methods in making it. I'd like you to be with me when I hear him for the first time. I've got a feeling he's one of the biggest men of our day. Of course he isn't perfect.
He had for him a sympathy which, to himself, seemed a matter of temperament. "Mother," he said, "wouldn't you like to go and hear Barode Barouche at St. Annabel? You know him I mean personally?" "Yes, I knew him long ago," was the scarcely vocal reply. "He's a great, fine man, isn't he? Wrong-headed, wrong-purposed, but a big fine fellow."
A man might want to save another's life, but he might choose the wrong way to do it, and that's wrongheaded; and perhaps he oughtn't to save the man's life, and that's wrong-purposed. There's no crime in either. Let's go and hear Monsieur Barouche." He did not see the flush which suddenly filled her face; and, if he had, he would not have understood.
To Carnac it seemed fatal to French Canada, though it was expounded with a taking air; yet as he himself had said it was "wrong-headed and wrong-purposed." When the speech had finished to great cheering, Carnac suddenly turned to his mother: "He's on the wrong track. I know the policy to down his. He's got no opponent. I'm going to stand against him at the polls." She clutched his arm.
A man might want to save another's life, but he might choose the wrong way to do it, and that's wrongheaded; and perhaps he oughtn't to save the man's life, and that's wrong-purposed. There's no crime in either. Let's go and hear Monsieur Barouche." He did not see the flush which suddenly filled her face; and, if he had, he would not have understood.
To Carnac it seemed fatal to French Canada, though it was expounded with a taking air; yet as he himself had said it was "wrong-headed and wrong-purposed." When the speech had finished to great cheering, Carnac suddenly turned to his mother: "He's on the wrong track. I know the policy to down his. He's got no opponent. I'm going to stand against him at the polls." She clutched his arm.
He had for him a sympathy which, to himself, seemed a matter of temperament. "Mother," he said, "wouldn't you like to go and hear Barode Barouche at St. Annabel? You know him I mean personally?" "Yes, I knew him long ago," was the scarcely vocal reply. "He's a great, fine man, isn't he? Wrong-headed, wrong-purposed, but a big fine fellow."
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