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Updated: June 20, 2025
You've got Slattery, and you've got Pat McCullagh, and you've got the machine. You've got Wygant and Hickman you've even got something on Bertie Lockman, haven't you?" "I suppose I have," said Samuel. "But I'm not going to tell that." "Well, they don't know what you're going to tell, and they won't take any chances. They won't let you tell anything." "But can such things be done?" panted the boy.
"Why, that's too bad!" exclaimed Miss Gladys. "Tell me about her, Samuel." And Samuel told the story. At the end a sudden inspiration came to him, and he mentioned how Sophie had received her Christmas present from Miss Gladys, and how she had kept her pictures in her room. And, of course, Miss Wygant was touched. "I will see what I can do for her," she said. "What would you suggest?"
She was the female of this higher species; she was the superior and triumphant woman. "Hello, Bertie!" she said. "Hello!" the other replied, and then added. "This is my cousin, Miss Wygant. Glad, this is Samuel Prescott." The girl made a slight acknowledgment, and stared at Samuel with a look in which curiosity and hauteur were equally mingled.
Katie wanted to talk about Samuel a part of the time, and even, perhaps, about herself; but Samuel plied her with questions about Miss Wygant. He had her two pictures folded away in his vest pocket; and all the time that he trimmed the hedges he listened for the sound of her horse's hoofs or for the chug of her motor.
About him was the most elaborate collection of books that Samuel had yet seen; and in the luxurious room was an atmosphere of profound and age-long calm. Mr. Wygant himself was tall and stately, with an indescribable air of exclusiveness and reserve. Samuel clenched his hands and rushed at once to the attack.
Wygant, "I have many responsibilities upon my shoulders many interests looking to me for protection. And it is as if I were surrounded by a pack of wolves." "But meantime," cried Samuel, "what is becoming of free government?" "I do not know," the other replied. "I sometimes think that unless the people reform, free government will soon come to an end." "But what are the people to do, sir?"
"Young man," he cried at last, "this is a most incredible piece of impertinence!" And suddenly the boy started toward him, stretching out his arms. "Mr. Wygant!" he cried. "You are going to be angry with me! But I beg you not to harden your heart! I have come here for your own good! I came because I couldn't bear to know that such things are done by a member of St. Matthew's Church!"
"Ah, but this is terrible, doctor! You will have to find out about it- -you cannot let such men stay in the church." The other rose and closed the door of his study. Then he drew his chair close to Samuel. "Now," he said, "what is it?" "It's Mr. Wygant," said Samuel. "Mr. Wygant!" cried the other in dismay. "Yes, Dr. Vince." "What has he done?"
"And isn't that just what I said before? They have no money, because the rich people have it all!" There was no reply; and after a moment Samuel rushed on: "Surely it is selfish of Mr. Wygant to shut poor people out of his mill, just because they have no money. Why couldn't he let them make cloth for themselves?" "Samuel!" protested the other. "That is absurd!" "But why, sir?"
It was all so very obvious that Samuel found himself in a state of exasperation with the people who did not yet understand it, and spent his time wrestling in imagination with all those he had ever known: with his brothers, and with Finnegan, and with Charlie Swift, with Master Albert and Mr. Wygant, with Professor Stewart and Dr. Vince.
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