Nervousness had laid hold of her so that in and out among the dishes her hand trembled.
"You see, Harry, it's the free City College, and--"
"I know that free talk. So was high school free when you talked me into it, but if it ain't one thing it's been another. Cadet uniform, football suit--"
"The child's got talent for invention, Harry; his manual-training teacher told me his air-ship model was--"
"I got ninety in manual training when the other fellers only got seventy."
"I guess you're looking for another case like your father, sitting penniless around the house, tinkering on inventions up to the day he died."
"Pa never had the business push, Harry. You know yourself his churn was ready for the market before the Peerless beat him in on it."
"Well, your son is going to get the business push trained into him. No boy of mine with a poor daddy eats up four years of his life and my salary training to be a college sissy. That's for the rich men's sons. That's for the Clarence Ungers."
"If it's the money, Harry, maybe I can--"
"If it didn't cost a cent, I wouldn't have it. Now cut it out--you hear? Quick!"
Edwin Ross pushed back from the table, struggling and choking against impending tears. "Well, then, I--I--"
"He didn't shuffle, Harry; it's just his feet growing so fast he can't manage them."
"Well, just the samey, I--I ain't going into the theayter business. I--I--"
Mr. Ross flung down his napkin, facing him. "You're going where I put you, young man. You're going to get the right kind of a start that I didn't get in the biggest money-making business in the world."
"I won't. I'll get me a job in an aeroplane-factory."
His father's palm came down with a small crash, shivering the china. "By Gad! you take that impudence out of your voice to me or I'll rawhide it out!"
His heavy, unformed lips now trembling frankly against the tears he tried so furiously to resist, Edwin charged with lowered head from the room, sobs escaping in raw gutturals.
Mr. Ross came back to his plate, breathing heavily, fist, with a knife upright in it, coming down again on the table, his mouth open, to facilitate labored breathing.
"By Heaven! I'll cowhide that boy to his senses! I've never laid hand on him yet, but he ain't too old. I'll get him down to common sense, if I got to break a rod over him."