And on both sides
Norris irritated and offended him. He thought his son
a fool, and he suspected that his son returned the
compliment with interest. The history of their
relation was simple; they met seldom, they quarrelled
often. To his mother, a fiery, pungent, practical
woman, already disappointed in her husband and her
elder son, Norris was only a fresh disappointment.
Yet the lad's faults were no great matter; he was
diffident, placable, passive, unambitious,
unenterprising; life did not much attract him; he
watched it like a curious and dull exhibition, not much
amused, and not tempted in the least to take a part.
He beheld his father ponderously grinding sand, his
mother fierily breaking butterflies, his brother
labouring at the pleasures of the Hawbuck with the
ardour of a soldier in a doubtful battle; and the vital
sceptic looked on wondering. They were careful and
troubled about many things; for him there seemed not
even one thing needful. He was born disenchanted, the
world's promises awoke no echo in his bosom, the
world's activities and the world's distinctions seemed
to him equally without a base in fact.
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