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David and I Set Forth Upon a Journey

           

           Heavenhelpallmothersiftheybenotreallydears,fortheirboywillcertainlyknowitinthatstrangeshorthourofthedaywheneverymotherstandsrevealedbeforeherlittleson.Thatdreadhourticksbetweensixandseven;whenchildrengotobedlatertherevelationhasceasedtocome.Heislaptinforthenightnowandliesquietlythere,madam,withgreat,mysteriouseyesfixeduponhismother.Heissummingupyourday.Nothingintherevelationsthatkeptyoutogetherandyetapartinplaytimecansaveyounow;youtwoareofnoage,noexperienceoflifeseparatesyou;itistheboy’shour,andyouhavecomeupforjudgment.“HaveIdonewellto-day,myson?”Youhavegottosayit,andnothingmayyouhidefromhim;heknowsall.Howlikeyourvoicehasgrowntohis,butmoretremulous,andbothsosolemn,sounlikethevoiceofeitherofyoubyday.

           “Youwerealittleunjusttometo-dayabouttheapple;wereyounot,mother?”

           Standthere,woman,bythefootofthebedandcrossyourhandsandanswerhim.

           “Yes,myson,Iwas.Ithought

           Butwhatyouthoughtwillnotaffecttheverdict.

           “Wasitfair,mother,tosaythatIcouldstayouttillsix,andthenpretenditwassixbeforeitwasquitesix?”

           “No,itwasveryunfair.Ithought

           “WouldithavebeenalieifIhadsaiditwasquitesix?”

           “Oh,myson,myson!Ishallnevertellyoualieagain.”

           “No,mother,pleasedon’t.”

           “Myboy,haveIdonewellto-dayonthewhole?”

           Supposehewereunabletosayyes.

           Thesearethemerestpeccadilloes,youmaysay.

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Roboto Lora
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