"I hope, Pisistratus," said my father, "that you do not intend to be dull?"
"Heaven forbid, sir! What could make you ask such a question? Intend! No! if I am dull it is from innocence."
"A very long discourse upon knowledge!" said my father; "very long! I should cut it out."
I looked upon my father as a Byzantian sage might have looked on a Vandal. "Cut it out!"
"Stops the action, sir!" said my father, dogmatically.
"Action! But a novel is not a drama."
"No; it is a great deal longer,—twenty times as long, I dare say," replied Mr. Caxton, with a sigh.
"Well, sir, well! I think my Discourse upon Knowledge has much to do with the subject, is vitally essential to the subject; does not stop the action,—only explains and elucidates the action. And I am astonished, sir, that you, a scholar, and a cultivator of knowledge—"