When he was endeavouring to inculcate good Liberal principles into that son of his, who was burning the while to get off to a battle of rats among the corn-stacks, he was not yet fifty.

There might therefore be some time left to him for the promised joys of companionship if he could only convince the boy that politics were better than rats.
But he did not long make himself any such promise.

It seemed to him that his son's mind was of a nature very different from his own; and much like to that of his grandfather.

The lad could be awakened to no enthusiasm in the abuse of Conservative leaders.

And those Babingtons were such fools! He despised the whole race of them,--especially those thick-legged, romping, cherry-cheeked damsels, of whom, no doubt, his son would marry one.