I am my father's own son.

He dreamed of cutting through an isthmus, I of inventing a gun.

I spent four years of my life in fabricating it, and the first time it was used it burst." And thereupon he plunged into a somewhat humorous description of his invention, his hopes, his golden dreams, his disappointments, and his chagrin.

"The only admirable thing in the whole affair," he concluded, "and something that I believe never has happened to any other inventor, is that I am cured entirely of my chimera; I defy it to take possession of me again.

I propose to put myself under discipline in order to expiate my extravagance.