"I trust, William, that you
are realizing the responsibility of this office. Most men would hesitate
to assume it. I should tremble at the thought."
"I think, sir, that I shall be able to do my duty." William Pressley
spoke stiffly, with a touch of condescension and a shade of resentment,
such as he always evinced at any sign that the censer might cease to
swing.
"It isn't a simple matter of duty. It's a much more complicated matter
of ability," the judge said sternly.
"Pardon me, sir, but it really does not seem to me such a difficult
place to fill," said William, loftily. "In this, as in any other
position of life, the man who is influenced solely by the profoundest
and most conscientious conviction, and who is firm in following his
convictions, can hardly go far astray."
The judge looked at him over his big spectacles in perplexed, troubled
silence for a moment. So gazing, he gave the old impatient toss of his
tousled head, and the old quizzical look came under his suddenly
uplifted eyebrow.
"All _right_, William!" he said at last, almost immediately lapsing into
silence, and presently beginning to nod.
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