A Good-For-Nothing by Hjalmar Hjorth Boysen

RALPH GRIM was born a gentleman. He had the misfortune of coming into / the world some ten years later than might reasonably have been expected. / Colonel Grim and his lady had celebrated twelve anniversaries of their / wedding-day, and had given up all hopes of ever having a son and heir, / when this late-comer startled them by his unexpected appearance. The / only previous addition to the family had been a daughter, and she was / then ten summers old.

Ralph was a very feeble child, and could only with great difficulty be / persuaded to retain his hold of the slender thread which bound him to / existence. He was rubbed with whisky, and wrapped in cotton, and given / mare's milk to drink, and God knows what not, and the Colonel swore a / round oath of paternal delight when at last the infant stopped gasping / in that distressing way and began to breathe like other human beings. / The mother, who, in spite of her anxiety for the child's life, had found / time to plot for him a career of future magnificence, now suddenly set / him apart for literature, because that was the easiest road to fame, and / disposed of him in marriage to one of the most distinguished families of / the land. She cautiously suggested this to her husband when he came to / take his seat at her bedside; but to her utter astonishment she found / that he had been indulging a similar train of thought, and had already / destined the infant prodigy for the army. She, however, could not give / up her predilection for literature, and the Colonel, who could not bear / to be contradicted in his own house, as he used to say, was getting / every minute louder and more flushed, when, happily, the doctor's / arrival interrupted the dispute.