While Peter, the son, had inherited exclusively one side of his father’s talents—business shrewdness,—Pedro, the grandson, seemed to have exclusively inherited the other—taste and ear for music. He was very slow in learning to read, but could sing quite early; he played the flute so well that he attracted much attention; he had a refined look and a tender heart. This, however, was only a source of annoyance to his father, who wanted to bring the boy up to his own business-like activity. When Pedro was forgetful about anything, he was neither scolded nor flogged as his father had been; he was pinched. This was done very quietly, with a kindliness of manner that might almost be termed politeness. Each evening when his mother undressed him she counted the black and blue spots on his body and covered them with kisses; but she offered no resistance, for she herself got pinched. For every rent in the boy’s clothes,—which were his father’s Hamburg suits made over,—for every stain on his school-books, she was blamed. Consequently, the continual cry was: “Do not do that, Pedro! Take care, Pedro! Remember, Pedro!”—and the boy was afraid of his father and tired of his mother. At the hands of his comrades he suffered no harm, as he always began to cry at the
