Her eye wandered quickly over that riotous and disorderly assemblage, until it settled upon one group more riotous and disorderly than the rest, of which her son formed the principal figure. “I do not even know who you are. Anna merely glanced at the coarse, flushed features, and at once shook her head. She hated it, she hated the mission-house; she hated the sleek lagoon, the palms, the burning sky. Of all crafts,—and it was the only craft his poor father, who, to do him justice, was one of the best workmen that ever handled a saw or drove a nail, could never understand,—of all crafts, I say, to be an honest man is the master-craft.
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