“My Mom makes more money than my Dad, a lot more. His lawful wife; but nothing more; beyond that she was only an idea, a trust. Wood, despair will come over me; and, dear as this babe is to me, far dearer than my own wretched life, which I would lay down for him any minute, I have prayed to Heaven to remove him, rather than he should grow up to be a man, and be exposed to his father's temptations—rather than he should live as wickedly and die as disgracefully as his father. The poet's appearance altogether was highly prepossessing. All we have to apprehend is a rescue.
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