Oscar Bainesworth Goodfellow, better known as old O.B. Goodfellow himself, listened to the young attorney worrying out loud behind him. "You know, O.B.," said the youthful, black-haired Randall Fairfax, "I've been with you more than a month, and we haven't seen many new cases come through the front door. I really want you to feel justified in hiring me. I'd really like to make partner someday." Gad, thought O.B.,these young attorneys are barely worth the training. Why was the boy hanging around in here anyway? It would be better if he just went to his own office. I want him to leave so I can fish my western novel out of the middle drawer, and start reading. O.B. sighed as he continued the thought. Young attorneys merit the title, sharks, because they're always swimming around the fish, making them nervous, trying to stir up business.   

Excerpt
"I like to think of myself as a shepherd to this community. I'm a little like our Lord Jesus Christ with his flock of sheep. I like to paraphrase him just like our pastors do, and say I'm tending my little flock here. There is a difference. Where he wants to save his flock, and keep them safely in the fold, I like to bring my sheep in for shearing at least once a year--twice if I can--but for most of them just a few times in a lifetime is likely. You just have to be here for them.