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Ewing, Juliana Horatia Gatty, 1841-1885

"A Flat Iron for a Farthing or Some Passages in the Life of an only Son"

Short of that, I was most anxious to sit behind in the
rumble with my nurse. This favour was at length conceded, and after a
long farewell from my father, gilded with a sovereign in my pocket, I
was, with a mountain of wraps, consigned to the care of Nurse Bundle
in the back seat.
The dew was still on the ground, the birds sang their loudest, the
morning air was fresh and delicious, and before we had driven five
miles on our way I could have eaten three such breakfasts as the one I
had rejected at six o'clock. In the first two villages through which
we drove people seemed to be only just getting up and beginning the
day's business. In one or two "genteel" houses the blinds were still
down; in reference to which I resolved that when _I_ grew up I would
not waste the best part of the day in bed, with the sun shining, the
birds singing, the flowers opening, and country people going about
their business, all beyond my closed windows.
"Nurse, please, I should like always to have breakfast at six o'clock.
Do you hear, Nursey?" I added, for Mrs. Bundle feigned to be absorbed
in contemplating a flock of sheep which were being driven past us.
"Very well, my dear.


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