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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"


"Servants' language! oh, dear!"
In my vexation with things in general, and with the strong feeling
within me that I was in the wrong, I seized upon the first grievance
that occurred to me as an excuse for fretfulness, and once more quoted
Nurse Bundle.
"It's so very quiet at home," I whimpered, with tears in my eyes,
which had really no sort of connection with the dulness of the Hall,
or with anything whatever but offended pride and vexation on my part.
Ah! How many a stab one gives in childhood to one's parents' tenderest
feelings! I did not mean to be ungrateful, and I had no measure of the
pain my father felt at this hint of the insufficiency of all he did
for my comfort and pleasure at home. Mr. Andrewes knew better, and
said, hastily,
"Just the love of novelty, Mr. Dacre. We have been children
ourselves."
My father sighed, and sitting down, drew me towards him with one hand,
stroking Rubens with the other, in acknowledgment of his greeting and
wagging tail. Then I saw that he was hurt. Indeed, I fancied tears
were in his eyes as he said,
"So poor Papa and home are too dull--too quiet, eh, Regie? And yet
Papa does all he can for his boy.


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