A Flat Iron for a Farthing; or, Some Passages in the Life of an only SonEwing, Juliana Horatia
General
A Flat Iron for a Farthing; or, Some Passages in the Life of an only Son
Ewing, Juliana Horatia
Boys -- Juvenile fiction; Children's stories
"I've seen plenty of ponies," she would repeat; "I know what they are,
my dear," and she invariably followed up this statement by rehearsing
the fate of her brother-in-law's cousin, sometimes adding--
"He was very much giving to racing, and being about horses. He was a
little man, and suffered a deal from the quinsies in the autumn."
"What a pity he didn't die of a quinsy instead of breaking his neck!"
I felt compelled to say one day.
"He might have lived to have done that if it hadn't a been for the
pony," said Mrs. Bundle emphatically.
CHAPTER XVII
I FAIL TO TEACH LATIN TO MRS. BUNDLE--THE RECTOR TEACHES ME
I was soon to discover the whole of my father's plans with Mr.
Andrewes for my benefit. Not only had they decided that I was to have
a pony, and learn to ride, but it was also settled that I was to go
daily to the Rectory to "do lessons" with the Rector.
I was greatly pleased. I had already begun Latin with my father, and
had vainly endeavoured to share my educational advantages with Mrs.
Bundle, by teaching her the first declension.
"Musa, amuse," she repeated after me on this occasion.
"Musae, of a muse," I continued.
"_Of amuse!_ There's no sense in that, my dearie," said Mrs. Bundle;
and as my ideas were not very well defined on the subject of the
muses, and as Mrs. Bundle's were even less so as to genders, numbers,
and cases, I reluctantly gave in to her decision that "Latin was very
well for young gentlemen, but good plain English was best suited to
the likes of her."
She was greatly delighted, however, with a Latin valentine which I
prepared for her on the ensuing 14th of February, and caused to be
delivered by the housemaid, in an envelope with an old stamp, and
postmarks made with a pen and a penny. The design was very simple; a
heart traced in outline from a peppermint lozenge of that shape, which
came to me in an ounce of "mixed sweets" from the village shop. The
said heart was painted red and below it I wrote in my largest and
clearest handwriting, _Mrs. B. Amo te_. When the Latin was translated
for her, her gratification was great. At first she was put out by
there being only two Latin words to three English ones, but she got
over the difficulty at last by always reading it thus:--
"A mo te,
I love thee."
My Latin had not advanced much beyond this stage when I began to go to
Mr. Andrewes every day.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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