Erema; Or, My Father's SinBlackmore, R. D. (Richard Doddridge)
History
Erema; Or, My Father's Sin
Blackmore, R. D. (Richard Doddridge)
California -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction; Fathers and daughters -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
“I am only astonished, my dear,” said my nurse, as soon as she had had
some tea and toast, and scarcely the soft roe of a red herring, “that
you can put up so well, and abide with my instincts in the way you
do. None of your family could have done it, to my knowledge of their
dispositions, much less the baby that was next above you. But it often
comes about to go in turns like that; 'one, three, five, and seven is
sweet, while two, four, and six is a-squalling with their feet.' But
the Lord forgive me for an ill word of them, with their precious little
bodies washed, and laying in their patterns till the judgment-day.
“But putting by the words I said in the dirty little room they pleased
to call a 'court,' and the Testament so filthy that no lips could have
a hold of it, my meaning is to tell you, miss, the very things that
happened, so that you may fairly judge of them. The Captain came back
from going with his father, I am sure, in less than twenty minutes, and
smoking a cigar in his elegant way, quite happy and contented, for I saw
him down the staircase. As for sign of any haste about him, or wiping of
his forehead, or fumbling with his handkerchief, or being in a stew in
any sort of way--as the stupid cook who let him in declared, by reason
of her own having been at the beer-barrel--solemnly, miss, as I hope to
go to heaven, there was nothing of the sort about him.
“He went into the dining-room, and mistress, who had been up stairs to
see about the baby, went down to him; and there I heard them talking as
pleasant and as natural as they always were together. Not one of them
had the smallest sense of trouble hanging over them; and they put away
both the decanters and cruets, and came up to bed in their proper order,
the master stopping down just to finish his cigar and see to the doors
and the bringing up the silver, because there was no man-servant now.
And I heard him laughing at some little joke he made as he went into
the bedroom. A happier household never went to bed, nor one with better
hopes of a happy time to come. And the baby slept beside his parents in
his little cot, as his mother liked to have him, with his blessed mouth
wide open.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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