Illustrations of political economy, Volume 4 (of 9)Martineau, Harriet
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Illustrations of political economy, Volume 4 (of 9)
Martineau, Harriet
Didactic fiction, English; Political fiction, English; Social problems -- Fiction
He could not go on. Ellen ran to beg the particular favour of the
travellers to get out the letters immediately. This was easily done, the
packages of the labourers being small; and before Frank was called upon
to carve for a few dozen hungry people, he had satisfied himself that it
was very childish and ungrateful to have been so soon cast down; and his
gravity was seen by those who watched him to be of a very different
character from that which had seized him three hours before.
It was not Ellen’s wish that the little workhouse child should meet his
parents for the first time in the presence of strangers. Knowing that
Castle and his wife were gathering fruit in their garden, she took the
boy there, (after having brushed the dust from his clothes, and set him
off to the best advantage,) and put him in at the gate, bidding him not
to be frightened if he was spoken to, but say where he came from. The
little fellow made no advances. He stood in the middle of the walk, with
a finger of each hand in his mouth, and his chin upon his breast. He had
not yet learned work-house impudence.
Castle was the first to see him, after stooping so long over his peaches
that Ellen began to fear the blindness was wilful. “Wife! Wife!” she at
length heard him call. “He is come! The boy is come!” Ellen just staid
to hear the words “my boy” from both, and stole away. The next time she
saw him was as he came between his parents to the dinner table,
chattering in his Kentish dialect, and asking to sit on his father’s
knee, and be treated with fruit by his mother.
“You must be satisfied with being his brother, Harry,” said Ellen to her
husband. “He does not need to go begging for a father.”
Among the toasts which were given after dinner, some one proposed Mr.
Stapleton’s successor, whose name it was strange enough that nobody had
been able to learn till this day; and perhaps it was not less remarkable
that the name was the same with that of some respected persons now
present. They would all fill their cans to the health of Mr. Robert
Castle, about to become their neighbour.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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