The History of Samuel Titmarsh and the Great Hoggarty DiamondThackeray, William Makepeace
General
The History of Samuel Titmarsh and the Great Hoggarty Diamond
Thackeray, William Makepeace
English fiction -- 19th century; Great Britain -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
"As for those odious Irish people," says my aunt, rather sharply, "don't
speak of them, I hate them, and every one of their mothers" (the fact is,
there had been a lawsuit about Hoggarty's property); "but of all my other
kindred, you, Samuel, have been the most dutiful and affectionate to me.
Your employers in London give the best accounts of your regularity and
good conduct. Though you have had eighty pounds a year (a liberal
salary), you have not spent a shilling more than your income, as other
young men would; and you have devoted your month's holidays to your old
aunt, who, I assure you, is grateful."
"Oh, ma'am!" said I. It was all that I could utter.
"Samuel," continued she, "I promised you a present, and here it is. I
first thought of giving you money; but you are a regular lad; and don't
want it. You are above money, dear Samuel. I give you what I value most
in life--the p,--the po, the po-ortrait of my sainted Hoggarty" (tears),
"set in the locket which contains the valuable diamond that you have
often heard me speak of. Wear it, dear Sam, for my sake; and think of
that angel in heaven, and of your dear Aunt Susy."
She put the machine into my hands: it was about the size of the lid of a
shaving-box: and I should as soon have thought of wearing it as of
wearing a cocked-hat and pigtail. I was so disgusted and disappointed
that I really could not get out a single word.
When I recovered my presence of mind a little, I took the locket out of
the bit of paper (the locket indeed! it was as big as a barndoor
padlock), and slowly put it into my shirt. "Thank you, Aunt," said I,
with admirable raillery. "I shall always value this present for the sake
of you, who gave it me; and it will recall to me my uncle, and my
thirteen aunts in Ireland."
"I don't want you to wear it in _that_ way!" shrieked Mrs. Hoggarty,
"with the hair of those odious carroty women. You must have their hair
removed."
"Then the locket will be spoiled, Aunt."
"Well, sir, never mind the locket; have it set afresh."
"Or suppose," said I, "I put aside the setting altogether: it is a little
too large for the present fashion; and have the portrait of my uncle
framed and placed over my chimney-piece, next to yours. It's a sweet
miniature."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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