Biographical fiction; Christian fiction; Christian saints -- Fiction; More, Thomas, Saint, 1478-1535 -- Fiction
Awhile after, _Gonellus_ askt leave to see _Erasmus_ his Signet-ring,
which he handed down to him. In passing it back, _William_, who
was occupyde in carving a Crane, handed it so negligentlie that it
felle to the Ground. I never saw such a Face as _Erasmus_ made, when
'twas picked out from the Rushes! And yet, ours are renewed almost
daylie, which manie think over nice. He took it gingerlie in his
faire, Woman-like Hands, and washed and wiped it before he put it on;
which escaped not my Step-mother's displeased notice. Indeede, these
_Dutchmen_ are scrupulouslie cleane, though _Mother_ calls 'em swinish,
because they will eat raw Sallets; though, for that Matter, _Father_
loves Cresses and Ramps. She alsoe mislikes _Erasmus_ for eating Cheese
and Butter together with his Manchet; or what he calls _Boetram_; and
for being, generallie, daintie at his Sizes, which she sayth is an
ill Example to soe manie young People, and becometh not one with soe
little Money in 's Purse: howbeit, I think 'tis not Nicetie, but a weak
Stomach, which makes him loathe our Salt-meat Commons from Michaelmasse
to Easter, and eschew Fish of the coarser Sort. He cannot breakfaste
on colde Milk, like _Father_, but liketh Furmity a little spiced. At
Dinner, he pecks at, rather than eats, Ruffs and Reeves, Lapwings, or
anie smalle Birds it may chance; but affects Sweets and Subtilties,
and loves a Cup of Wine or Ale, stirred with Rosemary. _Father_ never
toucheth the Wine-cup but to grace a Guest, and loves Water from the
Spring. We growing Girls eat more than either; and _Father_ says he
loves to see us slice away at the Cob-loaf; it does him goode. What a
kind Father he is! I wish my _Step-mother_ were as kind. I hate all
sneaping and snubbing, flowting, fleering, pinching, nipping, and
such-like; it onlie creates Resentment insteade of Penitence, and
lowers the Minde of either Partie. _Gillian_ throws a Rolling-pin at
the Turnspit's Head, and we call it Low-life; but we looke for such
Unmannerlinesse in the Kitchen. A Whip is onlie fit for _Tisiphone_.
[Illustration: "I Noticed Argus Pearcht."]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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