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The climax was reached when the two waltzed off together round the room, the doll sustaining a delightful stiffness and stoniness of mien, while Topsy's grin threatened to reach to her very ears. Ordinary costumes fell somewhat flat after these triumphs, though to the Freshers there was a continuing joy in beholding dignified students in their third year pirouetting in childlike abandonment.
"Well, go ahead and catechize Topsy; may be you'll make out something yet." Topsy, who had stood like a black statue during this discussion, with hands decently folded, now, at a signal from Miss Ophelia, went on: "Our first parents, being left to the freedom of their own will, fell from the state wherein they were created." Topsy's eyes twinkled, and she looked inquiringly.
"O, dismal! so I ought; but, as Topsy herself says, 'I 's so wicked!" In very much this way Topsy's training proceeded, for a year or two, Miss Ophelia worrying herself, from day to day, with her, as a kind of chronic plague, to whose inflictions she became, in time, as accustomed, as persons sometimes do to the neuralgia or sick headache. St.
The ribbon was pulled out of Topsy's own sleeve, yet was she not in the least disconcerted; she only looked at it with an air of the most surprised and unconscious innocence. "Laws! why, that ar's Miss Feely's ribbon, an't it? How could it a got caught in my sleeve? "Topsy, you naughty girl, don't you tell me a lie, you stole that ribbon!"
Topsy, looking very earnest, did it all just as she had been shown. She did it so quickly and well that Miss Ophelia was very pleased. But, alas! as she was finishing, an end of ribbon came dangling out of her sleeve. 'What is this? said Miss Ophelia, seizing it. 'You naughty, wicked child you have been stealing this. The ribbon was pulled out of Topsy's own sleeve.
In her play-hours, she invariably had every child in the establishment at her heels, open-mouthed with admiration and wonder, not excepting Miss Eva, who appeared to be fascinated by her wild diablerie, as a dove is sometimes charmed by a glittering serpent. Miss Ophelia was uneasy that Eva should fancy Topsy's society so much, and implored St. Clare to forbid it.
Ella here, she can sweep; and Hoopsy Topsy's a good fist at it." "I shall tidy up the room to-morrow," said Ella, with an air of haughty apology, "but to-day I have a hat to trim and I can't be bothered with household matters."
It was also an effort at dissimulation, for his sudden struggle to get his scattered lines of manhood together still carried a touch of the heroic. But I'd caught a glimpse of his soul when it wasn't on parade. And I knew what I knew. He tried to work his poor old harried face into a smile as I crossed over to his side. But, like Topsy's kindred, it died a-borning. "What's happened?"
But a child's thoughts are rather dim, undefined instincts; and in Eva's noble nature many such were yearning and working, for which she had no power of utterance. When Miss Ophelia expatiated on Topsy's naughty, wicked conduct, the child looked perplexed and sorrowful, but said, sweetly. "Poor Topsy, why need you steal? You're going to be taken good care of now.
Few passages, indeed, have done that, and they are curiously discrepant. The first book that ever made me cry, of which feat I was horribly ashamed, was "Uncle Tom's Cabin," with the death of Eva, Topsy's friend.
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