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Updated: May 22, 2025
Polly clung to the stair-railing, her face whitening, and her gaze fastened upon Mrs. Chatterton's door, where Hortense was now disappearing. Inside, was a sound of voices, and that subdued stir that gives token of a sick room. "I have killed her!" cried Polly's heart.
"Dick, Dick," said his mother reprovingly, "she is our guest, you know." "Not if she is at her nephew's," said Dick triumphantly, turning back to his letter. Polly at this identical minute was slowly ascending the stairs, a tray in one hand, the contents of which she was anxiously regarding on the way. "I do hope it is right now," she said, and presently knocked at Mrs. Chatterton's door.
Homer like the darkened half of the moon in eclipse! You have spoilt for me now the finest image in your Ossian-Macpherson. My dearest Mr. Boyd, you will find as few believers in the genuineness of these volumes among the most accomplished antiquarians in poetry as in the genuineness of Chatterton's Rowley, and of Ireland's Shakespeare.
Johnson wrote on March 30: 'The men have got in whom I have endeavoured to keep out; but I hope they will do better than their predecessors; it will not be easy to do worse. Croker's Boswell, p. 706. This note was in answer to one which accompanied one of the earliest pamphlets on the subject of Chatterton's forgery, entitled Cursory Observations on the Poems attributed to Thomas Rowley, &c. Mr.
"I'm acquainted with three-and-twenty, sir. What then?" "I was in hopes, that the recollection of Oakside would have induced you to treat her name with more respect." Chatterton's brow grew dark with rage. "So, then," he said, lifting his hat with even more pride and coldness than his adversary "so, then, you're the Captain Smith I have heard of, and it was no false report?
As this statement required no remark on the part of the hearer, Phronsie was silent, not removing her eyes from Mrs. Chatterton's face. "Now, although you haven't as much to recommend you as many other children that I have fancied, I hope to make you serve my purpose. I am going to try you, at least. Every day, Phronsie, you can come to my room.
The prematurity of Chatterton's genius is, however, full as wonderful, as that such a prodigy as Rowley should never have been heard of till the eighteenth century. The youth and industry of the former are miracles, too, yet still more credible.
"Do go!" She tossed an imperative command with her jeweled fingers. "You have ceased to be amusing since your interest is all in the other room with that boy." Polly dashed the newspaper to the floor, and rushing impulsively across the room, threw herself, with no thought for the consequences, on her knees at Mrs. Chatterton's chair.
"No use to say anything to father when he looks like that," groaned Jasper, when Polly besought him to try his influence, "his blood is up now; he's borne a good deal, you know, Polly." "O dear, dear!" whispered Polly, back again, "just look at Mrs. Chatterton's face, and at poor Phronsie's; can't you do something, Jasper?" "I'm afraid not," said Jasper gloomily.
He threw her the brightest of smiles as he moved to make way for a group of friends hurrying up to shower Polly with compliments, and every one had something delightful to add of Charlotte Chatterton's singing. "Jasper couldn't help but be happy over Charlotte's singing," said Polly to herself, and looking after him, "it's so beautiful," as they came up.
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