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Updated: May 22, 2025
Those tea-cakes were always good; to-night they were utterly delicious; there was a perfect abandon of currants, and the amount of citron peel was enervating to behold. Then the housekeeper waited in awful splendour, and yet the Doctor's authority over her seemed as absolute as if he were an Eastern despot. Deordie must be excused for believing in the charms of living alone.
"What do you think of it all, Mother?" he inquired. "Bairns are a blessing," said the old lady tartly, "I told you so." "That's not the end, is it?" asked one of the boys in a tone of dismay, for the Doctor had paused here. "Yes, it is," said he. "But couldn't you make a little more end?" asked Deordie, "to tell us what became of them all?" "I don't see what there is to tell," said the Doctor.
And I read the story of the Shoemaker and the little Elves who came and did his work for him before he got up; and I thought it would be so jolly if we had some little Elves to do things instead of us." "That's what Tommy Trout said," observed the Doctor. "Who's Tommy Trout?" asked Deordie. "Don't you know, Deor?" said Tiny. "It's the good boy who pulled the cat out of the what's-his-name.
"The rocking-horse's nose couldn't turn up, it was the purest Grecian, modelled from the Elgin marbles. Perhaps it was the heat that did it, though. However, you seem to have got through your troubles very well, Master Deordie. I wish poor Tiny were at the end of her task." "So do I," said Deordie ruefully. "But I tell you what I've been thinking, Doctor.
"Oh! come to the point, please," said the Doctor; "you do go round the square so, in telling your stories, Deordie. What have you been thinking of?"
To the little Jean, Geordie had been playmate and protector in one, her absolute slave from the time she sat on her old grandmother's knee, and, tiring of that position, lisped out, "Deordie, Deordie," holding out her little brown hands so that he might take her, and then they would sit together on the earthen floor of the cottage, and the gipsy locks would intermingle with Geordie's flaxen hair, which yielded meekly to as rough treatment from the little brown fingers as ever hapless terrier of the nursery was called on to undergo.
"Oh, of course not," she answered. "You've nothing to cry about. You're grown up, and you live all alone in a beautiful house, and you do as you like, and never get into rows, or have anybody but yourself to think about; and no nasty pocket-handkerchiefs to hem." "Very nice; eh, Deordie?" said the Doctor. "Awfully jolly," said Deordie. "Nothing else to wish for, eh?"
If you will get that handkerchief done, and take it to your mother with a kiss, and not keep me waiting, I'll have you all to tea, and tell you the story of Tommy Trout." "This very night?" shouted Deordie. "This very night." "Every one of us?" inquired the young gentleman with rapturous incredulity. "Every one of you. Now, Tiny, how about that work?" "It's just done," said Tiny. "Oh!
"You insatiable rascal!" said the Doctor. "Not another word. Jump up, for I am going to see you home. I have to be off early to-morrow." "Where?" said Deordie. "Never mind. I shall be away all day, and I want to be at home in good time in the evening, for I mean to attack that crop of groundsel between the sweet-pea hedges. You know, no Brownies come to my homestead!"
"Well," said Deordie, who was as good-tempered as he was slow, "the other day Nurse shut me up in the back nursery for borrowing her scissors and losing them; but I'd got 'Grimm' inside one of my knickerbockers, so when she locked the door, I sat down to read.
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