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Updated: June 13, 2025
There was a quarrel about something. Grandmother wanted to visit some one in Vancouver. Grand-dad didn't want her to go. At last he swore by the Word of God if she went he'd never speak to her again. Grandmother cried all night, and next day she went. When she came back, grand-dad wouldn't speak to her; and he ain't ever spoken to her since." "My God!" I exclaimed with a shudder.
Candle in hand, she opened the door and went in. She put the candle on the mantelpiece, and then going to the bed, bent over it and looked at the sleeper. "Poor Grand-dad!" said the girl. She stooped and kissed the old man's forehead. "You have been good to me after your lights it was not your fault that those lights were dim.
But I know, all the same, that Joe's got it in for you. He hasn't forgot the words you and he had." "When did you see him last, Rita?" "He was in to-day. Wanted to know where I was going. Grand-dad told him, then Joe got mad. Says you're 'too damned interfering. Yes! Joe said it. He said to Grand-dad, 'You ain't got no right lettin' that kid go over there.
If my dad or my grand-dad had possessed a tenth of the brain that that old chap had, we'd have our own tabernacle up there on the point, instead of sulking at his back gate. That's really where we're located, you know. His back gate opens smack in the face of our front one. I think he did it with malice aforethought, too. His back gate is two miles from the house.
It may be that her choice was decided by the fact that she drove to the chapel and walked to the church; it may be that, dearly as she loved the vicar, she loved her grand-dad more; or it may be that the simplicity of the chapel, the austerity of the service, and the character of the congregation, all of a kind, close to earth, humble of heart, and russet in hue, attending there for no other reason than because they loved it, appealed to something profound and ineradicable in the spirit of this child bred amongst the austere and simple hills to which she knew herself so close.
If any one deserved to be stricken dumb forever, surely he was that one! And saying a grace at the tea-table that would put a bishop to scorn, all on top of this: oh! the devilish hypocrisy of it! Rita came close to me and laid her head lightly on my shoulder. "Don't be cross at grand-dad, George. He's a mighty good grand-dad. There ain't a better anywhere.
Nature has her way with the old man now, sweet witch." "Nature doesn't improve you, Grand-dad. You require the refining touches of art. Your beard is unkempt, your hair too long. You shall visit the barber after we have concluded our meal. It is distressing to mankind in general to behold a spectacle like you. You owe a duty to the world at large. You must visit the barber." "Chut chut!
"Would you help, if some one knew a way?" "George, sure you ain't foolin'? True, you ain't foolin'?" For answer, I plunged into the scheme. "Now, all we require of you and your grandmother is to sit tight and neither to say nor do anything that would interfere. Leave it to leave it to the minister. He is doing this, and he believes that it is the only way to bring your grand-dad to his senses. Mr.
In everything, but speaking to grandmother, he's a good grand-dad." I could not trust myself to say much. I climbed into the boat and made to push off. "A good grand-dad," I exclaimed bitterly; "good mule, you mean. "Rita, I know what would cure him." "No! you don't, George, for you don't know grand-dad." "Yes! I know what would cure him, Rita." "What?" "A rope-end, well applied."
I cannot say that I much minded to have you at first; but your ways are enough to stir the blood of my grand-dad. Far-fetched and dear-bought is always relishing. Your consent was so hard to gain, that squire thought it was surest asking in the dark. A' said however, a' would have no such doings in his house, and so, do ye see, we are comed here." "For God's sake, Mr.
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