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Updated: May 3, 2025
It seemed to him that Cecile in her earnest desire to see this Guide might lie down and court the sleep which would, alas! come so easily. He was therefore surprised when she said to him in a quiet and reproachful tone, "Do you think I would lie down and go to sleep and die, Jography? I should like to die, but I must not die just yet.
A thrain that is goin' to anny iv th' penal colonies where most men spind their vacations will stop at more places thin a boy on an errand. Whiniver it sees a human habitation it will pause an' exchange a few wurruds iv pleasant greetin'. It will stop at annything. It wud stop at nawthin'. "In this way ye get a good idee iv th' jography iv ye'er native land.
We are not English, we are foreign; me and Maurice are just a little French boy and girl, and we are going back to France, if we can find Jography to tell us how. But we want a night's lodging first. Will you give us a night's lodging, ma'am? We can pay you, please, ma'am."
"Where do you come from?" "Brixtonbury, sir." "Brixtonbury! Where's that?" "Well, sir, I don't rightly know. If a gentleman like you, knowing jography and such, can't tell, how can I?" "You ought to know where you were born, man. Haven't you got common sense?" "Where could such a one as me get common sense, sir? Besides, I was only a foundling. Mebbe I warn's born at all."
Well, he tells me you've ben 'crost the water. 'Ta'n't jest like this over there, I guess. Pretty sightly places they be though, a'n't they? I've seen picturs in Melindy's jography, looks as ef 'twa'n't so woodsy over there as 'tis in these parts, 'specially out West.
"In this night-school," she added, "for those children at least, who go regularly to day-school, we try as much as possible to consult their taste, so what do you like best for me to teach you, dear?" Cecile, opening her blue eyes wide, answered: "Jography, please, ma'am. I'd rayther learn jography than anything else in all the world." "But why?" asked the deaconess, surprised at this answer.
"Why, Missie," answered Joe, "I s'pose as I could manage it. But what do I want with blue eyes and gold hair? That ain't my mother, nor Jean neither." "Yes, Jography. But 'tis Lovedy. My stepmother said as I was to ask for that sort of girl in all the small villages and all the tiny inns, dear Jography,"
Then you know, Joe, you told me you were for a whole long seven years trying to get back to your mother and brother, and you never could run away from your cruel master before. Oh, dear Jography! of course 'twas Jesus did it all, and now we're going home together to our own home in dear south of France." "Well, missie, perhaps as you're right.
I thought I should see Him and feel His hand, and when me and Maurice found ourselves alone outside Calais, and we did not know a word of French, I did, I did wish Jesus lived down here and not up in heaven, and I said I wished it, and then I said that I even wished jography was a person, and I had hardly said it before you came.
Don't you two agree to nothink till you hears my story." "But 'tis sure to be a nice story, Jography," said Maurice. "I shall like going south with you." "Well, sit on my knee and listen, young un. No; it ain't nice a bit. I'm French too, and I'm South too. I used to live in the Pyrenees. I lived there till I was seven years old. I had a mother and no father, and I had a big brother.
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