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Updated: May 15, 2025
I will not recount the history of that defeat, my dears. Nay, to this day I know not how she accomplished the matter. Not once had she asked me to remain, or referred to my going. Nor had I spoken of it, weakling that I was. She had come down in the pink lutestring, smiling but pale; and traces of tears in her eyes, I thought. From that moment I knew that I was defeated.
I was aye thrifty; she knew it was as good as ever a very excellent lutestring, and made for her wedding when she married Mr. Grant so she was determined to take my joke against her out of my mouth." If Miss Christie had not found plenty to do during the next six weeks, she would have grumbled yet more than she did over her wrongs.
CONFUCIUS. And were you the only reader of Wells? If there were others like you, had they not the same reason for keeping the secret? THE ARCHBISHOP. That is true. But I should know. You short-lived people are so childish. If I met a man of my own age I should recognize him at once. I have never done so. MRS LUTESTRING. Would you recognize a woman of your age, do you think?
In her ladyship's great gilt coach he saw her once or twice a small, shrinking figure seated by her sister's side, the modest pale brown of her lutestring robe a curious contrast to my lady's velvets and brocades; at the play-house he saw her seated in the Countess' box, at which a score of glasses were levelled, her face lighted with wonder and pleasure at the brighter moments of the tragedy, her soft eyes full of tears when the curtain fell upon the corpse-strewn stage.
I will not recount the history of that defeat, my dears. Nay, to this day I know not how she accomplished the matter. Not once had she asked me to remain, or referred to my going. Nor had I spoken of it, weakling that I was. She had come down in the pink lutestring, smiling but pale; and traces of tears in her eyes, I thought. From that moment I knew that I was defeated.
Must I remind you, madam, that I am the President, and that you are only the head of a department? BARNABAS. Ingratitude too! You draw a pension for three hundred years when we owe you only seventy-eight; and you call us ungrateful! MRS LUTESTRING. I do.
My only regret now is that I shall die when I am three hundred or thereabouts. There was only one thing that made life hard; and that is gone now. CONFUCIUS. May we ask what that was? MRS LUTESTRING. Perhaps you will be offended if I tell you. BURGE-LUBIN. Offended!
MRS LUTESTRING. Mr President: have you ever tried to take advantage of the innocence of a little child for the gratification of your senses? BURGE-LUBIN. Good Heavens, madam, what do you take me for? What right have you to ask me such a question? MRS LUTESTRING. I am at present in my two hundred and seventy-fifth year.
He sang in the choir and I had a white dress and a bonnet trimmed with lutestring ribbon. I can smell the clover now and hear the bees hummin' when the windows was open in Summer. A bee come in once while the minister was prayin' and lighted on Deacon Emory's bald head. Seems a'most as if 't was yesterday. "Your pa had great notions," she went on, after a pause.
And will you think me very rude if I say that if I must choose between a white woman old enough to be my great-grandmother and a black woman of my own age, I shall probably find the black woman more sympathetic? MRS LUTESTRING. And more attractive in color, perhaps? BURGE-LUBIN. Yes.
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