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Updated: June 5, 2025
This, however, is Philology, and doesn't matter. Let Aunt M'riar go on. "Now just you think how alike old persons do get, by reason of change. 'Tain't any fault of their own. Mrs. Prichard she's often by way of inquiring about Mrs. Marrowbone, and I should say she rather takes her to heart." "How's that, Mrs. Wardle? Why 'takes her to heart'?" A joint question of the ladies.
But he managed to wind up: "And then Granny Marrowbone put it back on the mankleshelf for next time." This narrative was, of course, quite unintelligible to its hearers; but we understand it, and its mention of the carman's name.
Did you ever pick the lock of a cupboard to steal a bottle of wine out of it? Tell me truly, and, if you did, call to mind the countenance which then you had. Or, did you ever see a dog with a marrowbone in his mouth, the beast of all other, says Plato, lib. 2, de Republica, the most philosophical?
If you please, my lady!" "This writing here?" said Gwen, turning the paper. "Oh yes this is Mrs. Picture again. 'Dave says I am to write for him what this is he has drawed for Granny Marrowbone to see. The lady may see it, too. ... That's not me; he doesn't know me.... Oh, I see! it's my mother...." "Yes that's Cousin Philippa. Go on."
Marrowbone the Smith from Crincham he come next day and mended up the gate, only the bool he was tied to a post, and the boy whistled him a tune, or he would have tostid Mr. Marrowbone the Smith." Said Aunt M'riar irrelevantly: "What was the tune he whistled, Dave? You tell Mrs. Prichard what tune it was he whistled!" To which Dave answered with reserve: "A long tune."
And, if you can conceive it, there was pain in her voice real pain as well as the treble of old age. She was jealous, you see; jealous of this old Mrs. Marrowbone, who seemed to come between her and her little new-found waterspring in the desert. But Dave was embarrassed, and she took his embarrassment for reluctance to grant her the same status as old Mrs. Marrowbone. It was nothing of the sort.
This evening we had what I call an excellent supper it consisted of a marrowbone a piece and a brisket of boiled Elk that had the appearance of a little fat on it. this for Fort Clatsop is living in high stile.
This time she must needs say: "There, Davy, now! Hear what Mrs. Prichard says so kind! You tell Mrs. Prichard all about Mrs. Marrowbone and the bull in the duckpond. You tell her!" Dave, with absolute belief in the boon he was conferring on his venerable hearer, started at once on a complicated statement, as one who accepted the instruction in the spirit in which it was given.
A startling idea flashed into his mind. "In your country I'm told there is an act of will called 'absorbing. What is that?" She held her red, dripping hands away from her draperies, and uttered a delicious, clashing laugh. "You think I am half a man?" "Answer my question." "I'm a woman through and through, Maskull to the marrowbone. But that's not to say I have never absorbed males."
Then abroad with my wife by coach to Marrowbone, where my Lord Mayor and Aldermen, it seem, dined to-day: and were just now going away, methought, in a disconsolate condition, compared with their splendour they formerly had, when the City was standing.
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