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‘Perhaps he does; but that is nothing to you.’ ‘If he doesn’t, you ought to tell him, mamma.’ ‘I have told him.’ The little moralist paused and pondered. I tried in vain to divert his mind from the subject. ‘I’m sorry papa’s wicked,’ said he mournfully, at length, ‘for I don’t want him to go to hell.’ And so saying he burst into tears.
And then, “Oh, my papa’s come!” she screamed; “my papa’s come to my Christmas tree after all!” There is so much to tell about the Christmas tree that I don’t know where to begin. First of all came Laura and Harold. Mrs. Lathrop stopped with them for a moment to congratulate Mrs. Dore on finding her mother. “Mrs. Lathrop, permit me to introduce my father, Mr. Westabrook,” Maida said. Mrs.
Jones was inclined to corpulency, and I can well remember how we all laughed when, on one occasion, the daughter of a neighbouring minister, having opened the door in reply to his knock, ran delightedly into her papa’s study to announce the arrival of the Tract Society!
‘Not I, indeed!’ was the phlegmatic reply; and my appearance prevented further discussion. ‘You’re so unfortunate, Mr. Markham!’ observed the younger sister, with one of her arch, sidelong glances. ‘Papa’s just gone out into the parish, and not likely to be back for an hour!’
Masturbation, for instance, is quite frequent, while willful wetting and soiling is still more common. We sometimes meet with childishness, both in vocabulary and mode of expression. In one case there was evidently a delusion of a return to actual childhood, for she kept insisting that she was “in papa’s house.”
Charming person Mr. Tupple—perfect ladies’ man—such a delightful companion, too! Laugh!—nobody ever understood papa’s jokes half so well as Mr. Tupple, who laughs himself into convulsions at every fresh burst of facetiousness. Most delightful partner! talks through the whole set! and although he does seem at first rather gay and frivolous, so romantic and with so much feeling! Quite a love.
And her heart sank steadily all the afternoon for the rain continued to come down. “I don’t suppose I can go, Granny,” she faltered when the clock struck four. “Sure an you can,” Granny responded briskly. But she wrapped Maida up, as Maida herself said: “As if I was one of papa’s carved crystals come all the way from China.” First Granny put on a sweater, then a coat, then over all a raincoat.
“This is my toilet-set.” Laura pointed to the glittering articles on the bureau. “Papa’s given them to me, one piece at a time. It’s all of silver and every thing has my initials on it. What is your set of?”
He tried to get up when I came in, but that was hopeless; so he reached me a hand instead, and stumbled out some salutation. “Papa’s pretty full this morning,” observed Case. “We’ve had an epidemic here; and Captain Randall takes gin for a prophylactic—don’t you, Papa?” “Never took such a thing in my life!” cried the captain indignantly. “Take gin for my health’s sake, Mr.
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