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Updated: June 14, 2025
I was only seven, you know, and my father never would talk of it. Sibby used to revile the mane nagur, Misther Fulbert, till it was current in the nursery that he was a black man who expelled us vi et armis. One day, my father found four or five of us in a row slashing at an old black doll, by way of killing Misther Fulbert, and prohibited such executions.
By and by, after some unseen preparation all the more mystifying because carried on in the kitchen, where Sibby always used to keep Theodore in a cradle till Felix was ready for him Will Harewood caused Felix to stand exactly opposite to him and to the spectators, with a dinner-plate in his hand, and under injunctions to imitate the operator exactly.
Very tired and stiff, and very anxious she felt, but she was obliged to go down as soon as she was dressed, since she always took charge of her mother before breakfast on Sunday while Sibby went to mass.
She was a sensitive little body, who found it hard not to be fretful, when told that it was very ill-natured to object to having her paints daubed over her drawings by Lance, Robina, and Angel an accusation often brought against her by rough, kindly Sibby, and sometimes even by Wilmet in an extremity: while Mamma's subdued entreaty, that she would do something to please the little ones, if it could be without mischief to herself, always humiliated her more than anything else, and made her ready to leave all to their mercy, save for deference to Edgar, and gratitude to Felix.
I tell you, Miss Wilmet, I never thought that long boy the aquil of his brothers till I saw him in time of need. Yer father himself Heaven be his bed! couldn't have been tenderer with Theodore nor Miss Cherry, by night or by day, an' never a cross word when he was bothered past his life with Miss Alda's ugliness an' the children's boldness. 'Oh, those children! What is come to them, Sibby?
"No wonder," said Lance, "with such contributors as the Harewoods, and such a war-correspondent as Aubrey May." Just then the door began to open, and a black silk personage disconsolately exclaimed "Master Clement! Master Clem! Wherever is the boy gone, when he ought to be in his bed?" "Ha, Sibby!" cried Lance, catching both hands, and kissing the cheery, withered-apple cheeks of the old nurse.
Then, seeing how worn-out Clement looked, he abetted Sibby and Geraldine, in shutting their patient safe up in his bedroom, not to be "mislested" any more that night, said Sibby. So he missed the rush of the return.
"If ye'll take yer jelly, sir," said Sibby, "as it's fainting ye'll be, and bringing our hearts into our mouths." So Sibby administered her jelly, and heard histories of Lance's children, then, after exacting a promise that Master Lance should only sing once, she withdrew, as peremptory and almost as happy as in her once crowded nursery. "What shall that once be, Clem?" asked Lance.
'I wish it had been he! said Lance. 'Sibby has asked leave to go to the burial, added Wilmet. 'I hope you gave it, said Felix. 'Mr.
'Stella, dear, to the little one, who had her story-book at hand, 'run and ask Sibby to bring Felix out a cup of tea. Then she tried to guess at his face, but durst not look at him fully. 'Are you very tired? 'Rather! That place was a mere oven of roaring!
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