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Updated: April 30, 2025
By Jupiter, Sisty, that same Hall was a fine fellow! I wonder if the medicine has gone through the same channels in both? Tell me, first, how it has affected you." "Imprimis, then, my dear uncle, I fancy that a book like this must do good to all who live in the world in the ordinary manner, by admitting us into a circle of life of which I suspect we think but little.
"Why, you must know," said my father, "that Sisty has fished up a friend of whom he can give no account that would satisfy a policeman, and whose fortunes he thinks himself under the necessity of protecting. You are very lucky that he has not picked your pockets, Sisty; but I dare say he has. What's his name?" "Vivian," said I, "Francis Vivian." "A good name and a Cornish," said my father.
"All well?" cried I. "All well, sir," answered the servant, cheerfully. "Mr. Squills, indeed, is with master, but I don't think there is anything the matter." But now my mother appeared at the threshold, and I was in her arms. "Sisty, Sisty! my dear, dear son beggared, perhaps and my fault mine." "Yours! Come into this room, out of hearing, your fault?"
My heart is so full of that thought that it seems to me as if I could not write anything else. Dear child, you are coming home; you have done with school, you have done with strangers, you are our own, all our own son again! You are mine again, as you were in the cradle, the nursery, and the garden, Sisty, when we used to throw daisies at each other!
She knew just such another as Master Sisty, when she lived at Torquay, who wasted away and went out like a snuff, all because he would not wear flannel waistcoats." Therewith my mother looks grave, and says, "One can't take too much precaution." Suddenly the whole neighborhood is thrown into commotion. Trevanion I beg his pardon, Lord Ulverstone is coming to settle for good at Compton.
"Pooh, pooh." MR. CAXTON. "Write a book, my son, write a book. Need I tell you that Money or Moneta, according to Hyginus, was the mother of the Muses? Write a book." "O yes, Sisty, a book! a book! you must write a book."
Pisistratus, seeing that the thread of his day-dreams is broken, consents with an air of resignation. Just as they gain the door, Blanche pauses, and looks as if there were something on her mind. Pisistratus "What now, Blanche? Why are you making knots in that ribbon, and writing invisible characters on the floor with the point of that busy little foot?" "I have found a new room, Sisty.
All I have to say is, that if you add to what I bring an equal sum, to keep up the poor old ruin, it is the utmost that I can allow, and the rest is not more than Pisistratus can spend." So saying, the Captain rose, bowed, and before either of us could stop him, hobbled out of the room. "Dear me, Sisty!" said my mother, wringing her hands; "I have certainly displeased him.
"Why, you must know," said my father, "that Sisty has fished up a friend of whom he can give no account that would satisfy a policeman, and whose fortunes he thinks himself under the necessity of protecting. You are very lucky that he has not picked your pockets, Sisty; but I dare say he has. What's his name?" "Vivian," said I, "Francis Vivian." "A good name and a Cornish," said my father.
Only three weeks to the holidays, and then no more school, Sisty, no more school! I shall have your room all done, freshly, and made so pretty; they are coming about it to-morrow. The duck is quite well, and I really don't think it is quite as lame as it was. God bless you, dear, dear child. Your affectionate happy mother.
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