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Updated: April 30, 2025
A full mind is the true Pantheism, plena Jovis. It is only in some corner of the brain which we leave empty that Vice can obtain a lodging. When she knocks at your door, my son, be able to say, "No room for your ladyship; pass on." Your affectionate father, A. CAXTON. FROM Mrs. My Dearest Sisty, You are coming home!
"But gentlemen in your predicament must have recourse to artificial means. A certain great lord had a clod of fresh earth, laid in a napkin, put under his nose every morning after sleep. Light anointing of the head with oil, mixed with roses and salt, is not bade but, upon the whole, I prescribe the saffron bag at the " "Sisty, my dear, will you look for my scissors?" said my mother.
Blanche. "I thought you were here, Sisty: may I stay?" Pisistratus. "Why, my dear child, the day is so fine that instead of losing it indoors, you ought to be running in the fields with Juba." Juba. "Bow-wow." Blanche. "Will you come too? If Sisty stays in, Blanche does not care for the butterflies!"
Blanche, too, whom I had left a child, Blanche, my constant correspondent during those long years of exile, in letters crossed and recrossed, with all the small details that make the eloquence of letter-writing, so that in those epistles I had seen her mind gradually grow up in harmony with the very characters, at first vague and infantine, then somewhat stiff with the first graces of running-hand, then dashing off free and facile; and for the last year before I left, so formed yet so airy, so regular yet so unconscious of effort, though in truth, as the calligraphy had become thus matured, I had been half vexed and half pleased to perceive a certain reserve creeping over the style, wishes for my return less expressed from herself than as messages from others, words of the old child-like familiarity repressed, and "Dearest Sisty" abandoned for the cold form of "Dear Cousin."
I was, in truth, nearly seventeen, and I gave myself the airs of a man. Now, be it observed that that crisis in adolescent existence wherein we first pass from Master Sisty into Mr. Pisistratus, or Pisistratus Caxton, Esq.; wherein we arrogate, and with tacit concession from our elders, the long-envied title of young man, always seems a sudden and imprompt upshooting and elevation.
Did you not share in the day dreams your brother conjured up, and exclaim, 'If my brother could be the means of raising him in the world! And when you thought we had found the way to fame and fortune, did you not sob out from your full heart, 'And it is my brother who will pay back to his son all all he gave up for me'?" "I cannot bear this, Sisty! Cease, cease!"
With all my heart, so far as I am concerned." "Sisty," said Blanche, with an appalling solemnity on her face, "do you know what I've been thinking?" "Not I, miss what? Something very deep, I can see, very horrible, indeed, I fear; you look so serious."
They keep it from me, and that is my hardest punishment; for when I don't know all that he that Austin suffers, it seems to me as if I had lost his heart. Oh, Sisty, my child, my child, don't fear me! I shall be happy whatever befalls us, if I once get back my privilege, my privilege, Sisty, to comfort, to share! Do you understand me?" "Yes indeed, my mother!
"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?"
In the pit of the stomach is that great central web of nerves called the ganglions; thence they affect the head and the heart. Mr. Squills proved that to us, Sisty." "Yes," said I; "but I never heard Mr. Squills talk of a saffron bag." "Oh, foolish boy! it is not the saffron bag, it is the belief in the saffron bag. Apply Belief to the centre of the nerves, and all will go well," said my father.
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