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Updated: June 25, 2025
He took his leave also of good Mrs. Julaper, who was completing arrangements with teapot and kettle, spiced elderberry wine, and other comforts, to support them through their proposed vigil. And finally, in a sort of way, he took his leave of the body, with a long business-like stare, from the foot of the bed, with his short hands stuffed into his pockets. And so, to Mrs.
"'Sir Hugh Feltram' is on the frame at the foot; and old Mrs. Julaper says he was the father of the unhappy lady who was said to have been drowned near Snakes Island." "Well, suppose he is; there's nothing interesting in that. It is a disgusting picture. I connect it with my illness; and I think it is the kind of thing that would make any one half mad, if they only looked at it often enough.
There is a shelf on which Mrs Julaper had her Bible, her Whole Duty of Man, and her Pilgrim's Progress; and, in a file beside them, her books of housewifery, and among them volumes of MS. recipes, cookery-books, and some too on surgery and medicine, as practised by the Ladies Bountiful of the Elizabethan age, for which an antiquarian would nowadays give an eye or a hand.
Against the wall stood a full-length portrait as Sir Bale entered the room; having for a wonder, a word to say to his wife. "O," said the pretty lady, turning to him in her apron, and with her brush in her hand, "we are in such in pickle, Munnings and I have been cleaning these old pictures. Mrs. Julaper says they are the pictures that came from Cloostedd Hall long ago.
That will be as Sir Bale may please to direct," answered Mrs. Julaper. "You've got him very straight straighter than I thought you could; but the large joints were not so stiff. A very little longer wait, and you'd hardly have got him into his coffin. He'll want a vr-r-ry long one, poor lad. Short cake is life, ma'am. Sad thing this. They'll open their eyes, I promise you, down in the town.
O, surely you won't think me capable of attacking the man whose bread I have eaten so long! I never dreamed of it; I should hate myself. Tell me you don't believe it; O, Mrs. Julaper, say you don't!" And the gentle feeble creature burst into tears and good Mrs. Julaper comforted him with kind words; and he said, "Thank you, ma'am; thank you.
Julaper, and had a long talk with her. But she could not say that there appeared anything amiss with Philip Feltram; only he seemed more reserved, and as if he was brooding over something he did not intend to tell. "But, you know, Sir Bale, what happened might well make a thoughtful man of him.
Feltram?" called the voice of the baronet, at a fierce pitch, along the passage. "La! Mr. Feltram, it's him! Ye'd better run to him," whispered Mrs. Julaper. "D n me! does nobody hear? Mrs. Julaper! Hollo! ho! house, there! ho! D n me, will nobody answer?" And Sir Bale began to slap the wainscot fast and furiously with his walking-cane with a clatter like a harlequin's lath in a pantomime. Mrs.
"But I'm not hungry, Mrs. Julaper. How kind you are! dear me, Mrs. Julaper, I'm not worthy of it; I don't deserve half your kindness. I'd have been heartbroken long ago, but for you." "And I'll make a sup of something hot for you; you'll take a rummer-glass of punch you must." "But I like the tea better; I do, indeed, Mrs. Julaper." "Tea is no drink for a man when his heart's down.
"Not I, my dear. I'll take a mug of beer and my pipe; that homely solace better befits a ruined gentleman." "H'm, sir; you're not that, Sir Bale; you're no worse than half the lords and great men that are going. I would not hear another say that of you, sir." "That's very kind of you, Mrs. Julaper; but you won't call me out for backbiting myself, especially as it is true, d d true, Mrs. Julaper!
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