mouse-trap by the gardener, then, having once more vainly endeavoured to persuade the little tyrant to let the birds be carried back, I asked what he intended to do with them. With fiendish glee he commenced a list of torments, and while he was busied in the relation, I dropped the stone upon his intended victims, and crushed them flat beneath it.
Loud were the outcries, terrible the execrations, consequent upon this daring outrage; uncle Robson had been coming up the walk with his gun, and was, just then, pausing to kick his dog. Tom flew towards him, vowing he would make him kick me instead of Juno. Mr. Robson leant upon his gun, and laughed excessively at the violence of his nephew’s passion, and the bitter maledictions and opprobrious epithets he heaped upon me.
“Well, you are a good un!” exclaimed he, at length, taking up his weapon, and proceeding towards the house. “Damme, but the lad has some spunk in him too! Curse me, if ever I saw a nobler little scoundrel than that! He’s beyond petticoat government already:—by G-, he defies mother, granny, governess, and all! Ha, ha, ha! Never mind, Tom, I’ll get you another brood to-morrow.”
“If you do, Mr. Robson, I shall kill them too,” said I.
“Humph!” replied he, and having honoured me with a broad stare, which, contrary to his expectations, I sustained without flinching, he turned away with an air of supreme contempt, and stalked into the house.
Tom next went to tell his mamma. It was not her way to say much on any subject; but, when she next saw me, her aspect and demeanour were doubly dark and chill.
After some casual remark about the weather, she observed—
“I am sorry, Miss Grey, you should think it necessary to interfere with Master Bloomfield’s amusements; he was very much distressed about your destroying the birds.”
“When Master Bloomfield’s amusements consist in injuring sentient creatures,” I answered, “I think it my duty to interfere.”
“You seemed to have forgotten,” said she, calmly, “that the creatures were all created for our convenience.”
I thought that doctrine admitted some doubt, but merely replied—
“If they were, we have no right to torment them for our amusement.”
“I think,” said she, “a child’s amusement is scarcely to be weighed against the welfare of a soulless brute.”
“But, for the child’s own sake, it ought not to be encouraged to have such amusements,” answered I, as meekly as I could, to make up for such unusual pertinacity.
“Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy. ” 2
“Oh, of course! but that refers to our conduct towards each other.”
“The merciful man shezus mercy to his beast, ” s
I ventured to add.
“I think you have not shewn much mercy,” replied she, with a short, bitter laugh; “killing the poor birds by wholesale, in that shocking manner, and putting the dear boy to such misery, for a mere whim!”
I judged it prudent to say no more.
This was the nearest approach to a quarrel I ever had with Mrs. Bloomfield, as well as the greatest number of words I ever exchanged with her at one time, since the day of my first arrival.
But Mr. Robson and old Mrs. Bloomfield were not the only guests whose coming to Wellwood House annoyed me; every visiter disturbed me, more or less, not so much, because they neglected me, (though I did feel their conduct strange and disagreeable in that respect) as because I found it so impossible to keep my pupils away from them, as I was repeatedly desired to do: Tom must talk to them, and Mary Ann must be noticed by them. Neither the one nor the other knew what it was to feel any degree of shame-facedness, or even common modesty. They would indecently and clamorously interrupt the conversation of their elders, tease them with the most impertinent questions, roughly collar the gentlemen, climb their knees uninvited, hang about their shoulders, or rifle their pockets, pull the ladies’ gowns, disorder
Loud were the outcries, terrible the execrations, consequent upon this daring outrage; uncle Robson had been coming up the walk with his gun, and was, just then, pausing to kick his dog. Tom flew towards him, vowing he would make him kick me instead of Juno. Mr. Robson leant upon his gun, and laughed excessively at the violence of his nephew’s passion, and the bitter maledictions and opprobrious epithets he heaped upon me.
“Well, you are a good un!” exclaimed he, at length, taking up his weapon, and proceeding towards the house. “Damme, but the lad has some spunk in him too! Curse me, if ever I saw a nobler little scoundrel than that! He’s beyond petticoat government already:—by G-, he defies mother, granny, governess, and all! Ha, ha, ha! Never mind, Tom, I’ll get you another brood to-morrow.”
“If you do, Mr. Robson, I shall kill them too,” said I.
“Humph!” replied he, and having honoured me with a broad stare, which, contrary to his expectations, I sustained without flinching, he turned away with an air of supreme contempt, and stalked into the house.
Tom next went to tell his mamma. It was not her way to say much on any subject; but, when she next saw me, her aspect and demeanour were doubly dark and chill.
After some casual remark about the weather, she observed—
“I am sorry, Miss Grey, you should think it necessary to interfere with Master Bloomfield’s amusements; he was very much distressed about your destroying the birds.”
“When Master Bloomfield’s amusements consist in injuring sentient creatures,” I answered, “I think it my duty to interfere.”
“You seemed to have forgotten,” said she, calmly, “that the creatures were all created for our convenience.”
I thought that doctrine admitted some doubt, but merely replied—
“If they were, we have no right to torment them for our amusement.”
“I think,” said she, “a child’s amusement is scarcely to be weighed against the welfare of a soulless brute.”
“But, for the child’s own sake, it ought not to be encouraged to have such amusements,” answered I, as meekly as I could, to make up for such unusual pertinacity.
“Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy. ” 2
“Oh, of course! but that refers to our conduct towards each other.”
“The merciful man shezus mercy to his beast, ” s
I ventured to add.
“I think you have not shewn much mercy,” replied she, with a short, bitter laugh; “killing the poor birds by wholesale, in that shocking manner, and putting the dear boy to such misery, for a mere whim!”
I judged it prudent to say no more.
This was the nearest approach to a quarrel I ever had with Mrs. Bloomfield, as well as the greatest number of words I ever exchanged with her at one time, since the day of my first arrival.
But Mr. Robson and old Mrs. Bloomfield were not the only guests whose coming to Wellwood House annoyed me; every visiter disturbed me, more or less, not so much, because they neglected me, (though I did feel their conduct strange and disagreeable in that respect) as because I found it so impossible to keep my pupils away from them, as I was repeatedly desired to do: Tom must talk to them, and Mary Ann must be noticed by them. Neither the one nor the other knew what it was to feel any degree of shame-facedness, or even common modesty. They would indecently and clamorously interrupt the conversation of their elders, tease them with the most impertinent questions, roughly collar the gentlemen, climb their knees uninvited, hang about their shoulders, or rifle their pockets, pull the ladies’ gowns, disorder
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