"
Mrs. Margaret lifted up her hands and eyes, and then fetching a deep
sigh, "That I should have lived to hear that," she exclaimed; "the last
representative of the house of Dymock proposing to work at a
blacksmith's forge!"
"And why not? Mrs. Margaret," replied the nephew, "does a gentleman
lower himself when he works merely for recreation, and not for sordid
pelf; you have heard of Peter the Great?"
"Bless me, nephew," replied the spinster, bridling, "where do you think
my ears have been all my life, if I never heard of Peter the Great!"
"You know then, that he worked with his own hands at a blacksmith's
forge," returned the nephew.
"I know no such thing," said Mrs. Margaret, "and if the Romans say so, I
account it only another of their many lies; and I wonder they are not
ashamed to invent tales so derogotary to the honour of him they call
their head!"
"Pshaw!" said the laird; "I am not speaking of the Pope, but of the Czar
of all the Russias!"
"Well! well! Dymock;" returned Mrs. Margaret, "I only wish that I could
persuade you from committing this derogation. However, if you must needs
work with Shanty, let me beg you to put on one of your old shirts; for
the sparks will be sure to fly, and there will be no end of darning the
small burns.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25