The Classic Humor MEGAPACK ®. Эдгар Аллан По

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СКАЧАТЬ My children are so well trained, that even when alone their sports are always serious.”

      Two of the boys glanced slyly at each other, with what Edward Morland comprehended as an expression of pitch-penny and marbles.

      “They are now engaged at their game of astronomy,” continued Mrs. Watkinson. “They have also a sort of geography cards, and a set of mathematical cards. It is a blessed discovery, the invention of these educationary games; so that even the play-time of children can be turned to account. And you have no idea, ma’am, how they enjoy them.”

      Just then the boy Joseph rose from the table, and stalking up to Mrs. Watkinson, said to her, “Mamma, please to whip me.”

      At this unusual request the visitors looked much amazed, and Mrs. Watkinson replied to him, “Whip you, my best Joseph—for what cause? I have not seen you do anything wrong this evening, and you know my anxiety induces me to watch my children all the time.”

      “You could not see me,” answered Joseph, “for I have not done anything very wrong. But I have had a bad thought, and you know Mr. Ironrule says that a fault imagined is just as wicked as a fault committed.”

      “You see, ma’am, what a good memory he has,” said Mrs. Watkinson aside to Mrs. Morland. “But my best Joseph, you make your mother tremble. What fault have you imagined? What was your bad thought?”

      “Ay,” said another boy, “what’s your thought like?”

      “My thought,” said Joseph, “was ‘Confound all astronomy, and I could see the man hanged that made this game.’”

      “Oh! my child,” exclaimed the mother, stopping her ears, “I am indeed shocked. I am glad you repented so immediately.”

      “Yes,” returned Joseph, “but I am afraid my repentance won’t last. If I am not whipped, I may have these bad thoughts whenever I play at astronomy, and worse still at the geography game. Whip me, ma, and punish me as I deserve. There’s the rattan in the corner: I’ll bring it to you myself.”

      “Excellent boy!” said his mother. “You know I always pardon my children when they are so candid as to confess their faults.”

      “So you do,” said Joseph, “but a whipping will cure me better.”

      “I cannot resolve to punish so conscientious a child,” said Mrs. Watkinson.

      “Shall I take the trouble off your hands?” inquired Edward, losing all patience in his disgust at the sanctimonious hypocrisy of this young Blifil. “It is such a rarity for a boy to request a whipping, that so remarkable a desire ought by all means to be gratified.”

      Joseph turned round and made a face at him.

      “Give me the rattan,” said Edward, half laughing, and offering to take it out of his hand. “I’ll use it to your full satisfaction.”

      The boy thought it most prudent to stride off and return to the table, and ensconce himself among his brothers and sisters; some of whom were staring with stupid surprise; others were whispering and giggling in the hope of seeing Joseph get a real flogging.

      Mrs. Watkinson having bestowed a bitter look on Edward, hastened to turn the attention of his mother to something else. “Mrs. Morland,” said she, “allow me to introduce you to my youngest hope.” She pointed to a sleepy boy about five years old, who with head thrown back and mouth wide open, was slumbering in his chair.

      Mrs. Watkinson’s children were of that uncomfortable species who never go to bed; at least never without all manner of resistance. All her boasted authority was inadequate to compel them; they never would confess themselves sleepy; always wanted to “sit up,” and there was a nightly scene of scolding, coaxing, threatening and manoeuvring to get them off.

      “I declare,” said Mrs. Watkinson, “dear Benny is almost asleep. Shake him up, Christopher. I want him to speak a speech. His school-mistress takes great pains in teaching her little pupils to speak, and stands up herself and shows them how.”

      The child having been shaken up hard (two or three others helping Christopher), rubbed his eyes and began to whine. His mother went to him, took him on her lap, hushed him up, and began to coax him. This done, she stood him on his feet before Mrs. Morland, and desired him to speak a speech for the company. The child put his thumb into his mouth, and remained silent.

      “Ma,” said Jane Watkinson, “you had better tell him what speech to speak.”

      “Speak Cato or Plato,” said his mother. “Which do you call it? Come now, Benny—how does it begin? ‘You are quite right and reasonable, Plato.’ That’s it.”

      “Speak Lucius,” said his sister Jane. “Come now, Benny—say ‘your thoughts are turned on peace.’”

      The little boy looked very much as if they were not, and as if meditating an outbreak.

      “No, no!” exclaimed Christopher, “let him say Hamlet. Come now, Benny—’To be or not to be.’”

      “It ain’t to be at all,” cried Benny, “and I won’t speak the least bit of it for any of you. I hate that speech!”

      “Only see his obstinacy,” said the solemn Joseph. “And is he to be given up to?”

      “Speak anything, Benny,” said Mrs. Watkinson, “anything so that it is only a speech.”

      All the Watkinson voices now began to clamor violently at the obstinate child—“Speak a speech! speak a speech! speak a speech!” But they had no more effect than the reiterated exhortations with which nurses confuse the poor heads of babies, when they require them to “shake a day-day—shake a day-day!”

      Mrs. Morland now interfered, and begged that the sleepy little boy might be excused; on which he screamed out that “he wasn’t sleepy at all, and would not go to bed ever.”

      “I never knew any of my children behave so before,” said Mrs. Watkinson. “They are always models of obedience, ma’am. A look is sufficient for them. And I must say that they have in every way profited by the education we are giving them. It is not our way, ma’am, to waste our money in parties and fooleries, and fine furniture and fine clothes, and rich food, and all such abominations. Our first duty is to our children, and to make them learn everything that is taught in the schools. If they go wrong, it will not be for want of education. Hester, my dear, come and talk to Miss Morland in French.”

      Hester (unlike her little brother that would not speak a speech) stepped boldly forward, and addressed Caroline Morland with: “Parlez-vous Français, mademoiselle? Comment se va madame votre mère? Aimez-vous la musique? Aimez-vous la danse? Bon jour—bon soir—bon repos. Comprenez-vous?”

      To this tirade, uttered with great volubility, Miss Morland made no other reply than, “Oui—je comprens.”

      “Very well, Hester—very well indeed,” said Mrs. Watkinson. “You see, ma’am,” turning to Mrs. Morland, “how very fluent she is in French; and she has only been learning eleven quarters.”

      After considerable whispering between Jane and her mother, the former withdrew, and sent in by the Irish girl a waiter with a basket of soda biscuit, a pitcher of water, and some glasses. Mrs. Watkinson invited her guests to consider themselves at home and help СКАЧАТЬ