” said Maggie, triumphantly, “and I’ll show you the picture of him in his true shape, as he fought with Christian.”
Maggie ran in an instant to the corner of the room, jumped on a chair,Logan Brown Tröjor, and reached down from the small bookcase a shabby old copy of Bunyan, which opened at once, without the least trouble of search, at the picture she wanted.
“Here he is,” she said, running back to Mr. Riley, “and Tom colored him for me with his paints when he was at home last holidays — the body all black,T.J. Oshie Tröjor, you know,Doug Gilmour Tröjor, and the eyes red, like fire,Pierre Pilote Tröjor, because he’s all fire inside,Patrik Laine Tröjor, and it shines out at his eyes.”
“Go, go!” said Mr. Tulliver, peremptorily, beginning to feel rather uncomfortable at these free remarks on the personal appearance of a being powerful enough to create lawyers; “shut up the book, and let’s hear no more o’ such talk. It is as I thought — the child ‘ull learn more mischief nor good wi’ the books. Go, go and see after your mother.”
Maggie shut up the book at once, with a sense of disgrace,Patrice Bergeron Tröjor, but not being inclined to see after her mother, she compromised the matter by going into a dark corner behind her father’s chair, and nursing her doll, toward which she had an occasional fit of fondness in Tom’s absence, neglecting its toilet, but lavishing so many warm kisses on it that the waxen cheeks had a wasted, unhealthy appearance.
“Did you ever hear the like on’t?” said Mr. Tulliver,Jimmy Howard Tröjor, as Maggie retired. “It’s a pity but what she’d been the lad — she’d ha’ been a match for the lawyers, she would. It’s the wonderful’st thing”— here he lowered his voice —“as I picked the mother because she wasn’t o’er ‘cute — bein’ a good-looking woman too,Michal Rozsival Tröjor, an’ come of a rare family for managing; but I picked her from her sisters o’ purpose, ‘cause she was a bit weak like; for I wasn’t agoin’ to be told the rights o’ things by my own fireside. But you see when a man’s got brains himself, there’s no knowing where they’ll run to; an’ a pleasant sort o’ soft woman may go on breeding you stupid lads and ‘cute wenches,CG Menn Lodge Down Hoody Jakke, till it’s like as if the world was turned topsy-turvy. It’s an uncommon puzzlin’ thing.”
Mr. Riley’s gravity gave way, and he shook a little under the application of his pinch of snuff before he said —
“But your lad’s not stupid, is he? I saw him, when I was here last, busy making fishing-tackle; he seemed quite up to it.”
“Well, he isn’t not to say stupid — he’s got a notion o’ things out o’ door, an’ a sort o’ common sense, as he’d lay hold o’ things by the right handle. But he’s slow with his tongue,Dennis Seidenberg Tröjor, you see,Zemgus Girgensons Tröjor, and he reads but poorly, and can’t abide the books, and spells all wrong,Bobby Baun Tröjor, they tell me, an’ as shy as can be wi’ strangers, an’ you never hear him say ‘cute things like the little wench. Now, what I want is to send him to a school where they’ll make him a bit nimble with his tongue and his pen, and make a smart chap of him. I want my son to be even w
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