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Poitiers, by the way, is always spelt with an s, and I know no reason why orthography should give place to rhyme.
Garonne and sun is a bad rhyme. Why, Frank, you do not even understand the beggarly trade you have chosen.
A cloud of flame is something newGood-morrow, my masters all, and a merry Christmas to you!Why, the bellman writes better lines. He then tossed the paper from him with an air of superlative contempt, and concluded,Upon my credit, Frank, you are a greater blockhead than I took you for. What could I say, my dear Tresham?There I stood, swelling with indignant mortification, while my father regarded me with a calm but stern look of scorn and pity; and poor Owen, with uplifted hands and eyes, looked as striking a picture of horror as if he had just read his patrons name in the Gazette. At length I took courage to speak, endeavouring that my tone of voice should betray my feelings as little as possible. I am quite aware, sir, how ill qualified I am to play the conspicuous part in society you have destined for me; and luckily, I am not ambitious of the wealth I might acquire. Mr. Owen would be a much more effective assistant. I said this in some malice, for I considered Owen as having deserted my cause a little too soon. Owen? said my fatherThe boy is mad, actually insane. And, pray, sir, if I may presume to inquire, having coolly turned me over to Mr. Owen (although I may expect more attention from any one than from my son), what may your own sage projects be? I should wish, sir, I replied, summoning up my courage, to travel for two or three years, should that consist with your pleasure; otherwise, although late, I would willingly spend the same time at Oxford or Cambridge. In the name of common sense! was the like ever heard?to put yourself to school among pedants and Jacobites, when you might be pushing your fortune in the world! Why not go to Westminster or Eton at once, man, and take to Lillys Grammar and Accidence, and to the birch too, if you like it? Then, sir, if you think my plan of improvement too late, I would willingly return to the Continent. You have already spent too much time there to little purpose, Mr. Francis. Then I would choose the army, sir, in preference to any other active line of life. Choose the dl, answered my father hastily, and then checking himselfI profess you make me as great a fool as you are yourself.Is he not enough to drive one mad, Owen?Poor Owen shook his head, and looked down. Hark ye, Frank, continued my father, I will cut all this matter very shortI was at your age when my father turned me out of doors, and settled my legal inheritance on my younger brother. I left Osbaldistone Hall on the back of a broken-down hunter, with ten guineas in my purse. I have never crossed the threshold again, and I never will. I know not, and I care not, if my fox-hunting |
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