Judge — June 7, 1884 — page 6: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

SSN ae SAN WwW WY SV SSSs55 Tales of My Grandmother. TALE NO. 1. My grandmother has just died, and been buried, in fact very much buried, very much indeed. She was a most remarkable old lady. Every one liked her, every one admired her, every one respected her; but she had her little peculiarities, but no one minded them, for she was wealthy, amiable and generous toa fault. I was her only grandchild, so on me devolves the responsibility of record- ing her various virtues, and handing down her biography, so far as I know it, to her great posterity—should she ever have any, and should it ever become great. I always admired Sir Walter Scott, and in my chil hood received many a “spanking” ‘over his “Tales of a Grandfather,” occurred to me, that my little sketch, if entitled “ Tales of My Grandmother,” might be equally interesting and instructive. I was five years old when I first went to hence the idea | live with grandma. Sho always seemed to me to enjoy a great deal of very bad health. So much so, that I always hoped that the great Dr. Dulcimer, who came to see her every day, might not ever remove her mala- dy whatever it was, and he never did. I loved my grandma very dearly. I used often to be carried to her room, that she might weep over me and bid me farewell before she died. Every morning I was brought in as soon as she was dressed, and she would inspect me all over, from my | buckled shoes to my curly hair, and then say to Miss Humble, her companion, “ How painful.” I afterwards learned this remark referred to my likeness to my father. We lived in s very handsome mansion in Fifth Avenue, and each day that the state of her health and the state of the weather permitted she took carriage exercise, generally in the Park. I well remember one day on her return from the Park, she missed her foot, step- ping out of the carriage. She fell to the | ground, and was apparently quite unable to move. She caused herself to be carried to her room, and sentat once for Dr. Dulcimer, He was much shocked at the prostrate con- dition in which he found her, and, with a view to ascertaining the extent of her inju- ries, enquired upon which side she had fall- en. My grandmother could not at the moment remember, but on applying to the footman Dr. Dulcimer learned that it was on the muddy side, and he then pronounced there was no harm done beyond the shock to the system, which a few days rest and care would put right. How relieved we all were and how we blessed and praised the skill and perspicuity of the devoted Dulcimer! My grandmother was a little woman (five foot nothing), with dignified, gentle, and peculiarly attractive manners. She was slight, too; mere feather weight. She had a great dread of exposing herself to any cold, so much so, that, though she attended church and drove out regularly during winter, she was always enveloped, head, face, body and all, ina huge blanket shawl, and carried in and unrolled by a tall, muscular footman she kept for the purpose. She had many other equally prudent precautions. For example, when the weather was cold, her maid always crept under her bed clothes in order to dress her, and when any exercise was deemed essential, my grandmother would don her beaver bonnet, and warm shawl, her thick veil and respirator, and, arming her- self with a huge umbrella to keep off the draughts, would solemnly — promenade throngh the bed rooms on the second floor, in which she had previously caused fires to be lighted. What an old lady she was! I feel sure [ shall never find her equal again. And what a bad boy I How often troublesome, how often idle, how deceitful, and yet how she trasted me. ‘Charles, dear, how did you get that dreadful black eye?” «Why granny, my bed is so low I can’t manage anyhow. I trod on my eye getting up this morning, and it is darned gore.” “Oh! Charles dear, what shocking words, and how careless you are, Miss Humble, dear, will you put another mattress on Charles’ eye, and tell Martin to put some raw beef in his bed. No, my dear, that’s not it, but you know what I mean.” Or again: “Charles, dear, how did you get into sucha heat? You know howoften I have cautioned ying violent games.” y, I wasn’t playing games; I only ran a little to save your beautiful gri- malkin from a nasty, ugly, mean looking bull dog. “Oh! have saved my &weet pu If you should catch your death of cold in consequence, I could never forgive myself, Miss Humble, dear, will you tell Martin that I wish Charles to bathe his feet in gruel to-night, and have plenty of mustard and water to drink, No, my dear, that’s not quite right, but you know what I mean.” She would not send me toa public school, dear grannie! So I daily attended a private one, A small class, where I and seven other spirits as wicked as myself, were instructed by a tutor who was more wicked than us all put together. I dined with my grandmother every day, and had always permission to bring home any school friends I pleased, because, as she said, ‘My health, lately, does not allow of my playing ‘Puss in the corner,’ or ‘Cat’s cradle,’ or ‘Blind man’s buff,’ or even ‘ Tag,’ or ‘ Hare and hounds,” so you had better. have a companion of your own age, though you must not play any of “thank you, dear Charles. And you comicbooks.com