The Argosy — page 329: what you’re looking at

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

308 A Dream from Heaven. heels are off. Mamma says they will not. And I am ashamed of my clothes, all the fellows look at them so.” | I cannot buy him any shoes to-day. Perhaps by night I may have some luck. I have told him to remain at home. Shabby, and shoe- less, and made game of! My poor boy, who was destined for Eton ! There’s a man advertised for in this morning’s paper, to copy deeds at his own house, at so much per folio. I shall hasten to town and go after it. Thursday Night.—Still no money. A shilling or two for the press- ing wants of the hour, and that is all. Algernon must still remain at home. <A knock at the door. Eugh! how I shiver to hear those knocks! Oh—the schoolmaster has sent his compliments and wishes to know why Master Grainger was not at school. An excuse to be made there. I went after the copying and had my usual luck. They had made arrangements, and did not require me. Margaret says she has had a wretched day. One or two pressing creditors have called, and been loud and angry; Algernon, boy-like , has been worrying and troublesome ; and Jemima, the old servant who has clung to us in our misfortunes, partly from affection, partly because we have not had it in our power to discharge her, has been in one of her evil tempers, finding fault with everything, and reproaching Margaret with the non-payment of her wages. Poor Jemima! she does work ; washing and everything falls to her; and in her better moods she asks if I think she will leave her poor mistress to do it all; but when her temper breaks out, there is no bearing the house. No peace in-doors, no peace out. Whata life is ours! June, Monday.—Yesterday we hada good dinner, good and plentiful. How sincerely I thanked God in my heart when we sat down ‘to it, He alone can tell. The paraded formal grace usually offered up, how much of lively thankfulness does that contain? Ah, we must undergo the pangs of hunger, continued, repeated, daily-recurring hunger, ere we can understand the gratitude due to Heaven for its bounteous supply of daily food. oj I sometimes catch myself envying the street beggars, for they at least have not an appearance to keep up. Howis it that some people seem to bask away their lives in flowers and sunshine? From the cradle to the grave, their path never seems to be overshadowed by adversity. Yet, it may be, that they have some secret sorrow: a great ugly skeleton in the closet: all the more consuming from the very concealment it has to observe to the world. Friday.—I have been telling Margaret my project of applying to Lewis. She is over-sanguine : thinks he cannot refuse : wonders I never thought of it before. I will not delay. Gomilcbooks: co m