酷兔英语

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- What did I say to the schoolmistress? - Permit me one moment. I



don't doubt your delicacy and good-breeding; but in this particular

case, as I was allowed the privilege of walking alone with a very



interesting young woman, you must allow me to remark, in the

classicversion of a familiar phrase, used by our Master Benjamin



Franklin, it is NULLUM TUI NEGOTII.

When the schoolmistress and I reached the school-room door, the



damask roses I spoke of were so much heightened in color by

exercise that I felt sure it would be useful to her to take a



stroll like this every morning, and made up my mind I would ask her

to let me join her again.



EXTRACT FROM MY PRIVATE JOURNAL.

(TO BE BURNED UNREAD.)



I am afraid I have been a fool; for I have told as much of myself

to this young person as if she were of that ripe and discreet age



which invites confidence and expansive utterance. I have been low-

spirited and listless, lately, - it is coffee, I think, - (I



observe that which is bought READY-GROUND never affects the head,)

- and I notice that I tell my secrets too easily when I am



downhearted.

There are inscriptions on our hearts, which, like that on Dighton



Rock, are never to be seen except at dead-low tide.

There is a woman's footstep on the sand at the side of my deepest



ocean-buried inscription!

- Oh, no, no, no! a thousand times, no! - Yet what is this which



has been shaping itself in my soul? - Is it a thought? - is it a

dream? - is it a PASSION? - Then I know what comes next.



- The Asylum stands on a bright and breezy hill; those glazed

corridors are pleasant to walk in, in bad weather. But there are



iron bars to all the windows. When it is fair, some of us can

stroll outside that very high fence. But I never see much life in



those groups I sometimes meet; - and then the careful man watches

them so closely! How I remember that sad company I used to pass on



fine mornings, when I was a schoolboy! - B., with his arms full of

yellow weeds, - ore from the gold mines which he discovered long



before we heard of California, - Y., born to millions, crazed by

too much plum-cake, (the boys said,) dogged, explosive, - made a



Polyphemus of my weak-eyed schoolmaster, by a vicious flirt with a

stick, - (the multi-millonnaires sent him a trifle, it was said, to



buy another eye with; but boys are jealous of rich folks, and I

don't doubt the good people made him easy for life,) - how I



remember them all!

I recollect, as all do, the story of the Hall of Eblis, in



"Vathek," and how each shape, as it lifted its hand from its

breast, showed its heart, - a burning coal. The real Hall of Eblis



stands on yonder summit. Go there on the next visiting-day, and

ask that figure crouched in the corner, huddled up like those



Indian mummies and skeletons found buried in the sitting posture,

to lift its hand, - look upon its heart, and behold, not fire, but



ashes. - No, I must not think of such an ending! Dying would be a

much more gentlemanly way of meeting the difficulty. Make a will



and leave her a house or two and some stocks, and other little

financial conveniences, to take away her necessity for keeping



school. - I wonder what nice young man's feet would be in my French

slippers before six months were over! Well, what then? If a man



really loves a woman, of course he wouldn't marry her for the

world, if he were not quite sure that he was the best person she



could by any possibility marry.

- It is odd enough to read over what I have just been writing. - It



is the merest fancy that ever was in the world. I shall never be

married. She will; and if she is as pleasant as she has been so



far, I will give her a silver tea-set, and go and take tea with her

and her husband, sometimes. No coffee, I hope, though, - it



depresses me sadly. I feel very miserably; - they must have been

grinding it at home. - Another morning walk will be good for me,



and I don't doubt the schoolmistress will be glad of a little fresh

air before school.



- The throbbing flushes of the poetical intermittent have been

coming over me from time to time of late. Did you ever see that



electrical experiment which consists in passing a flash through

letters of gold-leaf in a darkened room, whereupon some name or



legend springs out of the darkness in characters of fire?




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