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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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30 better, Mr. Brocklehurst.’ ‘Sorry indeed to hear it! she and I must have some talk;’ and bending from the perpendicular, he installed his person in the arm-chair opposite Mrs. Reed’s. ‘Come here,’ he said. I stepped across the rug; he placed me square and straight before him. What a face he had, now that it was almost on a level with mine! what a great nose! and what a mouth! and what large prominent teeth! ‘No sight so sad as that of a naughty child,’ he began, ‘especially a naughty little girl. Do you know where the wicked go after death?’ ‘They go to hell,’ was my ready and orthodox answer. ‘And what is hell? Can you tell me that?’ ‘A pit full of fire.’ ‘And should you like to fall into that pit, and to be burning there for ever?’ ‘No, sir.’ ‘What must you do to avoid it?’ I deliberated a moment; my answer, when it did come, was objectionable: ‘I must keep in good health, and not die.’ ‘How can you keep in good health? Children younger than you die daily. I buried a little child of five years old only a day or two since,- a good little child, whose soul is now in heaven. It is to be feared the same could not be said of you were you to be called hence.’ Not being in a condition to remove his doubt, I only cast my eyes down on the two large feet planted on the rug, and sighed, wishing myself far enough away. ‘I hope that sigh is from the heart, and that you repent of ever having been the occasion of discomfort to your excellent benefactress.’ ‘Benefactress! benefactress!’ said I inwardly: ‘they all call Mrs. Reed my benefactress; if so, a benefactress is a disagreeable thing.’ ‘Do you say your prayers night and morning?’ continued my interrogator. ‘Yes, sir.’ ‘Do you read your Bible?’ ‘Sometimes.’ ‘With pleasure? Are you fond of it?’ ‘I like Revelations, and the book of Daniel, and Genesis and Samuel, and a little bit of Exodus, and some parts of Kings and Chronicles, and Job and Jonah.’ ‘And the Psalms? I hope you like them?’ ‘No, sir.’ ‘No? oh, shocking! I have a little boy, younger than you, who knows six Psalms by heart: and when you ask him which he would rather have, a gingerbread-nut to eat or a verse of a Psalm to learn, he says: “Oh! the verse of a Psalm! angels sing Psalms;” says he, “I wish to be a little angel here below;” he then gets two nuts in recompense for his infant piety.’ ‘Psalms are not interesting,’ I remarked. ‘That proves you have a wicked heart; and you must pray to God to change it: to give you a new and clean one: to take away your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.’ I was about to propound a question, touching the manner in which that operation of changing my heart was to be performed, when Mrs. Reed |
