|
Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
||||
 |
||||
|
Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
||||
|
|
||||
|
“Certainly, I always do,” said the child, as she sprang after her mother into the carriage. St. Clare stood on the steps and kissed his hand to her, as the carriage drove away; large tears were in his eyes. “O Evangeline! rightly named,” he said; “hath not God made thee an evangel to me?” So he felt a moment; and then he smoked a cigar, and read the Picayune, and forgot his little gospel. Was he much unlike other folks? “You see, Evangeline,” said her mother, “it’s always right and proper to be kind to servants, but it isn’t proper to treat them just as we would our relations, or people in our own class of life. Now, if Mammy was sick, you wouldn’t want to put her in your own bed.” “I should feel just like it, mamma,” said Eva, “because then it would be hand- ier to take care of her, and because, you know, my bed is better than hers.” Marie was in utter despair at the entire want of moral perception evinced in this reply. “What can I do to make this child understand me?” she said. “Nothing,” said Miss Ophelia, significantly. |
