Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
||||
269 His father remarked the restless glances wandering to the widow, and the hand irresolutely extended towards his cap. “Get up, you idle boy!” he exclaimed with assumed heartiness. “Away after them! they are just at the corner, by the stand of hives.” Linton gathered his energies, and left the hearth. The lattice was open, and, as he stepped out, I heard Cathy inquiring of her unsociable attendant, what was that inscription over the door? Hareton stared up, and scratched his head like a true clown. “It’s some damnable writing,” he answered. “I cannot read it.” “Can’t read it?” cried Catherine; “I can read it . . . it’s English . . . But I want to know why it is there.” Linton giggled,--the first appearance of mirth he had exhibited. “He does not know his letters,” he said to his cousin. “Could you believe in the existence of such a colossal dunce?” “Is he all as he should be?” asked Miss Cathy seriously; “or is he simple . . . not right? I’ve questioned him twice now, and each time he looked so stupid I think he does not understand me. I can hardly understand him, I’m sure!” Linton repeated his laugh, and glanced at Hareton tauntingly, who certainly did not seem quite clear of comprehension at that moment. “There’s nothing the matter but laziness, is there, Earnshaw?” he said. “My cousin fancies you are an idiot . . . There you experience the consequence of scorning ‘book-larning’, as you would say . . . Have you noticed, Catherine, his frightful Yorkshire pronunciation?” “Why, where the devil is the use on ’t?” growled Hareton, more ready in answering his daily companion. He was about to enlarge |