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Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870

"Barnaby Rudge: a tale of the Riots of 'eighty"

Therefore, until within the last four
years or so--I have a poor memory for dates, and if I mistake, you will
correct me in your own mind--you pursued your studies at a distance, and
picked up a great variety of accomplishments. Occasionally we passed a
week or two together here, and disconcerted each other as only such near
relations can. At last you came home. I candidly tell you, my dear boy,
that if you had been awkward and overgrown, I should have exported you
to some distant part of the world.'
'I wish with all my soul you had, sir,' said Edward.
'No you don't, Ned,' said his father coolly; 'you are mistaken, I assure
you. I found you a handsome, prepossessing, elegant fellow, and I threw
you into the society I can still command. Having done that, my dear
fellow, I consider that I have provided for you in life, and rely upon
your doing something to provide for me in return.'
'I do not understand your meaning, sir.'
'My meaning, Ned, is obvious--I observe another fly in the cream-jug,
but have the goodness not to take it out as you did the first, for
their walk when their legs are milky, is extremely ungraceful and
disagreeable--my meaning is, that you must do as I did; that you must
marry well and make the most of yourself.


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