But she
lifted the nearest two, Barret's "Maga," and "The Veiled Prophet," and
rather dismally asked which it was to be?
"Neither of them, Charlotte. The 'Maga' makes me think, and I know you
detest poetry. I got a letter to-night from Agnes Bulteel, and it
appears to be about Professor Sedgwick. I was so annoyed at Harry I
could not feel any interest in it then; but, if you don't object, I
should like to hear you read it now."
"Object? No, indeed. I think a great deal of the old professor. What gay
times father and I have had on the Screes with him, and his hammer and
leather bags! And, as Agnes writes a large, round hand, and does not
fresco her letters, I can read about the professor easily."
RESPECTED MISS SANDAL,--I have such a thing to tell you
about Professor Sedgwick and our Joe; hoping that the squire or
Miss Charlotte may see him, and let him know that Joe meant no harm
at all. One hot forenoon lately, when we were through at home, an
old gentlemanly make of a fellow came into our fold, and said,
quite natural, that he wanted somebody to go with him on to the
fells. We all stopped, and took a good look at him before anybody
spoke; but at last father said, middling sharp-like,--he always
speaks that way, does father, when we're busy,--
"We've something else to do here than go raking over the fells on a
fine day like this with nobody knows who.
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