child, could expect a wise and good uncle to be satisfied with the carryings on of an infant who that very day had roused the whole house at 5 A.M.; had upset a water jug, and tumbled down stairs after it at 7; had endeavoured to put the cat in the bath at 8; and sat on her own father's hat at 9.35.
What did she do? Was she grateful to me for my plain speaking? Did she ponder upon my words, and determine to profit by them, and to lead, from that hour, a better and a nobler life?
No! she howled.
That done, she became abusive. She said—
"Oo naughty—oo naughty, bad unkie—oo bad man—me tell MAR."
And she did, too.
Since then, when my views have been called for, I have kept my real sentiments more to myself like, preferring to express unbounded admiration of this young person's actions, irrespective of their actual merits. And she nods her head approvingly, and trots off to advertise my opinion to the rest of the household. She appears to employ it as a sort of testimonial for mercenary purposes, for I subsequently hear distant sounds of "Unkie says me dood dirl-me dot to have two bikkies."[1]
There she goes, now, gazing rapturously at her own toes, and murmuring "pittie "—two-foot-ten of
- ↑ Early English for biscuits.
