. A little queen of hearts; an international story . ou think it easy tobe sole possessor of a piece ofnews that would rejoice the heartsof your nearest and dearest, andyet for extreme precautions sakehave given your promise on noaccount to divulge it, why thenall that can be said is that you ^| were never in Marie-Celestes shoes. If it had been an uncom-fortable piece of news it would have been vastly easier. There ought to be no pleasure at all inconveying bad news to people, though here and there, it must beconfessed, one sometimes meets individuals who seem to rejoice inany news whatsoever
. A little queen of hearts; an international story . ou think it easy tobe sole possessor of a piece ofnews that would rejoice the heartsof your nearest and dearest, andyet for extreme precautions sakehave given your promise on noaccount to divulge it, why thenall that can be said is that you ^| were never in Marie-Celestes shoes. If it had been an uncom-fortable piece of news it would have been vastly easier. There ought to be no pleasure at all inconveying bad news to people, though here and there, it must beconfessed, one sometimes meets individuals who seem to rejoice inany news whatsoever, and the more startling and surprising the Marie-Celeste succeeded in getting through the first few hourswithout telling: the two hours with Harold on the train, a very try-ing half hour when she was all alone with her mother, and anothertrying half hour the next morning, when she was sitting in the break-fast-room with Dorothy; and after that the worst was over, so manydelightful things came along to claim every ones thought and atten-. RATHER A BOOKISH CHAPTER. 187 tion. And one of the most delightful things of all—at least in thechildrens estimation—came with that Sunday afternoon in Oxford,and Dorothy was the one to be thanked for it. It seemed that in one of the colleges somebody lived who Marie-Celeste would have given more to see, next to the Queen (and, asyou know, she had seen her without the asking), than any one else inEngland, and that was the man who calls himself Lewis Carroll, andwho lias written those incomparable books, Through the Looking-Glass and Alice in Wonderland. If it is possible that any littlefriend of these stories of mine has never happened to have read them,then let me urge you at once to give Aunt Bess or Uncle Jack no resttill both are in vour keeping, with your name written very legiblyacross the fly-leaf of each, so that you can keep them for your veryown till youve no more use for any books whatsoever. And whileyou are about it
Size: 1402px × 1783px
Photo credit: © Reading Room 2020 / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., boo, bookauthorogdenruth18531927, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890
