My Father, However, Was Of A Very Different Opinion, For When My
Mother, In The Pride Of Her Heart, Showed
Him my copy of verses, he
threw them out of the window, asking her "if she meant to make a
Ballad
monger of the boy." But he was a careless, common-thinking man, and I
cannot say that I ever loved him much; my mother absorbed all my filial
affection.
I used occasionally, during holydays, to be sent on short visits to the
uncle, who was to make me his heir; they thought it would keep me in
his mind, and render him fond of me. He was a withered, anxious-looking
old fellow, and lived in a desolate old country seat, which he suffered
to go to ruin from absolute niggardliness. He kept but one man-servant,
who had lived, or rather starved, with him for years. No woman was
allowed to sleep in the house. A daughter of the old servant lived by
the gate, in what had been a porter's lodge, and was permitted to come
into the house about an hour each day, to make the beds, and cook a
morsel of provisions.
The park that surrounded the house was all run wild; the trees grown
out of shape; the fish-ponds stagnant; the urns and statues fallen from
their pedestals and buried among the rank grass. The hares and
pheasants were so little molested, except by poachers, that they bred
in great abundance, and sported about the rough lawns and weedy
avenues. To guard the premises and frighten off robbers, of whom he was
somewhat apprehensive, and visitors, whom he held in almost equal awe,
my uncle kept two or three blood-hounds, who were always prowling round
the house, and were the dread of the neighboring peasantry. They were
gaunt and half-starved, seemed ready to devour one from mere hunger,
and were an effectual check on any stranger's approach to this wizard
castle.
Such was my uncle's house, which I used to visit now and then during
The holydays. I was, as I have before said, the old man's favorite;
that is to say, he did not hate me so much as he did the rest of the
world. I had been apprised of his character, and cautioned to cultivate
his good-will; but I was too young and careless to be a courtier; and
indeed have never been sufficiently studious of my interests to let
them govern my feelings. However, we seemed to jog on very well
together; and as my visits cost him almost nothing, they did not seem
to be very unwelcome. I brought with me my gun and fishing-rod, and
half supplied the table from the park and the fishponds.
Our meals were solitary and unsocial. My uncle rarely spoke; he pointed
for whatever he wanted, and the servant perfectly understood him.
Indeed, his man John, or Iron John, as he was called in the
neighborhood, was a counterpart of his master.
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