THE GOLDEN OPPORTUNITY.
'Yes, child, yes; something like that.'
If it had not been my birthday I should not have had courage to interrupt him again. 'But, grandpapa, "do" begins with d, so how is the printer to know whether you mean "do," or "don't?"
My grandfather said 'Pshaw!' turned short round upon my mother, and asked her if she had heard what I said?
My mother admitted that it was a childish observation. 'Childish!' repeated my grandfather, 'childish! she'll never be anything but a child—never; she has no reasoning faculties at all.' When my grandfather was displeased with me, he never scolded me for the fault of the moment, but inveighed against me in the piece, as a draper would say.
'Did you ever talk nonsense at her age—ever play with a penny doll, and sing to a kitten? I should think not.'
'I was of a different disposition,' said my mother, gently.
'Ay,' said the old man, 'that you were. Why, I wouldn't trust this child, as I trusted you, for the world; you were quite a little woman, could pay bills, or take charge of keys; but this child has no discretion—no head-piece. She says things that are wide of the mark. She's—well, my dear, I didn't mean to vex you—she's a nice child enough, but, bless me, she never thinks, and never reasons about any thing.'
He was mistaken. I was thinking and reasoning at that moment. I was thinking how delightful it would
