[150]
—That she is not a woman of science, my father would say,—is her misfortune—but she might ask a question.—
My mother never did.—In short, she went out of the world at least without knowing whether it turned round, or stood still.—My father had officiously told her above a thousand times which way it was,—but she always forgot.
For these reasons a discourse seldom went on much further betwixt them, than a proposition,—a reply, and a rejoinder; at the end of which, it generally took breath for a few minutes, (as in the affair of the breeches) and then went on again.
If he marries, 'twill be the worse for us,—quoth my mother.
Not
