My lady always had a regular
distribution of good sound port and sherry among the infirm poor; and
Miss Rachel wishes the custom to be kept up. Times have changed! times
have changed! I remember when Mr. Candy himself brought the list to my
mistress. Now it's Mr. Candy's assistant who brings the list to me.
I'll go on with the letter, if you will allow me, sir," said Betteredge,
drawing Rosanna Spearman's confession back to him. "It isn't lively
reading, I grant you. But, there! it keeps me from getting sour with
thinking of the past." He put on his spectacles, and wagged his head
gloomily. "There's a bottom of good sense, Mr. Franklin, in our conduct
to our mothers, when they first start us on the journey of life. We are
all of us more or less unwilling to be brought into the world. And we
are all of us right."
Mr. Candy's assistant had produced too strong an impression on me to
be immediately dismissed from my thoughts. I passed over the last
unanswerable utterance of the Betteredge philosophy; and returned to the
subject of the man with the piebald hair.
"What is his name?" I asked.
"As ugly a name as need be," Betteredge answered gruffly.
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