Читать книгу Life of Octavia Hill as Told in Her Letters онлайн

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Dear Miss Ockey we do miss you so dreadfully. I do so long to see you and hear your voice again. The place is so dull without you, and to me seems like a prison. I have been agoing to say so often—“Miss Ockey repeat some poetry (sic) or talk about birds, or do something.”

Dear Miss Ockey, will you, if you please if it will not be too much trouble, get me a furn (sic); only gather it yourself, or else it will not do. Dear Miss Ockey I have thought so often of what you said on Saturday that two people could hardly work for one year without owing each other something; and I am ashamed and very very sorry to be obliged to come to the conclusion that all you owe me is the recollection of many unhappy days, and the great trouble and anxiety that I have been to you; for you said yourself that, when you were in bed of a night you used to think what could you do to me to alter me; while on my part I owe you that no one on earth can ever repay you. Dear Miss Ockey your Mama as been reading to us out of Howitt’s “Boys’ Country Book,” and teaching us poetry. I hope you are not working, for I am sure Mr. Ruskin would not wish you.