"And there's an Eye-lash in my Eye," continues he; "pray, Mrs. Honeywood, come and take it out."
While my Mother was thus engaged, we chatted among ourselves. "What will you have, Father?" said I. "Shall I make you some Tea?"
"No, I'd rather you put on Supper half an Hour, and let me have Something broiled, and some mulled Wine and Toast."
When I returned from giving Orders, I found my Father established in his Arm-Chair, my Mother returned to her Snipping, Prue and Gatty embroidering different Corners of the same Apron, and Mr. Fenwick ready to resume his Reading. The Poem was soon finished, and when we had talked it over a little, he asked us what he should read next. I said I thought he had better not do too much at first, and Supper would soon be ready. He said, "Oh, he was just getting into the Humour of it, and there was Plenty of Time to read some short Piece before Supper." So then my Mother said she thought a Paper of the Tatler would be just long enough; and mentioned a favourite Number that she had not read for a good While—that charming Piece[1] beginning,—"There are several Persons who have many Pleasures and Entertainments in their Possession which they do not enjoy;" and proceeding to give such a touching Picture of domestic Felicity. Mr. Fenwick read it with such Feeling that we were all delighted with it; and it seemed to me that even my Father, who sat quite silent, with his Back to us, was moved by it, for I noticed his breathing very hard,—his only Way of expressing strong Feeling. "Ah!" thought I to myself, "if Mr. Fenwick were to read to us in this nice Way every Evening, and my Father were to grow fond of it and of him, and get into the Way of coming Home early, instead of sipping Spirits and Water with Don Saltero, how happy we should be!"
"And now," says my Mother, "there's a Sequel to that Paper, which I should very much like to hear, save for the Fear of tiring Mr. Fenwick."
"Oh, I'm not at all tired," said he;
"Pray give it me; for I am already quite in love with this good Man and his Wife."
So my Mother looked him out No. 114, which begins, "I was walking about my Chamber this Morning in a very gay Humour, when I saw a Coach stop at my Door, and a Youth of about fifteen alight out of it,"—and goes on to describe the Death of the Wife and Mother of the Family. We were presently all in Tears; Gatty even sobbing; and Mr. Fenwick seemed irresolute once or twice whether to proceed or stop. However, he went on, and when he came to the Husband fainting, my Attention was divided between him and my Father, who at that Crisis gave not a Sigh but a Snore. He was fast asleep. My Mother, ashamed of him, gave him a little Nudge, and said, "My Dear!" on which he turned on his Side, murmured, "Very like a Whale!" and was off again as sound as a Top. None of us could help laughing a little, and after this, there were no more Tears shed. We supped, and separated for the Night.