What a digression! Can I never tell my story in a plain, straightforward way? Certainly I was born under Cancer, and all my movements are circumlocutory, sideways, and crab-like.
CHAPTER V.
“I think, Roland,” said my mother, “that the establishment is settled,—Bolt, who is equal to three men at least; Primmins, cook and housekeeper; Molly, a good, stirring girl, and willing (though I’ve had some difficulty in persuading her to submit not to be called Anna Maria). Their wages are but a small item, my dear Roland.”
“Hem!” said Roland; “since we can’t do with fewer servants at less wages, I suppose we must call it small.”
“It is so,” said my mother, with mild positiveness. “And indeed, what with the game and fish, and the garden and poultry-yard, and your own mutton, our housekeeping will be next to nothing.”
“Hem!” again said the thrifty Roland, with a slight inflection of the beetle brows. “It may be next to nothing, ma’am,—sister,—just as a butcher’s shop may be next to Northumberland House; but there is a vast deal between nothing and that next neighbor you have given it.”
This speech was so like one of my father’s—so naive an imitation of that subtle reasoner’s use of the rhetorical figure called Antanaclasis (or repetition of the same words in a different sense)—that I laughed and my mother smiled. But she smiled reverently, not thinking of the Antanaclasis, as, laying her hand on Roland’s arm, she replied in the yet more formidable figure of speech called Epiphonema (or exclamation), “Yet, with all your economy, you would have had us—”
“Tut!” cried my uncle, parrying the Epiphonema with a masterly Aposiopesis (or breaking off); “tut! if you had done what I wished, I should have had more pleasure for my money!”
My poor mother’s rhetorical armory supplied no weapon to meet that artful Aposiopesis; so she dropped the rhetoric altogether, and went on with that “unadorned eloquence” natural to her, as to other great financial reformers: “Well, Roland, but I am a good housewife, I assure you, and—Don’t scold; but that you never do;—I mean, don’t look as if you would like to scold. The fact is, that even after setting aside L100 a year for our little parties—”