“I hesitated most abominably, not knowing how to tell him a long story, and growing terribly confused at these questions—besides, to say the truth, his own “what? what?” so reminded me of those vile Probationary Odes,[[67]] that, in the midst of all my flutter, I was really hardly able to keep my countenance.
“The What! was then repeated with so earnest a look, that, forced to say something, I stammeringly answered:
“‘I thought—sir—it would look very well in print!’
“I do really flatter myself this is the silliest speech I ever made! I am quite provoked with myself for it; but a fear of laughing made me eager to utter anything, and by no means conscious, till I had spoken, of what I was saying.
“He laughed very heartily himself—well he might—and walked away to enjoy it, crying out:
“‘Very fair indeed! that’s being very fair and honest!’
“Then, returning to me again, he said:
“‘But your father—how came you not to show him what you wrote?’
“‘I was too much ashamed of it, sir, seriously.’
“Literal truth that, I am sure.