“Of course I do, my dear,” said Aunt Hannah. “That’s what I say.”
“No, no, aunt, I mean made by a regular manufacturer, with tight lids. That was only a home-made one for an experiment.”
“Yes, I know it was, my dear; and I recollect what a rage Martha was in with the thing. I believe that if I had insisted upon her going on using that thing, she would have left.”
“I wish you wouldn’t keep on calling it a thing, aunt,” said Vane, in an ill-used tone; “it was a patent churn.”
“Never mind, boy,” said the doctor, “yours is the fate of all inventors. People want a deal of persuading to use new contrivances; they always prefer to stick to the old ones.”
“Well, my dear, and very reasonably, too,” said Aunt Hannah. “You know I like to encourage Vane, but I cannot help thinking sometimes that he is too fond of useless schemes.”
“Not useless, aunt.”
“Well, then, schemes; and that it would be better if he kept more to his Latin and Greek and mathematics with Mr Syme, and joining the other pupils in their sports.”
“Oh, he works hard enough at his studies,” said the doctor.
“I’m very glad to hear you say so, my dear,” said Aunt Hannah; “and as to the rather unkind remark you made about the churn—”