Chapter Ten.
Off to the West.
That was really the prime difficulty in our leaving England—to keep Mrs Dean’s ideas of necessaries within bounds. Poor little woman! She could not, try how her son and I would to make her, understand what was the meaning of simple necessaries.
“Now it’s of no use for you to fly in a passion with your poor mother, Esau,” she used to say. “I’ve consented to go with you to this wild savage land, but I must have a few things to make the house comfortable when we get there.”
“But don’t I tell you you can’t take ’em, because they won’t have ’em aboard ship; and you can’t stuff ’em in a waggon and carry ’em millions of miles when you get across.”
“If you wouldn’t be so unreasonable, Esau. There, I appeal to Mr Gordon.”
“So do I,” roared Esau. “Does mother want a great ironing-board?”
“No,” I said; “we can make you hundreds out there.”
“Oh dear me. You’ll say next I mustn’t take my blankets and sheets.”