[54] "Black soup" or black dose, désagrément.
"Well, my lad, you have done for yourself now," he exclaimed; "you knocked out the brains of Mrs. Debora's pet cat last night."
"Phu! this is a bad job indeed! Is there actually no life in him?"
"All gone, ab intestato," said my father, holding up the great fat animal, with its four legs hanging down, and its white teeth grinning at me.
I shook my head in despair. If Mistress Debora ever finds this out, there is an end to all hope, and I shall never be able to marry. Alas! why did I allow the cats to put me out of temper? A thought suddenly struck me, and, dressing hastily, I laid the deceased neatly, out in my handkerchief, and, tying up the four corners, started for Mistress Debora's.
At the gate, I found the nine dogs disputing with a Jew, in whose cloak they had made sundry air-holes, while the unfortunate man roared and struggled, to the infinite amusement of the servants.
This was so far propitious for me, as otherwise they might have required my passport also, and it would have been no jesting matter to have struck my uncle's dogs; but happily I got through the kitchen without observation, and looking once more at the four corners, to see that all was right, I knocked humbly at Mistress Debora's door.
"Who is there?" said a voice like the sound of broken crockery.
I opened the door. At the memorable window sat Mistress Debora, who turned round and squinted at me from beneath her spectacles. Her hair—or more probably some other person's—was twisted up behind with a giraffe comb, and the face, which was the colour of brown leather, had more wrinkles than could well find room.
At the other window sat my little ruby at her work. There was not much to be seen from her window, poor child! for a large vetch-stack was piled up before it. As I entered, she blushed to the very shoulders, or at least I fancied so; but her eyes were cast down, and she never ventured to raise them.