human
Soothing! said she in a long-drawn indescribable tone.
gpt
Lettice, prithee tell me what year we be now in?
human
In the year of our Lord 1603, Aunt,
gpt
Nay, answered she,
human
and Aunt Temperance drew out the word in a long cry, for all the world like a whining baby.
gpt
Lad, if you desire not the finest thrashing ever you had yet, cast down that drivelling folly of a silver toy, and turn up your sleeves and go to work like a man! When you lie abed ill of the smallpox you may say you want soothing, and no sooner: and if I hear such another word out of your mouth, I'll leather you while I can stand over you.
human
Madam, said she,
gpt
--and Aunt Temperance held forth the silver pipe,--
human
Why, Aubrey, what hast thou done, my boy, so to vex thine aunt?
gpt
My darling! my poor little boy!