Spring Breeze

Spring Breeze
Sweet Nothings
The Abduction of Psyche
The British Are Coming
She then selected two or three of the little instruments, and a little bottle, and asked (to my surprise) if the table would bear. On Steerforth's replying in the affirmative, she pushed a chair against it, and begging the assistance of my hand, mounted up, pretty nimbly, to the top, as if it were a stage. ¡¡¡¡'If either of you saw my ankles,' she said, when she was safely elevated, 'say so, and I'll go home and destroy myself!' ¡¡¡¡'I did not,' said Steerforth. ¡¡¡¡'I did not,' said I. ¡¡¡¡'Well then,' cried Miss Mowcher,' I'll consent to live. Now, ducky, ducky, ducky, come to Mrs. Bond and be killed.' ¡¡¡¡This was an invocation to Steerforth to place himself under her hands; who, accordingly, sat himself down, with his back to the table, and his laughing face towards me, and submitted his
oil painting head to her inspection, evidently for no other purpose than our entertainment. To see Miss Mowcher standing over him, looking at his rich profusion of brown hair through a large round magnifying glass, which she took out of her pocket, was a most amazing spectacle. ¡¡¡¡'You're a pretty fellow!' said Miss Mowcher, after a brief inspection. 'You'd be as bald as a friar on the top of your head in twelve months, but for me. just half a minute, my young friend, and we'll give you a polishing that shall keep your curls on for the next ten years!'