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- English
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Information
Publisher
The Floating PresseBook ISBN
9781776672110
Year
20161 - Bis Dat Qui Non Cito Dat
*
There was joy in the house of Bubb.
For ten long years had Ephraim and Sophonisba Bubb mourned in vain the
loneliness of their life. Unavailingly had they gazed into the emporia
of baby-linen, and fixed their searching glances on the basket-makers'
warehouses where the cradles hung in tempting rows. In vain had they
prayed, and sighed, and groaned, and wished, and waited, and wept, but
never had even a ray of hope been held out by the family physician.
But now at last the wished-for moment had arrived. Month after month
had flown by on leaden wings, and the destined days had slowly
measured their course. The months had become weeks; the weeks had
dwindled down to days; the days had been attenuated to hours; the
hours had lapsed into minutes, the minutes had slowly died away, and
but seconds remained.
Ephraim Bubb sat cowering on the stairs, and tried with high-strung
ears to catch the strain of blissful music from the lips of his first-born.
There was silence in the house—silence as of the deadly calm
before the cyclone. Ah! Ephraim Bubb, little thinkest thou that
another moment may for ever destroy the peaceful, happy course of thy
life, and open to thy too-craving eyes the portals of that wondrous
land where childhood reigns supreme, and where the tyrant infant with
the wave of his tiny hand and the imperious treble of his tiny voice
sentences his parent o the deadly vault beneath the castle moat. As
the thought strikes thee thou becomest pale. How thou tremblest as
thou findest thyself upon the brink of the abyss! Wouldst that thou
could recall the past!
But hark! the die is cast for good or ill. The long years of praying
and hoping have found an end at last. From the chamber within comes a
sharp cry, which shortly after is repeated. Ah!
Ephraim, that cry is the feeble effort of childish lips as yet unused
to the rough, worldly form of speech to frame the word 'father'. In
the glow of thy transport all doubts are forgotten; and when the
doctor cometh forth as the harbinger of joy he findeth thee radiant
with new-found delight.
'My dear sir, allow me to congratulate you—to offer twofold
felicitations. Mr Bubb, sir, you are the father of twins!'
2 - Halcyon Days
*
The twins were the finest children that ever were seen—so at least said the cognoscenti, and the parents were not slow to believe. The nurse's opinion was in itself a proof.
It was not, ma'am, that they was fine for twins, but they was fine for singles, and she had ought to know, for she had nussed a many in her time, both twins and singles. All they wanted was to have their dear little legs cut off and little wings on their dear little shoulders, for to be put one on each side of a white marble tombstone, cut beautiful, sacred to the relic of Ephraim Bubb, that they might, sir, if so be that missus was to survive the father of two such lovely twins—although she would make bold to say, and no offence intended, that a handsome gentleman, though a trifle or two older than his good lady, though for the matter of that she heerd that gentlemen was never too old at all, and for her own part she liked them the better for it: not ...
Table of contents
- THE DUALITISTS
- Contents
- 1 - Bis Dat Qui Non Cito Dat
- 2 - Halcyon Days
- 3 - Rumours of Wars
- 4 - The Tucket Sounds
- 5 - The First Crusade
- 6 - 'Let the Dead Past Bury its Dead'
- 7 - A Cloud with Golden Lining