Miss Malcolm sang a song with a
title I dare not attempt. There were two lines in it which I am going
to mispronounce; but you are not Scotch, so I don't care for
_you,_ uncle, darling.
"'He had but a saxpence; he break it in twa,
And he gave me the half o't when he gaed awa.'
"They laughed at that; a general giggle went round."
"Well, I must confess, I don't see much to laugh at in that, Lucy."
"It would be odd if you did, uncle, dear; why, it is pathetic."
"Pathetic? Oh, is it?"
"You naughty, cunning uncle, you know it is; it is pathetic, and
almost heroic. Consider, dear: in a world where the very newspapers
show how mercenary we all are, a poor young man is parted from his
love. He has but one coin to go through the world with, and what does
he do with it? Scheme to make the sixpence a crown, and to make the
crown a pound? No; he breaks this one treasure in two, that both the
poor things may have a silver token of love and a pledge of his
return. I am sure, if the poet had been here, he would have been quite
angry with us for laughing at that line."
"Keep your temper. Why, this is new from you, Lucy; but you women of
sugar can all cauterize your own sex; the theme inspires you."
"Uncle, how dare you! Are you not afraid I shall be angry one of these
days, dear!!? The gentlemen were equally concerned in this last
enormity. Poor Jemmy, or Jammy, with his devotion and tenderness that
soothed, and his high spirit that supported the weaker vessel, was as
funny to our male as to our female guests--so there.
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