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MacDonald, George, 1824-1905

"Robert Falconer"

Then Robert took from his pocket the gold
thimble, and said,
'This thimmel was my mamma's. Will ye tak it, mem, for ye ken it's
o' nae use to me.'
Miss St. John hesitated for a moment.
'I will keep it for you, if you like,' she said, for she could not
bear to refuse it.
'Na, mem; I want ye to keep it to yersel'; for I'm sure my mamma wad
hae likit you to hae 't better nor ony ither body.'
'Well, I will use it sometimes for your sake. But mind, I will not
take it from you; I will only keep it for you.'
'Weel, weel, mem; gin ye'll keep it till I speir for 't, that'll du
weel eneuch,' answered Robert, with a smile.
He laboured diligently; and his progress corresponded to his labour.
It was more than intellect that guided him: Falconer had genius for
whatever he cared for.
Meantime the love he bore his teacher, and the influence of her
beauty, began to mould him, in his kind and degree, after her
likeness, so that he grew nice in his person and dress, and smoothed
the roughness and moderated the broadness of his speech with the
amenities of the English which she made so sweet upon her tongue.
He became still more obedient to his grandmother, and more diligent
at school; gathered to himself golden opinions without knowing it,
and was gradually developing into a rustic gentleman.
Nor did the piano absorb all his faculties. Every divine influence
tends to the rounded perfection of the whole. His love of Nature
grew more rapidly.


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