[Emma by Jane Austine]@TWC D-Link book
Emma

CHAPTERIX
2/27

Miss Nash, head-teacher at Mrs.Goddard's, had written out at least three hundred; and Harriet, who had taken the first hint of it from her, hoped, with Miss Woodhouse's help, to get a great many more.
Emma assisted with her invention, memory and taste; and as Harriet wrote a very pretty hand, it was likely to be an arrangement of the first order, in form as well as quantity.
Mr.Woodhouse was almost as much interested in the business as the girls, and tried very often to recollect something worth their putting in.

"So many clever riddles as there used to be when he was young--he wondered he could not remember them! but he hoped he should in time." And it always ended in "Kitty, a fair but frozen maid." His good friend Perry, too, whom he had spoken to on the subject, did not at present recollect any thing of the riddle kind; but he had desired Perry to be upon the watch, and as he went about so much, something, he thought, might come from that quarter.
It was by no means his daughter's wish that the intellects of Highbury in general should be put under requisition.

Mr.Elton was the only one whose assistance she asked.

He was invited to contribute any really good enigmas, charades, or conundrums that he might recollect; and she had the pleasure of seeing him most intently at work with his recollections; and at the same time, as she could perceive, most earnestly careful that nothing ungallant, nothing that did not breathe a compliment to the sex should pass his lips.

They owed to him their two or three politest puzzles; and the joy and exultation with which at last he recalled, and rather sentimentally recited, that well-known charade, My first doth affliction denote, Which my second is destin'd to feel And my whole is the best antidote That affliction to soften and heal .-- made her quite sorry to acknowledge that they had transcribed it some pages ago already.
"Why will not you write one yourself for us, Mr.Elton ?" said she; "that is the only security for its freshness; and nothing could be easier to you." "Oh no! he had never written, hardly ever, any thing of the kind in his life.


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