My mother cried: but she helped to pack my things.

If she disobeys me I act my father, and tower over her, and frown, and make her mild.

She was such a poor good slave to me that day! but I trusted her no farther than the door.

There I kissed her, full of love, and reached the railway.

They asked me where I was going, and named places to me: I did not know one.