A resolution arose full-formed in my brain.
I sat down on the form near the door, and kept very quiet.

Had it not been for the intention I cherished, I am sure I should have cried.
When the dame returned, she resumed her box-iron, in which the heater went rattling about, as, standing on one leg--the other was so much shorter--she moved it to and fro over the garment on the table.

Then she called me to her by name in a would-be pompous manner.

I obeyed, trembling.
"Can you say your letters ?" she asked.
Now, although I could not read, I could repeat the alphabet; how I had learned it I do not know.

I did repeat it.
"How many questions of your catechism can you say ?" she asked next.
Not knowing with certainty what she meant, I was silent.
"No sulking!" said the dame; and opening a drawer in the table, she took out a catechism.