[Gascoyne, The Sandal Wood Trader by R. M. Ballantyne]@TWC D-Link book
Gascoyne, The Sandal Wood Trader

CHAPTER V
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That word, if used in an ill-natured and passionate manner, is a bad one, and by no means to be countenanced; but, as surgeons may cut off legs at times, without thereby sanctioning the indiscriminate practise of amputation in a miscellaneous sort of way as a pastime, so this otherwise objectionable word may, we think, be used to bring out a certain trait of character in full force.

Holding this opinion, and begging the reader to observe that we make the statement gravely and in an entirely philosophical, way, we repeat that Poopy was, figuratively speaking, a donkey! Yet she was an amiable, affectionate, good girl for all that, with an amount of love in her heart for her young mistress which words cannot convey, and which it is no wonder, therefore, that Poopy herself could not adequately express either by word or look.
"It's all very well for you to sit there and say 'Hee! hee!'" cried Alice, advancing to the fireplace; "but you must have made a dreadful mark on your clean white frock.

Get up and turn round." "Hee! hee!" exclaimed the girl, as she obeyed the mandate.
The "Oh! oh!! oh!!!" that burst from Alice, on observing the pattern of the pot neatly printed off on Poopy's garment, was so emphatic that the girl became impressed with the fact that she had done something wrong, and twisted her head and neck in a most alarming manner in a series of vain attempts to behold the extent of the damage.
"_What_ a figure!" exclaimed Alice, on recovering from the first shock.
"It vill vash," said Poopy, in a deprecatory tone.
"I hope it will," replied Alice, shaking her head doubtfully; for her experience in the laundry had not yet been so extensive as to enable her to pronounce at once on the eradicability of such a frightfully deep impression.

While she was still shaking her head in dubiety on this point, and while Poopy was still making futile attempts to obtain a view of the spot, the door of the kitchen opened, and Master Corrie swaggered in, with his hands thrust into the outer pockets of his jacket, his shirt collar thrown very much open, and his round straw hat placed very much on the back of his head; for, having seen some of the crew of the Talisman, he had been smitten with a strong desire to imitate a man-of-war's-man in aspect and gait.
At his heels came that scampering mass of ragged door-mat Toozle, who, feeling that a sensation of some kind or other was being got up for his amusement, joined heartily in the shout of delight that burst from the youthful Corrie when he beheld the extraordinary figure in the fireplace.
"Well, I say, Kickup," cried the youth, picking up his hat, which had fallen off in the convulsion, and drying his tears, "you're a sweet-lookin' creetur, you are! Is this a new frock you've got to go to church with?
Come, I rather like that pattern; but there's not quite enough of 'em.

Suppose I lend a hand and print a few more all over you?
There's plenty of pots and pans here to do it; and if Alice will bring down her white frock I'll give it a touch-up too." "How can you talk such nonsense, Corrie!" said Alice, laughing.


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