And When The Fit At Last Left Him,
He Got Up, And Ate Such Quantities Of Fat Pork, And Drank So Much
Whiskey-Punch, That You Would Have Imagined He Had Just Arrived
From A Long Journey, And Had Not Tasted Food For A Couple Of Days.
He would not believe that fishing in the cold night-air upon the water
had made him ill, but raved that it was all my fault for having laid
my baby down on his bed while it was shaking with the ague.
Yet, if there were the least tenderness mixed up in his iron nature,
it was the affection he displayed for that young child. Dunbar was
just twenty months old, with bright, dark eyes, dimpled cheeks, and
soft, flowing, golden hair, which fell round his infant face in rich
curls. The merry, confiding little creature formed such a contrast
to his own surly, unyielding temper, that, perhaps, that very
circumstance made the bond of union between them. When in the house,
the little boy was seldom out of his arms, and whatever were
Malcolm's faults, he had none in the eyes of the child, who used to
cling around his neck, and kiss his rough, unshaven cheeks with the
greatest fondness.
"If I could afford it, Moodie," he said one day to my husband,
"I should like to marry. I want some one upon whom I could vent
my affections." And wanting that some one in the form of woman,
he contented himself with venting them upon the child.
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