The summer days are streaming like pinwheels from my fingers, but I am reading Dombey and Son on my lunch break.
Man, Dombey the Elder is one callous dude, and Dickens can still write his way out of a paper bag. Here's a snippet from Dombey the Younger's school days:
'Now Dombey,' said Miss Blimber. 'How have you got on with those books?'
They comprised a little English, and a deal of Latin - names of things, declensions of articles and substantives, exercises thereon, and preliminary rules - a trifle of orthography, a glance at ancient history, a wink or two at modern ditto, a few tables, two or three weights and measures, and a little general information. When poor Paul had spelt out number two, he found he had no idea of number one; fragments whereof afterwards obtruded themselves into number three, which slided into number four, which grafted itself on to number two. So that whether twenty Romuluses made a Remus, or hic haec hoc was troy weight, or a verb always agreed with an ancient Briton, or three times four was Taurus a bull, were open questions with him.
---From: Dombey and Son, Charles Dickens
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Hey, Archer---I closed my hiya email account before I remembered that I had your email there---give me a post at the new one (lindatakethispartoutzinnen@g(eeee)mail.COM)
---much love,
Flory
