This habit occasions an almost daily argument between one
or other of the babies and myself.
"April, hold your glass in your right hand."
"But papa doesn't."
"When you are as old as papa you can do as you like."
Which was embellished only yesterday by Minora adding impressively,
"And only think how strange it would look if everybody held their glasses so."
April was greatly struck by the force of this proposition.
January 28th.--It is very cold,--fifteen degrees of frost Reaumur,
but perfectly delicious, still, bright weather, and one feels
jolly and energetic and amiably disposed towards everybody.
The two young ladies are still here, but the air is so buoyant
that even they don't weigh on me any longer, and besides, they have
both announced their approaching departure, so that after all I
shall get my whitewashing done in peace, and the house will have
on its clean pinafore in time to welcome the spring.
Minora has painted my portrait, and is going to present it as a
parting gift to the Man of Wrath; and the fact that I let her do it,
and sat meekly times innumerable, proves conclusively, I hope,
that I am not vain. When Irais first saw it she laughed till she cried,
and at once commissioned her to paint hers, so that she may take it
away with her and give it to her husband on his birthday, which happens
to be early in February.
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