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a worthy object of pride; and I’m bitterly disappointed with the
whey-faced whining wretch!”
While he was speaking, Joseph returned, bearing a basin of
milk-porridge, and placed it before Linton. He stirred round the
homely mess with a look of aversion, and affirmed he could not eat
I saw the old manservant shared largely in his master’s scorn of
the child, though he was compelled to retain the sentiment in his
heart, because Heathcliff plainly meant his underlings to hold him
“Cannot ate it?” repeated he, peering in Linton’s face, and
subduing his voice to a whisper, for fear of being overhead. “But
Maister Hareton nivir ate nowt else, when he wer a little un; und
what wer gooid eneugh fur him’s gooid eneugh fur yah, Aw’s
“I shan’t eat it!” answered Linton snappishly. “Take it away.”
Joseph snatched up the food indignantly, and brought it to us.
“Is there owt ails th’ victuals?” he asked, thrusting the tray
under Heathcliff’s nose.
“What should ail them?” he said.
“Wah!” answered Joseph, “yon dainty chap says he cannut ate
’em. Bud Aw guess it’s raight! His mother wer just soa--we wer
a’most too mucky tuh sow t’ corn fur makking her breead.”
“Don’t mention his mother to me,” said the master angrily. “Get
him something that he can eat, that’s all. What is his usual food,
I suggested boiled milk or tea; and the housekeeper received
instructions to prepare some.
Come, I reflected, his father’s selfishness may contribute to his