There wis no possibility ay taking a walk thit day. It were pissin wi rain thit further outdoor bummin aroond wis now oot ay the fuckin question.
Ah wis glad ay it: Ah nivir liked long walks, especially in the fuckin cold: dreadful tae me wis the coming home in the raw twilight, wi frozen fuckin fingers n toes, n pissed oaf by the chidings ay Bessie, the cunt nurse, n humbled by the consciousness ay ma physical inferiority tae Eliza, John, n Georgiana Reed, the radges.
The said Eliza, John, n Georgiana wir now clustered round their ma in the drawing-room: the cunt lay reclined oan a soafa by the fireside, n wi her darlings aboot her (fir the time neither fightin or crying) looked perfectly happy like. Me, the cunt had dispensed fi joining the group; sayin, ‘The cunt regretted tae be under the necessity ay keeping me at a distance; but thit until she heard fi Bessie, n could discover by her own observation, thit ah wis tryin hard tae get a more sociable n bernlike act like, a more attractive n sprightly manner like – somethin lighter, franker, more natural, like- the cunt really must exclude me fi privileges intended only fir contented, happy, little kids.’
‘What does Bessie say ah huv done?’ Ah asked.
‘Jane, ah dinnae like cavillers or questioners; besides, there is something truly fucked in a bern taking up her elders in thit manner. Be seated somewhair; n until ya ken speak pleasantly, remain silent.’
A small breakfast-room joined oanta the drawing-room, ah slipped in there. It contained a bookcase: Ah sooan goat maself ay a volume, taking cur thit it should be one stored wi pictures likesey. Ah mounted intae the window-seat: gathering up ma feet, ah sat cross-legged, like a Turk; and, having drawn the curtin nearly close, ah wis hidden likesey.
Folds ay scarlet drapery shut in ma view tae the right hand; tae the left wir the clear panes ay glass, protecting, but no separating me fi the shite November day. Sometimes, while turning over the leaves ay ma book, ah looked at the winter afternoon. Afar, it oaffered a pale blank ay mist n cloud; near a scene ay wet lawn n storm-beat shrub, wi ceaseless rain pissin away wildly befir a long blast.
Ah returned tae ma book- Bewick’s History ay British Birds: the letterpress thereay ah cared little fir. Each picture telt a story; masterious oaften tae ma undeveloped understanding n imperfect feelings, yet ivir profoundly interesting: as interesting as the tales Bessie sometimes narrated oan winter evenings, when the cunt chanced tae be in good mood; n when, having brought her ironing-table tae the nursery hearth, the cunt allowed us tae sit aboot it, n while the cunt goat up Reed’s lace frills, n crimped her nightcap borders, fed our eager attentioan wi passages ay love n adventure taken fi old fairy tales n other ballads; or (as at a later period ah discovered) fi the pages ay Pamela, n Henry, Earl ay Moreland.
Wi Bewick oan ma knee, ah wis then happy: happy at least in ma wey. Ah feared nowt but interruption, n thit came too soon. The breakfast-room door opened.
‘Boh! Madam Mope!’ cried the voice ay John Reed; then he paused: the cunt found the room apparently empty.
‘Whair the dickens is she!’ he continued. ‘Lizzy! Georgy! (calling tae his sisters) Joan is no here: tell mama the cunt is run oot intae the rain- bad animal!’
‘It is well ah drew the curtain,’ thought I; n ah wished fervently he might no discover ma hiding-place: nor would the cunt huv found it oot himself; he wis no ah smart cunt, but Eliza jist put her heid in at the door, n said at once-
‘The cunt is in the window-seat, tae be sure, Jack.’
N ah came oot immediately, fir ah trembled at the idea ay being dragged fir th by the fuck.
‘Wha do ya want?’ Ah asked.
‘Say, “What do you want, Master Reed?”‘ wis the answer. ‘Ah want ya tae come here;’ n seating himself in an armchair, he gestured thit ah wis tae approach n stand before the radge.
John Reed wis a schoolboy ay fourteen years old; four years older than ah, fir ah wis but ten: fuckin fat fir his age, wi a dingy skin; thick lineaments in a spacious visage, heavy limbs n large extremities. He gorged himself habitually at table, which made him sick, n gave him a dim n bleared eye n flabby fuckin cheeks. The cunt ought now tae huv been at school; but his mam had taken him home fir a month or two, ‘on account of his delicate health.’ Mr. Miles, the master, affirmed thit he would do very well if he had fewer cakes n sweets sent him fi home; but the ma’s heart turned fi an opinion so harsh, n inclined rather tae the idea thit John’s sallowness wis owing tae workin too hard, perhaps, tae pining after home.
John had no much affectioan fir his mother n sisters, n an enemy tae me. He bullied n punished me; no two or three times in the week, nor once or twice in the day, but continually: iviry nerve ah had feared the radge, n iviry morsel ay flesh in ma bones shrank when he came near. There wir moments when ah wis bewildered by the terror he inspired, because ah had no appeal whatever against either his attacks; the servants did no like tae oaffend their young master by taking ma part against him, n Mrs. Reed wis blind n deaf oan the subject: the cunt nivir saw him strike or heard him abuse me, though he did both now n then in her very presence, more frequently, however, behind her back.
Habitually obedient tae John, ah came up tae his chair: he spent three minutes in thrusting oot his tongue at me as far as he could withoot damaging the roots: Ah knew he would sooan strike, n while dreading the blow, ah mused oan the disgusting n ugly appearance ay him who would presently deal it. Ah wonder if he read thit notioan in ma face; fir , aw at once, withoot speaking, he struck suddenly n strongly. Ah tottered, n oan regaining ma equilibrium retired back a step or two fi his chair.
‘Thit is fir yar impudence in answering mama awhile since,’ said he, ‘n fir yar sneaking wey ay gitting behind curtains, n fir the look ya had in yar eyes two minutes since, ya rat!’
Accustomed tae John Reed’s abuse, Ah nivir had an idea ay replying tae it; ma cur wis how tae endure the blow which would certainly follow the insult.
‘What wir ya doing behind the curtain?’ he asked.
‘Ah wis reading.’
‘Show the book.’
Ah returned tae the window n fetched it thence.
‘Ya huv no business tae take our books; ya ur a dependant, mama sais; ya huv no money; yar father left ya none; ya ought tae beg, n no tae live here wi gentlemen’s bernren like us, n eat the same meals we do, n wear clothes at our mama’s expense. Now, I’ll teach ya tae rummage ma bookshelves: fir they ur mine; aw the house belongs tae me, or will do in a few years. Go n stn by the door, oot ay the wey ay the mirror n the windows.’
Ah did so, no at first awur what wis his intention; but when Ah saw him lift n poise the book n stn in act tae hurl it, Ah instinctively started aside wi a cry ay alarm: no sooan enough, however; the volume wis flung, it hit me, n Ah fell, striking ma heid against the door n cutting it. The cut bled, the pain wis sharp: ma terror had passed its climax; other feelings succeeded.
‘Wicked n cruel boy!’ Ah said. ‘Ya ur like a murderer- ya ur like a slave-driver- ya ur like the Roman emperors!’
Ah had read Goldsmith’s History ay Rome, n had fir med ma opinioan ay Nero, Caligula, etc. Also Ah had drawn parallels in silence, which Ah nivir thought thus tae huv declared aloud.
‘What! what!’ he cried. ‘Did the cunt say thit tae me? Did ya hear her, Eliza n Georgiana? Won’t Ah tell mama? but first-‘
He ran heidlong at me: Ah felt him grasp ma hair n ma shoulder: he had closed wi a desperate thing. Ah really saw in him a tyrant, a murderer. Ah felt a drop or two ay blood fi ma heid trickle down ma neck, n wis sensible ay somewhat pungent suffering: these sensations fir the time predominated over fear, n Ah received him in frantic sort. Ah dinnae very well ken what Ah did wi ma hands, but he called me ‘Rat! Rat!’ n bellowed oot aloud. Aid wis near him: Eliza n Georgiana had run fir Mrs. Reed, who wis gone upstairs: the cunt now came upoan the scene, followed by Bessie n her maid Abbot. We wir parted: Ah heard the words-
‘Dear! dear! What a fury tae fly at Master John!’
‘Did ivir anybody see such a picture ay passion!’
Then Mrs. Reed subjoined-
‘Take her away tae the red-room, n lock her in there.’ Four hands wir immediately laid upoan me, n Ah wis borne upstairs.