, lay a period of twelve years of three hundred and
sixty-five days each, not to mention leap-years.
The boys were sent away to be educated, and when they came home at holiday
time they brought presents for the mother and the girls, and there was
great rejoicing.
James was sent to Oxford. The girls were not sent away to be educated--it
was thought hardly worth while then to educate women, and some folks still
hold to that belief. When the boys came home, they were made to stand by
the door-jamb, and a mark was placed on the casing, with a date, which
showed how much they had grown. And they were catechized as to their
knowledge, and cross-questioned and their books inspected; and so we find
one of the sisters saying, once, that she knew all the things her brothers
knew, and besides that she knew all the things she knew herself.
There was plenty of books in the library, and the girls made use of them.
They would read to their father "because his eyesight was bad," but I can
not help thinking this a clever ruse on the part of the good Rector.
I do not find that there were any secrets in that household or that either
Mr. or Mrs. Austen ever said that children should be seen and not heard.
It was a little republic of letters--all their own. Thrown in on
themselves for not many of the yeomanry thereabouts could read, there was
developed a fine spirit of comradeship among parents and children,
brothers and sisters, servants and visitors, that is a joy to contemplate.
Before the days of railroads, a "visitor" was more of an institution than
he is now. He stayed longer and was more welcome; and the news he brought
from distant parts was eagerly asked for. Nowadays we know all about
everything, almost before it happens, for yellow journalism is so alert
that it discounts futurity.
In the Austen household had lived and died a son of Warren Hastings. The
lad had so won the love of the Austens that they even spoke of him as
their own; and this bond also linked them to the great outside world of
statecraft. The things the elders discussed were the properties, too, of
the children.
Then once a year the Bishop came--came in knee-breeches, hobnailed shoes,
and shovel hat, and the little church was decked with greens. The Bishop
came from Paradise, little Jane used to think, and once, to be polite, she
asked him how all the folks were in Heaven. Then the other children
giggled and the Bishop spilt a whole cup of tea down the
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