It was reserved for Miss Twinkleton to tone down the public mind of
the Nuns' House. That lady, therefore, entering in a stately
manner what plebeians might have called the school-room, but what,
in the patrician language of the head of the Nuns' House, was
euphuistically, not to say round-aboutedly, denominated 'the
apartment allotted to study,' and saying with a forensic air,
'Ladies!' all rose. Mrs. Tisher at the same time grouped herself
behind her chief, as representing Queen Elizabeth's first
historical female friend at Tilbury fort. Miss Twinkleton then
proceeded to remark that Rumour, Ladies, had been represented by
the bard of Avon - needless were it to mention the immortal
SHAKESPEARE, also called the Swan of his native river, not
improbably with some reference to the ancient superstition that
that bird of graceful plumage (Miss Jennings will please stand
upright) sang sweetly on the approach of death, for which we have
no ornithological authority, - Rumour, Ladies, had been represented
by that bard - hem! -
'who drew
The celebrated Jew,'
as painted full of tongues. Rumour in Cloisterham (Miss Ferdinand
will honour me with her attention) was no exception to the great
limner's portrait of Rumour elsewhere. A slight FRACAS between two
young gentlemen occurring last night within a hundred miles of
these peaceful walls (Miss Ferdinand, being apparently
incorrigible, will have the kindness to write out this evening, in
the original language, the first four fables of our vivacious
neighbour, Monsieur La Fontaine) had been very grossly exaggerated
by Rumour's voice.
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