"No fond belief can day and night
From light and darkness sever;
And wrong is wrong, and right is right,
For ever and for ever."
Last evening, as we were drawing our chairs up for a chat round the fire
in our chamber, who should walk in but my Aunt Kezia.
"Nay, I'll not hold you long," saith she, as I arose and offered my
seat. "I come but to give a bit of good counsel to my nieces here.
Miss Annas, my dear, it will very like not hurt you too."
"I shall be very glad of it, Mrs Kezia," said Annas.
"Well,"--saith my Aunt, and broke off all at once. "Eh, girls, girls!
Poor unfledged birds, fluttering your wings on the brim of the nest, and
pooh-poohing the old bird behind you, that says, `Take care, my dears,
or you will fall!' She never flew out of the nest, did she?--she never
preened her wings, and thought all the world lay before her, and she
could fly as straight as any lark of them all, and catch as many flies
as any swallow? Ay, nor she never tumbled off into the mire, and found
she could not fly a bit, and all the insects went darting past her as
safe as if she were a dead leaf? Eh, my lassies, this would be a poor
world, if it were all. I have seen something of it, though you thought
not, likely enough. But flowers are flowers, and dirt is dirt, whether
you find them on the banks of the Thames or of Ellen Water. And I have
not dwelt all my life at Brocklebank: though if I had, I should have
seen men and women, and they are much alike all the world over."