Meet us on:
Entire Site
    Try our fun game

    Dueling book covers…may the best design win!

    Random Quote
    "I respect faith, but doubt is what gets you an education."

    Subscribe to Our Newsletter

    Follow us on Twitter

    Never miss a good book again! Follow Read Print on Twitter

    Chapter 2

    • Rate it:
    • Average Rating: 4.8 out of 5 based on 9 ratings
    • 8 Favorites on Read Print
    Launch Reading Mode Next Chapter
    Chapter 2
    Previous Chapter

    My dear Brother-in-Law, - Please let me write again in Spanish, I
    cannot trust my English, and I am aware, from what your brother
    used to say, that army officers educated at the Military Academy of
    the United States are taught our tongue. It is as I told you in my
    other letter: both my poor sister and her husband, when they found
    they could not recover, expressed the wish that you should have
    their little Catherine - as knowing that you would presently be
    retired from the army - rather than that she should remain with me,
    who am broken in health, or go to your mother in California, whose
    health is also frail.

    You do not know the child, therefore I must tell you something
    about her. You will not be ashamed of her looks, for she is a copy
    in little of her beautiful mother - and it is that Andalusian
    beauty which is not surpassable, even in your country. She has her
    mother's charm and grace and good heart and sense of justice, and
    she has her father's vivacity and cheerfulness and pluck and spirit
    of enterprise, with the affectionate disposition and sincerity of
    both parents.

    My sister pined for her Spanish home all these years of exile; she
    was always talking of Spain to the child, and tending and
    nourishing the love of Spain in the little thing's heart as a
    precious flower; and she died happy in the knowledge that the
    fruitage of her patriotic labors was as rich as even she could

    Cathy is a sufficiently good little scholar, for her nine years;
    her mother taught her Spanish herself, and kept it always fresh
    upon her ear and her tongue by hardly ever speaking with her in any
    other tongue; her father was her English teacher, and talked with
    her in that language almost exclusively; French has been her
    everyday speech for more than seven years among her playmates here;
    she has a good working use of governess - German and Italian. It
    is true that there is always a faint foreign fragrance about her
    speech, no matter what language she is talking, but it is only just
    noticeable, nothing more, and is rather a charm than a mar, I
    think. In the ordinary child-studies Cathy is neither before nor
    behind the average child of nine, I should say. But I can say this
    for her: in love for her friends and in high-mindedness and good-
    heartedness she has not many equals, and in my opinion no
    superiors. And I beg of you, let her have her way with the dumb
    animals - they are her worship. It is an inheritance from her
    mother. She knows but little of cruelties and oppressions - keep
    them from her sight if you can. She would flare up at them and
    make trouble, in her small but quite decided and resolute way; for
    she has a character of her own, and lacks neither promptness nor
    initiative. Sometimes her judgment is at fault, but I think her
    intentions are always right. Once when she was a little creature
    of three or four years she suddenly brought her tiny foot down upon
    the floor in an apparent outbreak of indignation, then fetched it a
    backward wipe, and stooped down to examine the result. Her mother

    "Why, what is it, child? What has stirred you so?"

    "Mamma, the big ant was trying to kill the little one."

    "And so you protected the little one."

    "Yes, manure, because he had no friend, and I wouldn't let the big
    one kill him."

    "But you have killed them both."

    Cathy was distressed, and her lip trembled. She picked up the
    remains and laid them upon her palm, and said:

    "Poor little anty, I'm so sorry; and I didn't mean to kill you, but
    there wasn't any other way to save you, it was such a hurry."

    She is a dear and sweet little lady, and when she goes it will give
    me a sore heart. But she will be happy with you, and if your heart
    is old and tired, give it into her keeping; she will make it young
    again, she will refresh it, she will make it sing. Be good to her,
    for all our sakes!

    My exile will soon be over now. As soon as I am a little stronger
    I shall see my Spain again; and that will make me young again!

    Next Chapter
    Chapter 2
    Previous Chapter
    If you're writing a Mark Twain essay and need some advice, post your Mark Twain essay question on our Facebook page where fellow bookworms are always glad to help!

    Top 5 Authors

    Top 5 Books

    Book Status
    Want to read

    Are you sure you want to leave this group?