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Irving, Washington, 1783-1859

"Tales of a Traveller"

He lived far within his income, was vulgar in his expenses, and
penurious on many points on which a gentleman would be extravagant. His
house servants were obliged occasionally to work on the estate, and
part of the pleasure grounds were ploughed up and devoted to husbandry.
His table, though plentiful, was coarse; his liquors strong and bad;
and more ale and whiskey were expended in his establishment than
generous wine. He was loud and arrogant at his own table, and exacted a
rich man's homage from his vulgar and obsequious guests.
As to Iron John, his old grandfather, he had grown impatient of the
tight hand his own grandson kept over him, and quarrelled with him soon
after he came to the estate. The old man had retired to a neighboring
village where he lived on the legacy of his late master, in a small
cottage, and was as seldom seen out of it as a rat out of his hole in
daylight.
The cub, like Caliban, seemed to have an instinctive attachment to his
mother. She resided with him; but, from long habit, she acted more as
servant than as mistress of the mansion; for she toiled in all the
domestic drudgery, and was oftener in the kitchen than the parlor. Such
was the information which I collected of my rival cousin, who had so
unexpectedly elbowed me out of all my expectations.
I now felt an irresistible hankering to pay a visit to this scene of my
boyhood; and to get a peep at the odd kind of life that was passing
within the mansion of my maternal ancestors.


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