Sunday, and that’s how I know. 
And I’m a sacred responsibility to my parents—­(it was what the
clergyman’s wife at the seaside said),
And a solemn charge, and a fair white page, and a tender bud, and
a spotless nature of wax to be moulded;—­but the rest of
it has gone out of my head. 
There was a lot more, and she left two books as well, and I think she
called me a Privilege, and Mamma said “Yes,” and began to cry. 
And Nurse came in with luncheon on a tray, and put away the books, and
said she was as weak as a kitten, and worried to
fiddlestrings, as any one with common sense could see with
half an eye. 
I was hopping round the room, but I stopped and said, “My kitten’s not
weak, and I don’t believe anybody could see with only half an
eye.  Could they, Mamma?”
And Nurse said, “Go and play, my dear, and let your Mamma rest;”
but Mamma said, “No, my love, stay where you are. 
Dear Nurse, lift me up, and put a pillow to my back, I know
you mean to be kind;
But she does ask such remarkable questions, and while I’ve strength
to speak, don’t let me check the inquiring mind. 
If I should fail to be all a mother ought—­oh, how my head throbs when
the dear child jumps!” and then Nurse said, “Ugh! 
When you’re worried into your grave, she’ll have no mother at all,
and’ll have to tumble up as other folks do. 
There’s the poor master at his wits’ end—­a child’s not all a grown
person has to think of—­and Miss Jane would do well enough if
she’d less of her own way;
But there’s more children spoilt with care than the want of it, and
more mothers murdered than there’s folks hanged for, and
that’s what I say. 
Children learns what you teach ’em, and Miss Jane’s old enough to have
learned to wait upon you: 
And if her mother thought less of her and she thought more of her
mother, it would be better for her too.” 
But Nurse is a nasty cross old thing—­I hate her; and I hate the
doctor, for he wanted me to be left behind
When Mamma went to the sea for her health; but I begged and begged
till she promised I should go, for Mamma is always kind. 
And she bought me a new wooden spade and a basket, and a red and green
ship with three masts, and a one-and-sixpenny telescope to
look at the sea;
But when I got on to the sands, I thought I’d rather be on the
esplanade, for there was a little girl there who was
looking at me,
Dressed in a navy-blue suit and a sailor hat, with fair hair tied
with ribbons; so I told Mamma,
And she got me a suit, ready-made (but she said it was dreadfully
dear), and a hat to match, in the Pebble Brooch Repository
and Universal Bazaar. 
It faded in the sun, and came all to pieces in the wash; but I was
tired of it before. 
For the esplanade is very dull, and the little girl with fair hair had
got sand-boots and a shrimping-net and was playing on