As
for J. J., he too had his share of enjoyment; the charming scenes around
him did not escape his bright eye, he absorbed pleasure in his silent
way, he was up with the sunrise always, and at work with his eyes and his
heart if not with his hands. A beautiful object too is such a one to
contemplate, a pure virgin soul, a creature gentle, pious, and full of
love, endowed with sweet gifts, humble and timid; but for truth's and
justice's sake inflexible, thankful to God and man, fond, patient, and
faithful. Clive was still his hero as ever, his patron, his splendid
young prince and chieftain. Who was so brave, who was so handsome,
generous, witty as Clive? To hear Clive sing, as the lad would whilst
they were seated at their work, or driving along on this happy journey,
through fair landscapes in the sunshine, gave J. J. the keenest pleasure;
his wit was a little slow, but he would laugh with his eyes at Clive's
sallies, or ponder over them and explode with laughter presently, giving
a new source of amusement to these merry travellers, and little Alfred
would laugh at J.
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