To Garum Firs
WHILE the possible troubles of Maggies future were occupying her fathers mind, she herself was tasting only the bitterness of the present. Childhood has no forebodings; but then, it is soothed by no memories of outlived sorrow. The fact was, the day had begun ill with Maggie. The pleasure of having Lucy to look at, and the prospect of the afternoon visit to Garum Firs where she would hear uncle Pullets musical-box had been marred as early as eleven oclock by the advent of the hair-dresser from St Oggs who had spoken in the severest terms of the dition in which he had found her hair, holding up one jagged lock after another and saying, `See here! tut - tut - tut! in a tone of mingled disgust and pity, whiaggies imagination was equivalent to the stro expression of public opinion. Mr Rappit, the hairdresser, with his well-anointed al locks tending wavily upward, like the simulated pyramid of flame on a moal urn, seemed to her at that moment t……（内容加载失败！）
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