Explore "The Mudfog and Other Sketches" by Charles Dickens on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
TO recount with what trouble I have brought you up-with what an anxious eye I have regarded your progress,-how late and how often I have sat up at night working for you,-and how many thousand letters I have received from, and written to your various relations and friends, many of whom have been of a querulous and irritable turn,-to dwell on the anxiety and tenderness with which I have (as far as I possessed the power) inspected and chosen your food;
rejecting the indigestible and heavy matter which some injudicious but well-meaning old ladies would have had you swallow, and retaining only those light and pleasant articles which I deemed calculated to keep you free from all gross humours, and to render you an agreeable child, and one who might be popular with society in general,-to dilate on the steadiness with which I have prevented your annoying any company by talking politics-always assuring you that you would thank me for it yourself some day when you grew older,-to expatiate, in short, upon my own assiduity as a parent, is beside my present purpose, though I cannot but contemplate your fair appearance-your robust health, and unimpeded circulation (which I take to be the great secret of your good looks) without the liveliest satisfaction and delight.