Maximum-assistance view: every word above everyday vocabulary is explained at every appearance; each name is introduced at its first appearance in the chapter.

CHAPTER I

There was no possibility of taking a walk that day (A walk that day was out of the question). We had been wandering, indeed, in the leafless shrubbery an hour in the morning (We had, it is true, wandered an hour that morning among the bare garden bushes); but since dinner (Mrs. Reed, when there was no company, dined early (Mrs. Reed, when no guests came, took dinner early)) the cold winter wind had brought with it clouds so sombre, and a rain so penetrating (the cold winter wind had carried in clouds so dark and rain so soaking), that further outdoor exercise was now out of the question (that any more time outdoors was now impossible).

I was glad of it: I never liked long walks, especially on chilly afternoons: dreadful to me was the coming home in the raw twilight, with nipped fingers and toes (I dreaded coming home in the cold wet dusk with frozen fingers and toes), and a heart saddened by the chidings of Bessie, the nurse (and a heart made heavy by cross words from Bessie, the children's nurse), and humbled by the consciousness of my physical inferiority to Eliza, John, and Georgiana Reed (and brought low by knowing myself smaller and weaker than Eliza, John, and Georgiana Reed).

The said Eliza, John, and Georgiana were now clustered round their mama in the drawing-room (Those same three — Eliza, John, and Georgiana — were now gathered round their mother in the sitting room): she lay reclined on a sofa by the fireside, and with her darlings about her (she lay stretched on a sofa by the fire, and with her dear ones around her) (for the time neither quarrelling nor crying) looked perfectly happy ((neither fighting nor crying just then) looked perfectly content). Me, she had dispensed from joining the group (Me she had excused from joining them); saying, “She regretted to be under the necessity of keeping me at a distance (She was sorry to be forced to keep me at arm's length); but that until she heard from Bessie, and could discover by her own observation (but until she had Bessie's word, and could see with her own eyes), that I was endeavouring in good earnest to acquire a more sociable and childlike disposition (that I was truly working to gain a warmer, more childlike nature), a more attractive and sprightly manner—something lighter, franker, more natural, as it were (a more pleasing and lively manner — something lighter, more open, more natural, so to speak)—she really must exclude me from privileges intended only for contented, happy, little children (she really had to shut me out of treats meant only for contented, happy little children).”

“What does Bessie say I have done? (What does Bessie say I did?)” I asked.

“Jane, I don’t like cavillers or questioners (I do not like fault-finders or questioners) (Jane — the girl telling this story — is told: I dislike fault-finders and questioners); besides, there is something truly forbidding in a child taking up her elders in that manner (and there is something truly unpleasant in a child answering her elders back that way). Be seated somewhere; and until you can speak pleasantly, remain silent (Sit down somewhere, and until you can speak nicely, keep quiet).”

A breakfast-room adjoined the drawing-room, I slipped in there (A small morning room opened off the sitting room, and I slipped inside). It contained a bookcase: I soon possessed myself of a volume, taking care that it should be one stored with pictures (I soon took hold of a book, making sure it was one full of pictures). I mounted into the window-seat: gathering up my feet, I sat cross-legged, like a Turk (I climbed onto the window seat, pulled up my feet, and sat cross-legged like a man of the East); and, having drawn the red moreen curtain nearly close, I was shrined in double retirement (and having pulled the heavy red wool curtain almost shut, I was tucked away twice over).

Folds of scarlet drapery shut in my view to the right hand (Folds of deep red curtain closed off my view on the right); to the left were the clear panes of glass, protecting, but not separating me from the drear November day (on the left, clear panes of glass shielded me from the gloomy November day without shutting it out). At intervals, while turning over the leaves of my book, I studied the aspect of that winter afternoon (I studied the face of that winter afternoon). Afar, it offered a pale blank of mist and cloud (Far off it showed a pale emptiness of mist and cloud); near a scene of wet lawn and storm-beat shrub, with ceaseless rain sweeping away wildly before a long and lamentable blast (and near at hand wet grass and storm-beaten bushes, with endless rain driven wildly along on a long sad-sounding wind).

I returned to my book—Bewick’s History of British Birds (I went back to my book — Bewick's History of British Birds, a famous picture book of birds): the letterpress thereof I cared little for, generally speaking (the printed text itself I mostly cared little about); and yet there were certain introductory pages that, child as I was, I could not pass quite as a blank (yet certain opening pages, child though I was, I could not skip as if they were nothing). They were those which treat of the haunts of sea-fowl (They were the ones that tell of the lonely homes of sea birds); of “the solitary rocks and promontories” by them only inhabited (of the lone rocks and high headlands where only they live); of the coast of Norway, studded with isles from its southern extremity (and of the coast of Norway, dotted with islands from its southern tip), the Lindeness, or Naze, to the North Cape (from the Lindeness, or Naze, at Norway's south end, up to the North Cape)—

“Where the Northern Ocean, in vast whirls, Boils round the naked, melancholy isles Of farthest Thule; and the Atlantic surge Pours in among the stormy Hebrides (the verse pictures the far northern sea churning in huge circles round bare sad islands at the world's end, while Atlantic waves flood in among the storm-swept Scottish isles) (while the great ocean’s waves flood in among the storm-beaten Scottish islands).”

Nor could I pass unnoticed the suggestion of the bleak shores of Lapland, Siberia, Spitzbergen, Nova Zembla, Iceland, Greenland (Nor could I pass over the hints of the cold bare shores of the far northern lands), with “the vast sweep of the Arctic Zone, and those forlorn regions of dreary space (the huge stretch of the Arctic Zone, and those lost lonely reaches of empty space),—that reservoir of frost and snow (that great store of frost and snow), where firm fields of ice, the accumulation of centuries of winters, glazed in Alpine heights above heights, surround the pole (where solid fields of ice, piled up by centuries of winters into glassy mountain heights, ring the pole), and concentre the multiplied rigours of extreme cold (and gather in one place the doubled hardships of extreme cold).” Of these death-white realms I formed an idea of my own (Of these death-white lands I built up a notion of my own): shadowy, like all the half-comprehended notions that float dim through children’s brains, but strangely impressive (shadowy, like all the half-understood ideas that drift dimly through children's minds, yet strangely powerful). The words in these introductory pages connected themselves with the succeeding vignettes (The words of those opening pages joined themselves to the small pictures that followed), and gave significance to the rock standing up alone in a sea of billow and spray (and gave meaning to the rock standing alone in a sea of rolling waves and spray); to the broken boat stranded on a desolate coast (to the broken boat left high on an empty shore); to the cold and ghastly moon glancing through bars of cloud at a wreck just sinking (and to the cold deathly moon peering through bars of cloud at a ship going down).

I cannot tell what sentiment haunted the quite solitary churchyard, with its inscribed headstone (I cannot say what feeling hung about the utterly lonely churchyard picture, with its lettered gravestone); its gate, its two trees, its low horizon, girdled by a broken wall, and its newly-risen crescent, attesting the hour of eventide (its low skyline ringed by a broken wall, and its newly risen sliver of moon marking the evening hour).

The two ships becalmed on a torpid sea, I believed to be marine phantoms (The two ships stopped dead on a sluggish sea I took for ghost ships).

The fiend pinning down the thief’s pack behind him, I passed over quickly: it was an object of terror (The devil-figure pinning down the thief's bundle behind him I turned past quickly: it terrified me).

So was the black horned thing seated aloof on a rock, surveying a distant crowd surrounding a gallows (So did the black horned creature sitting apart on a rock, watching a far-off crowd around a hanging-post).

Each picture told a story; mysterious often to my undeveloped understanding and imperfect feelings, yet ever profoundly interesting (often a mystery to my young understanding and half-formed feelings, yet always deeply interesting): as interesting as the tales Bessie sometimes narrated on winter evenings, when she chanced to be in good humour (as interesting as the stories Bessie sometimes told on winter evenings, when she happened to be in a good mood); and when, having brought her ironing-table to the nursery hearth, she allowed us to sit about it (when she had brought her ironing table to the nursery fireside, she let us sit round it), and while she got up Mrs. Reed’s lace frills, and crimped her nightcap borders (and while she pressed Mrs. Reed's lace trimmings and pinched the edges of her nightcap into folds), fed our eager attention with passages of love and adventure taken from old fairy tales and other ballads (she fed our eager ears with scenes of love and adventure from old fairy tales and story-songs); or (as at a later period I discovered) from the pages of Pamela, and Henry, Earl of Moreland (from the pages of Pamela and of Henry, Earl of Moreland — two old novels).

With Bewick on my knee, I was then happy: happy at least in my way (With the bird book on my knee I was happy then — happy at least in my own way). I feared nothing but interruption, and that came too soon (I feared nothing but being disturbed, and that came too soon). The breakfast-room door opened.

“Boh! Madam Mope! (Boo! Madam Long-Face! — his taunting name for Jane)” cried the voice of John Reed; then he paused: he found the room apparently empty (called the voice of John Reed; then he stopped — the room seemed empty to him).

“Where the dickens is she! (Where the devil is she!)” he continued. “Lizzy! Georgy! (Lizzy! Georgy! — pet names for Eliza and Georgiana) (calling to his sisters) Joan is not here (Joan — his mocking twist on Jane's name — is not here): tell mama she is run out into the rain—bad animal! (tell mama she has run out into the rain — nasty animal!)”

“It is well I drew the curtain,” thought I; and I wished fervently he might not discover my hiding-place (and I wished with all my heart he would not find my hiding place): nor would John Reed have found it out himself; he was not quick either of vision or conception (he was not sharp of eye or of mind); but Eliza just put her head in at the door, and said at once (but Eliza simply looked round the door and said at once)—

“She is in the window-seat, to be sure, Jack (She is in the window seat, of course, Jack).”

And I came out immediately, for I trembled at the idea of being dragged forth by the said Jack (I came out at once, for I shook at the thought of being hauled out by that same Jack).

“What do you want?” I asked, with awkward diffidence (I asked, shy and awkward).

“Say, ‘What do you want, Master Reed?’” was the answer. “I want you to come here (Come here, he orders);” and seating himself in an arm-chair (and settling himself into an armchair), he intimated by a gesture that I was to approach and stand before him (he showed by a wave of the hand that I was to come and stand in front of him).

John Reed was a schoolboy of fourteen years old; four years older than I, for I was but ten: large and stout for his age, with a dingy and unwholesome skin (big and heavy for his age, with dull unhealthy-looking skin); thick lineaments in a spacious visage, heavy limbs and large extremities (coarse features in a broad face, heavy arms and legs and big hands and feet). He gorged himself habitually at table, which made him bilious (He regularly stuffed himself at meals, which upset his stomach), and gave him a dim and bleared eye and flabby cheeks (and gave him a dull watery eye and loose soft cheeks). He ought now to have been at school; but his mama had taken him home for a month or two, “on account of his delicate health (because of his delicate health).” Mr. Miles, the master, affirmed that he would do very well if he had fewer cakes and sweetmeats sent him from home (Mr. Miles, the schoolmaster, insisted the boy would do very well with fewer cakes and sweets sent from home); but the mother’s heart turned from an opinion so harsh (but the mother's heart refused so unkind a view), and inclined rather to the more refined idea that John’s sallowness was owing to over-application and, perhaps, to pining after home (and leaned instead to the gentler notion that John's yellowish colour came from too much study and, perhaps, homesickness).

John had not much affection for his mother and sisters, and an antipathy to me (John had little love for his mother and sisters, and a settled dislike of me). He bullied and punished me; not two or three times in the week, nor once or twice in the day, but continually (He bullied and punished me — not two or three times a week, nor once or twice a day, but constantly): every nerve I had feared him, and every morsel of flesh in my bones shrank when he came near (and every scrap of flesh on my bones shrank when he came near). There were moments when I was bewildered by the terror he inspired, because I had no appeal whatever against either his menaces or his inflictions (the terror he caused left me lost, for I had no one at all to appeal to against his threats or his blows); the servants did not like to offend their young master by taking my part against him (the servants dared not offend their young master by siding with me), and Mrs. Reed was blind and deaf on the subject (and Mrs. Reed was blind and deaf on the matter): she never saw him strike or heard him abuse me, though he did both now and then in her very presence (she never saw him hit me nor heard him insult me, though he did both now and then right in front of her), more frequently, however, behind her back.

Habitually obedient to John, I came up to his chair (Trained to obey John, I came up to his chair): he spent some three minutes in thrusting out his tongue at me as far as he could without damaging the roots (he spent a good three minutes sticking his tongue out at me as far as it would go without tearing the roots): I knew he would soon strike, and while dreading the blow (I knew a blow was coming, and while I feared it), I mused on the disgusting and ugly appearance of him who would presently deal it (I turned over in my mind the disgusting, ugly look of the boy who was about to strike). I wonder if he read that notion in my face; for, all at once, without speaking, he struck suddenly and strongly. I tottered, and on regaining my equilibrium retired back a step or two from his chair (I swayed, and once I had my balance back, stepped a pace or two away from his chair).

“That is for your impudence in answering mama awhile since (That is for your cheek in answering mama just now),” said he, “and for your sneaking way of getting behind curtains (and for your sneaking trick of hiding behind curtains), and for the look you had in your eyes two minutes since, you rat!”

Accustomed to John Reed’s abuse, I never had an idea of replying to it (Used to John Reed's insults, it never entered my head to answer them); my care was how to endure the blow which would certainly follow the insult (my one thought was how to bear the blow that was sure to follow).

“What were you doing behind the curtain?” he asked.

“I was reading.”

“Show the book.”

I returned to the window and fetched it thence (I went back to the window and brought it from there).

“You have no business to take our books; you are a dependent, mama says; you have no money; your father left you none (you live on our charity, mama says; you have no money — your father left you none); you ought to beg, and not to live here with gentlemen’s children like us (you should be begging, not living here with a gentleman's children like us), and eat the same meals we do, and wear clothes at our mama’s expense (eating the same food we eat and wearing clothes paid for by our mama). Now, I’ll teach you to rummage my bookshelves (Now I will teach you to go digging through my bookshelves): for they are mine; all the house belongs to me, or will do in a few years. Go and stand by the door, out of the way of the mirror and the windows (Go stand by the door, away from the mirror and the windows).”

I did so, not at first aware what was his intention (I obeyed, not at first seeing what he meant to do); but when I saw him lift and poise the book and stand in act to hurl it, I instinctively started aside with a cry of alarm (but when I saw him raise the book, balance it, and stand ready to throw, I jumped aside by instinct with a cry of fear): not soon enough, however; the volume was flung, it hit me, and I fell, striking my head against the door and cutting it (but not fast enough: the book flew, struck me, and I fell, hitting my head on the door and cutting it open). The cut bled, the pain was sharp: my terror had passed its climax; other feelings succeeded (The cut bled and the pain was sharp; my terror had passed its peak, and other feelings took its place).

“Wicked and cruel boy!” I said. “You are like a murderer—you are like a slave-driver—you are like the Roman emperors! (You are like a murderer — like a slave-driver — like the cruel Roman emperors!)”

I had read Goldsmith’s History of Rome, and had formed my opinion of Nero, Caligula, &c. (I had read Goldsmith's History of Rome and made up my mind about Nero, Caligula, and the other cruel emperors) Also I had drawn parallels in silence, which I never thought thus to have declared aloud (I had drawn the comparisons silently too, never dreaming I would speak them out loud like this).

“What! what!” he cried. “Did she say that to me? Did you hear her, Eliza and Georgiana? Won’t I tell mama? but first—”

He ran headlong at me: I felt him grasp my hair and my shoulder: he had closed with a desperate thing (He charged straight at me; I felt him seize my hair and shoulder — but he had taken hold of a creature past caring). I really saw in him a tyrant, a murderer (I truly saw in him a bully-king, a murderer). I felt a drop or two of blood from my head trickle down my neck (I felt a drop or two of blood from my head run down my neck), and was sensible of somewhat pungent suffering (and felt a sharp stinging pain): these sensations for the time predominated over fear, and I received him in frantic sort (for the moment those feelings drowned out fear, and I met him like a wild thing). I don’t very well know what I did with my hands, but he called me “Rat! Rat!” and bellowed out aloud. Aid was near him: Eliza and Georgiana had run for Mrs. Reed, who was gone upstairs (Help for him was close by: Eliza and Georgiana had run for Mrs. Reed, who had gone upstairs): she now came upon the scene, followed by Bessie and her maid Abbot (and she now arrived, followed by Bessie and her own maid, Abbot). We were parted: I heard the words (We were pulled apart, and I heard the words)—

“Dear! dear! What a fury to fly at Master John! (What a wild temper, flying at Master John like that!)”

“Did ever anybody see such a picture of passion! (Did anyone ever see such a picture of rage!)”

Then Mrs. Reed subjoined (Then Mrs. Reed added)—

“Take her away to the red-room, and lock her in there (Take her off to the red room and lock her in).” Four hands were immediately laid upon me, and I was borne upstairs (Four hands seized me at once, and I was carried upstairs).