"
"Thank you for the load your words have lifted from my mind," said Mrs.
Noah, settling back in her chair, a satisfied expression upon her gentle
countenance. "I hope you will understand why I spoke, and withal why
modern literature generally has been so distressful to me. When you
reflect that the world is satisfied that most of man's criminal instincts
are the result of heredity, and that Mr. Noah and I are unable to shift
the responsibility for posterity to other shoulders than our own, you will
understand my position. We were about the most domestic old couple that
ever lived, and when we see the long and varied assortment of crimes that
are cropping out everywhere in our descendants it is painful to us to
realize what a pair of unconsciously wicked old fogies we must have been."
"We all understand that," said Cleopatra, kindly; "and we are all prepared
to acquit you of any responsibility for the advanced condition of
wickedness to-day. Man has progressed since your time, my dear grandma,
and the modern improvements in the science of crime are no more
attributable to you than the invention of the telephone or the oyster
cocktail is attributable to your lord and master."
"Thank you kindly," murmured the old lady, and she resumed her knitting
upon a phantom tam-o'-shanter, which she was making as a Christmas
surprise for her husband.
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