"Begone, wretch!" cried the mother, stung beyond endurance by his taunts; "or I will drive you hence with my curses. And Pottiswick, of course. It seemed to him that speech would be an anticlimax. But Jonathan, fixing a terrible look upon him, cried. I shall take to him as nat'ral as if he were my own flesh and blood afore long. “Do you know why they are estranged?” Lucy asked. ‘Then he went stark staring crazy, if you ask me. My foster mother, Sheila, insists that I go to St.
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