"He has very little time to read it; for you know
he is a parish surgeon in a great parish in London, full of poor
people, worse off than you can imagine, and often very ill. He is
obliged to be always hard at work in the narrow close streets there,
and to see everything sad, and dismal, and disagreeable, that can be
found; but, do you know, Bessie, he always looks for the good and
beautiful side; he looks at one person's patience, and another
person's kindness, and at some little child's love for its mother or
sister, that hinders it from being too painful for him."
"But is that poetry? I thought poetry meant verses."
"Verses are generally the best and most suitable way of expressing
our feelings about what is good and beautiful; but they are not
always poetry, any more than the verses they sang to-night about the
bread and butter, because, you know, wanting thick butter was not
exactly a beautiful feeling. I think the denying themselves their
little indulgences for the sake of giving the poor woman a pig, is
much more poetical, though nobody said a word in verse.
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