text:  You have often heard me tell how like two brothers my dear father and _our_ old squire were always--though father was only a steward--how he used to have me at the great house for a month at a time where he had me taught by a lady who lived with him before I went to school; and so I used often to see that little boy in black--very queer and sullen he was thought; but he had no playfellow except an owl that he kept tame I remember and cried when he buried him in the garden --the only time he was ever known to cry he was so still and stern