Classics Retold

Mr Dick and I became the best friends, and very often when his work was done, went out to fly the great kite.  Every day of his life he had a long sitting at Memorial, which never made the least progress, however hard he laboured, for King Charles the First always strayed into it, sooner or later, and it was thrown aside and another one begun.  The patience and hope with which he bore these perpetual disappointment, the mild perception he had, that there was something wrong about King Charles the First, the feeble efforts he made to keep him out, and the certainty with which he came in and tumbled the Memorial out of all shape, made a deep impression on me.  What Mr Dick supposed of would come of Memorial, if it were completed; where he thought it was to go, or what he thought it was to do, he knew no more than anybody else, I believe.  Nor was it at all necessary that he should trouble himself with such questions, for if anything were certain under the sun, it was c...