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Python 101
2nd Edition
Michael Driscoll
* * * * *
This is a Leanpub book. Leanpub empowers authors and publishers with the
Lean Publishing process. Lean Publishing is the act of publishing an in-
progress ebook using lightweight tools and many iterations to get reader
feedback, pivot until you have the right book and build traction once you
do.
* * * * *
He thanks his mother for his love of language, stories, and the written word.
Martin Breuss
With a background in education, Martin started to learn programming
mostly by himself through online resources after finishing university. Since
then, he’s worked as a curriculum developer, programming mentor, code
reviewer, and Python bootcamp instructor. Quality education, combined
with figuring out how to have fun while effectively learning unfamiliar
topics, has always been a big interest in his life. Currently, he creates
content for Real Python as well as online and in-person courses for
CodingNomads, a community for people learning to code.
If you are just starting out with computer programming, keep in mind that
learning something new takes time and effort, and that it will be easier if
you have fun while doing it. Some learning strategies that have been helpful
for Martin are (1) focusing on projects that interest him personally and (2)
actively participating in communities of motivated learners.
Acknowledgments
Writing is a time consuming process. For Python 101’s 2nd Edition, I
wanted to get some great technical reviewers so that the book would be
better than ever. I want to thank Martin Breuss for his many insightful
comments and useful suggestions. I was also honored to have Python core
developer Ethan Furman as a technical reviewer and editor. His time spent
ensuring correct code and improving content is appreciated.
I also want to thank the many people who have supported me through
Kickstarter and my blog. I have many amazing readers and friends, such as
Steve Barnes who gave me some great feedback on the first few chapters of
this book and Michal who helped with some of the chapters in part III.
There are so many of you who have helped me learn new things about
Python and been a wonderful community.
Thank you!
Mike
Introduction
Welcome to the 2nd Edition of Python 101! The original Python 101 came
out in the summer of 2014 and was written with Python 3.5 in mind. The
2nd Edition of this book has been completely updated and rearranged for
the latest version of Python, which at the time of writing is 3.8.
Some publishers / authors will only do minor updates when creating a new
edition of a book. That is not how I roll. I have personally gone through the
entire book and updated every single chapter. I have removed content that
was either no longer relevant or could lead to confusion to readers. I have
also added several new chapters to the book that cover such things as using
version control and setting up projects.
Many programming books will only teach you the basics of the language.
With Python 101, the goal is to help you not only learn the basics of the
language but to go beyond the basics and dig into some intermediate level
material. The reason for this is that you usually need to know more than the
basics to create something valuable.
Because of this, the book will be split up into the following four parts:
Virtual environments
Type hinting
Threads and Processes
Debugging
Decorators
Code profiling
Basic testing
These topics cover some intermediate level Python and also help you learn
some key software development skills, like knowing how to debug your
code, add basic unit tests, and use version control.
Part III - Tutorials
This part of the book is where you will put it all together. You will learn
how to use Python with some real world scripts. These scripts will be basic,
but they will demonstrate the power of Python and what you can do with it.
By the end of this section, you should be able to confidently distribute your
code all on your own!
Target Audience
This book is written for people that have used other programming
languages or taken some computer science or related classes. While this
book won’t handhold you through all the terminology, it will help you learn
how to use Python effectively. It also covers some intermediate level topics
that most beginner books do not.
About the Author
Michael Driscoll has been programming with Python for more than a
decade. He is active in multiple Python communities and is a contributor for
Real Python. Mike has also been blogging about Python at
http://www.blog.pythonlibrary.org/ for many years and has written several
books about Python:
http://python.org/download/
If you need anything beyond what comes with Python, the chapter will tell
you how to install it.
Book Source Code
The book’s source code can be found on Github:
https://github.com/driscollis/python101code
Reader Feedback
If you enjoyed the book or have any other kind of feedback, I would love to
hear from you. You can contact me at the following:
[email protected]
Errata
I try my best not to publish errors in my writings, but it happens from time
to time. If you happen to see an error in this book, feel free to let me know
by emailing me at the following:
Once you have finished this section, you will be able to understand the
basics of Python and its syntax.
First of all, there are several different versions of Python, which are called
“distributions”. A distribution is a word used to describe a collection of
software. A Python distribution will include the core Python language at a
minimum and sometimes include extra 3rd party libraries.
The official version is called Python or CPython and you can get it from the
following:
https://www.python.org/
https://www.anaconda.com/
https://winpython.github.io/
There are many other Python distributions to choose from. You can see a
bunch more here:
https://wiki.python.org/moin/PythonDistributions
This book is focused on Python 3. The current version at the time of writing
is Python 3.8. It is recommended that you use the official Python
distribution rather than Anaconda, although the examples in this book
should work for both. Any examples that use a specific feature only found
in 3.8 or newer will be noted as such.
There are 32-bit and 64-bit distributions of Python. If you are unsure what
your computer uses, you should opt for the 32-bit version if that is
available. Newer Macs no longer support 32-bit, so in that case you only
have one choice.
Installing on Windows
The https://www.python.org/ website has a download section where you can
download an installer for Python.
There is a checkbox in the wizard for adding Python to the path. If you
don’t have an older version of Python already installed or if you want to use
the latest as your default Python, then I recommend that you check that
checkbox. It is unchecked by default, as shown in the image above.
If you install Python to your path, it will allow you to run Python from the
command line (cmd.exe) or Powershell by just typing python. If you install
Python using the Windows Store, it will automatically add Python to your
path.
The next page of the installation wizard allows you to enable or disable
optional features:
Fig. 1-2: Enabling Optional Python features
You can leave the defaults enabled, but if you are short on space, you
should untick the “Python Test Suite” option. The next page of the wizard
will allow you to enable Advanced Options:
Here you can install Python for all users of the machine. You can also
associate Python files with Python, create shortcuts, add Python to your
environment and more. Most of the time, the defaults will be fine. However
it’s a good idea to go ahead and check the “Precompile standard library” as
that can make Python run better on your machine.
When you press Next here, you will probably get a warning from Window’s
User Access Control:
This is a verification step that asks if you really want to proceed with
installing Python. Go ahead and press Yes. Now Python is being installed:
You now have Python installed on your Windows machine! Try running
Python by opening cmd.exe:
You should see something like the above. To exit, you can press CTRL+D
on Linux and Mac, CTRL+Z on Windows, or type exit() on any platform
and press Enter.
Installing on Mac
Macs usually come with Python pre-installed. However, if you want the
latest version of Python, then you may need to download Python.
Note that the App Store does not have Python in it, so using the Python
website is the way to go.
Let’s take a moment to learn how to install Python on a Mac. Here’s the
first thing you will see when you double-click the downloaded pkg file:
This screen basically tells you what you are about to install and that you
will need to install some SSL certificates as well. Go ahead and press
Continue:
Fig. 1-9: Installing Python on Mac OSX (Read More)
This page gives you more information about the SSL certificate as well as
general information about using IDLE and Tkinter on a Mac. IDLE is
Python’s built-in code editor. You will learn more about that in the next
chapter. Tkinter is a Python library that you can use to create cross-platform
graphical user interfaces.
Tkinter is the library that is used to create IDLE, the Python editor that
comes with Python.
If you are interested, read through the information on this page. Otherwise,
go ahead and Continue:
Fig. 1-10: Installing Python on Mac OSX (License Agreement)
This is Python’s license agreement page. It also has a little bit of history
about Python on it. Feel free to check it out or skip it and press Continue:
This page allows you to choose which folder to install Python to, in contrast
to the previous page which lets you pick which disk to install to.
Fig. 1-13: Installing Python on Mac OSX (Actual Installation)
This page shows the installation as it happens. You can wait and watch
Python get installed, or go get something to drink. Either way, Python will
be installed before too long.
Fig. 1-14: Installing Python on Mac OSX (Finished)
The source download is Python source code with some build scripts
included that will allow you to build and install Python on Linux.
https://devguide.python.org/setup/
Sometimes you can also install a pre-built copy of the latest Python using
your package manager. One good source for Python on Linux is the
“deadsnakes” PPA. You will need to use Google to find it, but that makes it
much easier to install another version of Python on Linux.
Android / iOS
You can also run Python on Android and iOS via downloadable
applications. Pydroid is a popular application for Android while
Pythonista is one of the popular choices for iOS. Trying to write code on a
phone can be really problematic due to the on-screen keyboards. If you
must go this route, you may want to use a tablet.
Other Operating Systems
Python can run on Raspberry Pi as well. If you do not have a computer, this
is one of the most cost effective ways to get Python as a Raspberry Pi can
cost as little as $10. Of course, you will need to hook it up to a monitor,
keyboard and mouse. Most of the time, a Raspberry Pi will also need an SD
card for storage. But they are a very feasible development environment.
Other Python Variants
In addition to Anaconda, Python has several other variants that are worth
mentioning:
The main reason for trying out these other implementations of Python is for
speed or flexibility. For example, if you are already familiar with .NET or
Java, then you might find IronPython or Jython a bit easier to jump into.
Another reason to use Jython or IronPython is because you have pre-
existing code in Java or .NET that you still need to use with Python.
Now that you have Python installed, you can congratulate yourself. You
have started on a new endeavor and you have just taken the first step!
However, before you try running Python, you may want to read the next
chapter where you will learn about additional tools that will help you get
the most out of your Python adventure!
Exploring the Variety of Random
Documents with Different Content
"I am sad indeed, my dear," returned Mrs. Lesly, in the same absent
tone, "but I cannot find them, though they are all here." She
stopped and glanced at the secretary wistfully, as if its old-fashioned
drawers could speak if they liked.
"What is lost?" said Mabel, "let me try and find it—I will look over all
the papers if you will let me."
"No, no, what I have lost I ought to find, it is my own indolence
which has done it."
"Yes, but do not think of that now, mamma, love, remember Doctor
Parkinson said you were to be kept quite quiet, and now you are
wandering about all day—only think how precious your health is to
us, and how happy we all are when you are well."
"Mabel, you kill me by these words—I feel that I am dying, but do
not kill me before the time appointed."
Mabel was silent, and stood looking at her mother with painful
earnestness.
"Do not look at me so, sweet child. Well may you be surprised when
I have ruined you both."
"Ruin! my own mother, what do you mean?"
"Ah, you may well wonder at me," replied Mrs. Lesly, much excited,
"how could I be so silly as to injure my own children."
"Ah, now you are unkind," said Mabel, "why not tell me—is there a
sorrow I have refused to bear—is it not my privilege to be
sorrowful."
Tears rolled down her heated cheeks, and Mrs. Lesly continued to
regard her in silence.
"Is it not unjust to me, your own child," continued Mabel, (for she
had often before failed in obtaining her confidence,) "day after day
you are wearying yourself with something you will not let me know,
and injuring your health, which is more precious to us than any thing
else—mamma—I did not know you could be so unkind."
"Dear child, do not talk in this way, my only thought is of my
children, and oh!" said she, turning her head towards the secretary,
"if I could but find them."
"What?"
"The papers."
"What papers? Do tell me, can any thing be worse than this
concealment—you have always told me everything."
"Ah, if I had," said Mrs. Lesly, with a sigh.
"But do tell me now, I would rather hear any thing than see you
suffer."
"Can you really bear it?" enquired her mother, seeming to shake off
the oppressive calmness with which she had been speaking before,
and looking attentively at her daughter, whose warm feelings were
almost ready to burst control.
"I will bear any thing," answered Mabel, walking to her, and kneeling
by her side, "any thing you can tell me."
"Then you shall hear me now, lest you have cause to curse your
mother's memory, if you heard it when I was gone from you. Your
poor father put by a thousand pounds, which I never told you of
before. It would have been but a poor pittance—yet it would have
saved you from want; but this is nearly all gone now, for my sister
has been borrowing of me from time to time, promising to be a
mother to my children—I have lent her six hundred of the thousand,
and I have lost her promises to repay them back. Should any thing
happen to either of us, what will you do?"
"Trust to me, mother, dear. He who has supported me through far
worse trials will support me still."
"Reproach me now, Mabel," said Mrs. Lesly, sorrowfully, "but do not
live to curse me in the bitterness of your heart."
"No, my loved mother," said her daughter, looking up in her face
with unmistakeable cheerfulness, "think no more of this now. Amy
shall not suffer while health is left me, and power to use the
education my dear father gave me; and I am so happy to think
nothing worse is to be feared, even should any thing so strange
occur as that aunt Villars could not pay us. And do you think I could
once forget that it was because you were kind, unselfish and
generous, that you lent the money."
Mrs. Lesly lent down and folded her child in her arms, saying, in a
low repentant voice—
"Not generous but weak, we should but injure ourselves, not those
dependent on us in order to serve others."
Yet she felt as if a weight had passed from her heart, and though
she was still apprehensive, she was no longer despairing.
CHAPTER X.
How brief is the time since her voice was the
clearest,
Her laughter the loudest, amid the gay throng.
Hemans.
Could the selfish but remember how much less they would feel their
own sorrows by sharing those of others, they would learn an easy
way to alleviate the unhappiness they are continually guarding
against, by so occupying themselves in thoughts of pity and
kindness as to leave little room in their own minds for fear or regret.
The kindhearted very soon begin to feel an interest in those who are
thrown much with them, and, though Lucy presented many faults to
her notice, Mabel learnt to watch her with great interest. It soon
became evident to her that she was perfectly in earnest in her
attempts to engage the affections of Captain Clair, and, though at
first she had been disgusted and pained at the idea—more ready to
pity than condemn—she felt for Lucy when she perceived, by her
variable spirits, that her heart was engaged in the flirtation she had
so thoughtlessly commenced. The conduct of Clair puzzled her, she
wished to believe that his attentions were serious, and yet she could
not help thinking they meant nothing beyond the fashionable love he
might often have professed for the most pleasing young lady of any
society in which he happened to find himself. Still, she hoped she
was mistaken; and thought, over again and again the little
anecdotes which Lucy daily brought to her confidence, assuming
them as unmistakeable signs of an affection which would soon
declare itself.
Mabel knew that a look, a single word, even an emphasis on an
ordinary word are sometimes the evidences of affection. Yet, all that
Lucy told her, seemed to fall short, certainly of her ideas of love,
formed, as they had been, from her own unhappy history. Yet she
hesitated to speak her opinion freely; for, after all, it might be only a
very unkind suspicion of one who had not given any very good cause
for believing him to be a trifler. He had, besides, been so kind to
herself, that she could not help feeling prepossessed in his favor.
Meanwhile, Clair appeared as attentive as ever, but his attentions
were never varied by ill humour or depression. Still Lucy rested
confident in the power of her own attractions—and, persisting in
believing he was only diffident—she became more and more lavish
of encouragement, without, however, finding her admirer become
either warmer or bolder.
What was to be done? Her letters to Bath had been full of the
admiration she had inspired in the young officer, and of expectations
that, in a few more posts, she would have to announce his decided
proposals. The letters she received in return were full of delighted
badinage from her sisters, and good advice from her mother. How
then could she bear to return home with the tacit confession that
her vanity had deceived her; and thus subject herself to her sisters'
cutting jests, and the bitterness of her often disappointed mother.
The poor girl had been spoilt by education and companionship, and
she was, according to her own idea, forced to play desperately in
order to justify what she had written home. She did not stop to
consider that all delicacy, modesty, and all that is precious in a
woman, would be risked in such a game, when she read such words
as these in her mother's letters, "you might well pride yourself," she
wrote, "on being the first of my daughters whom I shall have the
pleasure of seeing married. Indeed I have always flattered myself,
that my Lucy would be the first to secure herself an establishment."
The seeds of vanity, thus sown by a mother's hand, grew quickly in
the daughter's heart. To be the first to be married was an idea that
filled her with pleasure; she did not stop to analyze, or she might
have discovered that the hope of mortifying her sisters by her
marriage, was inconsistent with the love she believed she felt for
them.
But now, what could she do! how could she bring her backward
lover to a proposal! She eagerly seized any opportunity of meeting
him, and never neglected pursuing any conversation which seemed
likely to lead to love. Still she was as far from her object as ever, and
at length she felt the feverish eagerness of a gambler to bring the
game to a successful close.
Mabel, who saw she suffered, sincerely, pitied her, though unable to
divine her thoughts. Disappointed affection the poor girl might have
successfully struggled against; but she could not banish the idea of
the sneers and jests, which, in contrast to her present popularity,
would meet her at home. Home, which in its sacred circle ought to
have afforded a refuge from every evil passion, as from every
outward danger. She knew it would not be so, and willingly would
she almost have thrown herself at the Captain's feet, and begged
him to protect her from it, rather than oblige her to return to such a
sanctuary.
Oh, fashionable and speculating mothers, why do you crush in your
children some of the sweetest and loveliest of their feelings. Why are
you so utterly foolish, as, first to make them unworthy of a
husband's trust and confidence, and then wonder that they do not
obtain them. A man seeks, in his wife, for a companion to his best
feelings, fit your daughters to fill such situations, and, should they
then fail to obtain them, they will still hold an honored place in
society.
Lucy felt that her success, in a matrimonial point of view, was all
that her mother regarded, that she seemed to view her daughters
with the eyes of the public, and valued them in proportion to the
admiration they excited, and she now strained every nerve to gratify
both her and herself.
There was one little plan to which she looked with great interest. Mr.
Ware's proposal of their taking tea in Mrs. Lesly's garden, was to be
carried into effect. They were all to dine early, and drink tea soon
enough to prevent any danger of taking cold, and Mabel was to
prepare them tea and fruit in the garden, while Miss Ware would
take hers quietly in doors with Mrs. Lesly. Amy talked herself tired
with planning it, for a week before, asking Mabel for an exact list of
all the fruit she meant to get for their entertainment. Lucy looked
forward to it more seriously; she fancied Clair entered so eagerly
into the plan that she hoped he had some particular reason for
wishing it, more than the mere pleasure of taking tea in the open air.
Was it not very likely, that lounging down one of the shady walks
which skirted the garden, he might find courage to tell all she so
much wished to hear.
The expected evening at length arrived.
Mrs. Lesly was unusually well, for the renewed confidence between
herself and her daughter had produced the most happy effects. Lucy
was all sparkling animation, and Clair forgot to be rational in the
effervescence of his good spirits. Lucy, whose fear of caterpillars was
quite touching, had persuaded Mabel to place the tea-table on the
open grass-plot—and there the sisters had delighted themselves in
arranging the simple repast. Amy was so accustomed to bustle along
by Mabel's side, that she had come to the belief that she could do
nothing well without her; and she now hurried about, laughing
merrily, as she conveyed to the table, plates of early fruit, which old
John had always carefully matted through the summer. Mr. Ware was
particularly fond of fruit, and it was a great pleasure to the sisters,
to store up every little luxury for him.
The table looked very pretty with its fruit, and cream, and flowers,
and the little party was a merry one, ready to take pleasure and
amusement in anything. Mr. Ware told stories of other days, and
Clair brought anecdotes of the fashionable world of his day, while
the girls were well-pleased listeners.
When tea had been fully discussed, they strolled round the garden,
watching for the sunset, which was to be the signal for taking
shelter in the house. Lucy, the captain, and Amy, went off laughing
together, while Mabel, choosing the driest path in the garden, paced
up and down by the side of Mr. Ware.
"It is very kind of you," he said, "to prefer my company to those who
are gayer and younger; but I am sorry to perceive that you are not
quite in your usual spirits—I hope you have no reason to be
depressed."
"None at all," replied Mabel, "and yet I am foolish enough to feel
low-spirited. But have you never felt a vague apprehension that
something dreadful was going to happen—I cannot overcome it to-
night."
"I have often felt the same from no reason, as you say, and have as
often found my fears groundless. Do you not remember those
beautiful words—'He feareth no evil tidings?'"
"Oh yes—I must not think of it again."
Mr. Ware thought this might be no bad opportunity of speaking of
Mrs. Lesly's delicate health, and leading her to prepare herself for a
trial which he foresaw was not far distant; but at the very moment
that he was thinking how to introduce the subject, the sound of
merry laughter came from the other side of the garden, and Mabel
exclaimed—
"Oh, I fear they are at the swing, and John says it's unsafe. I must
go and stop them."
And so saying, she ran quickly across the garden, till she reached
the spot where the swing was suspended from the branch of two tall
fir trees.
Amy was in the swing, which Captain Clair was pushing, while Lucy
was clapping her hands as each time the child rose higher in the air.
"Oh, do stop," said Mabel, running up to them quite out of breath,
and scarcely able to say any more.
"No, no," said Lucy, "we want to see if Amy can touch that bough.
What a beautiful swinger she is—she nearly did it then, I declare—
try again, Amy."
"John says it is unsafe," cried Mabel, trying to be heard, "do, do stop
—for mercy's sake, Captain Clair, do stop her."
Both were, however, deaf to her entreaty. Lucy rejoiced in what she
thought superior nerve, and called to her not to be an old maid,
frightened at everything; while Clair thought her very feminine and
pretty, but apprehended no real danger.
Mabel continued to exclaim, till unable to get a hearing, she burst
into tears of vexation and alarm, fearing to touch the rope, lest she
might cause the accident she feared.
At the same moment, while she watched Amy ascend quickly
through the air, till her feet scattered a few leaves from the bough
she had been trying to touch, there came a heaving sound, then a
loud crash—the swing gave way, and Amy fell violently to the
ground. With a scream of piercing anguish, she sprang to her side,
where she lay close by a knotted root of the tree, which she had
struck in falling.
Lucy stood blushing and terrified, uttering some confused excuses
for not listening to one who justice whispered was never fanciful.
Captain Clair looked bewildered and thoroughly ashamed, for often
the only excuse for daring is its success.
Mr. Ware fortunately soon reached the spot, and though extremely
vexed at such a termination to the day's enjoyment, merely roused
his nephew, by telling him to carry the poor child into the house,
and then to fetch a doctor, that they might be certain she had
sustained no serious injury.
His nephew, too happy to have some duty assigned, raised Amy in
his arms, for she was perfectly insensible, and, as Mabel supported
her drooping head, carried her into the house. Mabel's conduct
during that short walk cut him to the heart; she seemed entirely to
have forgotten that his obstinacy had injured her sister; and in her
anxiety for her safety, she did not suffer a complaining word to
escape her. Those who possess little control over their own feelings,
often reverence those who have great self-command—and to Clair,
who a few minutes before, had been laughing with almost childish
excitement, and was now utterly depressed, Mabel seemed like a
superior being in the calm dignity of her silent distress.
At length, Amy was safely placed upon her bed, and leaving Mabel
and their servant-maid to try every means to restore her to
consciousness, he hastened in search of a surgeon. He met Lucy in
the lane, who told him that she had anticipated his errand, but that
the doctor had gone to see a patient many miles away.
"Then I shall go for a horse, and follow him," said he, "anything will
be better than this suspense."
"And what shall I do?" cried Lucy, wringing her hands; but Clair had
no comfort to offer, and hurried on to the village to find a horse.
Lucy returned to the house, frightened, and ashamed. She did not
like to remain alone, yet there was no one in the sitting-room; and
not daring to seek any one, she retired to her own chamber, which
looked so still and lonely, that she put the door half open, and
seated herself in a chair close by, to listen for any news from Amy's
room. She could not help recalling to herself the wild laugh of the
poor child only half an hour before, and she could not bear to think
of how still she was lying there.
At length she heard Betsy, the privileged maid, say:—
"It is all Miss Lucy's fault, I know, for the house has not been the
same since she came into it."
"Hush, Betsy," was the murmured reply, in her cousin's well known
voice; "those thoughts will only make it harder to bear."
Betsy was not so easily stopped, but Mabel seemed to reply no
more.
Every word went to Lucy's heart. The frequent question of
despairing feeling. "What shall I do?" received no answer, and she
sat on in her desolate seat, or varied her watch by stealing on tiptoe
to the end of the passage. Thus the weary time slipt away, and she
had listened to the church clock, as it struck the hours till midnight—
she then heard the sound of horses' feet, and anxious for any
change, she ran down stairs—but she found that Clair and the
surgeon had already been admitted by Mr. Ware, who was watching
for them, and, feeling herself of no use, she again crept to her room
to listen, trembling for the doctor's opinion. The examination lasted
a long time, and she became nearly worn out with waiting, and
trying every minute to divine something from the hurried voices, or
hurried steps of the attendants in the sick room. But she could learn
nothing, till she heard the doctor leave the room, and lead Mabel to
that next her own, and then she heard her say in a tremulous voice.
"What do you think of her, Mr. Williams?"
"The accident has been a severe one," he returned.
"Can she recover?" was asked, in a tone which Lucy trembled to
hear, and she leant forward to catch the answer.
"A complete cure is beyond hope, my dear Miss Lesly; I entreat you
to bear up against this blow," were the words she caught; "my heart
bleeds for you, but I see the back is broken, and you know—" a
groan of anguish, which she would have fled miles to have escaped
hearing, was the only answer sentence thus given.
Then followed confused words, as if he were trying to comfort,
broken by suppressed sobs.
An agony of terror, alike for Amy and her sister, then seized her—she
trembled in every limb; and when she attempted to cry out, her
tongue seemed to refuse to utter a sound. She sank upon the floor,
too overpowered to move, and yet without the relief of fainting. Her
thoughts became more and more distinct—of Amy, growing,
perhaps, in beauty and womanhood, stretched on the bed of
helpless sickness, unable to find advantages in either. What a blight
had she cast upon a home she had found so happy. And Mabel, too,
the beautiful unselfish Mabel, no longer the playfellow of innocent
childhood, but the hopeless nurse of youthful decrepitude.
Too carelessly instructed as she had been, in the forms, and almost
wholly deficient in the spirit, of the religion she professed, she knew
of no balm that could heal a wound of such bitterness—she saw no
light that could have guided her to comfort. Highly as she prized
youth and its enjoyments, its hopes, and its ties, much as she
sparkled in company, and revelled in the admiration she excited, so
much did she feel the reverse to be dark and hard to bear. She
pictured Amy passing, in one five minutes, from her joyous
youthfulness, with its light laugh, and bounding glee, to the trials of
sickness which she might never more escape; probably, too, the
highly intellectual child becoming only the feeble-minded woman,
weakened by disease and suffering, and cut off from all those
endearing ties so prized by a woman's heart. As these thoughts
passed slowly, and impressively before her—she covered her face
with her hands, and wept long and bitterly.
CHAPTER XI.
Oh, how much more doth beauty beauteous
seem,
By that sweet ornament which truth doth
give.
The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem,
For that sweet odour which doth in it live.
Shakspeare's Sonnet.
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