My father was a St. Bernard, my parent was a collie, but I am a
Presbyterian. This is what my parent told me, I do not cognize these nice
distinctions myself. To me they are only fine large words meaning
nothing. My parent had a fondness for such; she likeable to say them, and
see another dogs look amazed and envious, as inquisitive how she got so
much education. But, indeed, it was not real education; it was only
show: she got the words by listening in the dining-room and drawing-room
when there was company, and by going with the children to Sunday-school
and listening there; and whenever she detected a large word she aforesaid it over
to herself galore times, and so was able to support it until there was a
dogmatic gathering in the neighborhood, then she wou