1 I bid the trembling and bewildered child get down, and enter.
2 She beat Hareton, or any child, at a good passionate fit of crying.
3 As the girl had anticipated, the child Hareton fell wholly into my hands.
4 I cried out that he would frighten the child into fits, and ran to rescue him.
5 No mother could have nursed an only child more devotedly than Edgar tended her.
6 However, I will say this, he was the quietest child that ever nurse watched over.
7 Exhaustion of body had entirely subdued her spirit: our fiery Catherine was no better than a wailing child.
8 This endurance made old Earnshaw furious, when he discovered his son persecuting the poor fatherless child, as he called him.
9 By the fire stood a ruffianly child, strong in limb and dirty in garb, with a look of Catherine in his eyes and about his mouth.
10 I was a child; my father was just buried, and my misery arose from the separation that Hindley had ordered between me and Heathcliff.
11 Though I would give no information, he discovered, through some of the other servants, both her place of residence and the existence of the child.
12 Linton had slid from his seat on to the hearthstone, and lay writhing in the mere perverseness of an indulged plague of a child, determined to be as grievous and harassing as it can.
13 And, perhaps, not quite awake to what he did, but attracted like a child to a candle, at last he proceeded from staring to touching; he put out his hand and stroked one curl, as gently as if it were a bird.
14 I was surprised to witness how coolly the child gathered himself up, and went on with his intention; exchanging saddles and all, and then sitting down on a bundle of hay to overcome the qualm which the violent blow occasioned, before he entered the house.
15 I could not picture a father treating a dying child as tyrannically and wickedly as I afterwards learned Heathcliff had treated him, to compel this apparent eagerness: his efforts redoubling the more imminently his avaricious and unfeeling plans were threatened with defeat by death.
16 The pettishness that might be caressed into fondness, had yielded to a listless apathy; there was less of the peevish temper of a child which frets and teases on purpose to be soothed, and more of the self-absorbed moroseness of a confirmed invalid, repelling consolation, and ready to regard the good-humoured mirth of others as an insult.