...ed to the page. It was a cold winter afternoon. I took the book to the parlor fire, and had there been seated an hour or two, when my father looked up and asked what I was reading so intently. Shakspeare , replied the child, merely raising her eye from the page. Shakspeare,—that won't do; that's no book for Sunday; go put it away and take another. I went as I was bid, but took no other. Re...