Wuthering Heights

taught you all those
evil words?”
    ‘ “That bugger Heathcliff,”
he said. I put an orange in his hand and bade him tell his father a woman
called Nelly Dean wanted to see him.
    ‘He stood at the door
shouting “Dad”. What came to the door was a woman in a blonde wig, with scarlet
lips and cheeks, a green satin gown, white stockings, black mid-calf button-up
boots. Lord help me, it was Mister Earnshaw! Then Heathcliff came out,
put his arm round Earnshaw and called him darling. And then I fainted.
    ‘All the stress of these
stormy occasions over Heathcliff gave Isabella and Cathy to contract a
psychomatic itch, Isabella on the buttocks and Cathy in the groins, it was very
embarrassing when they both scratched together. The next time Heathcliff came
he was wearing skin-tight trousers that revealed all. Isabella was feeding some
pigeons, I was standing in the kitchen window. Heathcliff went across to
Isabella but, because of his tight trousers, he had to walk stiff-legged while
propelling himself forward pressing his hands on his buttocks. At every step he
let out a grunt of exertion. He covered the distance between Isabella and him
with forty grunts. He gave her something wrapped in tissue paper tied with a
pink ribbon. She opened it, it was a chapatti. She started to feed it to the
pigeons, the weight of which kept them earthbound. Heathcliff looked around to
see if they were alone, then he kissed her, at which Miss Isabella immediately
started to scratch her buttocks. To Heathcliff it sounded like two pieces of
sandpaper rubbed together. Cathy came running in barefoot fresh from the moor.
“I heard scratching and thought I might help?” She pointed to Heathcliff.
    ‘Isabella ran away to
scratch herself. Heathcliff was coming across. Cathy had often come across.
“Hello, Cathy,” said he. “Fancy a poppadom?”
    ‘ “You must leave Isabella
alone,” she said scratching her own groins.
    ‘Mr Edgar, the nerd of
Thrushcross Grange came in. ‘ “Mr Heathcliff, I have overheard the scratching.
You must leave before we all get it.”
    ‘ “Try and make me,” said
Heathcliff.” So Edgar tried to make him. “You touch me and I’ll smash your
skull in,” said Heathcliff.
    ‘Three times Edgar attacked
Heathcliff with fisticuffs and three times Heathcliff smashed his skull in.
“Very well, if you won’t leave,” said Edgar, “I will”
    ‘So saying the battered
nerd went to Martell Three Star, a bargain at £8.
    ‘ “There, you’re done with
coming here,” said Cathy, scratching the raging itch in her groin.
    ‘Edgar told her in between
scratching, “You must choose between me and Heathcliff.”
    ‘ “I require to be alone,”
she shrieked.
    ‘Mr Edgar bade me bring
some water. I brought a jug, he threw it over her. In a few seconds she
stretched herself out stiff. I whispered to Mr Edgar not to worry, how she had
resolved to frighten him, by putting on a fit. He went and threw another jug of
water over her. He did this several times and each time she seemed to get
better.
    ‘Next morning she came not
down for breakfast.
    ‘ “Would you like some breakfast
brought up?”
    ‘ “No.”
    ‘The same at lunchtime.
“Would you like breakfast brought up?”
    “No.”
    ‘Same at dinner. “Would you
like breakfast brought up?”
    “No.”
    ‘Same at tea time. “Would
you like breakfast brought up?” We could hear ecstatic groans as she thought of
Heathcliff and scratched her groins. Edgar heard it and thought it was somebody
with a wire brush.’

Chapter
XII
    -----------
     
     
     
    FTER THREE days locked in her room, Cathy let me
in to tell me she was dying, but first she finished her breakfast, eggs, 
bacon, kidneys and toast, then she told me again that she was dying. She lay
back on her bed to show me how it was done. “Oh, I will die,” she exclaimed,
swallowing the last kidney. “No one cares about me,” she said, finishing off
the toast and marmalade. “No, wait! I’ve decided I will not die.”
    ‘ “Very good, m’am,” I
said. “Is there anything you would like before you start dying again?”
    ‘She started jumping up and
down on the bed. “Where is my nerd of a husband? Has he fallen into a
lethargy?”
    ‘ “Yes, m’am.” I informed
her he had fallen into a lethargy, it had taken eight of us to pull him
out. “He is in the library now reading books.”
    ‘ “Reading books?!!!!” she
flashed. “And here I am dying.”
    ‘ “Yes,” I