I wish so too, honest friend. But I'll be hanged if thou hast any
children.

Why so, Sir?

Hast thou?--Answer me, man: Hast thou, or not?

Perhaps not, Sir. But what of that?

What of that?--Why I'll tell thee: The man who has no children by his
wife must put up with plain John. Hadst thou a child or two, thou'dst be
called Mr. Smith, with a courtesy, or a smile at least, at every word.

You are very pleasant, Sir, replied my dame. I fancy, if either my
husband or I had as much to answer for as I know whom, we should not be
so merry.

Why then, dame Smith, so much the worse for those who were obliged to
keep you company. But I am not merry--I am sad!--Hey-ho!--Where shall I
find my dear Miss Harlowe?

My beloved Miss Harlowe! [calling at the foot of the third pair of
stairs,] if you are above, for Heaven's sake answer me. I am coming up.

Sir, said the good man, I wish you'd walk down. The servants' rooms, and
the working-rooms, are up those stairs, and another pair; and nobody's
there that you want.

Shall I go up, and see if Miss Harlowe be there, Mrs. Smith?