hat and wiping his forehead, 'I bless God (said he) that Mrs
Tabitha Bramble did not take the field today!' 'I would pit her
for a cool hundred (cried Quin) against the best shake-bag of the
whole main.' The truth is, nothing could have kept her at home
but the accident of her having taken physic before she knew the
nature of the entertainment. She has been for some days
furbishing up an old suit of black velvet, to make her appearance
as Sir Ulic's partner at the next ball.

I have much to say of this amiable kinswoman; but she has not
been properly introduced to your acquaintance. She is remarkably
civil to Mr Quin; of whose sarcastic humour she seems to stand in
awe; but her caution is no match for her impertinence. 'Mr Gwynn
(said she the other day) I was once vastly entertained with your
playing the Ghost of Gimlet at Drury-lane, when you rose up
through the stage, with a white face and red eyes, and spoke of
quails upon the frightful porcofine -- Do, pray, spout a little the
Ghost of Gimlet.' 'Madam (said Quin, with a glance of ineffable
disdain) the Ghost of Gimlet is laid, never to rise again' --
Insensible of this check, she proceeded: 'Well, to be sure, you
looked and talked so like a real ghost; and then the cock crowed
so natural. I wonder how you could teach him to crow so exact, in
the very nick of time; but, I suppose, he's game -- An't he game,
Mr Gwynn?' 'Dunghill, madam.' -- 'Well, dunghill, or not dunghill,
he has got such a clear counter-tenor, that I wish I had such
another at Brambleton-hall, to wake the maids of a morning. Do
you know where I could find one of his brood?' 'Probably in the
work-house at St Giles's parish, madam; but I protest I know not
his particular mew!' My uncle, frying with vexation, cried, 'Good
God, sister, how you talk! I have told you twenty times, that