smother her. Mr. A. and Miss Mary skipped on and was out of sight
when Miss Betsy's cloak was settled, you may be sure.

"They're only gone to the fly, miss. It's a little way up the
street, away from the crowd of carridges." And off we turned TO
THE RIGHT, and no mistake.

After marchin a little through the plash and mud, "Has anybody seen
Coxy's fly?" cries I, with the most innocent haxent in the world.

"Cox's fly!" hollows out one chap. "Is it the vaggin you want?"
says another. "I see the blackin wan pass," giggles out another
gentlmn; and there was such a hinterchange of compliments as you
never heerd. I pass them over though, because some of 'em were not
wery genteel.

"Law, miss," said I, "what shall I do? My master will never
forgive me; and I haven't a single sixpence to pay a coach." Miss
Betsy was just going to call one when I said that; but the coachman
wouldn't have it at that price, he said, and I knew very well that
SHE hadn't four or five shillings to pay for a wehicle. So, in the
midst of that tarin rain, at midnight, we had to walk four miles,
from Westminster Bridge to Pentonwille; and what was wuss, I DIDN'T
HAPPEN TO KNOW THE WAY. A very nice walk it was, and no mistake.

At about half-past two, we got safe to John Street. My master was
at the garden gate. Miss Mary flew into Miss Betsy's arms, while
master begun cussin and swearing at me for disobeying his orders,
and TURNING TO THE RIGHT INSTEAD OF TO THE LEFT! Law bless me! his
hacting of hanger was very near as natral and as terrybl as Mr.