city in an omlibuster.

One would have thought, I say, that Mrs. A., with such an
effeckshnut husband, might have been as happy as her blessid
majisty. Nothing of the sort. For the fust six months it was all
very well; but then she grew gloomier and gloomier, though A. did
everythink in life to please her.

Old Shum used to come reglarly four times a wick to Cannon Row,
where he lunched, and dined, and teed, and supd. The pore little
man was a thought too fond of wine and spirits; and many and many's
the night that I've had to support him home. And you may be sure
that Miss Betsy did not now desert her sister: she was at our place
mornink, noon, and night; not much to my mayster's liking, though
he was too good-natured to wex his wife in trifles.

But Betsy never had forgotten the recollection of old days, and
hated Altamont like the foul feind. She put all kind of bad things
into the head of poor innocent missis; who, from being all gayety
and cheerfulness, grew to be quite melumcolly and pale, and
retchid, just as if she had been the most misrable woman in the
world.

In three months more, a baby comes, in course, and with it old Mrs.
Shum, who stuck to Mrs.' side as close as a wampire, and made her
retchider and retchider. She used to bust into tears when Altamont
came home: she used to sigh and wheep over the pore child, and say,
"My child, my child, your father is false to me;" or, "your father
deceives me;" or "what will you do when your pore mother is no
more?" or such like sentimental stuff.