the things and have nothing made of them, whether indigestion or want
of appetite, turns one quite into the Negroes almost, that two or three
people go on with."

"I don't look at what he hath aten or left," Mr. Swipes made answer,
loftily; "that lieth between him and his own stommick. But what hath a'
left for me, ma'am? He hath looked out over the garden when he pleased,
and this time of year no weeds is up, and he don't know enough of things
to think nothing of them. When his chaise come down I was out by the
gate with a broom in my hand, and I pulled off my hat, but his eye never
seemed to lay hold of me."

"His eye lays hold of everything, whether he makes 'em feel or no.
One thing I'm sure of--he was quite up to Miss Dolly, and the way she
carries on with you know who, every blessed Sunday. If that is what they
go to church for--"

"But, my dear soul," said the genial Swipes, whose heart was enlarged
with the power of good beer, "when you and I was young folk, what did
we go to church for? I can't speak for you, ma'am, being ever so much
younger, and a baby in the gallery in long clothes, if born by that
time; but so far as myself goes, it was the girls I went to look at, and
most of 'em come as well to have it done to them."

"That never was my style, Mr. Swipes, though I know there were some not
above it. And amongst equals I won't say that there need be much harm
in it. But for a young man in the gallery, with a long stick of the
vile-base in his hand, and the only clean shirt of the week on his back,
and nothing but a plank of pitch to keep him, however good-looking he
may be, to be looking at the daughter, and the prettiest one too, though