think, unless it's Ireland, and the only difference atween
them two is that it rains every day amost in England,
and in Ireland it rains every day and every night too.
It's awful, and you must keep out of a country-house in
such weather, or you'll go for it; it will kill you,
that's sartain. I shall never forget a juicy day I once
spent in one of them dismal old places. I'll tell you
how I came to be there.

"The last time I was to England, I was a dinin' with our
consul to Liverpool, and a very gentleman-like old man
he was too; he was appointed by Washington, and had been
there ever since our glorious revolution. Folks gave him
a great name, they said he was a credit to us. Well, I
met at his table one day an old country squire, that
lived somewhere down in Shropshire, close on to Wales,
and says he to me, arter cloth was off and cigars on,
'Mr. Slick,' says he, 'I'll be very glad to see you to
Norman Manor,' (that was the place where he staid, when
he was to home). 'If you will return with me I shall be
glad to shew you the country in my neighbourhood, which
is said to be considerable pretty.'

"'Well,' says I, 'as I have nothin' above particular to
see to, I don't care if I do go.'

"So off we started; and this I will say, he was as kind
as he cleverly knew how to be, and that is sayin' a great
deal for a man that didn't know nothin' out of sight of
his own clearin' hardly.