I hope and believe I am a quiet man. I will go farther. I KNOW I
am a quiet man. My constitution is tremulous, my voice was never
loud, and, in point of stature, I have been from infancy, small. I
have the greatest respect for Maria Jane's Mama. She is a most
remarkable woman. I honour Maria Jane's Mama. In my opinion she
would storm a town, single-handed, with a hearth-broom, and carry
it. I have never known her to yield any point whatever, to mortal
man. She is calculated to terrify the stoutest heart.

Still - but I will not anticipate.

The first intimation I had, of any preparations being in progress,
on the part of Maria Jane's Mama, was one afternoon, several months
ago. I came home earlier than usual from the office, and,
proceeding into the dining-room, found an obstruction behind the
door, which prevented it from opening freely. It was an
obstruction of a soft nature. On looking in, I found it to be a
female.

The female in question stood in the corner behind the door,
consuming Sherry Wine. From the nutty smell of that beverage
pervading the apartment, I have no doubt she was consuming a second
glassful. She wore a black bonnet of large dimensions, and was
copious in figure. The expression of her countenance was severe
and discontented. The words to which she gave utterance on seeing
me, were these, 'Oh, git along with you, Sir, if YOU please; me and
Mrs. Bigby don't want no male parties here!'

That female was Mrs. Prodgit.