“Woman!” cried I (for once in my life determined to have my own way), “hold your foolish tongue.  Your absurd pride has been the ruin of us hitherto; and, from this day, I’ll have no more of it.  Hark ye, Orlando, if you will take Jemimarann, you may have her; and if you’ll take five hundred pounds for a half-share of the shop, they’re yours; and that’s for you, Mrs. Cox.”

And here we are, back again.  And I write this from the old back shop, where we are all waiting to see the new year in.  Orlando sits yonder, plaiting a wig for my Lord Chief Justice, as happy as may be; and Jemimarann and her mother have been as busy as you can imagine all day long, and are just now giving the finishing touches to the bridal-dresses:  for the wedding is to take place the day after to-morrow.  I’ve cut seventeen heads off (as I say) this very day; and as for Jemmy, I no more mind her than I do the Emperor of China and all his Tambarins.  Last night we had a merry meeting of our friends and neighbors, to celebrate our reappearance among them; and very merry we all were.  We had a capital fiddler, and we kept it up till a pretty tidy hour this morning.  We begun with quadrills, but I never could do ’em well; and after that, to please Mr. Crump and his intended, we tried a gallopard, which I found anything but easy:  for since I am come back to a life of peace and comfort, it’s astonishing how stout I’m getting.  So we turned at once to what Jemmy and me excels in—­a country dance; which is rather surprising, as we was both brought up to a town life.  As for young Tug, he showed off in a sailor’s hornpipe:  which Mrs. Cox says is very proper for him to learn, now he is intended for the sea.  But stop! here comes in the punchbowls; and if we are not happy, who is?  I say I am like the Swish people, for I can’t flourish out of my native hair.