“‘Bewchus Lady Hangelina,’ says I—­’A penny for your Ladyship’s thought,’ says I.

“‘Ho, Jeames!  Ho, Mr. De la Pluche!’ hansered a well-known vice, with a haxnt of sadnis which went to my art.  ’You know what my thoughts are, well enough.  I was thinking of happy, happy old times, when both of us were poo—­poo—­oor,’ says Mary Hann, busting out in a phit of crying, a thing I can’t ebide.  I took her and tried to cumft her:  I pinted out the diffrents of our sitawashns; igsplained to her that proppaty has its jewties as well as its previletches, and that my juty clearly was to marry into a noble famly.  I kep on talking to her (she sobbing and going hon hall the time) till Lady Hangelina herself came up—­’The real Siming Pewer,’ as they say in the play.

“There they stood together—­them two young women.  I don’t know which is the ansamest.  I coodn help comparing them; and I coodnt help comparing myself to a certing Hannimle I’ve read of, that found it difficklt to make a choice betwigst 2 Bundles of A.”

“That ungrateful beest Fitzwarren—­my oan man—­a feller I’ve maid a fortune for—­a feller I give 100 lb. per hannum to!—­a low bred Wallydyshamber!  He must be thinking of falling in love too! and treating me to his imperence.

“He’s a great big athlatic feller—­six foot i, with a pair of black whiskers like air-brushes—­with a look of a Colonel in the harmy—­a dangerous pawmpus-spoken raskle I warrunt you.  I was coming ome from shuiting this hafternoon—­and passing through Lady Hangelina’s flour-garding, who should I see in the summerouse, but Mary Hann pretending to em an ankyshr and Mr. Fitzwarren paying his cort to her?

“‘You may as well have me, Mary Hann,’ says he.  ’I’ve saved money.  We’ll take a public-house and I’ll make a lady of you.  I’m not a purse-proud ungrateful fellow like Jeames—­who’s such a snob (’such a snob’ was his very words!) that I’m ashamed to wait on him—­who’s the laughing stock of all the gentry and the housekeeper’s room too—­try a man,’ says he—­’don’t be taking on about such a humbug as Jeames.’

“Here young Joe the keaper’s sun, who was carrying my bagg, bust out a laffing thereby causing Mr. Fitwarren to turn round and intarupt this polite convasation.

“I was in such a rayge.  ‘Quit the building, Mary Hann,’ says I to the young woman—­and you, Mr. Fitzwarren, have the goodness to remain.’

“‘I give you warning,’ roars he, looking black, blue, yaller—­all the colors of the ranebo.

“‘Take off your coat, you imperent, hungrateful scoundrl,’ says I.

“‘It’s not your livery,’ says he.

“‘Peraps you’ll understand me, when I take off my own,’ says I, unbuttoning the motherapurls of the MacWhirter tartn.  ’Take my jackit, Joe,’ says I to the boy,—­and put myself in a hattitude about which there was no MISTAYK.

*****

“He’s 2 stone heavier than me—­and knows the use of his ands as well as most men; but in a fite, BLOOD’S everythink:  the Snobb can’t stand before the gentleman; and I should have killed him, I’ve little doubt, but they came and stopt the fite betwigst us before we’d had more than 2 rounds.