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Humph. No, you don't.

Sir Rob Don't I? Why not?

Humph. Because it's charity.

Sir Rob. Pshaw,* then. Well, we must not neglect the business, if there be any distress in the parish; read the list, Humphrey.

(Humphrey takes out a paper and reads.) "Jonathan Huggins of Muck Mead is put in prison."

Sir Rob. Why, it was only last week that Gripe, the attorney,trecovered two cottages for him by law, worth sixty pounds. Humph. And charged a hundred for his trouble; so seiz'd the cottages för part of his bill, and threw Jonathan into jail

for the remainder.

Sir Rob. A harpy! I must relieve the
Fred. And I must kick his attorney.

poor fellow's distress.

Humph. (reading.) "The curate's horse is dead."
Sir Rob. Pshaw-there's no distress in that.

Humph. Yes, there is, to a man that must go twenty miles every Sunday to preach, for thirty pounds a year.

Sir Rob. Why won't the vicars give him another nag? Humph. Because 'tis cheaper to get another curate ready mounted.

Sir Rob. Well, send him the black pad which I purchased ast Tuesday, and tell him to work him as long as he lives.What else have we upon the list?

Humph. Somewhat out of the common-there's one lieutenant Worthington, a disabled officer, and a widower, come to lodge at farmer Harrowby's in the village; he is, it seems, very poor, but more proud than poor, and more honest than proud. Sir Rob. And so he sends to me for assistance!

Humph. No, he'd sooner die than ask you or any man for a shilling! there's his daughter, and his dead wife's aunt, and an old corporal that has served in the wars with him—he keeps them all upon half pay.

Sir Rob. Starves them all, I'm afraid, Humphrey.

Fred. (going.) Good morning, uncle.'

Sir Rob. You rogue, where are you running now?
Fred. To talk to lieutenant Worthington.

Sir Rob. And what may you be going to say to him?

*Pronounced shaw.

† Pronounced at-tur'-ne.

Harpy, a fabulous winged monster, noted for its voraciousness and pol lution.

Curate, a clergyman employed in the place of a vicar § Pronounced vic'-ar, the priest of a parish.

Fred. I can't tell 'till I encounter him, and then, uncle, when I have an old gentleman by the hand who is disabled ir his country's service, and struggling to support his motherless child, a poor relation, and a faithful servant, in honorable indigence, impulse will supply me with words to express my

sentiments.

Sir Rob. Stop, you rogue, I must be before you in this business.

Fred. That depends upon who can run fastest; so start fair, uncle, and here goes-(runs out.)

Sir Rob. Stop, stop; why, Frederick-a jackanapes-to take my department out of my hands. I'll disinherit the dog for his assurance.

Humph. No, you won't.

Sir Rob. Won't I? Hang me if-but, we'll argue that pot as we go. So, come along, Humphrey.

LESSON XXXVII.

¡Exeunt.

Scene between Captain Tackle and Jack Bowlin.

Bowl. Good day to your honor.

Capt. Good day, honest Jack.

Bowl. To-day is my captain's birth-day.

Capt. I know it.

Bowl. I am heartily glad on the occasion.

Capt. I know that too.

Bowl. Yesterday your honor broke your sea-foam pipe. Capt. Well, sir booby, and why must I be put in mind of it? it was stupid enough to be sure, but hark ye, Jack, all men at times do stupid actions, but I never met with one who liked to be reminded of them.

Bowl. I meant no harm, your honor. It was only a kind of introduction to what I was going to say. I have been buying this pipe-head and ebony-tube, and if the thing is not too bad, and my captain will take such a present on his birth-day, for the sake of poor old Jack

Capt. Is that what you would be at-Come, let's see.

Bowl. To be sure, it is not sea-foam; but my captain must think, when he looks at it, that the love of old Jack was not mere foam neither.

Capt. Give it here, my honest fellow.

Bowl. You will take it?

Capt. To be sure I will.

Bowl. And will smoke it?

Capt. That I will (feeling in his pocket.)

Bowl. And will not think of giving me any thing in return? Capt. (Withdrawing his hand from his pocket.) No, noYou are right.

Bowl. Huzza! now let mother Grimkin bake her almond cakes out of her daily pilferings and be hanged.

Capt. Fie, Jack!hat's that you say!

Bowl. The truth. I have just come from the kitchen, where she is making a great palaver about "her cake" and "her cake," and yet this morning she must be put in mind that it was her master's birth-day. Hang me, I have thought of nothing else this month.

Capt. And because you have a better memory, you must blame the poor woman. Shame on you.

Bowl. Please your honor, she is an old-
Capt. Avast!

Bowl. Yesterday she made your wine cordial of sour beer, so to-day she makes you an almond cake of

Capt. Hold your tongue, sir.

Bowl. A'nt you obliged to beg the necessaries of life as if she were a pope or admiral? and last year when you were bled, though she had laid up chest upon chest full of linen, and all your's if the truth was known, yet no bandage was found till I tore the spare canvass from my Sunday shirt to rig your honor's

arm.

Capt. You are a scandalous fellow, (throws the pipe back to him,) away with you and your pipe.

Bowl. (Looking attentively at his master and the pipe. I am a scandalous fellow ?

Capt. Yes!

Bowl. Your honor will not have the pipe?

Capt. No; I will take nothing from him who would raise his own character at the expense of another old servant. (Jack takes up the pipe and throws it out of the window.) What are you doing?

Bowl. Throwing the pipe out of the window.

Capt. Are you mad?

Bowl. Why, what should I do with it? You will not have it, and it is impossible for me to use it, for as often as I should puff away the smoke, I should think, "Old Jack Bowlin, what a pitiful scamp you must be, a man whom you have served honestly and truly these thirty years, and who must know you from stem to stern, says you are a scandalous fellow," and toe

is gone,

thought would make me weep like a child. But when the pipe I shall try to forget the whole business, and say to my. self, "my poor old captain is sick, and does not mean what he said."

Capt. Jack, come here. (Takes his hand.) I did not mean what I said.

Bowl. (Shakes his hand heartily.) I knew it, I knew it. I have you and your honor at heart, and when I see such an old hypocritical bell-wether cheating you out of your hare earned wages, it makes my blood boil

Capt. Are you at it again? Shame on you. You have open ed your heart to-day, and given me a peep into its lowest hold Bowl. So much the better! for you will then see that my ballast is love and truth to my master. But hark ye, master it is certainly worth your while to enquire into the business.

Capt. And hark ye, fellow, if I find you have told me a lie I'll have no mercy on you. I'll turn you out of doors to starve in the street.

Bowl. No, captain, you won't do that.

Capt. But I tell you I will, though. I will do it. And i you say another word I'll do it now.

Bowl. Well, then away goes Jack to the hospital.

Capt. What's that you say? hospital! hospital! you rascal what will you do there?

Bowl. Die.

Capt. And so you will go and die in an hospital, will you? Why-why-you lubber, do you think I can't take care of you after I have turned you out of doors, hey?

Bowl. Yes, I dare say you would be willing to pay my board, and take care that I did not want in my old days, but I would sooner beg than pick up money so thrown at me. Capt. Rather beg! there's a proud rascal!

Bowl. He that don't love me must not give me money. Capt. Do you hear that? Is not this enough to give a sound man the gout. You sulky fellow, do you recollect twenty years ago, when we fell into the clutches of the Algerines." The pirates stripped me of my last jacket, but you, you lubber, who was it hid two pieces of gold in his hair, and who was it that half a year afterwards, when we were ransomed and turned naked on the world, shared his money and clothes with me? Hey, fellow, and now you would die in a hospital.

Bowl. Nay but captain

* Algerines, natives of Algiers, a city and government on the coast of Africa.

Capt. And when my ship's crew mutinied, at the risk of his life he disclosed the plot. Have you forgotten it, you lubber? Bowl. Well, and didn't you build my old mother a house for it?

Capt. And when we had boarded the French privateer,* and the captain's hangert hung over my head, didn't you strike off the arm that was going to split my skull! Have you forgot that too? Have I built you a house for that? Will you die in a hospital now-you ungrateful dog! hey?

Bowl. My good old master!

Capt. Would you have it set on my tomb stone, "here lies an unthankful hound, who let his preserver and mess-mate die in a hospital," would you? Tell me this minute you will live and die by me, you lubber! Come here and give me your hand! Bowl. (Going towards him.) My noble, noble master. Capt. Avast. Stand off, take care of my lame leg; yet I had rather you should hurt that than my heart, my old boy.(Shakes his hand heartily.) Now go and bring me the pipe. Stop, let me lean on you, and I will go down and get it myself, and use it on my birth-day. You would die in an hospital, would you, you unfeeling lubber?

LESSON XXXVIII.

The Gentleman and his Tenant.

1. A COUNTRY gentleman had an estate of two hundred poundst a year, which he kept in his own hands till he found himself so much in debt, that he was obliged to sell one half to satisfy his creditors, and let the remainder to a farmer for one and twenty years.

2. Before the expiration of his lease, the farmer asked the gentleman, when he came one day to pay his rent, whether he would sell the land he occupied. "Why, will you purchase it?" said the gentleman. "If you will part with it, and we can agree," replied the farmer.

3. "That is exceeding strange," said the gentleman. "Pray, tell me how it happens, that I could not live upon twice as much

* Privateer, a ship, or vessel of war, owned and fitted out by a private man, or individuals, and commissioned by government to seize the ships of an enemy in war.

+ Hanger, a short broad sword.

A pound sterling is four dollars forty-four cents-200 pounds is 888 dollars.

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