Part 2 (1/2)

”'Oh cuss him, it was him then was it?'

”'What, Sir?'

”'That woke them confounded rooks up, out o' their fust nap, and kick't up such a bobbery. Where is the Parson?'

”'Which one, Sir?'

”'The one that's so fond of fis.h.i.+ng.'

”'Ain't up yet, Sir.'

”'Well, the old boy, that wore breeches.'

”Out on a sick visit to one of the cottages, Sir.'

”When he comes in, send him to me, I'm shockin' sick.'

”With that I goes to look arter the two pretty galls in the drawin'

room; and there was the ladies a chatterin' away like any thing. The moment I came in it was as dumb as a quaker's meetin'. They all hauled up at once, like a stage-coach to an inn-door, from a hand-gallop to a stock still stand. I seed men warn't wanted there, it warn't the custom so airly, so I polled out o' that creek, starn first. They don't like men in the mornin', in England, do the ladies; they think 'em in the way.

”'What on airth, shall I do?' says I, 'it's nothin' but rain, rain, rain--here in this awful dismal country. n.o.body smokes, n.o.body talks, n.o.body plays cards, n.o.body fires at a mark, and n.o.body trades; only let me get thro' this juicy day, and I am done: let me get out of this sc.r.a.pe, and if I am caught agin, I'll give you leave to tell me of it, in meetin'. It tante pretty, I do suppose to be a jawin' with the butler, but I'll make an excuse for a talk, for talk comes kinder nateral to me, like suction to a snipe.'

”'Waiter?'

”'Sir.'

”'Galls don't like to be tree'd here of a mornin' do they?'

”'Sir.'

”'It's usual for the ladies,' sais I, 'to be together in the airly part of the forenoon here, ain't it, afore the gentlemen jine them?'

”'Yes, Sir.'

”'It puts me in mind,' sais I, 'of the old seals down to Sable Island--you know where Sable Isle is, don't you?'

”'Yes, Sir, it's in the cathedral down here.'

”'No, no, not that, it's an island on the coast of Nova Scotia. You know where that is sartainly.'

”'I never heard of it, Sir.'

”'Well, Lord love you! you know what an old seal is?'

”'Oh, yes, sir, I'll get you my master's in a moment.'

And off he sot full chisel.

”Cus him! he is as stupid as a rook, that crittur, it's no use to tell him a story, and now I think of it, I will go and smoke them black imps of darkness,--the rooks.'