d luck, he can get as a great
favour, to conciliate his countrymen. No, Minister,' sais you, 'you are
a clever man, every body sais you are a brick; and if you ain't, you
talk more like one, than any body I have seen this while past. I don't
want no office myself, if I did p'raps, I wouldn't talk about patronage
this way; but I am a colonist, I want to see the colonists remain so.
They _are_ attached to England, that is a fact, keep them so, by making
them Englishmen. Throw the door wide open; patronise them; enlist them
in the imperial sarvice, allow them a chance to contend for honours and
let them win them, if they can. If they don't, it's their own fault, and
cuss 'em they ought to be kicked, for if they ain't too lazy, there is
no mistake in 'em, that's a fact. The country will be proud of them, if
they go ahead. Their language will change then. It will be _our_ army,
the delighted critters will say, not the English army; _our_ navy, _our_
church, _our_ parliament, _our_ aristocracy, &c., and the word English
will be left out holus-bolus, and that proud, that endearin' word
"our" will be insarted. Do this, and you will shew yourself the first
statesman of modern times. You'll rise right up to the top of the pot,
you'll go clean over Peel's head, as your folks go over ourn, not by
jumpin' over him, but by takin' him by the neck and squeezin' him
down. You 'mancipated the blacks, now liberate the colonists and make
Englishmen of them, and see whether the goneys won't grin from ear to
ear, and shew their teeth, as well as the niggers did. Don't let
Yankee clockmakers, (you may say that if you like, if it will help your
argument,) don't let travellin' Yankee clockmakers tell such stories,
against _your_ justice and _our_ pride as that of the Prince de
Joinville and his horse.'"

CHAPTER VII. LIFE IN THE COUNTRY.

"Here," said Mr. Sick, "is an invitation for you and me, and minister to
go and visit Sir Littleeared Bighead, down to Yorkshire. You can go if
you like, and for once, p'raps it's worth goin' to see how these chaps
first kill time, and then how time kills them in turn. Eatin',
drinkin', sleepin', growlin', fowlin', and huntin' kills time; and
gout, aperplexy, dispepsy, and blue devils kills them. They are like two
fightin' dogs, one dies of the thrashin' he gets, and t'other dies of
the wounds he got a killin' of him. Tit for tat; what's sarce for the
goose, is sarce for the gander.

"If you want to g