o, Minister will go with you; but hang me if I do. The
only thing is, it'll puzzle you to get him away, if he gets down there.
You never see such a crotchical old critter in your life as he is. He
flies right off the handle for nothin'. He goes strayin' away off in the
fields and gullies, a browsin' about with a hammer, crackin' up bits of
stones like walnuts, or pickin' up old weeds, faded flowers, and what
not; and stands starin' at 'em for ever so long, through his eye-glass,
and keeps a savin' to himself, 'Wonderful provision of natur!' Airth and
seas! what does he mean? How long would a man live on such provision, I
should like to know, as them bitter yarbs.

"Well, then, he'll jist as soon set down and jaw away by the hour
together with a dirty-faced, stupid little poodle lookin' child, as
if it was a nice spry little dog he was a trainin' of for treein'
partridges; or talk poetry with the galls, or corn-law with the
patriots, or any thing. Nothin' comes amiss to him.

"But what provokes me, is to hear him go blartin' all over the country
about home scenes, and beautiful landscape, and rich vardure. My sakes,
the vardure here is so deep, it looks like mournin'; it's actilly
dismal. Then there's no water to give light to the pictur, and no sun to
cheer it; and the hedges are all square; and the lime trees are as stiff
as an old gall that was once pretty, and has grow'd proud on the memory
of it.

"I don't like their landscape a bit, there ain't no natur in it. Oh! if
you go, take him along with you, for he will put you in consait of all
you see, except reform, dissent, and things o' that kind; for he is an
out and out old Tory, and thinks nothin' can be changed here for the
better, except them that don't agree with him.

"He was a warnin' you t'other day not to take all I said for Gospel
about society here; but you'll see who's right and who's wrong afore
you've done, I know. I described to you, when you returned from Germany,
_Dinin' out_ to London. Now I'll give you my opinion of "Life in the
Country." And fust of all, as I was a sayin', there is no such thing as
natur' here. Every thing is artificial; every thing of its kind alike;
and every thing oninterestin' and tiresome.

"Well, if London is dull, in the way of West Eend people, the country, I
guess, is a little mucher. Life in the country is different, of course,
from life in town; but still life itself is alike there, exceptin' again
_class difference