d then there's seven children to do for--two is down with the measles,
And t'others, poor things! is half starved, and as thin as weazles;
And then missus sells all the kitchen stuff!--(you don't know my trials!)
And takes all the money I get at the rag-shop for the vials!

SALLY.
Vell! I could'nt stand that!--If I was you, I'd soon give her warning.

BETTY.
She's saved me the trouble, by giving me notice this morning. But--hush!
I hear master bawling out for his shaving water--
Jist tell your missus from me, mine's everythink as she thought her!

SCENE V.

"How does it fit behind? O! beautful; I've done wonders--we'll never
trouble the tailors again, I promise them."

It is the proud boast of some men that they have 'got a wrinkle.' How
elated then ought this individual to be who has got so many! and yet,
judging from the fretful expression of his physiognomy, one would suppose
that he is by no means in 'fit' of good humour.

His industrious rib, however, appears quite delighted with her handiwork,
and in no humour to find the least fault with the loose habits of her
husband. He certainly looks angry, as a man naturally will when his
'collar' is up.

She, on the other hand, preserves her equanimity in spite of his
unexpected frowns, knowing from experience that those who sow do not
always reap; and she has reason to be gratified, for every beholder will
agree in her firm opinion, that even that inimitable ninth of
ninths--Stulz, never made such a coat!

In point of economy, we must allow some objections may be made to the
extravagant waist, while the cuffs she has bestowed on him may probably
be a fair return (with interest) of buffets formerly received.

The tail (in two parts) is really as amusing as any 'tale' that ever
emanated from a female hand. There is a moral melancholy about it that
is inexpressibly interesting, like two lovers intended for each other,
and that some untoward circumstance has separated; they are 'parted,' and
yet are still 'attached,' and it is evident that one seems 'too long' for
the other.

The 'goose' generally finishes the labours of the tailor. Now, some
carping critics may be wicked enough to insinuate that this garb too was
finished by a goose! The worst fate I can wish to such malignant
scoffers is a complete dressing from this worthy dame; and if she does
not make the wisest of them look ridiculous, then, and not till then,
will I abjure my faith in