two such gentlemen as you.

Well said, dame Smith--but mean you good or bad?--Handsome was the least
I thought she would have said.

I leave you to guess, Sir.

Condemned, thought I, by myself, on this appeal.

Why, father Smith, thy wife is a wit, man!--Didst thou ever find that out
before?--But where is widow Lovick, dame Smith? My cousin John Belford
says she is a very good woman. Is she within? or is she gone with Miss
Harlowe too?

She will be within by-and-by, Sir. She is not with the lady.

Well, but my good dear Mrs. Smith, where is the lady gone? and when will
she return?

I can't tell, Sir.

Don't tell fibs, dame Smith; don't tell fibs, chucking her under the
chin: which made John's upper-lip, with chin shortened, rise to his nose.
--I am sure you know!--But here's another pair of stairs: let us see: Who
lives up there?--but hold, here's another room locked up, tapping at the
door--Who's at home? cried I.

That's Mrs. Lovick's apartment. She is gone out, and has the key with
her.

Widow Lovick! rapping again, I believe you are at home: pray open the
door.

John and Joseph muttered and whispered together.

No whispering, honest friends: 'tis not manners to whisper. Joseph, what
said John to thee?

JOHN! Sir, disdainfully repeated the good woman.

I beg pardon, Mrs. Smith: but you see the force of example. Had you
showed your honest man more respect, I should. Let me give you a piece
of advice--women who treat their husbands irreverently, teach strangers
to use them with contempt. There, honest master John; why dost not pull
off thy hat to me?--Oh! so thou wouldst, if thou hadst it on: but thou
never wearest thy hat in thy wife's presence, I believe; dost thou?

None of your fleers and your jeers, Sir, cried John. I wish every
married pair lived as happily as we do.

I wish so too, honest friend. But I'll be hanged if thou hast any
children.

Why so, Sir?

Hast thou?--Answer me, man: Hast thou, or not?

Perhaps not, Sir. But what of that?

What of that?--Why I'll tell thee: The man who has no children by his
wife must put up with plain John. Hadst thou a child or two, thou'dst be
called Mr. Smith, with a courtesy, or a smile at least, at every word.

You are very pleasant, Sir, replied my dame. I fancy, if either my
husband or I had as much to answer for as I know whom, we should not be
so merry.

Why then, dame Smith, so much the worse for those who were obliged to
ke