, according to the account of the
Irish woman who lodged the complaint."

"An _Irish_ woman! Mischief in her proper shape again. But, my word for
it, if it is my quondam friend Wheelwright, who is in the scrape, he
has not struck any body or thing--man, woman, or child."

"'Zactly so: that's just what he says; and as he has no friends, he
thinks you might stand by him in a pinch, if you knew as how he has
been in the lock-up half the night, and has now been walked off to
Bridewell."

This was a far less agreeable call upon my attention and services than
I had ever had the honor of receiving from him before; but still,
knowing the honesty of the man, and his pacific character, and fully
believing in his representations of innocence, I at once determined to
inquire into the circumstances of the case, and, if necessary, make
another effort in his behalf.

The investigation resulted as I had anticipated. The unfortunate
husband now opened his heart, and poured out all his domestic sorrows
and tribulations before me. He needed not to tell me that he had not
married a fortune, as he had supposed, when I first saw him in the
hey-day of his honey-moon; but from the simple tale now unfolded, it
seemed that, on the contrary, he had been wedded to Mis-fortune, and
all her progeny. The rather turbulent lady of Socrates--(unless Mrs.
Xantippe was scandalized by her neighbors)--was a sweet-tempered dame,
and "gentle as a sucking dove," in comparison with the vixen who had
been harassing his life and soul away for years. The only peaceable
hours of his existence were those in which she was too much fatigued
with liquor to annoy him. When awake and sober, her temper was little
better, and her tormenting tongue seemed to have been hung in the
middle, so that it might run at both ends. It is related of Foote, the
comedian, that when once suffering from the tongue of a shrew, he
replied--"I have heard of _Tartars_, and _Brimstones_, madam; and by
Jove you are the _cream_ of the one, and the _flour_ of the other." And
next to the Grecian lady above mentioned, the Tartar who bearded Foote,
seemed, in my view, to be the only parallel of Mistress Wheelwright, of
which the books give any account.

How few can bear prosperity! Indeed, although we all covet it so much,
the examples of those ruined by sudden reverses of fortune, would
probably present a greater number of those who have been raised from
poverty to wealth, than of those who h