there's a sick person in the
house?"

"Upon my word, the sick person's like to have all the house to himself,--
I have gone without my breakfast, and am like to go without my wig; and
I must not, I suppose, presume to say I feel either hunger or cold, for
fear of disturbing the sick gentleman who lies six rooms off, and who
feels himself well enough to send for his dog and gun, though he knows
I detest such implements ever since our elder brother, poor Williewald,
marched out of the world on a pair of damp feet, caught in the
Kittlefitting-moss. But that signifies nothing; I suppose I shall be
expected by and by to lend a hand to carry Squire Hector out upon his
litter, while he indulges his sportsmanlike propensities by shooting my
pigeons, or my turkeys--I think any of the ferae naturae are safe from
him for one while."

Miss M'Intyre now entered, and began to her usual morning's task of
arranging her uncle's breakfast, with the alertness of one who is too
late in setting about a task, and is anxious to make up for lost time.
But this did not avail her. "Take care, you silly womankind--that mum's
too near the fire--the bottle will burst; and I suppose you intend to
reduce the toast to a cinder as a burnt-offering for Juno, or what do
you call her--the female dog there, with some such Pantheon kind of
a name, that your wise brother has, in his first moments of mature
reflection, ordered up as a fitting inmate of my house (I thank him),
and meet company to aid the rest of the womankind of my household in
their daily conversation and intercourse with him."

"Dear uncle, don't be angry about the poor spaniel; she's been tied up
at my brother's lodgings at Fairport, and she's broke her chain twice,
and came running down here to him; and you would not have us beat the
faithful beast away from the door?--it moans as if it had some sense
of poor Hector's misfortune, and will hardly stir from the door of his
room."

"Why," said his uncle, "they said Caxon had gone to Fairport after his
dog and gun."

"O dear sir, no," answered Miss M'Intyre, "it was to fetch some
dressings that were wanted, and Hector only wished him to bring out his
gun, as he was going to Fairport at any rate."

"Well, then, it is not altogether so foolish a business, considering
what a mess of womankind have been about it--Dressings, quotha?--and who
is to dress my wig?--But I suppose Jenny will undertake"--continued the
old bachelor, looking at him