w man.

I looked around me: the kitchen had been deserted by the greater part of
the guests; besides myself, only four remained; these were seated at the
farther end. One was haranguing fiercely and eagerly; he was abusing
England, and praising America. At last he exclaimed, "So when I gets to
New York, I will toss up my hat, and damn the King."

That man must be a Radical, thought I.

CHAPTER LXXXVIII.

A Radical--Simple-Looking Man--Church of England--The
President--Aristocracy--Gin and Water--Mending the Roads--Persecuting
Church--Simon de Montford--Broken Bells--Get Up--Not for the Pope--Quay
of New York--Mumpers' Dingle--No Wish to Fight--First Draught--A Poor
Pipe--Half-a-crown Broke.

The individual whom I supposed to be a Radical, after a short pause,
again uplifted his voice; he was rather a strong-built fellow of about
thirty, with an ill-favoured countenance, a white hat on his head, a
snuff-coloured coat on his back, and when he was not speaking, a pipe in
his mouth. "Who would live in such a country as England?" he shouted.

"There is no country like America--" said his nearest neighbour, a man
also in a white hat, and of a very ill-favoured countenance--"there is no
country like America," said he, withdrawing a pipe from his mouth, "I
think I shall--" and here he took a draught from a jug, the contents of
which he appeared to have in common with the other,--"go to America one
of these days myself."

"Poor old England is not such a bad country, after all," said a third, a
simple-looking man in a labouring dress, who sat smoking a pipe without
anything before him. "If there was but a little more work to be got I
should have nothing to say against her. I hope, however--"

"You hope, who cares what you hope?" interrupted the first, in a savage
tone; "you are one of those sneaking hounds who are satisfied with dog's
wages, a bit of bread and a kick. Work, indeed, who, with the spirit of
a man, would work for a country where there is neither liberty of speech,
nor of action, a land full of beggarly aristocracy, hungry
borough-mongers, insolent parsons, and 'their wives and daughters,' as
William Cobbett says, in his 'Register.'"

"Ah, the Church of England has been a source of incalculable mischief to
these realms," said another.

The person who uttered these words sat rather aloof from the rest; he was
dressed in a long black surtout. I could not see much of his face,
partly owing to