pursued
that gentleman, 'for having been the means of spoiling this excursion;
but as I tell my friend, the beehive, the beehive. You projected a short
little continental trip, my dear friend, of course?'

Jonas maintained a dogged silence.

'May I die,' cried Montague, 'but I am shocked! Upon my soul I am
shocked. But that confounded beehive of ours in the city must be
paramount to every other consideration, when there is honey to be made;
and that is my best excuse. Here is a very singular old female dropping
curtseys on my right,' said Montague, breaking off in his discourse,
and looking at Mrs Gamp, 'who is not a friend of mine. Does anybody know
her?'

'Ah! Well they knows me, bless their precious hearts!' said Mrs Gamp,
'not forgettin' your own merry one, sir, and long may it be so! Wishin'
as every one' (she delivered this in the form of a toast or sentiment)
'was as merry, and as handsome-lookin', as a little bird has whispered
me a certain gent is, which I will not name for fear I give offence
where none is doo! My precious lady,' here she stopped short in her
merriment, for she had until now affected to be vastly entertained,
'you're too pale by half!'

'YOU are here too, are you?' muttered Jonas. 'Ecod, there are enough of
you.'

'I hope, sir,' returned Mrs Gamp, dropping an indignant curtsey, 'as no
bones is broke by me and Mrs Harris a-walkin' down upon a public wharf.
Which was the very words she says to me (although they was the last
I ever had to speak) was these: "Sairey," she says, "is it a public
wharf?" "Mrs Harris," I makes answer, "can you doubt it? You have know'd
me now, ma'am, eight and thirty year; and did you ever know me go, or
wish to go, where I was not made welcome, say the words." "No, Sairey,"
Mrs Harris says, "contrairy quite." And well she knows it too. I am but
a poor woman, but I've been sought after, sir, though you may not think
it. I've been knocked up at all hours of the night, and warned out by
a many landlords, in consequence of being mistook for Fire. I goes out
workin' for my bread, 'tis true, but I maintains my independency, with
your kind leave, and which I will till death. I has my feelins as a
woman, sir, and I have been a mother likeways; but touch a pipkin as
belongs to me, or make the least remarks on what I eats or drinks, and
though you was the favouritest young for'ard hussy of a servant-gal as
ever come into a house, either you leaves the place, or me. My ea