der._) Here,
Ponder, take this letter to farmer Flail's, and if you see Mrs. Muddle,
his neighbour, give my love and duty to her.

_Ponder._ Yes, yes, sir; but at that moment, sir, I was immersed in
thought, if I may be allowed the expression; I was thinking of the vast
difference between love and law, and yet how neatly you've spliced them
together in your last instructions to your humble servant, Peter Ponder,
clerk.--Umph!

_O'Ded._ Umph! is that your manners, you bear-garden? Will I never be
able to larn you to behave yourself? Study _me_, and talk like a
gentleman, and be damn'd to ye.

_Ponder._ I study the law; I can't talk it.

_O'Ded._ Cant you? Then you'll never do. If your tongue don't run faster
than your client's, how will you ever be able to bother him, you booby?

_Ponder._ I'll draw out his case; he shall read, and he'll bother
himself.

_O'Ded._ You've a notion. Mind my instructions, and I don't despair of
seeing you at the bar one day. Was that copy of a writ sarved yesterday
upon Garble, the tailor?

_Ponder._ Aye.

_O'Ded._ And sarve him right too. That's a big rogue, that runs in debt
wid his eyes open, and though he has property, refuses to pay. Is he
safe?

_Ponder._ He was bailed by Swash the brewer.

_O'Ded._ And was the other sarved on Shuttle, the weaver?

_Ponder._ Aye.

_O'Ded._ Who bailed him?

_Ponder._ Nobody. He's gone to jail.

_O'Ded._ Gone to jail! Why _his_ poverty is owing to misfortune. He
can't pay. Well, that's not our affair. The law must have its course.

_Ponder._ So Shuttle said to his wife, as she hung crying on his
shoulder.

_O'Ded._ That's it; he's a sensible man; and that's more than his wife
is. We've nothing to do with women's tears.

_Ponder._ Not a bit. So they walked him off to jail in a jiffey, if I
may be allowed the expression.

_O'Ded._ To be sure, and that was right. They did their duty: though for
sartin, if a poor man can't pay his debts when he's at liberty, he wont
be much nearer the mark when he's shut up in idleness in a prison.

_Ponder._ No.

_O'Ded._ And when he that sent them there comes to make up his last
account, 'tis my belief that he wont be able to show cause why a bill
shouldn't be filed against him for barbarity. Are the writings all ready
for sir Rowland?

_Ponder._ All ready. Shall I now go to farmer Flail's with the letter?

_O'Ded._ Aye, and if you see Shuttle's wife in your way, give my service
to her; and d