kept her, for some seconds, in that
attitude. 'Villain, ass, traitor!'

'Drat the man!' cried the nurse, looking angrily around. 'What does he
mean by making that noise here?'

'Silence, woman!' said Mr Kenwigs, fiercely.

'I won't be silent,' returned the nurse. 'Be silent yourself, you
wretch. Have you no regard for your baby?'

'No!' returned Mr Kenwigs.

'More shame for you,' retorted the nurse. 'Ugh! you unnatural monster.'

'Let him die,' cried Mr Kenwigs, in the torrent of his wrath. 'Let him
die! He has no expectations, no property to come into. We want no babies
here,' said Mr Kenwigs recklessly. 'Take 'em away, take 'em away to the
Fondling!'

With these awful remarks, Mr Kenwigs sat himself down in a chair, and
defied the nurse, who made the best of her way into the adjoining room,
and returned with a stream of matrons: declaring that Mr Kenwigs had
spoken blasphemy against his family, and must be raving mad.

Appearances were certainly not in Mr Kenwigs's favour, for the exertion
of speaking with so much vehemence, and yet in such a tone as should
prevent his lamentations reaching the ears of Mrs Kenwigs, had made him
very black in the face; besides which, the excitement of the occasion,
and an unwonted indulgence in various strong cordials to celebrate it,
had swollen and dilated his features to a most unusual extent. But,
Nicholas and the doctor--who had been passive at first, doubting very
much whether Mr Kenwigs could be in earnest--interfering to explain the
immediate cause of his condition, the indignation of the matrons was
changed to pity, and they implored him, with much feeling, to go quietly
to bed.

'The attention,' said Mr Kenwigs, looking around with a plaintive air,
'the attention that I've shown to that man! The hyseters he has eat, and
the pints of ale he has drank, in this house--!'

'It's very trying, and very hard to bear, we know,' said one of the
married ladies; 'but think of your dear darling wife.'

'Oh yes, and what she's been a undergoing of, only this day,' cried a
great many voices. 'There's a good man, do.'

'The presents that have been made to him,' said Mr Kenwigs, reverting
to his calamity, 'the pipes, the snuff-boxes--a pair of india-rubber
goloshes, that cost six-and-six--'

'Ah! it won't bear thinking of, indeed,' cried the matrons generally;
'but it'll all come home to him, never fear.'

Mr Kenwigs looked darkly upon the ladies, as if he would prefer its a