there was
nothing like a thoroughbred un, a regular good old English gentleman,
one of the olden time! To which Fanny replied, that she thought Sir
Francis was an ojous creature--she didn't know why--but she couldn't
abear him--she was sure he was wicked, and low, and mean--she knew he
was; and when Sam to this replied that Sir Francis was very affable, and
had borrowed half a sov' of him quite kindly, Fanny burst into a
laugh, pulled Sam's long hair (which was not yet of irreproachable
cleanliness), patted his chin, and called him a stoopid, stoopid, old
foolish stoopid, and said that Sir Francis was always borrering money of
everybody, and that Mar had actially refused him twice, and had had to
wait three months to get seven shillings which he had borrowed of 'er.

"Don't say 'er but her, borrer but borrow, actially but actually,
Fanny," Mr. Huxter replied--not to a fault in her argument, but to
grammatical errors in her statement.

"Well then, her, and borrow, and hactually--there then, you stoopid,"
said the other; and the scholar made such a pretty face that the grammar
master was quickly appeased, and would have willingly given her a
hundred more lessons on the spot at the price which he took for that
one.

Of course Mrs. Bolton was by, and I suppose that Fanny and Dr. Sam were
on exceedingly familiar and confidential terms by this time, and that
time had brought to the former certain consolations, and soothed certain
regrets, which are deucedly bitter when they occur, but which are, no
more than tooth-pulling, or any other pang, eternal.

As you sit, surrounded by respect and affection; happy, honoured, and
flattered in your old age; your foibles gently indulged; your least
words kindly cherished; your garrulous old stories received for the
hundredth time with dutiful forbearance, and never-failing hypocritical
smiles; the women of your house constant in their flatteries; the
young men hushed and attentive when you begin to speak; the servants
awestricken; the tenants cap in hand, and ready to act in the place
of your worship's horses when your honour takes a drive--it has often
struck you, O thoughtful Dives! that this respect, and these glories,
are for the main part transferred, with your fee-simple, to your
successor--that the servants will bow, and the tenants shout, for your
son as for you; that the butler will fetch him the wine (improved by a
little keeping) that's now in your cellar; and that, when