rkets, making foolish
bargains in his cups, which he repents when he is sober; like a
thriftless wretch, spending the goods and gear that his forefathers
won with the sweat of their brows: light come, light go, he cares not a
farthing. But why should I stand surety for his contracts? The little I
have is free, and I can call it my awn--hame's hame, let it be never so
hamely. I ken him well enough, he could never abide me, and when he has
his ends he'll e'en use me as he did before. I'm sure I shall be treated
like a poor drudge--I shall be set to tend the bairns, darn the hose,
and mend the linen. Then there's no living with that old carline his
mother; she rails at Jack, and Jack's an honester man than any of her
kin: I shall be plagued with her spells and her Paternosters, and silly
old world ceremonies; I mun never pare my nails on a Friday, nor begin a
journey on Childermas Day; and I mun stand beeking and binging as I
gang out and into the hall. Tell him he may e'en gang his get; I'll have
nothing to do with him; I'll stay like the poor country mouse, in my awn
habitation." So Peg talked; but for all that, by the interposition of
good friends, and by many a bonny thing that was sent, and many more
that were promised Peg, the matter was concluded, and Peg taken into the
house upon certain articles:*** one of which was that she might have the
freedom of Jack's conversation, and might take him for better and for
worse if she pleased: provided always he did not come into the house at
unseasonable hours and disturb the rest of the old woman, John's mother.

* The Act of Succession.

** A Presbyterian Lord Mayor.

*** The Act of Toleration.

CHAPTER V. Of some Quarrels that happened after Peg was taken into the
Family.*

*Quarrels about some of the Articles of Union, particularly
the peerage.

It is an old observation that the quarrels of relations are harder to
reconcile than any other; injuries from friends fret and gall more,
and the memory of them is not so easily obliterated. This is cunningly
represented by one of your old sages called Aesop, in the story of the
bird that was grieved extremely at being wounded with an arrow feathered
with his own wing; as also of the oak that let many a heavy groan when
he was cleft with a wedge of his own timber.

There was no man in the world less subject to rancour than John Bull,
considering how often his good nature has been abused; yet I d