rd.
Lord, if they had only a given her a pinch of snuff, when she was full
dressed and trussed, and sot her a sneezin', she'd a blowed up, and the
fortin would have come twenty years sooner.

"Yes, it's a family pictur, indeed, they are all family picture. They
are all fine animals, but over fed and under worked.

"Now it's up and take a turn in the gardens. There is some splendid
flowers on that slope. You and the galls go to look at 'em, and jist as
you get there, the grass is juicy from the everlastin' rain, and awful
slippy; up go your heels, and down goes stranger on the broad of his
back, slippin' and slidin' and coastin' right down the bank, slap over
the light mud-earth bed, and crushin' the flowers as flat as a pancake,
and you yaller ochered all over, clean away from the scruff of your
neck, down to the tip eend of your heel. The galls larf, the helps larf,
and the, bed-room maid larfs; and who the plague can blame them? Old
Marm don't larf though, because she is too perlite, and besides, she's
lost her flowers, and that's no larfin' matter; and you don't larf,
'cause you feel a little the nastiest you ever did, and jist as near
like a fool as to be taken for one, in the dark, that's a fact.

"Well, you renew the outer man, and try it agin, and it's look at the
stable and hosses with Sir Host, and the dogs, and the carriages,
and two American trees, and a peacock, and a guinea hen, and a gold
pheasant, and a silver pheasant, and all that, and then lunch. Who the
plague can eat lunch, that's only jist breakfasted?

"So away goes lunch, and off goes you and the 'Sir,' a trampousin' and a
trapsein' over the wet grass agin (I should like to know what ain't wet
in this country), and ploughed fields, and wide ditches chock full of
dirty water, if you slip in, to souse you most ridikelous; and over
gates that's nailed up, and stiles that's got no steps for fear of
thoroughfare, and through underwood that's loaded with rain-drops, away
off to tother eend of the estate, to see the most beautiful field of
turnips that ever was seen, only the flies eat all the plants up; and
then back by another path, that's slumpier than t'other, and twice
as long, that you may see an old wall with two broke-out winders, all
covered with ivy, which is called a ruin. And well named it is, too, for
I tore a bran new pair of trousers, most onhandsum, a scramblin' over
the fences to see it, and ruined a pair of shoes that was all squashe