ople do here. Do you know, in our country, a fellow's ears would not
be safe; and a little before I left home, three brothers shot down a
man, for having spoken ill of their sister."

"Serve the villain right!" cries Sampson.

"Already they have had that calumny about me set a-going here,
Sampson,--about me and the poor little French dancing-girl."

"I have heard," says Mr. Sampson, shaking powder out of his wig.

"Wicked; wasn't it?"

"Abominable."

"They said the very same thing about my Lord March. Isn't it shameful?"

"Indeed it is," says Mr. Sampson, preserving a face of wonderful
gravity.

"I don't know what I should do if these stories were to come to my
mother's ears. It would break her heart, I do believe it would. Why,
only a few days before you came, a military friend of mine, Mr. Wolfe,
told me how the most horrible lies were circulated about me. Good
heavens! What do they think a gentleman of my name and country can
be capable of--I a seducer of women? They might as well say I was a
horse-stealer or a housebreaker. I vow if I hear any man say so, I'll
have his ears!"

"I have read, sir, that the Grand Seignior of Turkey has bushels of ears
sometimes sent in to him," says Mr. Sampson, laughing. "If you took all
those that had heard scandal against you or others, what basketsful you
would fill!"

"And so I would, Sampson, as soon as look at 'em:--any fellow's who said
a word against a lady or a gentleman of honour!" cries the Virginian.

"If you'll go down to the Well, you'll find a harvest of 'em. I just
came from there. It was the high tide of Scandal. Detraction was at its
height. And you may see the nymphas discentes and the aures satyrorum
acutas," cries the chaplain, with a shrug of his shoulders.

"That may be as you say, Sampson," Mr. Warrington replies, "but if ever
I hear any man speak against my character I'll punish him. Mark that."

"I shall be very sorry for his sake, that I should; for you'll mark him
in a way he won't like, sir; and I know you are a man of your word."

"You may be sure of that, Sampson. And now shall we go to dinner, and
afterwards to my Lady Trumpington's tea?"

"You know, sir, I can't resist a card or a bottle," says Mr. Sampson.
"Let us have the last first and then the first shall come last." And
with this the two gentlemen went off to their accustomed place of
refection.

That was an age in which wine-bibbing was more common than in our
politer time; an