m sure I have seen you in Penzance.

_Simon._ My wife has got a chandler's shop there.

_Job._ Haven't you heard we've a fire engine in the church?

_Simon._ What o' that?

_Job._ Suppose your wife's shop was in flames, and all her bacon and
farthing candles frying?

_Simon._ And what then?

_Job._ Why then, while the house was burning, you'd run to the
church for the engine. Shou'dn't you think it plaguy hard if the
sexton said, "Call for it to-morrow, between twelve and two?"

_Simon._ That be neither here nor there.

_Job._ Isn't it! Then, do you see this stick? [_Menacing._

_Simon._ Pshaw! you be a foolish old fellow.

_Job._ Why, that's true. Every now and then a jack-in-office, like
you, provokes a man to forget his years. The cudgel is a stout one,
and som'at like your master's justice;--'tis a good weapon in weak
hands; and that's the way many a rogue escapes a dressing.--What!
you are laughing at it?

_Simon._ Ees.

_Job._ Ees! you Cornish baboon, in a laced livery!--Here's something
to make you grin more--here's half a crown.
[_Holding it up between his Finger and Thumb._

_Simon._ Hee! hee!

_Job._ Hee, hee!--Damn your Land'send chops! 'tis to get me to your
master:--but, before you have it, though he keeps a
gentleman-justice-shop, I shall make free to ring it on his counter.
[_Throws it on the Floor._] There! pick it up. [_SIMON picks up the
money._] I am afraid you are not the first underling that has
stoop'd to pocket a bribe, before he'd do his duty.--Now, tell the
gentleman-justice, I want to see him.

_Simon._ I'll try what I can do for you. [_Exit._

_Job._ What makes you tremble so, Mary?

_Mary._ I can't help it:--I wish I could persuade you to go back
again.

_Job._ I'll stay till the roof falls, but I'll see some of 'em.

_Mary._ Indeed, you don't know how you terrify me. But, if you go to
Sir Simon, you'll leave me here in the hall;--you won't make me go
with you, father?

_Job._ Not take you with me.--I'll go with my wrongs in my hand, and
make him blush for his son.

_Mary._ I hope you'll think better of it.

_Job._ Why?

_Mary._ Because, when you came to talk, I should sink with shame, if
he said any thing to you that might----that----

_Job._ Might what?

_Mary._ [_Sighing, and hanging down her Head._] Make you blush for
your daughter.

_Job._ I won't have you waiting, like a petitioner, in this hall,
whe