; the pigs ha'
gotten the measles; I be grown thinner nor an old sixpence; and thee
hast drank up all the spirity liquors.

_Dennis._ By my soul, I believe my setting up the Red Cow, a week
ago, was a bit of a Bull!--but that's no odds. Haven't I been
married these three months?--and who did I marry?

_Dan._ Why, a waddling woman, wi' a mulberry feace.

_Dennis._ Have done with your blarney, Mr. Dan. Think of the high
blood in her veins, you bog trotter.

_Dan._ Ees; I always do, when I do look at her nose.

_Dennis._ Never you mind Mrs. Brulgruddery's nose. Was'nt she fat
widow to Mr. Skinnygauge, the lean exciseman of Lestweithel? and
did'nt her uncle, who is fifteenth cousin to a Cornish Baronet, say
he'd leave her no money, if he ever happen'd to have any, because
she had disgraced her parentage, by marrying herself to a taxman?
Bathershan, man, and don't you think he'll help us out of the mud,
now her second husband is an Irish jontleman, bred and born?

_Dan._ He, he! Thee be'st a rum gentleman.

_Dennis._ Troth, and myself, Mr. Dennis Brulgruddery, was brought up
to the church.

_Dan._ Why, zure!

_Dennis._ You may say that, I open'd the pew doors, in Belfast.

_Dan._ And what made 'em to turn thee out o'the treade?

_Dennis._ I snored in sermon time. Dr. Snufflebags, the preacher,
said I woke the rest of the congregation. Arrah, Dan, don't I see a
tall customer stretching out his arms in the fog?

_Dan._ Na; that be the road-post.

_Dennis._ 'Faith, and so it is. Och! when I was turn'd out of my
snug birth at Belfast, the tears ran down my eighteen year old
cheeks, like buttermilk.

_Dan._ Pshaw, man! nonsense! Thee'dst never get another livelihood
by crying.

_Dennis._ Yes, I did; I cried oysters. Then I pluck'd up----what's
that? a customer!

_Dan._ [_Looking out._] Na, a donkey.

_Dennis._ Well, then I pluck'd up a parcel of my courage, and I
carried arms.

_Dan._ Waunds! what, a musket?

_Dennis._ No; a reaping hook. I cut my way half through England:
till a German learn'd me physic, at a fair in Devonshire.

_Dan._ What, poticary's stuff?

_Dennis._ I studied it in Doctor Von Quolchigronck's booth, at
Plympton. He cured the yellow glanders, and restored prolification
to families who wanted an heir. I was of mighty use to him as an
assistant.

_Dan._ Were you indeed!

_Dennis._ But, somehow, the doctor and I had a quarrel; so I gave
him something, and parted.

_Dan._ And wh