as a dog would a hot dumpling; says nothing but a Bible
ought to be so extravagantly bound; and professes that "the matter may
all be very fine, but he can make neither head nor tail of it." Yet,
whenever Lady Barbara is with him, she is sure to talk and smile herself
in about half an hour into his high favor; and he begins to run about to
show her this and that, and calls out every now and then, "Let Lady
Barbara see this, and go to look at that." She can do any thing with
him, except get him to London. "London!" he exclaims; "no; get me to
Bedlam at once! What has a rusty old fellow, like me, to do at London?
If I could find again the jolly set that used to meet, thirty years ago,
at the Star and Garter, Pall Mall, it might do; but London isn't what
London used to be. It's too fine by half for a country squire, and would
drive me distracted in twenty-four hours, with its everlasting noise and
nonsense."

But the old squire does get pretty well distracted with the annual
visit. Down come driving the young squire and Lady Barbara, with a train
of carriages like a fleet of men-of-war, leading the way with their
traveling-coach and four horses. Up they twirl to the door of old hall.
The old bell rings a thundering peal through the house. Doors fly
open--out come servants--down come the young guests from their
carriages; and while embraces and salutations are going on in the
drawing-room, the hall is fast filling with packages upon packages;
servants are running to and fro along the passages; grooms and carriages
are moving off to the stables without; there is lifting and grunting at
portmanteaus and imperials, as they are borne up-stairs; while ladies'
maids and nursemaids are crying out, "Oh, take care of that trunk!"
"Mind that ban'-box!" "Oh, gracious! that is my lady's dressing-case; it
will be down, and be totally ruined!" Dogs are barking; children crying,
or romping about, and the whole house in the most blessed state of
bustle and confusion.

For a week the hurly-burly continues; in pour all the great people to
see Tom and Lady Barbara. There are shootings in the mornings, and great
dinner parties in the evenings. Tom and my lady have sent down before
them plenty of hampers of such wines as the old squire neither keeps nor
drinks, and they have brought their plate along with them; and the old
house itself is astonished at the odors of champagne, claret, and hook,
that pervade, and at the glitter of gold and silv