r Jonadab."

With her courage renewed by the sense of that wrong, she opened the
door, and stood facing Mr. Swipes, with a piece of paper in her hand,
which a woman's quick wit bade her fetch from her pocket.

"Halloa, madam!" the gardener exclaimed, with a sweep of his hat and
a low salute, which he meant to be vastly satirical; "so your ladyship
have come to take the air in my poor garden, instead of tending the
spit. And what do your ladyship think of it, so please you? Sorry as I
had any dung about, but hadn't no warning of this royal honour."

"Sir," said Mrs. Knuckledown, pretending to be frightened a great deal
more than she was--"oh, sir, forgive me! I am sure I meant no harm. But
the fowls was running in, and I ran up to stop them."

"Oh, that was how your ladyship condescended; and to keep out the fowls,
you locked out me! Allow me the royal and unapparelled honour of showing
your ladyship to her carriage; and if I ever catch her in here again,
I'll pitch you down the court-yard pretty quick. Be off, you dirty
baggage, or I won't answer for it now!"

"Oh, you are too kind, Mr. Swipes; I am sure you are too gentle, to
forgive me, like of that! And the little list I made of the flowers
in your garden, I shall put it in a teapot till the Quality wants
something."

Mr. Swipes gave a start, and his over-watered eyes could not meet those
of Mary, which were mildly set upon them. "List!" he muttered--"little
list! What do you please to mean, Miss?"

"Well, the 'dirty baggage' means nothing unparalleled, sir, but just the
same as anybody else might do. Some people calls it a Inventionary, and
some an Emmarandum, and some a Catalogue. It don't interfere with you,
Mr. Swipes; only the next time as Miss Dolly asks, the same as she was
doing the other day--"

"Oh, she was, was she? The little -----!" Mr. Swipes used a word
concerning that young lady which would have insured his immediate
discharge, together with one from the Admiral's best toe. "And pray,
what was her observations, ma'am?"

"It was Charles told me, for he was waiting at dinner. Seems that the
turnip was not to her liking, though I picked out the very best of what
few you sent in, so she looks up from her plate, and she says: 'Well, I
cannot understand it! To me it is the greatest mistress in the world,'
she says, 'that we never can get a bit of vegetable fit for eating.
We've got,' she says, 'a kitchen-garden close upon two acres, and a man
who