sir; I suppose you did; but who the devil can keep anything or
anybody in order, in such a Babel as this? Beevor, I'll thank you to
postpone the singing of your squib for the election; or take to the
street when our business is over, and give it to the crowd."

"You be d----d, Spavin," replied Beevor;

"I'll finish it, if the devil was at the back door."

"Darcy," said Deaker, addressing a thin, red-faced man beside him, "I
saw a pretty bit of goods in Castle Cumber market on Thursday."

"Why, Deaker," replied the other, "is it possible that with one foot
and more than half your body in the grave, and your shadow in h--l, you
sinner, you have not yet given up your profligacy."

"Eat, drink, and be merry, Tom, for tomorrow we die; but about this
pretty bit of goods--I tried to price her, but it wouldn't do; and when
I pressed hard, what do you think of the little tit, but put herself
under the protection of old Priest Roche, and told him I had insulted
her."

"Who is she, Deaker?" inquired a young fellow with a good deal of
libertine interest.

"Ah, Bob," replied Deaker, laughing; "there you are, one of the holy
triad. Here, Baronet--did you ever hear what Mad Jolly-block, their
father, the drinking parson of Mount Carnal, as some one christened his
residence, said of his three sons?--and that chap there's one of them."

"No; let us hear it."

"'Dan,' said the father, speaking of the eldest, 'would eat the devil;
Jack,' the second, 'would drink the devil; and Bob, this chap here,
'would both eat and drink him, in the first, place, and outwit him
afterwards.' That's Bob, the youngest--he there with a lip like a
dropsical sausage. He has sent him here to pick up a little honesty, and
much loyalty."

"And a great deal of morality," replied Bob, laughing, "from Deaker the
virtuous."

"No, no," replied Deaker; "you need never leave your Reverend father's
wing for that."

"Deaker, do you fleece the poor as much as ever?" replied Bob.

"Ah, you are another sweet Agent, as times go. Do you touch them at the
renewals as usual?"

"Egad, Bob, I was very good at that; but there's an unmatrimonial son of
mine, Val the Vulture, there, and d--me, when I look back upon my life,
and compare it with his, it's enough to make me repent of my humanity,
to think of the opportunities I have neglected."

"Gentlemen," observed Hartley, "it strikes me, no matter what the
multiplicity of other virtues we possess, there is someh