"There you have me," says Father, instantly softening. "Laud we the Name of the Lord, but let's not laud one another."
"Ah! I can't wait to argue the Point," says Uncle. "I must back to the Temple."
"Stay a Moment, Kit. Have you seen 'the Mysterie of Jesuitism?'"
"No; have you seen the Proof that London, not Rome, is the City on seven Hills? Ludgate Hill, Fishstreet Hill, Dowgate Hill, Garlick Hill, Saffron Hill, Holborn Hill, and Tower Hill. Clear as Day!"
"Where's Snow Hill? Come, don't go yet. We will fight over some of our old Feuds. There will be a roast Pig on Table at one o'clock, and, I fancy, a Tansy-pudding."
"I can't fancy Tansy-pudding," says Uncle, shuddering; "I cannot abide Tansies, even in Lent. Besides, I'm expecting a Reference."
"Oh! very well; then drop in again in the Evening, if you will; and very likely you will meet Cyriack Skinner. And you shall have cold Pig for Supper, not forgetting the Current-sauce, Wiltshire Cheese, Carraways, and some of your own Wine."
"Well, that sounds good. I don't mind if I do," says Uncle; "but don't expect me after nine."
"I'm in Bed by nine," says Father.
"Oh, oh!" says Uncle; and with a comical Look at us, he went off.