The Fitzfaddles at Hull.
"Well, well, drum no more about it, for mercy's sake; if you must go, you must go, that's all."
"Yes, just like you, Fitzfaddle"—pettishly reiterates the lady of the middle-aged man of business; "mention any thing that would be gratifying to the children—"
"The children—umph!"
"Yes, the children; only mention taking the dear, tied-up souls to, to—to the Springs—"
"Haven't they been to Saratoga? Didn't I spend a month of my precious time and a thousand of my precious dollars there, four years ago, to be physicked, cheated, robbed, worried, starved, and—laughed at?" Fitzfaddle responds.
"Or, to the sea-side—" continued the lady.
"Sea-side! good conscience!" exclaims Fitzfaddle; "my dear Sook—"
"Don't call me Sook, Fitzfaddle; Sook! I'm not in the kitchen, nor of the kitchen, you'll please remember, Fitzfaddle!" said the lady, with evident feeling.
"O," echoed Fitz, "God bless me, Mrs. Fitzfaddle, don't be so rabid; don't be foolish, in your old days; my dear, we've spent the happiest of our days in the kitchen; when we were first married, Susan, when our whole stock in trade consisted of five ricketty chairs—"