John. This morning? You forget, sir. You broke the violin all to pieces for me last Saturday night.
Mr. C. I’m glad of it! Come, now; that wood which I told you to saw and put into the shed—why is it not done? Answer me!
John. The wood is all sawed, split, and housed, sir; besides doing that, I have watered all the trees in the garden, dug over three of the beds, and was digging another when you knocked.
Mr. C. Oh, I must get rid of this fellow! He will plague my life out of me. Out of my sight, sir! (John rushes out.)
HOW TO BREAK BAD NEWS.
Mr. H. Ha, steward! how are you, my old boy? How do things go on at home?
Steward. Bad enough, your honor; the magpie’s dead.
Mr. H. Poor Mag! so he’s gone. How came he to die?
Steward. Over-ate himself, sir.
Mr. H. Did he, indeed? a greedy villain! Why, what did he get he liked so well?