"Take it easy, ma'am," said Ben, as he sat down in a chair, which immediately broke all to pieces with his weight. "Take it easy, ma'am; the devil—what's this?"
"Never mind, Ben," said Mr. Oakley, "it's only a chair; get up."
"A cheer," said Ben; "do you call that a cheer? but never mind—take it easy."
"Why, you big, bullying, idle, swilling and guttling ruffian!"
"Go on, marm, go on."
"You good-for-nothing lump of carrion; a dog wears his own coat, but you wear your master's, you great stupid, overgrown, lurking hound. You parish-brought-up wild beast, go and mind your lions and elephants in the Tower, and don't come into honest people's houses, you cut-throat, bullying, pickpocketing wretch."
"Go on, marm, go on."
This was a kind of dialogue that could not last, and Mrs. Oakley sank down exhausted, and then Ben said—
"I tell you what, marm, I considers you—I looks upon you, marm, as a female wariety of that ere animal as is very useful and sagacious, marm."
There was no mistake in this allusion, and Mrs. Oakley was about to make some reply, when the Rev. Mr. Lupin rose from his chair, saying—