JOHN BULL.—"Shall I serve Philip Baboon with broadcloth, and accept of the composition that he offers, with the liberty of his parks and fishponds?" Then Nic. roared like a bull, "O, o, o, o!"
JOHN BULL.—"If thou wilt not let me have them, wilt thou take them thyself?" Then Nic. grinned, cackled, and laughed, till he was like to kill himself, and seemed to be so pleased that he fell a frisking and dancing about the room.
JOHN BULL.—"Shall I leave all this matter to thy management, Nic., and go about my business?" Then Nic. got up a glass and drank to John, shaking him by the hand till he had like to have shook his shoulder out of joint.
JOHN BULL.—"I understand thee, Nic.; but I shall make thee speak before I go." Then Nic. put his finger in his cheek and made it cry "buck!" which was as much as to say, "I care not a farthing for thee."
JOHN BULL.—"I have done, Nic.; if thou wilt not speak, I'll make my own terms with old Lewis here."
John, perceiving that Frog would not speak, turns to old Lewis: "Since we cannot make this obstinate fellow speak, Lewis, pray condescend a little to his humour, and set down thy meaning upon paper, that he may answer it in another scrap."
"I am infinitely sorry," quoth Lewis, "that it happens so unfortunately; for, playing a little at cudgels t'other day, a fellow has given me such a rap over the right arm that I am quite lame. I have lost the use of my forefinger and my thumb, so that I cannot hold my pen."
JOHN BULL.—"That's all one; let me write for you."
LEWIS.—"But I have a misfortune that I cannot read anybody's hand but my own."
JOHN BULL.—"Try what you can do with your left hand."