DOBBS'S “DUCK.”
A LEGEND OF HORSELYDOWN.
IT may be accepted as an indubitable truth, that when the tenderest epithets are bandied between a married couple, that the domestic affairs do not go particularly straight.
Dobbs and his rib were perhaps the most divided pair that ever were yoked by Hymen. D. was a good-humored fellow, a jovial blade, full of high spirits—while his wife was one of the most cross-grained and cantankerous bodies that ever man was blessed with—and yet, to hear the sweet diminutives which they both employed in their dialogues, the world would have concluded that they were upon the best terms conceivable.
“My love,” quoth Mrs. D., “I really now should like to take a boat and row down the river as far as Battersea; the weather is so very fine, and you know, my dear love, how fond I am of the water.”
D. could have added (and indeed it was upon the very tip of his tongue)—“mixed with spirits”—but he wisely restrained the impertinent allusion.
“Well, my duck,” said he, “you have only to name the day, you know, I am always ready to please,”—and then, as was his habit, concluded his gracious speech by singing— “'Tis woman vot seduces all mankind—
Their mother's teach them the wheedling art.”
“Hold your nonsense, do,” replied Mrs. D____, scarcely able to restrain her snappish humour, but, fearful of losing the jaunt, politically added, “Suppose, love, we go to-day—no time like the present, dear.”