“I write to you, trusting you will receive this safe, to say that as Mr. George Gallon has discontinued travelling altogether, I must trust to you entirely to do what is necessary in futur, but you must be most careful and watchful, for these nasty Pollis fellers are about every where, and seem to think they have a right to look into every bodies basket and bundle. We live in terrible times, I’m sure, my own beloved Anthony Thom, and if it wasn’t for the hope that I may see you become a great gentleman, like Mr. George Gallon, I really think I would forswear place altogether, for no one knows the anxiety and misery of living with such a nasty, mean, covetous body as Old Nosey.”
“Old Nosey!” ejaculated Sir Moses, stopping short in his reading, and feeling his proboscis; “Old Nosey! dom it, can that mean me? Do believe it does—and it’s mother Margerum’s handwriting—dom’d if it isn’t,” continued he, holding the letter a little way off to examine and catch the character of the writing; “What does she mean by calling me a nasty, covetous body? I that hunt the country, subscribe to the Infirmary, Agricultural Society, and do everything that’s liberal and handsome. I’ll Old Nosey her!” continued he, grinding his teeth, and giving a vigorous flourish of his right fist; “I’ll Old Nosey her! I’ll turn her out of the house as soon as ever I get home, dom’d if I won’t,” said Sir Moses quivering with rage as he spoke. At length he became sufficiently composed to resume his reading—
“-No one knows the anxiety and misery of living with such a nasty, mean, covetous body as Old Nosey, who is always on the fret about expense, and thinks everybody is robbing him.”
“Oh, dom it, that means me sure enough!” exclaimed Sir Moses; “that’s on account of the row I was kicking up t’other day about the tea—declared I drank a pound a week myself. I’ll tea her!” continued he, again turning to the letter and reading,—
“-I declare I’d almost as soon live under a mistress as under such a shocking mean, covetous man.”
“Would you?” muttered Sir Moses; adding, “you shall very soon have a chance then.” The letter thus continued,—
“-The old feller will be away on Saturday and Sunday, so come afore lightning on Monday morning, say about four o’clock, and I’ll have everything ready to lower from my window.”
“Oh the deuce!” exclaimed Sir Moses, slapping his leg; “Oh the deuce! going to rob the house, I declare!”
“-To lower from my window” read he again, “for it’s not safe trusting things by the door as we used to do, now that these nasty knavish Pollis fellers are about; so now my own beloved Anthony Thom, if you will give a gentle whistle, or throw a little bit of soft dirt up at the window, where you will see a light burning, I’ll be ready for you, and you’ll be clear of the place long afore any of the lazy fellers here are up,—for a set of nastier, dirtier drunkards never were gathered together.”
“Humph!” grunted Sir Moses, “that’s a cut at Mr. Findlater.” The writer then proceeded to say,—