Goodman. Mary, here is a gentleman will lodge here to-night. Muggins is in one of his surly fits, and has denied him. Put clean sheets on the bed, and you shall sleep with Ruth, and I with—George!
Mrs. G. What will the gentleman be pleased to have? Pray, be seated, sir—take this great chair. Shall I do you a mutton chop, sir?
Goodman. Bring the ease-and-comfort, George.
In a long note Mr. Plumptree elaborately describes this machine, and benevolently observes, that no house should be without at least one of them.
Mr. Shepherd. I thank you—if it will not be giving you too much trouble, I should prefer tea before everything—nothing refreshes me after fatigue like tea.
Mrs. G. By all means, sir; the fire is not out in the back-house. Ruth, put on the kettle; it is hot; and get the tea-things.
George. (Bringing the ease-and-comfort.) Here, father.
Goodman. Will you rest your legs on this, sir? we call it ease and comfort.
Mr. Shepherd. 'Tis ease and comfort, indeed. I know it by the name of rest-and-be-thankful. I will beg, if you please, when I go to bed, the patriarchal hospitality of water for my feet, and that warm.
This conversation, which is quite refreshing from its naturalness, continues till it takes a turn in this manner:—