“I do,” said Mr Cranium; “because I know that the farinaceous qualities of the potato will tend to preserve the great requisites of unity and coalescence in the various constituent portions of my animal republic; and that the hemlock, if gathered by mistake for parsley, chopped up small with butter, and eaten with a boiled chicken, would necessitate a great derangement, and perhaps a total decomposition, of my corporeal mechanism.”
“Very well,” said the squire; “then you are necessitated to like Mr Escot better than Mr Panscope?”
“That is a non sequitur,” said Mr Cranium.
“Then this is a sequitur,” said the squire: “your daughter and Mr Escot are necessitated to love one another; and, unless you feel necessitated to adhibit your consent, they will feel necessitated to dispense with it; since it does appear to moral and political economists to be essentially inherent in the eternal fitness of things.”
Mr Cranium fell into a profound reverie:
emerging from which, he said, looking Squire Headlong full in the face, “Do you think Mr Escot would give me that skull?”
“Skull!” said Squire Headlong.
“Yes,” said Mr Cranium, “the skull of Cadwallader.”
“To be sure he will,” said the squire.
“Ascertain the point,” said Mr Cranium.