"Ma'am, I only warned him off my preserves, and did it in civil language, too; but your son, taking his cue, I have no doubt, from so accomplished a parent, used improper and ungentlemanly language to me, and threatened to horsewhip me; so I thought it was only justice to myself to put him into the hands of my man of business."
"Your man of business, sir! And who gave you, or your father's son, a man of business, pray? What business may you have to manage, which a servant lass may not conduct to a favourable conclusion with a three-pronged grape?"
"Madam, I will stand this no longer. This house is my own. Depart!"
There she goes, wagging her tail and tossing her head, the Born Idiot!
But here comes a change of person, in
"THE CANTING IDIOT."
But, hush! I hear the voice of psalmody. She has taken to what she terms a "sweet psalm," and must not on any account be disturbed.
It is true that there are odd stories abroad of her early life, and some rather suspicious reports respecting a certain serjeant of a certain regiment. Suspicions, too, have been entertained of her being concerned in the burning of a certain will, by which her husband became possessed of property to a comfortable extent; but she has no family, and of late years has taken to religion, and, some say, occasionally to a less safe stimulant. Be that as it may, Mrs Glaiks is at the head of all manner of female associations of a religious character. She is a perfect adept in judging of young preachers and evangelical discourses. If she pronounce her verdict, the matter is settled; there is no appeal, not even to her poor henpecked husband, whose conscience, every now and then, requires all her care and eloquence to soothe. She has already taken possession of this world by a trick, and she means to take the next by force. She is urgent with the Lord, in season and out of season, and has been at great pains in converting a handsome young man, who was addicted to wine and its usual accompaniments. She says that she has been the unworthy instrument, in God's hand, of his soul's salvation; and meets with him more frequently in private than John Glaiks approves of. Pass on, Mrs Glaiks—
"If honest worth to heaven rise,
Ye'll mend ere ye come near it."
But what a mighty fuss is here! The door flies wide open, till the hinges crack again, as in there rolls, in all the majesty of a new suit of clothes, and a mighty self.