The squire gave a deep growl, and his wife put in the usual appeal of "Gusty, dear!"
"Hold your tongue, will you? how would you like it? I wish you had it on your——"
"'Deed-an-deed, dear,—" said the nurse-tender.
"By the 'ternal war! if you say another word, I'll throw the jug at you!"
"And there's a nice dhrop o' gruel I have on the fire for you," said the nurse, pretending not to mind the rising anger of the squire, as she stirred the gruel with one hand, while with the other she marked herself with the sign of the cross, and said in a mumbling manner, "God presarve us! he's the most cantankerous Christian I ever kem across!"
"Show me that infernal thing!" said the squire.
"What thing, dear?"
"You know well enough, you old hag!—that blackguard blister!"
"Here it is, dear. Now, just open the brust o' your shirt, and let me put it an you."
"Give it into my hand here, and let me see it."