“Early in the attack, Mr Rivers,” said the priest.
“Ho! ho! Mr Lil-long-tongue, sure you nee-heedn’t care; you’re always prepared. I wo-wo-wish your brother co-co-corbie there would bib-bib-bib-borrow some of your chin-whack.”
“Listen to him noo,” said the host; “he’s begun, an’ the diel would na stop his tongue; we’ll a’ get a wipe in our turn.”
“Never mind,” said the rector. “Mr Rivers, I am happy to perceive, is charitably inclined to-night. He wishes to increase my usefulness for the benefit of his neighbours, as he never condescends to occupy his seat in church.”
“And never will, Mr Modesty, till you think fit to change your tune.”
“Pray inform me how I shall accommodate myself to your taste, Mr Rivers.”
“There are tit-two mim-methods open to you. Either you shall pra-hactise what you pre-heach, or pre-heach what you pra-hactise!”
“You are pleased to speak in riddles, Mr Rivers; be kind enough to explain.”
“Ho! ho! tha-hat is mim-more than I intended. Fu-hoo men blame me for con-ce-ling my thoughts. But I shall try to be clear. You pre-heach cha-harity, and you pra-hactise rir-rir-robbery. Ho! ho! but you are a saint! Now, I am a knave; and how lies the difference? In my fif-favour to be sure, for I give the world fif-fair play—every body knows my cha-haracter.”
“Your character is generally known,” interposed the priest; “and, as you admire candour, allow me to add, as generally execrated.”