Hum. Come, you are ruffled. Let us go to the business of the morning.
Sir R. I hate the business of the morning. Don't you see we are engaged in discussion. I tell you, I hate the business of the morning.
Hum. No you don't.
Sir R. Don't I? Why not?
Hum. Because 't is charity.
Sir R. Pshaw! Well, we must not neglect the business, if there be any distress in the parish. Read the list, Humphrey.
Hum. (Taking out a paper and reading.) "Jonathan Huggins, of Muck Mead, is put in prison for debt."
Sir R. Why, it was only last week that Gripe, the attorney, recovered two cottages for him by law, worth sixty pounds.
Hum. Yes, and charged a hundred for his trouble; so seized the cottages for part of his bill, and threw Jonathan into jail for the remainder.
Sir R. A harpy! I must relieve the poor fellow's distress.