I need not tell you that along with the land went the house in town and the money in the funds. Tuggeridge, he who had thousands before, had it all.
And when I was in prison who do you think would come and see me? None of the Barons, nor Counts, nor Foreign Ambassadors, nor Excellencies, who used to fill our house, and eat and drink at our expense,—not even the ungrateful Tagrag!
I could not help now saying to my dear wife, "See, my love, we have been gentlefolks for exactly a year, and a pretty life we have had of it. In the first place, my darling, we gave grand dinners, and everybody laughed at us."
"Yes, and recollect how ill they made you," cries my daughter.
"Then you must make a country gentleman of me."
"And send pa into dunghills," roared Tug.
"Then you must go to operas, and pick up foreign Barons and Counts."
"O, thank heaven! dearest papa, that we are rid of them," cries my little Jemimarann, looking almost happy, and kissing her old pappy.
"And you must make a fine gentleman of Tug, and send him to a fine school."
"And I give you my word," says Tug, "I'm as ignorant a chap as ever lived."