Tit for tat; what's sarce for the goose, is sarce for the gander.
"If you want to go, Minister will go with you; but hang me if I do.

The only thing is, it'll puzzle you to get him away, if he gets down there.
You never see such a crotchical old critter in your life as he is.

He flies right off the handle for nothin'.

He goes strayin' away off in the fields and gullies, a browsin' about with a hammer, crackin' up bits of stones like walnuts, or pickin' up old weeds, faded flowers, and what not; and stands starin' at 'em for ever so long, through his eye-glass, and keeps a savin' to himself, 'Wonderful provision of natur!' Airth and seas! what does he mean?
How long would a man live on such provision, I should like to know, as them bitter yarbs.
"Well, then, he'll jist as soon set down and jaw away by the hour together with a dirty-faced, stupid little poodle lookin' child, as if it was a nice spry little dog he was a trainin' of for treein' partridges; or talk poetry with the galls, or corn-law with the patriots, or any thing.

Nothin' comes amiss to him.
"But what provokes me, is to hear him go blartin' all over the country about home scenes, and beautiful landscape, and rich vardure.