The galls larf, the helps larf, and the, bed-room maid larfs; and who the plague can blame them?
Old Marm don't larf though, because she is too perlite, and besides, she's lost her flowers, and that's no larfin' matter; and you don't larf, 'cause you feel a little the nastiest you ever did, and jist as near like a fool as to be taken for one, in the dark, that's a fact.
"Well, you renew the outer man, and try it agin, and it's look at the stable and hosses with Sir Host, and the dogs, and the carriages, and two American trees, and a peacock, and a guinea hen, and a gold pheasant, and a silver pheasant, and all that, and then lunch.

Who the plague can eat lunch, that's only jist breakfasted?
"So away goes lunch, and off goes you and the 'Sir,' a trampousin' and a trapsein' over the wet grass agin (I should like to know what ain't wet in this country), and ploughed fields, and wide ditches chock full of dirty water, if you slip in, to souse you most ridikelous; and over gates that's nailed up, and stiles that's got no steps for fear of thoroughfare, and through underwood that's loaded with rain-drops, away off to tother eend of the estate, to see the most beautiful field of turnips that ever was seen, only the flies eat all the plants up; and then back by another path, that's slumpier than t'other, and twice as long, that you may see an old wall with two broke-out winders, all covered with ivy, which is called a ruin.

And well named it is, too, for I tore a bran new pair of trousers, most onhandsum, a scramblin' over the fences to see it, and ruined a pair of shoes that was all squashed out of shape by the wet and mud.
"Well, arter all this day of pleasure, it is time to rig up in your go-to-meetin' clothes for dinner; and that is the same as yesterday, only stupider, if that's possible; and that is Life in the Country.
"How the plague can it be otherwise than dull?
If there is nothin' to see, there can't be nothin' to talk about.

Now the town is full of things to see.

There is Babbage's machine, and Bank Governor's machine, and the Yankee woman's machine, and the flyin' machine, and all sorts of machines, and galleries, and tunnels, and mesmerisers, and theatres, and flower-shows, and cattle-shows, and beast-shows, and every kind of show, and what's better nor all, beautiful got-up women, and men turned out in fust chop style, too.
"I don't mean to say country women ain't handsum here, 'cause they be.
There is no sun here; and how in natur' can it be otherways than that they have good complexions.