'I wish the blessed old creetur had never been born.' 'I said you might go to bed, John,' returned the secretary.

'You didn't hear me, I think.' 'Between Bloody Marys, and blue cockades, and glorious Queen Besses, and no Poperys, and Protestant associations, and making of speeches,' pursued John Grueby, looking, as usual, a long way off, and taking no notice of this hint, 'my lord's half off his head.

When we go out o' doors, such a set of ragamuffins comes a-shouting after us, "Gordon forever!" that I'm ashamed of myself and don't know where to look.

When we're indoors, they come a-roaring and screaming about the house like so many devils; and my lord instead of ordering them to be drove away, goes out into the balcony and demeans himself by making speeches to 'em, and calls 'em "Men of England," and "Fellow-countrymen," as if he was fond of 'em and thanked 'em for coming.

I can't make it out, but they're all mixed up somehow or another with that unfort'nate Bloody Mary, and call her name out till they're hoarse.