It is said, my divine creature, or rather it is hinted, that a certain clodhopping boor, from the congenial wilds of Ahadarra, is favored by some benignant glances from those lights of yours that do mislead the moon.

I hope this is not so--bow wow!--ho! ho!--I smell the blood of a rival; and be he great or small, red or black, or of any color in the rainbow, I shall have him for my.

breakfast--ho! ho! You see now, my most divine Kathleen, what a terrible animal to all rivals and competitors for your affections I shall be; and that if it were only for their own sakes, and to prevent carnage and cannibalism, it will be well for you to banish them once and forever, and be content only with myself.
"Seriously, my dear Kathleen, I believe I am half-crazed; and, if so, you are the sole cause of it.

I can think of no other object than your beautiful self; and I need scarcely say, that I shall have neither peace nor happiness unless I shall be fortunate enough to gain a place in your tender bosom.

As for the Ahadarra man, I am surprised you should think of such an ignorant clodhopper--a fellow whose place Providence especially allotted to between the stilts of a plough, and at the tail of a pair of horses.