'I wish you could, the drunken blackguard.

King Solomon could not make sense of it.

She gave that burglar, would you believe it, Ma'am?
two guineas, by Jupiter: the first of this month--and whiskey only sixpence a pint--and he was drunk without intermission of course, day and night for a week after.

Brain fever, indeed, 'tis just as sweet a little fit of delirium tremens, my dear Madam, as ever sent an innocent burglar slap into bliss;' and the word popped out with a venomous hiss and an angry chuckle.
'And so, my dear,' resumed Aunt Becky, marching in again; 'good Doctor Toole--our good Samaritan, here--has taken him up, just for love, and the poor man's fee--his blessing.' The doctor muttered something about 'taking him up,' but inarticulately, for it was only for the relief of his own feelings.
'And now, dear Lilias, we want your good father to come with us, just to pray by the poor fellow's bedside: he's in the study, is he ?' 'No, he was not to be home until to-morrow morning.' 'Bless me!' cried Aunt Becky, with as much asperity as if she had said something different; 'and not a soul to be had to comfort a dying wretch in your father's parish--yes, he's dying; we want a minister to pray with him, and here we've a Flemish account of the rector.

This tells prettily for Dr.Walsingham!' 'Dr.Walsingham's the best rector in the whole world, and the holiest man and the noblest,' cried brave little Lily, standing like a deer at bay, with her wild shy eyes looking full in Aunt Becky's, and a flush in her cheeks, and the beautiful light of truth beaming like a star from her forehead.