"Now, look here," said Uncle Zackie, "you be a man and show yourself maister in your own 'ouse. You go 'ome and snap your vingers in the missus' vaice, and sit down on the table. I'll come in two minutes after and see your triumph--you maister and all." "Right," said Pasco, and went home. But when he had snapped his fingers under the nose of his wife she took the poker at him, and he took refuge under the table. Tap! tap! at the door. "Come out from under there," said Susan, his wife. Then Pasco lifted up his voice and sang out as loud as thunder, "No, Sue! no, I want come out from under the table. I'll stick where I be; for all you say, I'll show Uncle Zackie as I'll be maister in my own house." In 1768 the Hon. Daines Barrington visited Cornwall to ascertain whether the Cornish language had entirely died out or not, and in a letter written to John Lloyd a few years after he gives the result of his journey, and in it refers to Dolly Pentreath:-- "I set out from Penzance with the landlord of the principal inn for my guide towards Sennen, and when I approached the village I said there must probably be some remains of the language in those parts, if anywhere. My guide, however, told me that I should be disappointed; but that if I would ride about ten miles about in my return to Penzance, he would conduct me to a village called Mousehole, where was an old woman who could speak Cornish fluently. While we were travelling together I enquired how he knew that this woman spoke Cornish, when he informed me that he frequently went to Mousehole to buy fish which were sold by her, and that when he did not offer her a price that was satisfactory she grumbled to some other old woman in an unknown tongue, which he concluded to be Cornish. "When we reached Mousehole I desired to be introduced as a person who had laid a wager that there was not one who could converse in Cornish, upon which Dolly Pentreath spoke in an angry tone for two or three minutes in a language which sounded very much like Welsh. The hut in which she lived was in a very narrow lane, opposite to two rather better houses, at the doors of which two other women stood, who were advanced in years, and who, I observed, were laughing at what Dolly said to me. "Upon this I asked them whether she had not been abusing me, to which they answered, 'Very heartily,' and because I had supposed she could not speak Cornish. "I then said that they must be able to talk the language, to which they answered that they could not speak it readily, but that they understood it, being only ten or twelve years younger than Dolly Pentreath.