He took the cat, which by the by we forgot to say that he had thought fit to christen after himself, and to honour with a name, somewhat lengthy for a cat, (but indeed this was no ordinary cat!) viz. Jacobina. He took Jacobina then, we say, upon his lap, and stroking her brindled sides with great tenderness, he bade Dealtry remark how singularly quiet the animal was in its manners. Nay, he was not contented until Peter himself had patted her with a timorous hand, and had reluctantly submitted the said hand to the honour of being licked by the cat in return. Jacobina, who, to do her justice, was always meek enough in the presence, and at the will, of her master, was, fortunately this day, on her very best behaviour. “Them dumb animals be mighty grateful,” quoth the Corporal. “Ah!” rejoined Peter, wiping his hand with his pocket handkerchief. “But, Lord! what scandal there be in the world!” “‘Though slander’s breath may raise a storm, It quickly does decay!’” muttered Peter. “Very well, very true; sensible verses those,” said the Corporal, approvingly; “and yet mischief’s often done before the amends come. Body o’ me, it makes a man sick of his kind, ashamed to belong to the race of men, to see the envy that abounds in this here sublunary wale of tears!” said the Corporal, lifting up his eyes. Peter stared at him with open mouth; the hypocritical rascal continued, after a pause,-- “Now there’s Jacobina, ‘cause she’s a good cat, a faithful servant, the whole village is against her: such lies as they tell on her, such wappers, you’d think she was the devil in garnet! I grant, I grant,” added the Corporal, in a tone of apologetic candour, “that she’s wild, saucy, knows her friends from her foes, steals Goody Solomon’s butter; but what then? Goody Solomon’s d--d b--h! Goody Solomon sold beer in opposition to you, set up a public;--you do not like Goody Solomons, Peter Dealtry?” “If that were all Jacobina had done!” said the landlord, grinning. “All! what else did she do? Why she eat up John Tomkins’s canary-bird; and did not John Tomkins, saucy rascal, say you could not sing better nor a raven?” “I have nothing to say against the poor creature for that,” said Peter, stroking the cat of his own accord. “Cats will eat birds, ‘tis the ‘spensation of Providence. But what! Corporal!” and Peter hastily withdrawing his hand, hurried it into his breeches pocket--“but what! did not she scratch Joe Webster’s little boy’s hand into ribbons, because the boy tried to prevent her running off with a ball of string?” “And well,” grunted the Corporal, “that was not Jacobina’s doing, that was my doing. I wanted the string--offered to pay a penny for it--think of that!” “It was priced three pence ha’penny,” said Peter. “Augh--baugh! you would not pay Joe Webster all he asks! What’s the use of being a man of the world, unless one makes one’s tradesmen bate a bit? Bargaining is not cheating, I hope?” “God forbid!” said Peter.