"'Tis not what I calls pretty, Miss Ellinor." "Certainly not, Peter; I wonder, with your talents for verse, you never indulge in a little satire against such perverse taste." "Satire! what's that? Oh, I knows; what they writes in elections. Why, Miss, mayhap--" here Peter paused, and winked significantly--"but the Corporal's a passionate man, you knows: but I could so sting him--Aha! we'll see, we'll see.--Do you know, your honour," here Peter altered his air to one of serious importance, as if about to impart a most sagacious conjecture, "I thinks there be one reason why the Corporal has not written to me." "And what's that, Peter?" "Cause, your honour, he's ashamed of his writing: I fancy as how his spelling is no better than it should be--but mum's the word. You sees, your honour, the Corporal's got a tarn for conversation-like--he be a mighty fine talker surely! but he be shy of the pen--'tis not every man what talks biggest what's the best schollard at bottom. Why, there's the newspaper I saw in the market, (for I always sees the newspaper once a week,) says as how some of them great speakers in the Parliament House, are no better than ninnies when they gets upon paper; and that's the Corporal's case, I sispect: I suppose as how they can't spell all them ere long words they make use on. For my part, I thinks there be mortal desate (deceit) like in that ere public speaking; for I knows how far a loud voice and a bold face goes, even in buying a cow, your honour; and I'm afraid the country's greatly bubbled in that ere partiklar; for if a man can't write down clearly what he means for to say, I does not thinks as how he knows what he means when he goes for to speak!" This speech--quite a moral exposition from Peter, and, doubtless, inspired by his visit to market--for what wisdom cannot come from intercourse?--our good publican delivered with especial solemnity, giving a huge thump on the sides of his ass as he concluded. "Upon my word, Peter," said Lester, laughing, "you have grown quite a Solomon; and, instead of a clerk, you ought to be a Justice of Peace, at the least: and, indeed, I must say that I think you shine more in the capacity of a lecturer than in that of a soldier." "'Tis not for a clerk of the parish to have too great a knack at the weapons of the flesh," said Peter, sanctimoniously, and turning aside to conceal a slight confusion at the unlucky reminiscence of his warlike exploits; "But lauk, Sir, even as to that, why we has frightened all the robbers away. What would you have us do more?" "Upon my word, Peter, you say right; and now, good day. Your wife's well, I hope? and Jacobina--is not that the cat's name?--in high health and favour." "Hem, hem!--why, to be sure, the cat's a good cat; but she steals Goody Truman's cream as she sets for butter reg'larly every night." "Oh! you must cure her of that," said Lester, smiling, "I hope that's the worst fault."