_Nutts._ Ha! Mr Slowgoe, don’t you in that manner fly in the face of fortin and your washer-woman. At this very moment, I look upon it, every man’s life is in the hands of his clear-starcher; for who knows what they’ll make starch of now? and then for gowns and petticoats, and---- _Mrs Nutts._ There; hold your tongue, Mr Nutts. I’ll be on my guard, I assure you. You don’t get rid of me like the poor woman at the Surr’y, I can tell you. For if the gun-cotton only wants a good pressing to go off, I won’t wear a blessed stitch that I don’t first see well mangled. _Nutts._ You’re a prudent woman, Mrs Nutts. Nevertheless, you’ve talked quite enough to-day; and I don’t know that you’ve any partic’lar business at all in the shop. _Mrs Nutts._ Don’t you? Then I have business; and I tell you what--now little Tommy’s weaned, it’s my intention to come and have a long talk in the shop every week. You’re not going to have it all your own way, as you _have_ done, I can assure you. [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER XII. _Slowgoe._ (_With paper._) Oh yes; it’s plain enough: more danger in the Church of England. Here’s something taken from the _Morning Herald_ that shows how the cat jumps. _Nutts._ Well, I’m not partic’lar about cats in common, but _how_ does she jump? _Slowgoe._ Towards Rome, Mr Nutts; yes, towards the Scarlet---- _Nutts._ Mr Slowgoe, beg your pardon, but Mrs Nutts is in the shop. _Mrs Nutts._ Never mind me, Mr Slowgoe, if I am in the shop. The children’s washed, the meat’s sent to the bakehouse, and I shall just sit down and enjoy myself. Go on, Mr Slowgoe. _Slowgoe._ The _Morning Herald_, talking of the danger to the Church, says this much, that English people going to Rome, catch the Catholic religion without knowing it. Listen. “Such families were generally lodged in some portion of a vacant palace or mansion. Commonly there was soon found dwelling in some adjacent part of the same building _an accomplished and agreeable_ priest or Jesuit. This person soon found an opportunity of rendering some service; obtaining access for the family to some gallery or museum, or an invitation to some concert.” You see, Mr Nutts, how the thing’s done? _Mrs Nutts._ Taking advantage of pleasure to undermine our principles! Playing us into Popery with flutes and fiddles! _Nosebag._ Well, but if folks will go to see the shows at Rome, when they’d better stay at home and be edified at their own playhouses--what’s to become on ’em? _Tickle._ Why, it just strikes me that we might fight ’em with their own weapons. For instance, you say “an agreeable and accomplished priest or Jesuit” is the disturber of the peace of families. Well, before the family starts, why don’t they take with ’em--just as they take cork jackets and life-preservers--“an agreeable and accomplished” ’Stablished chaplain to battle for ’em on the other side?