“Li--ar,--return--ed--the--aughty--Hearl--of--H--e --i--Hi--d--e--l--del--b--e--r--g--berg--Heidelberg-- in--a--tone--of--suppress--ed--hire--dare--you--her-- p--a--r--par--her--par--a--her--par--a--m--o--u--r --mowr--her--par--a--mowr--speak--thus.” Upon my word, too, that stupid Betsy filled the poor boy’s head, directly she heard he was a foundling, with such a lot of rubbish, about his being a “Mysterious Horphan,” and making him pull up his shirt-sleeves to see if he had any strawberry mark by which his parentage might be discovered, and be acknowledged as the rightful heir to his estates, that I could have given it her well, I could; for she had the impudence to tell the poor boy that noble blood flowed in his veins, and actually went to the length of asking me, whether I ever _heerd_ tell of any peer of the realm whose family name might be Wittals? But what disgusted me with the woman more than anything else, was, that she was so fond of the mischievous young imp, that in order to screen him she would stand for hours, and tell me tarrididdles as long as my arm, and which really used to make my blood all run cold to listen to. And even if I had seen the young monkey break one of my windows through his nasty cruel love of throwing stones at the poor sparrows, as he always was, she’d even then have the face to stand me out that she did it, though I always took good care to punish her well for it, by stopping it out of her wages--which, considering Wittals had none to stop it out of, I wasn’t at all sorry at being obliged by her obstinacy to do. Owing to that monkey of a Wittals going making a pig of himself inside the sugar cask, my doctor never came round till near upon five o’clock to see my poor little patient angel of a Kitty, who was suffering _so_ dreadfully with her nasty--nasty tiresome teeth; and the consequence was, that my little cherub was so much worse, and in such a burning high fever, that I declare she lay almost powerless in my arms, not stirring a limb, with the lids half down over her eyes, as if she were stupified with pain in her head. I never was so much alarmed in all my life, and I kept bathing her temples with vinegar, and crying over her, expecting that every minute she would be going into convulsions, and that I should be having the cherub snatched from me.