MARY.--Have I, dear John? [sadly.] JOHN.--Yes, child--yes. I think a better never beat in woman's bosom. You're good to everybody--good to your parents whom you send half your wages to: good to your employers whom you never robbed of a halfpenny. MARY [whimpering].--Yes, I did, John. I took the jelly when you were in bed with the influenza; and brought you the pork-wine negus. JOHN.--Port, not pork, child. Pork is the hanimal which Jews ab'or. Port is from Oporto in Portugal. MARY [still crying].--Yes, John; you know everything a'most, John. JOHN.--And you, poor child, but little! It's not heart you want, you little trump, it's education, Mary: it's information: it's head, head, head! You can't learn. You never can learn. Your ideers ain't no good. You never can hinterchange em with mine. Conversation between us is impossible. It's not your fault. Some people are born clever; some are born tall, I ain't tall. MARY.--Ho! you're big enough for me, John. [Offers to take his hand.] JOHN.--Let go my 'and--my a-hand, Mary! I say, some people are born with brains, and some with big figures. Look at that great ass, Bulkeley, Lady K.'s man--the besotted, stupid beast! He's as big as a life-guardsman, but he ain't no more education nor ideers than the ox he feeds on. MARY.--Law, John, whatever do you mean? JOHN.--Hm! you know not, little one! you never can know. Have YOU ever felt the pangs of imprisoned genius? have YOU ever felt what 'tis to be a slave? MARY.--Not in a free country, I should hope, John Howell--no such a thing. A place is a place, and I know mine, and am content with the spear of life in which it pleases heaven to place me, John: and I wish you were, and remembered what we learned from our parson when we went to school together in dear old Pigeoncot, John--when you used to help little Mary with her lessons, John, and fought Bob Brown, the big butcher's boy, because he was rude to me, John, and he gave you that black hi. JOHN.--Say eye, Mary, not heye [gently]. MARY.--Eye; and I thought you never looked better in all your life than you did then: and we both took service at Squire Milliken's--me as dairy-girl, and you as knife-boy; and good masters have they been to us from our youth hup: both old Squire Milliken and Mr. Charles as is master now, and poor Mrs. as is dead, though she had her tantrums--and I thought we should save up and take the "Milliken Arms"--and now we have saved up--and now, now, now--oh, you are a stone, a stone, a stone! and I wish you were hung round my neck, and I were put down the well! There's the hup-stairs bell. [She starts, changing her manner as she hears the bell, and exit.]