One of his big lies about me was a letter I wrote to poor Jonadab." With her courage renewed by the sense of that wrong, she opened the door, and stood facing Mr.Swipes, with a piece of paper in her hand, which a woman's quick wit bade her fetch from her pocket.
"Halloa, madam!" the gardener exclaimed, with a sweep of his hat and a low salute, which he meant to be vastly satirical; "so your ladyship have come to take the air in my poor garden, instead of tending the spit.

And what do your ladyship think of it, so please you?
Sorry as I had any dung about, but hadn't no warning of this royal honour." "Sir," said Mrs.Knuckledown, pretending to be frightened a great deal more than she was--"oh, sir, forgive me! I am sure I meant no harm.

But the fowls was running in, and I ran up to stop them." "Oh, that was how your ladyship condescended; and to keep out the fowls, you locked out me! Allow me the royal and unapparelled honour of showing your ladyship to her carriage; and if I ever catch her in here again, I'll pitch you down the court-yard pretty quick.

Be off, you dirty baggage, or I won't answer for it now!" "Oh, you are too kind, Mr.Swipes; I am sure you are too gentle, to forgive me, like of that! And the little list I made of the flowers in your garden, I shall put it in a teapot till the Quality wants something." Mr.Swipes gave a start, and his over-watered eyes could not meet those of Mary, which were mildly set upon them.

"List!" he muttered--"little list! What do you please to mean, Miss ?" "Well, the 'dirty baggage' means nothing unparalleled, sir, but just the same as anybody else might do.