If you protect her, none dare injure; if you scout her, all set upon her.
For as you said, or rather sung, t'other Sunday--capital voice you were in too-- "The mighty tyrants without cause Conspire her blood to shed!" "I did not think you had so good a memory, Corporal," said Peter smiling;--the cat was now curling itself up in his lap: "after all, Jacobina--what a deuce of a name--seems gentle enough." "Gentle as a lamb--soft as butter--kind as cream--and such a mouser!" "But I don't think Dorothy--" "I'll settle Dorothy." "Well, when will you look up ?" "Come and take a dish of tay with you in half an hour;--you want a new tay-chest; something new and genteel." "I think we do," said Peter, rising and gently depositing the cat on the ground.
"Aha! we'll see to it!--we'll see! Good b'ye for the present--in half an hour be with you!" The Corporal left alone with Jacobina, eyed her intently, and burst into the following pathetic address.
"Well, Jacobina! you little know the pains I takes to serve you--the lies I tells for you--endangered my precious soul for your sake, you jade! Ah! may well rub your sides against me.

Jacobina! Jacobina! you be the only thing in the world that cares a button for me.

I have neither kith nor kin.

You are daughter--friend--wife to me: if any thing happened to you, I should not have the heart to love any thing else.

Any body o' me, but you be as kind as any mistress, and much more tractable than any wife; but the world gives you a bad name, Jacobina.