Little cry and much wool is my motto.

At ten o'clock A.M.

saw the enemy--in the shape of a Doctor of Divinity.

'Blow me,' says I to Old Bags, 'but I 'll do his reverence!' 'Blow me,' says Old Bags, 'but you sha' n't,--you'll have us scragged if you touches the Church.' 'My grandmother!' says I.Bags tells the pals,--all in a fuss about it,--what care I?
I puts on a decent dress, and goes to the doctor as a decayed soldier wot supplies the shops in the turning line.

His reverence--a fat jolly dog as ever you see--was at dinner over a fine roast pig; so I tells him I have some bargains at home for him.