They went home and told their master.

"My lord," say they, "there are three odd sort of fellows going about your grounds with the strangest machines that ever we beheld in our life: I suppose they are going to rob your orchard, fell your trees, or drive away your cattle.
They told us strange things of settling your estate--one is a lusty old fellow in a black wig, with a black beard, without teeth; there's another, thick squat fellow, in trunk hose; the third is a little, long-nosed, thin man (I was then lean, being just come out of a fit of sickness)--I suppose it is fit to send after them, lest they carry something away ?" MRS.

BULL .-- I fancy this put the old fellow in a rare tweague.
JOHN BULL .-- Weak as he was, he called for his long Toledo, swore and bounced about the room: "'Sdeath! what am I come to, to be affronted so by my tradesmen?
I know the rascals: my barber, clothier, and linen-draper dispose of my estate! Bring hither my blunderbuss; I'll warrant ye you shall see daylight through them.

Scoundrels! dogs! the scum of the earth! Frog, that was my father's kitchen-boy, he pretend to meddle with my estate--with my will! Ah, poor Strutt! what are thou come to at last?
Thou hast lived too long in the world, to see thy age and infirmity so despised! How will the ghosts of my noble ancestors receive these tidings ?--they cannot, they must not sleep quietly in their graves." In short, the old gentleman was carried off in a fainting fit, and after bleeding in both arms hardly recovered.
MRS.

BULL .-- Really this was a very extraordinary way of proceeding! I long to hear the rest of it.
JOHN BULL .-- After we had come back to the tavern, and taken t'other bottle of champagne, we quarrelled a little about the division of the estate.