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Updated: May 17, 2025
Barkeep, do your dooty while the subscription-paper goes 'round. "The biddin' is mighty lively, an' in ten minutes seven hundred dollars is raised for a dowry. Then French, who has been settin' in a sort of daze, gets up: "'Mister Enright an' gents, he says, `this yere is a s'prise-party to me, but it goes. It's a hoss on me, but I stands it.
"But, treat him allus good and kind, And never strike him with a stick, Ner aggervate him, and you'll find He'll never do a hostile trick. "A hoss whose master tends him right And worters him with daily care, Will do your biddin' with delight, And act as docile as YOU air.
That's the Master's biddin', ye know." But the pudding was yet to buy. He had a dirty scrap of paper on which Jinny had written down the amount. "The hand that woman writes!" He inspected it anxiously at every street-lamp. Did you ever see anything finer than that tongue, full of its rich brown juices and golden fat? or the white, crumbly suet?
Silence and solitude, and the close air that oppressed her, were things very foreign to her nature. In the dark night, when her distempered imagination conjured up horrible dreams, Nanny Swinton stole to her door, and bemoaned her bird, her lamb, whispering hoarsely, "Do her biddin', Miss Nelly; she's yer leddy mother; neither man nor God will acquit you; your burden may be lichter than ye trow."
It's not fair play two ways. It's not fair play to cotch up men as has no call for fightin' at another man's biddin', though they've no objection to fight a bit on their own account and who are just landed, all keen after bread i'stead o' biscuit, and flesh-meat i'stead o' junk, and beds i'stead o' hammocks. And again it's no fair play to t' French.
But, any way, take my advice, avillish, will you, aroon? an' faix you'll see how rich we'll get, wid a blessin'?" "Ellish, you're a deludher!" "Well, an' what suppose? To be sure I am. Usen't you be followin' me like a calf afther the finger? ha, ha, ha! Will you do my biddin', Pether darlin'?"
Well, I think I'll be pushin' on. I on'y got a sort o' rough idear where this mill is; an' there ain't many people this side o' the river to inquire off of; an' my eyes is none o' the best. I'll be biddin' you good day." "Are you a smoker?" I asked, replenishing my own sagacious meerschaum. "Because you might try a plug of this tobacco."
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