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Updated: May 29, 2025
"You will go to another and a better world, as my papa says in his sermons; I believe that the pain is not very great but the disgrace " Mrs Forster burst into tears. "Save me! save me, Miss Dragwell! Oh! Oh! that stupid Nicholas, Oh! Oh!" "My dear Mrs Forster, we have all agreed at the parsonage that there is but one method."
"Ha, ha, ha!" roared the curate, who had just taken the last joke. "He, he, he!" "Why, yes," continued the curate, "I think it is a most excellent proposition; this melancholy affair requires a great deal of consideration. I never compose so well as I do with a pipe in my mouth: Mrs Dragwell says that she knows all my best sermons by the smell of them; d'ye take Ha, ha, ha!" "He, he, he!"
Ramsden, who had been summoned to attend poor Mr Spinney, was her sole confidant, and readily entered into a scheme which was pleasing to his mistress, and promised revenge for the treatment he had received; and which, as Miss Dragwell declared, would be nothing but retributive justice upon Mrs Forster.
"Well, then, we must be quick don't put your gown on petticoats are better I'll dress you up." Miss Dragwell rummaged the drawers, and collecting a variety of feathers and coloured ribbons, pinned them over the bandages which encircled Mrs Forster's head; then pulling out a long-tailed black coat of her husband's which had been condemned, forced her arms through it, and buttoned it in front.
Ramsden, who had been summoned to attend poor Mr Spinney, was her sole confidant, and readily entered into a scheme which was pleasing to his mistress, and promised revenge for the treatment he had received; and which, as Miss Dragwell declared, would be nothing but retributive justice upon Mrs Forster.
It was a fair wind it was a foul wind for his sloop. All his ideas were engrossed by this one darling object, and it was no easy task to divert him from it. I ought to have mentioned that Mr Dragwell, the curate, was invariably accompanied by Mr Spinney, the clerk of the parish, a little spare man, with a few white hairs straggling on each side of a bald pate.
O dear!" exclaimed Mrs Forster, jumping out of her bed with fright, and wringing her hands: "What can I do? what can I do?" "At present it is a secret, Mrs Forster, but it cannot be so long. Miss Dragwell, who feels for you very much, begged me not to say a word about it. She will call and consult with you, if you would like to see her.
"Ha, ha, ha!" roared the curate, who had just taken the last joke. "He, he, he!" "Why, yes," continued the curate, "I think it is a most excellent proposition; this melancholy affair requires a great deal of consideration. I never compose so well as I do with a pipe in my mouth: Mrs Dragwell says that she knows all my best sermons by the smell of them; d'ye take? Ha, ha, ha!" "He, he, he!"
Upon her return, the party collected at the parsonage considered that they had proceeded far enough; but Miss Dragwell thought otherwise; she had made up her mind that Mrs Forster should pass a day or two in the Lunatic Asylum; and she felt assured that Mr Ramsden, through whose assistance her intention must be accomplished, would not venture to dispute her wishes.
But Mr Dragwell did not admire such remonstrance; so taking his pipe out of his mouth, he retorted "If your husband does put up a sign, I recommend him to stick you up as the `Good Woman; that would be without your head Ha, ha, ha!" "He, he, he!" "He, he, he! you pitiful 'natomy," cried Mrs Forster, in a rage, turning to the clerk, as she dared not revenge herself upon the curate.
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