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And it was that day done. There were so many Swidgers there, grown up and children, that an attempt to state them in round numbers might engender doubts, in the distrustful, of the veracity of this history. Therefore the attempt shall not be made.
Why, what with cousins, uncles, aunts, and relationships of this, that, and t'other degree, and whatnot degree, and marriages, and lyings-in, the Swidgers Tumbler might take hold of hands, and make a ring round England!" Receiving no reply at all here, from the thoughtful man whom he addressed, Mr.
"True, William," was the patient and abstracted answer, when he stopped again. "Yes, sir," said Mr. Swidger. "That's what I always say, sir. You may call him the trunk of the tree! Bread. Then you come to his successor, my unworthy self Salt and Mrs. William, Swidgers both. Knife and fork. Then you come to all my brothers and their families, Swidgers, man and woman, boy and girl.
Oh dear, yes!" said Mr. Swidger, still proceeding with his preparations, and checking them off as he made them. "That's where it is, sir. That's what I always say myself, sir. Such a many of us Swidgers! Pepper. Why there's my father, sir, superannuated keeper and custodian of this Institution, eighty- seven year old. He's a Swidger! Spoon."
William approached, him nearer, and made a feint of accidentally knocking the table with a decanter, to rouse him. The moment he succeeded, he went on, as if in great alacrity of acquiescence. "Yes, sir! That's just what I say myself, sir. Mrs. William and me have often said so. 'There's Swidgers enough, we say, 'without OUR voluntary contributions, Butter.
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