folks? Come now, you could give us a little news if you would; come now!-snug!-nobody by! -good now do; come, ever so little! Hart. Why, as you so largely contribute to the support of the government, it is but fair you should know what they are about.--We are at present in a treaty with the pope! Sir Greg. With the pope! "Wonderful! Good now, good now! how, how? Hart. We are to yield him up a large tract of the Terra Incognita, together with both the Needles, Scilly Rocks, and the Lizard-point, on condition that the pretender has the government of Laputa, and the bishop of Greenland succeeds to St. Peter's chair; he being, you know, a protestant, when possessed of the pontificals, issues out a bull, commanding all catholics to be of his religion; they, deeming the pope infallible, follow his directions, and then, Sir Gregory, we are all of one mind. one Sir Greg. Good lack, good lack! rare news, rare news, rare news! ten millions of thanks, Mr. Hartop! But might not I just hint this to Mr. Soakum, our vicar? 'twould rejoice his heart. Hart. O fie, by no means. Sir Greg. Only a line!—a little hint!-do now. Hart. Well, sir, it is difficult for me to refuse you any thing. Sir Greg. Ten thousand thanks! Now the pope! Wonderful! I'll minute it down ;--both the Needles? Hart. Ay, both. -the Li Sir Greg. Good now, I'll minute it ;zard-point, both the Needles, Scilly-rocks, bishop bishop of Greenland,--St. Peter's Chair. Why then, when this is finished, we may chance to attack the great Turk, and have holy wars again, Mr. Hartop? Hart. That's part of the scheme. Sir Greg. Ah! good now! you see I have a head! politics have been my study many a day. Ah, if I had been in London to improve by the news-papers!They tell me Doctor Drybones is to succeed to the bishopric of Hart. No; Doctor - [Whispers] [Whispers] Sir Greg. Indeed! I was told by my landlord at Ross, that it was between him and the dean of [Whispers.] Hart. To my knowledge it should Tim. If Hush! here's Mr. Jenkins and son Mum!-Mr. Jenkins does not know any thing about the treaty with the pope? Hart. Not a word. Sir Greg. Mum! Enter TIMOTHY and JENKINS. Jenk. Master Timothy is almost grown out of knowledge, Sir Gregory. Sir Greg. Good now, Good now! ay, ay, ill weeds grow apace. Son Tim, Mr. Hartop: a great man, child! Mr. Hartop, son Tim. Hart. Sir, I shall be always glad to know every branch that springs from so valuable a trunk as Sir Gregory Gazette. Sir Greg. May be so! Wonderful! Ay, ay! Hart, Hart. Sir, I am glad to see you in Herefordshire have you been long from Cornwall? Tim. Ay, sir; a matter of four weeks or a month, more or less. Sir Greg. Well said, Tim! ay, ay ask Tim any questions, he can answer for himself. Tim, tell Mr. Hartop all the news about the elections, and the tides, the tinners, and the roads, and the pilchers: Iwant a few words with my master Jenkins. Hart. You have been so long absent from your native country that you have almost forgot it. Tim. Yes, sure; I ha' been at uncle Tregegle's a matter of twelve or a dozen year, more or less. Hart. Then I reckon you were quite impatient to see your papa and mamma? Tim. No sure, not I. Father sent for me to uncle; sure Mavagezy is a choice place! and I could a'stay'd there all my born day, smore or less. Hart. Pray, Sir, what were your amusements. Tim. Nan? what do you say ? Hart. How did you divert yourself? Tim. Oh, we ha pastimes enow there: we habull-baiting, and cock-fighting, and fishing, and hunting, and hurling, and wrestling. Hart. The two last are sports for which that country is very remarkable: in those, I presume, you are very expert? Tim. Nan? what? Hart. I say you are a good wrestler? Tim. Oh yes sure, I can wrestle well enow: but we don't wrestle after your fashion; we ha'no tripping; fath and soul? we all go upon close hugs or or the flying mare. Will you try a fall, master? I wan't hurt you, fath and soul. Hart. We had as good not venture though. But have you left in Cornwall nothing that you regret the loss of more than hurling and wrestling? Tim. Nan? what? Hart. No favourite she? Tim. Arra, I coupled Favourite and Jowler together, and sure they tugg'd it all the way up. Part with Favourite! no I thank you for nothing: you must know I nursed Favourite myself; uncle's huntsman was going to mill-pond to drown all Music's puppies; so I saved she: but, fath, I'll tell you a comical story; at Lanston they both broke loose and eat a whole loin-a'-veal and a leg of beef: Crist! how landlord swear'd! fath, the poor fellow was almost mazed; it made me die wi' laughing : but how came you to know about our Favourite? Hart. A circumstance, so material to his son, could not escape the knowledge of Sir Gregory Gazette's friends. But here you mistook me a little, 'Squire Tim; I meant whether your affections were not settled upon some pretty girl; has not some Cornish lass caught your heart? Tim. Hush! 'god, the old man will hear ; jog a tiny bit this way;-won't a' tell father? Hart. Upon my honour! Tim. Why then I'll tell you the whole story, more or less. Do you know Mally Pengrouse ? Hart. I am not so happy. Tim. She's uncle's milkmaid; she's as handsome, lord! her face all red and white, like the inside of a shoulder of mutton: so I made love to our Mally; and just, fath, as I had got her good will to run àway to Exeter and be married, uncle found it out and sent word to father, and father sent for me home; but I don't love her a bit the worser for that: but, 'icod, if you tell father he'll knock my brains out, for he says I'll disparage the family, and mother's as mad as a March hare about it; so father and mother ha' brought me to be married to some young body in these parts. Hart. What, is my lady here? Tim. No sure, Dame Winifred, as father calls her, could not come along. Hart. I am sorry for that; I have the honour to be a distant relation of her ladyship. Tim. Like enough, fath! she's a-kin to half the world, I think. But don't you say a word to father about Mally Pengrouse. Hush! Jenk. Mr. Hartop, Sir Gregory will be amongst us some time; he is going with his son to Sir Penurious Trifle's; there is a kind of a treaty of marriage on foot between Miss Sukey Trifle and Mr. Timothy. Hart. The devil!. I shall be glad of every circumstance that can make me better acquainted with Sir Gregory. Sir Greg. Good now, good now! may may be so. be so Tim. Father, sure the gentleman says as how mother and he are a-kin. Sir Greg. Wonderful! lack-a-day! lack-a-day! how, how? I am proud to But how, Mr. Hartop, how? Hart. Why, sir, a cousin-german of my aunt's first husbandinter-inarried with a distant relation of |