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J. Wood. Why you look as fresh and bloomy today—Adad, you little slut, I believe you are painted. Ros. O sir! you are pleased to compliment. 392 J. Wood. Adad, I believe you are—let me try— Ros. Lord, sir! T J. Wood. What brings you into this garden so often, Rossetta? I hope you don't get eating green fruit and trash; or have you a hankering after some lover in dowlas, who spoils my trees by engraving true-lovers knots on them, with your horn and buck-handled knives ? I see your name written upon the ceiling of the servants hall, with the smoak of a candle; and I suspeft

Ros. Not me,. I hope, sir—No, sir; I am of another guess mind, I assure you; for, I have heard say, men are false and fickle

J. Wood. Ay, that's your flanting, idle, young fellows; so they are: and they are so damn'd impudent, I wonder a woman will have any thing to say to them; besides, all that tlrey want is something to brag of, and tell again. 410

Ros. Why, I own, Sir, if ever I was to make a slip, it should be with an elderly gentleman—about seventy, or seventy-five years of age.

J. Wood. No, child, that's out of reason; though f have known many a man turned of three-score with a hale constitution.

Ros. Then, Sir, he should be troubled with the gout, have a good strong', substantial, winter cough—and I

I should not like him the worse—if he had a small

J. Wood. Pho, pho, Rossetta, this is jesting. . Ros. No, Sir, every body has a taste, and I have mine.

: . J..JYood. Well, but Rossetta, have you thought of what I was saying to you? Ros. What was it, Sir?

J. Wood. Ah! you know, you know, well enough, hussy.

Ros. Dear sir, consider "my soul; would you have "me endanger my soul?

J. Wood. •' No, no—Repent.

Ros. "Besides, Sir, consider," what has a poor servant to depend on but her character? And, I have heard, you gentlemen will talk one thing before, and another after.

J. Wood. I tell you again, these are the idle, flashy young dogs: but when you have to do with a staid, sober man

- Ros. And a magistrate, sir I

J. Wood, Right; it's quite a different thing Well, shall we, Rossetta, shall we?

Ros. Really, Sir, I don't know what to say to it.

touch of the rheumatism.


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and I'll shew you some alterations I intend to make in my garden. »47%

Haw. No, no, I am no judge of it; besides, I want to talk to you a little more about this—Tell me, Sir Justice, were you helping your maid to gather a sallad here, or consulting her taste in your improvements, eh i Ha, ha, ha! Let me see, all among the roses ; egad, I like your notion : but you look a little blank upon it: you are ashamed of the business, then, are you? 479


Oons! neighbour, ne'er blush for a trifle lihe this;
What harm with a fair me to toy and to hiss?
The greatest and gravesta truce with grimace-
Would do the same thing, were they in the same place.

No age, no profession, no station is free;
To sovereign beauty manhind bends the hnee:
That power, resistless, no strength can oppose,
Wt all love a pretty girl under the rose.

J. Wood. I profess, master Hawthorn, th?s-islail Indian, all Cherokee language to me; I don't under-: stand a word of it. ■?" •. 0

Haw. No, may be not: well, Sir, will you read thisJetter, and try whether you can understand that? it is just brought by a servant, who stays for an arfswer. • . .f * .ar'. ■■ •

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