Page:Doctor Syn - A Smuggler Tale of the Romney Marsh.djvu/276

 "Now, come, my good Transome, you disrespectful dog. I'll not have you chiding me, upon my soul I won't, for I have a most damned head on me this forenoon. I generally do get a damned bad head on me o' Sundays. All a-buzz, I declare, and it's those damned exasperating church bells. I never met anything so persistent in my life. They go on, they go on, and there's no stopping them, now is there? As plentiful as bills are church bells and just as taxing to the nerves. If ever I have to oblige the blasted Parliament by sleeping in it, I shall endeavour to keep awake to vote for the abolishment of church bells."

"And you might, sir, at the same time do away with bills. It would be most convenient, wouldn't it, sir?"

"Well, I suppose it would. If I ever do get in, which I think extremely unlikely, for which I most heartily thank my Maker, knowing how unutterably bored I should become, but if ever I do get in, I will most certainly abolish bills and bells, and if there should be any other little thing that you think might sensibly be abolished, why, you must jog my memory, Transome, and jog it hard, won't you, my dear fellow, for you know what a memory I have? Damned bad, upon my soul it is!"

"Ah, sir," sighed the valet, "you will become a great orator, a very great orator."

"I might, my dear fellow, I really might, although I am positive that I shan't, because, you see, I know that