Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 17.djvu/210

204 old fellow, in a black wig, with a black beard, without teeth: there's another thick squat fellow, in trunk-hose: the third is a little, long-nosed, thin man (I was then lean, being just come out of a fit of sickness). I suppose it is fit to send after them, lest they carry something away."

Mrs. B. I fancy this put the old fellow in a rare tweague.

J. B. Weak as he was, he called for his long toledo, swore and bounced about the room, "'Sdeath! what am I come to, to be affronted so by my tradesmen? I know the rascals: my barber, clothier, and linendraper dispose of my estate! bring hither my blunderbuss. I'll warrant ye, you shall see daylight through them. Scoundrels! dogs! the scum of the earth! Frog, that was my fathers kitchenboy! he pretend to meddle with my estate! with my will! Ah poor Strutt! what art thou come to at last? Thou hast lived too long in the world, to see thy age and infirmity so despised: how will the ghosts of my noble ancestors receive these tidings? They cannot, they must not sleep quietly in their graves." In short, the old gentleman was carried off in a fainting fit; and, after bleeding in both arms, hardly recovered.

Mrs. B. Really this was a very extraordinary way of proceeding: I long to hear the rest of it.

J. B. After we had come back to the tavern, and taken t'other bottle of Champagne, we quarrelled a little about the division of the estate. Lewis hauled and pulled the map on one side, and Frog and I on the other, till we had like to have torn the parchment to pieces. At last Lewis pulled out a pair of great tailors sheers, and clipped a corner for himself, which he