Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 17.djvu/277

Rh J. B. B'uy, b'uy, Nic.; not one poor smile at parting? won't you shake your day-day, Nic.? b'uy, Nic. With that, John marched out of the common road, 'cross the country, to take possession of Ecclesdown.

HEN John had got into his castle, he seemed like Ulysses upon his plank after he had been well soused in salt water: who (as Homer says) was as glad as a judge going to sit down to dinner, after hearing a long cause upon the bench. I dare say John Bull's joy was equal to that of either of the two: he skipped from room to room; ran up stairs and down stairs, from the kitchen to the garrets, and from the garrets to the kitchen; he peeped into every cranny; sometimes he admired the beauty of the architecture, and it vast solidity of the mason's work; at other times he commended the symmetry and proportion of the rooms. He walked about the gardens; he bathed himself in the canal, swimming, diving, and beating the liquid element, like a milk-white swan. The hall resounded with the sprightly violin, and the martial hautboy. The family tript it about and capered, like hailstones bounding from a marble floor. Wine, ale, and