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not call him a hunks for all that. One half of it I'm sure would have made any other man pass for a very curmudgeon. What has such a man to do with a wife, unless he could get some sober young lady, educated two hundred years ago, who has kept herself young and fresh all the while in some cave under ground along with the seven sleepers, to start up to his hand and say, "pray have me?"—As for my master, he would remain a bachelor if he could; but we young fellows who have only our persons for our patrimony, must dispose of them in their prime, when they will fetch the highest price.

DAVID.

To be sure, to be sure! Princesses a piece for you! young men, now a days, are mightily puffed up in their own conceits. They are colts without a bridle, but they bite upon the bit at last. They are butterflies in the sun, but a rainy day washes the colour off their wings. They sail down the stream very briskly, but it carries them over the ca-cartica——cataract (what ye call a water-fall ye know) at last.

JENKINS.

Faith, David! you string up so many what do ye call 'em similitudes in your discourse, there is no understanding it: you are just like that there poet in the green chamber, that writes upon the windows.

DAVID.

He, drivling fellow! he has not sense enough to