“Hang names!” said the Pythagorean. “What’s Pharoh better than Phebus, or Phebus than Pharoh?”
“Hang them both,” said the Cynic.
“Don’t be prophane,” said Mrs Sistagatist.
“Why?” said Mrs Nannicantipot, “I don’t think it’s prophane to say ‘Hang Pharoh.’” “Oh,” said Mrs Sinagain. “I'm sure you ought to hold your tongue, for you never say any thing about the scriptures, & you hinder your husband from going to church.”
“Ha, Ha!” said Inflammable Gass. “What! don’t you like to go to church?”
“No,” said Mrs Nannicantipot. “I think a person may be as good at home.”
“If I had not a place of profit that forces me to go to church”, said Inflammable Gass, “I’d see the parsons all hang’d, – a parcel of lying—“
“O!” said Mrs Sigtagatist. “If it was not for churches & chapels I should not have liv’d so long. There was I, up in a Morning at four o’clock when I was a Girl. I would run like the dickins till I was all in a heat. I would stand till I was ready to sink into the earth. Ah, Mr Huffcap would kick the bottom of the Pulpit out, with Passion, would tear off the sleeve of his Gown & set his wig on fire & throw it at the people. He’d cry & stamp & kick & sweat and all for the good of their souls.”
“I’m sure he must be a wicked villain,” said Mrs Nannicantipot, “a passionate wretch. If I was a man I’d wait at the bottom of the pulpit stairs & knock him down & run away!”
“You would, you Ignorant jade? I wish I could see you hit any of the ministers! You deserve to have your ears boxed you do.”
“Im sure this is not religion answers the [PAGE 5] other.
Then Mr Inflammable Gass ran & shov’d his head into the fire & set his [head] hair all in a flame & ran about the room. No–no, he did not; I was only making a fool of you.