It has just occurred to me, that I
might have saved you and myself much trouble had I at once told you that
aunt Cheeseman is a regular _Ring-worm_.
But, to my uncle--the only finery sported by him (and I hardly think it
deserving that word), besides a silver watch, sound and true as the owner,
and the very prototype of his bulk and serenity, was a gold snuff-box, a
large and handsome one, which he did not esteem for its intrinsic weight;
he had a "lusty pride" in showing that it was a prize gained in some
skilful agricultural contest. I am sorry at not recollecting what was
engraven on it; but being a thorough Cockney, and knowing nothing more of
the plough and harrow than that I have somewhere observed it as a tavern
sign, must plead for my ignorance in out-o'-town matters.
You can remember, no doubt, the day the Queen went to dine with the City
Nabobs at Guildhall. Cheeseman hurried impatiently to London for the sole
purpose of _seeing_ the sight, and upon finding my liking for the
spectacle as powerful as his own, declared I was the only sensible child
my mother ever had, and adding that as he was well able to push his way
through a Lunnon crowd, if my father and mother were willing, under his
protection I should see this grand affair.
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