to give it up, else it will injure the quality of your flour."
"A Radical maxim!" said Mr Sircome, in a tone of angry astonishment. "I should like to hear you prove that. It's as old as my grandfather, anyhow."
"I'll prove it in one minute," said the glib Christian. "Reform has set in by the will of the majority—that's the rabble, you know; and the respectability and good sense of the country, which are in the minority, are afraid of Reform running on too fast. So the stream must be running towards Reform and Radicalism; and if you swim with it, Mr Sircome, you're a Reformer and a Radical, and your flour is objectionable, and not full weight—and being tried by Scales, will be found wanting." There was a roar of laughter. This pun upon Scales was highly appreciated by every one except the miller and the butler. The latter pulled down his waistcoat, and puffed and stared in rather an excited manner. Mr Christian's wit, in general, seemed to him a poor kind of quibbling.
"What a fellow your are for fence. Christian," said the gardener. "Hang me, if I don't think you're up to everything."
"That's a compliment you might pay Old Nick, if you come to that," said Mr Sircome, who was
