and turned the brew-houſe into a pinery.—The high octagon ſummer-houſe, you ſee yonder, is raiſed on the maſt of a ſhip, given me by an Eaſt-India captain, who has turned many a thouſand of my money. It commands the whole road. All the coaches and chariots, and chaiſes, paſs and repaſs under your eye. I'll mount you up there in the afternoon, my Lord. 'Tis the pleaſanteſt place in the world to take a pipe and a bottle,—and ſo you ſhall ſay, my Lord.
Lord Ogle. Ay—or a bowl of punch, or a can of flip, Mr. Sterling! for it looks like a cabin in the air.—If flying chairs were in uſe, the captain might make a voyage to the Indies in it ſtill, if he had but a fair wind.
Canton. Ha! ha! ha! ha!
Mrs. Heidel. My brother's a little comacal in his ideas, my Lord!—But you'll excuſe him.—I have a little gothic dairy, fitted up entirely in my own taſte.—In the evening I ſhall hope for the honour of your Lordſhip's company to take a diſh of tea there, or a ſullabub warm from the cow.
Lord Ogle. I have every moment a freſh opportunity of admiring the elegance of Mrs. Heidelberg—the very flower of delicacy, and cream of politeneſs.
| Mrs. Heidel. O my Lord! | leering at each other. | |
| Lord Ogle. O Madam! |
Sterl. How d'ye like theſe cloſe walks, my Lord?
Lord Ogle. A moſt excellent ſerpentine! It forms a perfect maze, and winds like a true-lover's knot.
Sterl. Ay—here's none of your ſtrait lines here—but all taſte—zig-zag—crinkum crankum—in and out—right and left—to and again—twiſting and turning like a worm, my Lord!
Lord Ogle. Admirably laid out indeed, Mr. Sterling! one can hardly ſee an inch beyond one's noſe any where in theſe walks.—You are a moſt excellent œconomiſt of your land, and make a little go a great way.—It lies together in as ſmall parcels as if it was
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