but this is not the case, he has nothing to think of, and is delighted when the bully goes on with his gasconading to him. Only think, cousin, because he is not permitted to blow any more, he whistles, or lisps a little with his tongue all his old dreampeter airs for hours together into my husband’s ears; when he tells of campaigns, at times, with his mouth screwed up, he imitates the sounds of appelle, and retreat, the attack, every thing; or he beats i with his long stork-fingers on the table, which then is to represent the dulcimer or the harpichord, and thus does he play the harpichord as it is called before my old husband the live-long day and he talks of x sharp and z soft, and crosses and stories of fughes and passages, such gibberdish, that one might loose one’s senses, looking at these two fools wasting their time. The lanky fellow frequently assits in searching for herbs, and makes out of old rags a lineament for wounds, or cooks a mixture, and syrup quackery,
