The run, run, run.
In the morning she did rise,
And she filled his house with cries,
And she rattled in his ears like a
Drum, drum, drum.'
"Now the stupid oaf began to discover his blunder, – but perhaps you've had enough."
Cries of "Go on! Go on!"
"Well, then, listen to his fate and take warning, —
"'To the doctor he did go
With his heart well filled with woe,
Crying, "Doctor I am quite
Undone, done, done.
Now she's turned a scolding wife
And I'm weary of my life,
For I cannot make her hold
Her tongue, tongue, tongue."
"'The doctor thus did say —
"When she went from me away
She was perfectly cured of being
Dumb, dumb, dumb.
But it's beyond the art of man,
Let him do the best he can,
For to make a scolding woman hold
Her tongue, tongue, tongue."'"
Roars of applause greeted the ending of the performance. In the midst of it Ingle crossed the room to the end of the table where Sheriff Ellyson was seated.
"Come, Sheriff, since you and I are met, let us sit down at the further end of the board where our conversation may not disturb these gentlemen."
With this he drew up a stool for himself, and as the mugs of ale were quaffed and the pipes emptied, one after another of the bibbers and smokers reached for his cap, and moved out into the darkness with a muttered good-night, till at last none were left but Neale and Cornwaleys, two men in high standing in the colony and close friends of Governor Brent.
Meanwhile Captain Ingle made vast inroads upon the mighty haunch of venison which the landlord set before him with obsequious attention, and a pasty with five small birds stewed together vanished into his capacious stomach without appearing to diminish his appetite. "Let us have prawns," he called to the landlord, "prawns and cheese to finish with, and brown ale from one of the hogsheads I brought in The Reformation. I always call for that," he added with a wink to Cornwaleys, "when I want something extra good. When you drink what you bring, you know what you get."
"Ay," responded Ellyson jovially, "trundle it up, landlord, cask and all, and we will help ourselves. You may go to bed and welcome, for we mean to make a night on't. Who gets the ale-cask needs no host."
"But who will lock the door?"
"Why, we, to be sure!"
"Faith!" cried the landlord with a shout of laughter, "I've seen ye both after a night's drinking bout, and neither one of you could keep your legs or lift hand to mouth, let alone turning key or drawing bolt."
"Then we'll stay till you are up in the morning," roared Ingle, "and woe to the thief who dares intrude upon the majesty of the law as represented by Sheriff Ellyson, or the rights of freemen supported by the sword of Richard Ingle."
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