Among the prominent features of Mrs. Lobkins' mind was a sovereign contempt for the unsuccessful;—the imprudence and ill-luck of Paul occasioned her as much scorn as compassion. And when, for the third time within a week, he stood, with a rueful visage and with vacant pockets, by the dame's great chair, requesting an additional supply, the tides of her wrath swelled into overflow.
"Look you, my kinchin cove," said she,—and in order to give peculiar dignity to her aspect, she put on, while she spoke, a huge pair of tin spectacles,—"if so be as how you goes for to think as how I shall go for to supply your wicious necessities, you will find yourself planted in Queer Street. Blow me tight, if I gives you another mag."
"But I owe Long Ned a guinea," said Paul, "and Dummie Dunnaker lent me three crowns. It ill becomes your heir-apparent, my dear dame, to fight shy of his debts of honour."
"Taradididle, don't think for to wheedle me with your debts and your honour," said the dame in a passion. "Long Ned is as long in the forks (fingers) as he is in the back: may Old Harry fly off with him! and as for Dummie Dunnaker, I wonders
