"Now, Susan, don't ill-treat Mr Vanslyperken: I purtest against all
ill-treatment."

"Ill-treat, Mrs Salisbury! I am only giving him a lesson in
purliteness."

"Now, Mr What-the-devil's-your-name, you must drink off a glass of my
burnt brandy, or I shall be jealous," cried another; "and when I am
jealous I always takes to red-hot pokers." Resistance was in vain, the
poker was again taken from between the bars, and the burnt brandy
went down.

Again and again was Mr Vanslyperken forced to pour down his throat all
that was offered to him, or take the chance of having his nose
burnt off.

"Is it not wrong to mix your liquors in this way, Mr Vanslyperken?"
said Moggy, in bitter mockery.

The first allowance brought in was now despatched, and the bell rung,
and double as much more ordered, to Vanslyperken's great annoyance; but
he was in the hands of the Philistines. What made the matter worse, was,
that the company grew every moment more uproarious, and there was no
saying when they would stop.

"A song--a song--a song from Mr Vanslyperken," cried one of the party.

"Hurrah! yes, a song from the jolly lieutenant."