Chapter III: One of John Dutfen's "queeries."

I am werry much obligated to yeou, Mr Editer, for printin' my lines. I hain't got no more at spresent, so I'll send yeou a queery instead. I axed our skule-master, "What's a queery?" and he saa, "Suffen {43a} queer," so I think I can sute yeou here.

When I was a good big chap, I lived along with Mr Cooper, of Thraanson. {43b} He was a big man; but, lawk! he was wonnerful paad over with rheumatics, that he was. I lived in the house, and arter I had done up my hosses, and looked arter my stock, I alluz went to bed arly. One night I h'ard {43c} my missus halloin' at the bottom of the stairs. "John," sez she, "yeou must git up di-rectly, and go for the doctor; yar master's took werry bad." So I hulled {43d} on my clothes, put the saddle on owd Boxer, and warn't long gittin to the doctor's, for the owd hoss stromed along stammingly, {43e} he did. When the doctor come, he saa to master, "Yeou ha' got the _lump-ague_ in yar lines; {43f} yeou must hiv a hot baath." "What's that?" sez master. "Oh!" sez the doctor, "yeou must hiv yar biggest tub full o' hot water, and laa in it ten minnits." Sune as he was gone, missus saa, "Dew yeou go and call Sam Driver, and I'll hit {44a} the copper." When we cum back, she saa, "Dew yeou tew {44b} take the mashin'-tub up-stairs, and when the water biles yeou cum for it." So, byne by we filled the tub, and missus saa, "John, dew yeou take yar master's hid; {44c} and Sam, yeou take his feet, and drop 'im in." We had a rare job to lift him, I warrant; but we dropt him in, and, O lawk! how he did screech!--yeou might ha' h'ard 'im a mile off. He splounced out o' the tub flop upon the floor, and dew all we could we coon't 'tice him in agin. "Yeou willans," sez he, "yeou've kilt me." But arter a bit we got him to bed, and he laa kind o' easy, till the doctor cum next mornin'. Then he towd the doctor how bad he was. The doctor axed me what we'd done. So I towd him, and he saa, "Was the water warm?" "Warm!" sez I, "'twould ommost ha' scalt a hog." Oh, how he did laff! "Why, John bor," sez he, "yeou must ha' meant to bile yar master alive." Howsomdiver, master lost the _lump-ague_ and nivver sed nothin' about the tub, 'cept when he saa to me sometimes kind o' joky, "John bor, dew yeou alluz kip {44d} out o' hot water."

JOHN DUTFEN. {44e}

This story has a sequel. My father told it once at the dinner-table of one of the canons in Norwich. Every one laughed more or less, all but one, the Rev. "Hervey Du Bois," a rural dean from the Fens. He alone made no sign. But he was staying in the house; and that night the Canoness was aroused from her sleep by a strange gurgling sound proceeding from his room. She listened and listened, till, convinced that their guest must be in a fit, she at last arose, and listened outside his door. A fit he was in--sure enough--of laughter. He was sitting up in bed, rocking backwards and forwards, and ever and again ejaculating, "Why, John bor, yeou must ha' meant to bile yar master alive." And then he went off into another roar.