Baptist Kettleby (for so was the Master named) was a "goodly portly man, and a corpulent," whose fair round paunch bespoke the affection he entertained for good liquor and good living. Then we find out. "Curse you! Where are the bailiffs? Rot you! have you lost your tongue? Devil seize you! you could bawl loud enough a moment ago!" "Silence, Blueskin!" interposed an authoritative voice, immediately behind the ruffian. " Thus urged, the damsels began to raise their voices in loud lamentation. Here was a terrific figure gnashing his teeth, and howling like a wild beast;—there a lover, with hands clasped together and eyes turned passionately upward. " "So it seems," observed the woollen-draper, "and for every one else, too.
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