_How =John= consulted with his friends about the method of retrieving
his affairs._
John was a great person for collecting his friends together to have
their advice, but for the most part he did just what he pleased for
all that; and he had always some point or other in his head, in which
it was in vain to contradict him. This was the case now about the
malversations of his servants, and though there were many people
disposed to soften him, not a mortal durst put in a word. In the
height of his passion he abused every thing that had been done, right
or wrong, for many years before. They had neglected his new farm upon
the common, and sent his horses, his ploughs and carts, to labour
Sir Thomas’s land in the east country; they had run him in debt over
head and ears, pawned his plate, and mortgaged his estate; they had
made his wife, who used to be a notable woman, a mere sot, with ale,
brandy, and slops. The nurse had even spoilt his own stomach with nasty
mawkish warm drinks, and over-heating his ale. With all this in his
head, whenever he went to any of the neighbouring towns, he instantly
repaired to the coffee-house, and poured all forth to the first
person he met. All the world admired the vigour of his spirit, and the
honesty of his intentions, even when he carried matters too far; and
we all know, that if the father of such a family does not make a noise
sometimes, affairs will be managed but so so.
About this time of which we are now speaking, John had a circle about
him wherever he went, and talked of his affairs from morning to night.
He testified a particular aversion to the employing of Rousterdivel
any more, swore that he himself never would cross the lake upon any
body’s errands, and that if any body came over to meddle with him, he
would show them that he could defend himself. In all which, Jowler
encouraged him strongly, and repeated every word John could say, in a
much higher tone than himself; and next to the point of getting fixed
in the management of the business, seemed to have nothing more at
heart, than to break off all idle connections, to keep John at home,
and put a gun in his own hands, to avoid the disgrace of running to
other people for protection on every trifling alarm. Whatever might be
done afterwards, Jowler knew this was no time to baulk John in any of
his fancies; and accordingly, he assisted in all his consultations, and
nobody so loud as he.
One day, when John’s tongue was running on God knows where, he was
asked by some of his friends what he intended to do. Do you intend,
said they, to ask Lewis Baboon’s pardon for striking him in the manner
you did, or do you persist in the design of giving him gentlemany
satisfaction? I tell you what, says John, if Lewis Baboon had a
thousand Cracket-islands of mine, and that he would give me them all
for asking his pardon, I would not do it. He is a vile, over-reaching,
undermining, treacherous rogue, and there never will be any peace in
the neighbourhood, as long as that fair-tongued rascal is out of his
grave. Let him come out in his barge again, and I shall meet him; but
I know the rascal, he has perpetually some bad design in his head, and
when he is found out, he will bow and scrape, and make compliments; but
he does not lay it aside for all that, he only waits for a time to put
it in execution, not in a fair gentlemany way, but behind your back,
or when you are asleep, or indisposed: but I will dress his jacket for
him, if I find him put his nose upon the lake again.
But only suppose then, said they, that he should slip over in the
night, as he has often threatened, with a parcel of his game keepers,
and take possession of your parlour and bed-chamber, which are worth
more than Cracket-Island to him, do you think, he will give you time to
send for Rousterdivel, as you used to do?
All the fires of Sodom and Gomorrah seize me, says John, if ever I
send for Rousterdivel with his great tobacco-pipe, his sour crout, and
his damned lingo, that nobody can understand. Odds-blood, an’t I as
good a man as Rousterdivel or Lewis Baboon? Though I have not so many
game-keepers, yet I have as good clean-made fellows about my farm as
he; and if my own children will let me be insulted, it is time that
John Bull was gone the way of all flesh.
But what can your children do for you, said they, when your wife, and
your nurse, and your steward, will not let one of them touch a gun or
a cutlass, and think there is no safety but in the dark cellar, or the
coal-hole, when there is any disturbance in the yard.
Well, says John, I shall tell them another tale; my boys shall learn to
defend me as they used to do. I have seen the time when the stoutest
of them all durst not meddle with me, and that time shall return again,
if I can get arms enough to furnish my hall, as I always had it, till
now.