"Good morning, Mr. Carson! Excuse me for requesting your presence to-day
earlier than usual. I have taken it into my head to know something of my
own tenantry, and as they have pestered me with petitions, and letters,
and complaints, I am anxious to have your opinion, as you know them
better than I do."
"Before we enter on business, Colonel, allow me to inquire if you
feel relieved of that bilious attack you complained of the day before
yesterday? I'm of a bilious habit myself, and know something about the
management of digestion!"
"A good digestion is an excellent thing, Carson; as for me, I drank too
much claret with my friend B----y; and there's the secret. I don't like
cold wines, they never agree with me."
"Nor do I; they are not constitutional. Your father was celebrated
for his wines, Colonel: I remember an anecdote told me by Captain
Ferguson--by the by, do you know where Ferguson could be found, now,
sir?"
"Not I. What wines do you drink, Carson?"
"A couple of glasses of sherry, sir, at dinner; and about ten o'clock, a
glass of brandy and water."
"Carson, you are sober and prudent. Well about these cursed petitions;
you must help me to dispose of them. Why, a man would think by the tenor
of them, that these tenants of mine are ground to dust by a tyrant."
"Ah! Colonel, you know little about these fellows. They would make black
white. Go and take a ride, sir, return about four o'clock, and I will
have everything as it ought to be.
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