Abimelech Henley to Frank Henley

Wenbourne-Hill

Why what be all a this here? What is it that a be about, dolt? Here's a rumpus! Here's a fine to do! You be a pretty squire Nicodemus Nincompoop! You a son of my own begettin, feedin, and breedin! You seeze the fulhams! Why they would a draw your i teeth for ee! Marry come fairly! You the jennyalogy of my own body and loins? No, by lady! And so squire my lord Timothy Doodle has a bin flib gibberd, and queerumd, after all? Thof if so be as notwithstandin a that Missee, my younk lady, had as good as a bin playin at catch me come kiss me, and all in the dark with'n; and thof I had a sifflicated the Sir Dandle Dunderpate, a here a do stand, a suckin his thumbs! Thof so be as how I told him to make up to Missee, and the twenty thousand pounds! What, a didn't I put words into your mouth, as good as a ready butterd, as I may say? What, a didn't I give ee all your pees and cues? Because as why, I did a know a wus a quaumee kintlin. And so a has played with the mouse and has a lost it at last! A fine kettle of fish a's made on't! Whereof forsooth, so as that now as that all o'the fat's in the fire, why I must a be set to catch the colt if I can. Why ay, to be sure! Whereby if so be as the Gaby goose may now go barefoot! And a whose fault is that? No! A wouldn't a be akin to a good estate; not he!

But harkee me chit! Mind what I be about to say to ee, Simon the simple, and mayhap thinks may become to be komparissuble and parallel to the yellow hammers and the chink, for all of all this here rig royster. For why? I can put a spoke in the wheel of the marriage act and deed. Madam Clifton wonnot a budge a finger, to the signin and sealin of her gratification of applause, whereby as if so be as that the kole a be not a forth cummin, down on the nail head. And where now might Timothy Tipkin sifflicate that it may behappen to be for to come from? Pummel thy pumkin, and a tell me that, Peter Grievous. Where, but out of my pouche, Gaby? That is, I first havin and holdin the wherewithalls, and the whys, and the wherefores. Do you take me now? So that forsooth, some folks may behappen to cry peccavi.

Whereby mind what I do tell ee. For why? I've as good as a told Sir Arthur the wind is a not to be raised for any of a sitch of a flammbite of a tale of a tub. Whereby I a told'n a bit of my mind. And if so be as if a will wince, a mayhap it may come to pass that I can kick. A shall find I was not a bred and a born and a begotten yesterday. An a champ upon it, let'n. An a will run rusty, mayhap a may belike to get his head in a hedge. So mind what I do say to ee; and tell 'em that they may a behappen to find that your father is somebody, and that you are his son. A tell 'em that.

So do you strike up to Missee boldly. Mind what ee be at; and let 'em like it or leave it. For if so be as when a man has a got the Marygolds, why then let'n begin to speak for himself. Why not?

Whereby I have now once again given the costard monger his pees and his cues. So that if so be as if a do find that sweet sauce be good for goose, why let'n a give his tongue an oilin. But if so be as a do find a be Sir Arthur Crabvarjus o'the high ropes, why then says you, look ee me says you, honest Aby is my father; and when a man has a got the wherewithalls, why a begins to be somebody, and mayhap a's as good as another. A tell 'em that.

And so no more at present; a savin and exceptin of the all bountifool glory of the everlastin praise of joys eternal, livin and hopin for time to repent us of all our manifold sins, and of a dyin in peace and charity with all men. Whereby we shall be sure to partake of the resurrection of the just sheep, and of the virgin oil in our lamps, and of the martyrs and of the profits and of the saints everlastin rest.

ABIMELECH HENLEY