Edward accordingly went to him, and in Marly's hearing, spoke to old Quaco thus, -- "Commence at the base of yonder elevation, ascend to the summit shortly after the luminary of day attains the meridian, and by the time Phoebus sinks in the western horizon, let an angle, parallel with the base of the morning commencement, be the conclusion of the day's manual labour." With the exception of the hand being pointed towards the elevation where the work was to be done, the whole lingo was downright Greek to Quaco ; but he answered with a bow, "Yes, busha ," and the Busha retired. Quaco knowing that the book-keeper was within ear-shot all the time, went and asked him, "What hab busha say ?" "I dinna weel ken ," was the reply of the book-keeper, "but I'll gang in and leuk at the dictionair ." If the first was Greek, this might be said to be real Gaelic to poor Quaco, who new as little of the Scotch dialect as he did of meridians, horizons, angles, and parallels; but remembering that the busha said something about Phoebus, he thought he might want him, and accordingly he posted to the negro huts in the search, and immediately finding Phoebus, Quaco hied him away to the busha.

When they were passing several of the negroes in the yard at the back of the house, he observed a smile on their faces, which he took to himself; but, if he had not, it would soon have been confirmed to him beyond a doubt, that he was the subject; for when they thought he was beyond hearing, he heard one of them exclaim to the others, " Eh! mosquitoes, hab grandy nyamn on dat new buckra !"
Marly being ignorant of the negro corrupted dialect, or the talkee talkee language, did not understand the expression; but observing Graceson to smile, with combined smothered feelings of anger and shame, he asked an explanation of what the negro had said. Graceson laughing, answered, that "the negro only meant, that the mosquitoes had had an excellent feast on your rich blood."

Seeing his associates fearful and undetermined, Cambridge cried to them, "Believe him not! death, instead of freedom and wealth, await you, if massa lives;" and to Grandison he exclaimed in the same breath, "No, no, massa ! you never forgive one of us for begging" -- meaning for mercy. Saying which, Cambridge had adjusted the rope round his master's neck, unmindful of his rending cries for mercy, and, thereupon, strangled him. -- In this manner terminated the life of Grandison, for being a strict, and consequently a cruel, disciplinarian.

The storm still increased, but Mrs. Higgins could not prevail upon Sir James to stay till it was over; she therefore fetched her umbrella, and did all in her power to persuade him to put on a great coat of her husband's, which he at first refused.
" La! now, do ye pray Sir , put on *our measter's great quoate* , I assure ye 'twill kip out all the roin , for Walter is despert subject to the rheumatics in his feace, and ou * had it made wi such on high collar as it do cover'n up quite to the nause ."*
"I shall not want it, Mrs. Higgins," replied Sir James, "I am much obliged to you, but the umbrella will do vastly well."
" La ! why Sir, there! 'tis very bold of I to be sartin , to ask you to put on a poor man's quoate ; and perhaps a great gentleman like you mayn't chuse it; but there! I begs pardon ; and I assure you Walter is very clean and dessent *; and he has never worn it but three times."
* Our measter's , my husband's; quoate , coat; roin , rain; ou , him, or her; nause , nose; dessent , decent.
The most learned etymologists have referred these terms to the language of the Indigenae, called by Caesar "Dobuni." Schweighauser supposes that the original dialect was the genuine " Strood Waater ," from the Celtic.

She told him in a strange jargon , that she was with a gang of gypsies who had stationed themselves about a mile off; that she had concealed herself for fear of being beaten, as she had failed in purloining some ducks they had sent her after; and just as she had finished her tale, Sir James heard a voice calling out "Deb! Deb! where are you? I'll make you repent running away!" and immediately a gypsey woman made her appearance.
The poor girl flew up to him, and instinctively caught hold of his coat. "Oh! save me! save me!" she cried, "I shall be killed! my mother will kill me!" It immediately struck Sir James as impossible that this beautiful creature could be the offspring of a copper-coloured race; her auburn hair, and fair, though sun-burnt complexion, plainly evinced she was of a different parentage. "Woman!" said he, (in an authorative tone,) "how did this child come to be amongst you?" " I be her mother ." "It is false! and if you do not confess the truth, I will have you all taken up and punished as you deserve."
The sybil staid to hear no more; she ran away, muttering execrations through the wood, leaving poor Deb behind.
"Are you willing to leave these people, child?" said Sir James.
"Oh yes, I be very willing, I hate to be de thief." "Well then follow me; I will order my housekeeper to find you some employment. But is that woman really your mother?"
"Oh yes, she be my mother, but me dont love her, she beat me every day." And then pulling down the dirty rags which covered her shoulders, the poor girl shewed the marks of blows on her delicate skin.

The girl persisted that the gypsey woman Sir James spoke to, was her mother, and she never remembered having been with any other set of people besides these vagrants; and by the strange gibberish she spoke, it was very apparent, she never had been taught a better language.
"Well, however things may be enveloped in mystery," cried Mrs. Cameron, "I am sure this child is of no vulgar origin. I hope Mrs. Nelson, she will not be employed about any laborious or menial offices."
"No, Madam, I wanted a girl very much to assist me in the still room, and in pickling and preserving, and I shall instruct her in these things, as she seems very docile. And if she is a good girl, I will teach her to read; and Mr. Sloane the house steward has taken a great fancy to her, and says he will teach her to write."
"That is very kind indeed," returned Mrs. Cameron, "I hope you will be very grateful."
" Me dont know what be grateful ," said the girl, "but me love Madam Nelson, she be very kind to me, me do all she tell me ."
"Should you like to go back again to your mother?"
"Oh no! no! me hope never see gypsey more ; they use me very bad , and make me de thief."
"Well," said Mrs. Cameron, "you shall not go back to them. But you must endeavour to talk like Mrs. Nelson, and to learn to read and write, and I will give you books, and perhaps may instruct you in some things myself, when I come into this country again."
"Thank you me lady, very good me lady," cried the girl, dropping an awkward curtsey at every sentence, " me try all day long , for me speak like me lady. "

"How d'ye do Molly?" said Clarendon, "have you heard any thing of your master lately?" "Yes Sir," replied the girl, making an aukward curtesy, " Mr. Slone had a letter yesterday, and master is coming here for a few days soon, but ou wo'nt stop long; for I finds he is going down into Wales."
Charles, who wanted to come to the point, asked Molly who the young lady was she had met. "Miss Fletcher, the parson's daughter, Sir," replied the girl. "But the other young lady," returned Clarendon. "Young lady, Sir," exclaimed Molly, giggling, " 'tis no young lady, but the gypsey wench, as our master brought home with him . A proud, insolent minx, as will hardly speak to her betters ; for I thinks myself her betters. I was born of honest, dessent parents, and dont belong to no thieves and vagabonds ." "You must mistake young woman, you and I cannot mean the same person."
" La yes we does Sir, I don't wonder as how you took her for a lady, to be sure , she has the impudence to dress like one. And the parson's daughter, have made her think more of herself than she did before, by filling her head wi a * passel of larning and nonsense, not fit for a poor wench as must work for her bread . But she is a genius it seems, and much good it will do her. She will be a kept madam, or some such thing; for what sober honest man would take up wi such fal lal trumpery as that for a wife?" "You don't seem to like her Molly." "Why no Sir, I wonder how I should. An old sarvant like I , who have lived in the family these six years, and worn myself out, must needs think it very hard, to have such a wench as that set above me." "Nay Molly," said Clarendon, "you don't look much as if you were worn out I think, with that fine bloom in your cheeks. It don't appear as if your constitution was hurt by hard work."
" La Sir," replied Molly, simpering, " I dare say I do look all of a blowze now. I'ze been walking so fast, and put myself in a bit of a heat , cause I was sent after that hussy. For Madam Nelson wanted her home from the parson's, (where she has been for ever so long,) backwards and forwards, cause master was coming home, and there was a deal to do. I wonders what would be said, if other sarvants was to go out when they saw fit, and stay as long as they liked?"

" Why you be always a persuading I to go to tabernacle , Mrs. Gauge, and there I did think to ha goane to day, but the volk did zay our Rector was growd a despert vine mon , and I wanted to hear un . Thof to be zure , nif I had know'd as much as I do now, I would ha goane this morning to hear measter Rousem. I didn't understond one word the parson zed , except Messopotamia, ou vas so despert vine . To my mind nif ministers be ever so larned , they should talk about zuch matters, as poor volk can take in." "As for that, Dame Trotman, t'was just as well thee dids'nt understond un , vor all the good it would ha done thy poor soul. What be the church ministers but sons of Belial?" "Why I do think , Mrs. Gauge, zome on um be as good as they as do preach at tabernacle . There's good Mr. Flatcher as pious a mon , as ever mounted a pilpit . 'Tis unknown how much good ou do do . There's our John now, used to get out to yeale forever, and never minded what became of I ; but now he is as solid as any one in the parish, and 'tis all out of hearing parson Flatcher . And Mary Dobson, her zays as how Obadiah, used to be forever after the wenchen , till ou preached the sarmont about dultry ."
" Ah !" cried Mrs. Gauge, " 'tis all legality dame! all legality! if you was to hear dear Mr. Rousem, you'd never go to church no more ." "Why I met Deborah Gibson just nows , coming from hearing parson Rubric, and her told me, as how ou preached about nothing but zwirarts , and that all the volk laugh'd . Why to my mind ' tis quite awful! laws ! if you had heard good Mr. Rousem to day! dear mon , when ou talked of the Pharisees, and they do as pride themselves on good works , ou was so yarnest to save our poor souls, that ou reaved till ou was all in a prespiration, and the very hair stood an ind on his head. Oh ou's quite a Boanerges! and so comfortable a minister as ever preached the gospel; for though ou do tell us ou 's afeared we shall all be lost, ou 's got no more gall in it, than a dove: and ou 's out of the pilpit , ou 's as free to a poor soul, as ou would be to a lord." " Well Mrs Gauge, I'm but a poor weak woman, and not so larned as you in these matters for sartin ; but it do zeem to I , as what parson Flatcher do zay , is zound to the back bone. And as for free, ou do go into every poor mon's house in the parish, and do a zight of good, though ou is but a curate, and has'nt much money."
* Ou , he or she -- pilpit , pulpit -- our John , means her husband -- get out to yeale , go the the ale-house -- solid , sober, steady, -- wenchen , wenches -- switart , sweetheart -- yarnest , earnest -- in in, in him.