Three days ago we came hither from the Hot Well, and took
possession of the first floor of a lodging-house, on the South
Parade; a situation which my uncle chose, for its being near the
Bath, and remote from the noise of carriages. He was scarce warm
in the lodgings when he called for his night-cap, his wide shoes,
and flannel; and declared himself invested with the gout in his
right foot; though, I believe it had as yet reached no farther
than his imagination. It was not long before he had reason to
repent his premature declaration; for our aunt Tabitha found
means to make such a clamour and confusion, before the flannels
could be produced from the trunk, that one would have imagined
the house was on fire. All this time, uncle sat boiling with
impatience, biting his fingers, throwing up his eyes, and
muttering ejaculations; at length he burst into a kind of
convulsive laugh, after which he hummed a song; and when the
hurricane was over, exclaimed 'Blessed be God for all things!'
This, however, was but the beginning of his troubles. Mrs
Tabitha's favourite dog Chowder, having paid his compliments to a
female turnspit of his own species, in the kitchen, involved
himself in a quarrel with no fewer than five rivals, who set upon
him at once, and drove him up stairs to the dining room door,
with hideous noise: there our aunt and her woman, taking arms in
his defence, joined the concert; which became truly diabolical.
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