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Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software. The text has not been manually corrected and should not be relied on to be an accurate representation of the item.
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him in any other way ; or if once , after you begin to dose him , you grow ashamed or sick of the work and draw off , expect to die in a ditch ; for all his first impressions are the offsprings , the shootings , the twitchings of his habitual suspicion . I was about to call it his natural suspicion , but it is not that . It is true , he imbibes it so early that you may trace it as far back as his first draught of mother ' s milk ; it is irresistible ; mechanical to him as a spoon to his soup . All first advances , he eyes with a knowing , suspecting , detecting glance . A clever fellow is Mr . John Bull ! ' He is not going to be taken in ! ' not he ! Never mind that , but on—on—on , I say , and he will soon close both his eyes , as a cat does when you tickle him under the ear ; then it is that Mr . John Bull thinks his vision most perfect , most clear , and you may
plunge your hands each into a pocket of his breeches ; then be sure you call him generous Briton or Englishman , for * he detests flattery , ' he says , ( which is a bit of the system , ) or woe betide you for < an ungrateful vagabond , ' &c . O glorious and renowned Mr . John Bull ! Look ! yonder stands his castle , entrenched by a ditch of caution , fifty feet wide and sixty deep , triply circumvallarted by suspicion , bastioned by mistrust , barriered by stamp-receipts , portcullised by a certificate , drawbridged by a document . Casements barred and closed—loopholes spiked—crenelles , eyery inch of them , cheveux-de-frized . There is the gate—there is the drawbridge—up—and a road here
directly leading to them . Blow the horn—ring the bell—knock , knock , knock at the outer barrier . All in vain ! He is not to be (seen . Ha ! there he is ! peeping through a loop-hole : again —higher up—shaking his sapient noddle at the crenelles . This house is mine . Hear you his absolute mine ? It is exploded with a pluff , as if a barrel of soap-suds had blown out the bung * Every brick in these walls , which you are staring at , is mine ? ( Mrs . and the young ones use the plural , but Master scorns all cases except the possessive singular . ) ' Gate , doors , windows ,
chimneys , here are mine . The mud in that ditch is mine ; every bubble that spirts up on it belongs to me : they are my bubbles , sir ! That is my road which you are on . ' The sky over head is his , but he does not say so : he fears you would laugh at him : ( another bit of the system : ) nettles , weeds , and cobwebs are all his . The vermin in the garret , the mice in the pantry , and the
rats in the barn , are not his ; he absolves them from all allegiance ; else they belong to his neighbour , who sends them here to sponge on his good-nature and plenty . * How do you do , sir ? ' f Bow wow 1 wow ! ' * You are quite well , I hope , Mr . John Bull . ' He hears you not ; he is gone to unchain and unmuzzle the mastiffs . You cannot find entrance that way ; but do not despair ; look round ; reconnoitre the fortress . Ha ! there you see a vulnerable crown-work ; that is Bastion Gullible : fire away ! again !
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John Bully Esquire , of Wheedle-Hall . 709
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No . 82 . 3 E
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Citation
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Monthly Repository (1806-1838) and Unitarian Chronicle (1832-1833), Oct. 2, 1833, page 709, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse.ac.uk/periodicals/mruc/issues/vm2-ncseproduct2624/page/49/
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