Bri. No, give me a husband that knows where his limbs are, though
he want the use of them--and if he should take you with him--to
sleep in a baggage cart, and stroll about the camp like a gipsey,
with a knapsack and two children at your back--then by way of
entertainment in the evening, to make a party with the Serjeants
wife, to drink bohea tea, and play at all fours on a drumhead, 'tis
a precious life to be sure.
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