unearths some literary gems.
From "Betsy Baker, or, Too Attentive By Half," by John Maddison Morton:
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Mrs. Mouser. (throws down her work) This is really intolerable! I wish you wouldn’t attempt to sing that song, Mr. Mouser. You’ll never accomplish it.
Mouser. I will accomplish it, Mrs. Mouser. Indeed, I may say, I have accomplished it—all, except the “Ya—oo—oo,” and I’m not going to be beat by a “Ya—oo—oo,” I can tell you.
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Crummy. Come, come. Now that you see I’ve found you out—tell me how you contrived to wheedle poor Betsy out of her affections?
Mouser. Crummy, I’m not apt to make use of strong language—but—by the living jingo, I never wheedled a Betsy out of anything in all my life!
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Crummy. Ah ! Any one with her?
Mouser. Yes, my wig. This is your doing—this is your precious work, (seizing Crummy and shaking him). It was you — you who exposed me to the fascinations of this juvenile washerwoman. It’s through you that I have lost my peace of mind, and my wig. Where are they? Where’s my peace of mind? Where’s my wig?
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