The String of Pearls (1850), p. 221

the Lord's leave, I will even partake of some of this worldly liquor, called mulled
porter."
"Now while Mr. Lupin drank the savoury stream from the jug, it assailed the
senses of Mrs. Oakley, and when the porter was placed before her, she raised it
to her lips, saying—
"If folks are civil to me, I'm civil to them, only I don't like my godly friends to be ill-treated. I'm sure nobody knows what I have gone through for my family, and nobody thinks what a mother and wife I have been. What would have become of Oakley if it hadn't been for me, is a question I often ask myself in the middle of the night?"
"She's a wonderful woman," sighed Lupin.
"Oh, uncommon," said Ben.
"Let me go," whispered Johanna to Ben.
"No, no! Wait for the fun."
"What fun?"
"Oh, you'll see. You don't know what a trouble it has cost me, to be sure.
Only wait a bit, there's a duck, do."
Johanna did not like to say she would not, so she shrunk back in her chair
in no small curiosity, to know what was about to happen. Mrs. Oakley lifted
the jug to her lips and drunk deep. The aroma of the liquor must have been
peculiarly grateful to the palate of Mrs. Oakley, for she certainly kept the jug at
her mouth for a length of time, that, to judge by the look of impatience upon
the countenance of Mr. Lupin, was something outrageous.
"Sister," he said. "Mind your breath."
Down came the jug, and Mrs. Oakley, when she could draw breath, gasped—
"Very good indeed. A dash of allspice would make it delicious."
"Oh, sister," cried Lupin as he grasped the jug, that was gently pushed towards
him by Ben after Mrs. Oakley had set it down. "Oh, sister, don't give your
mind to carnal things, I beg of you. Why, she's drank it all."
Mr. Lupin peered into the jug. He shut the right eye and looked in with the
left, and then he shut the left eye and looked in with the right, and then he
moved the jug about until the silver lid came down with a clap, that nearly
snapped his nose off.
"What's the matter?" said Ben.
"I—I—don't exactly—" Mr. Lupin raised the lid again and again, and peered into the jug in something of the fashion which popular belief supposes a crow to look into a marrow bone.
At length he turned the jug upside down, and struck the bottom of it with his
pious knuckles. A huge toad fell sprawling upon the table. Mrs. Oakley gave
a shriek, and rushed into the yard. Mr. Lupin gave a groan, and flew into
the street, and the party in the parlour could hear them in a state of horrible
sickness.
"Easy does it," said Ben, "it's only a piece of wood shaped like a toad and
painted, that's all. Now I'm easy. I owed 'em one."

CHAPTER XLVI.
TOBIAS'S HEART IS TOUCHED.

Tobias is no worse all this time. But is he better? Has the godlike spirit of reason come back to the mind-benighted boy? Has that pure and gentle spirit recovered from its fearful thraldom, and once again opened its eyes to the world and the knowledge of the past? We shall see. Accompany us, reader, once again to the house of Colonel Jeffery. You will not regret looking upon the pale face of poor Tobias again. The room is darkened, for the sun is shining