“This day I was led in by a pretty girl, that we all thought must have forgot me, for the family has been out of town these two years.  Her knowing me again was a mighty subject with us, and took up our discourse at the first entrance.  After which they began to rally me upon a thousand little stories they heard in the country about my marriage to one of my neighbor’s daughters.  Upon which the gentleman, my friend, said ’Nay, if Mr. Bickerstaff marries a child of any of his old companions, I hope mine shall have the preference.  There’s Mistress Mary is now sixteen, and would make him as fine a widow as the best of them.’”

After dinner the mother and children leave the two friends together.  The father speaks of his love for his wife, and his fears for her health.

“’Ah, you little understand, you that have lived a bachelor, how great a pleasure there is in being really beloved.  Her face is to me more beautiful than when I first saw it.  In her examination of her household affairs she show a certain fearfulness to find a fault, which makes her servants obey her like children, and the meanest we have has an ingenuous shame for an offence, not always to be seen in children in other families.  I speak freely to you, my old friend.  Ever since her sickness, things that gave me the quickest joy before, turn now to a certain anxiety.  As the children play in the next room, I know the poor things by their steps, and am considering what they must do, should they lose their mother in their tender years.  The pleasure I used to take in telling my boy stories of the battles, and asking my girl questions about the disposal of her baby, and the gossiping of it, is turned into inward reflection and melancholy.’  The poor gentleman would have gone on much longer with his sad forebodings, but his wife returning, and seeing by his grave face what he had been talking about, said, with a smile, ’Mr. Bickerstaff, don’t believe a word of what he tells you.  I shall still live to have you for my second, as I have often promised you, unless he takes more care of himself than he has done since his coming to town.  You must know, he tells me, that he finds London is a much more healthy place than the country, for he sees several of his old acquaintance and school-fellows are here, young fellows with fair, full-bottomed periwigs.  I could scarce keep him this morning from going out open-breasted.’” And so they sat and chatted pleasantly until, “on a sudden, we were alarmed with the noise of a drum, and immediately entered my little godson to give me a point of war.* His mother, between laughing and chiding, would have put him out of the room, but I would not part with him so.  I found, upon conversation with him, though he was a little noisy in his mirth, that the child had excellent parts, and was a great master of all the learning on the other side of eight years old.  I perceived him to be a very great historian in Aesop’s Fables; but he frankly declared to me his mind, that he did not delight in that learning, because he did not believe they were true.  For which reason I found he had very much turned his studies, for about a twelve-month past, into the lives and adventures of Don Bellianis of Greece, Guy of Warwick, the Seven Champions, and other historians of that age.