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Various

"Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume XXIII"

Sim, and said--
"You, sir, are Mr. Sim, I believe, late grocer and cheesemonger in
Carlisle?"
"I suppose, sir," replied the other, "you know that without me telling
you; if you do not, you have some right to know me."
"Well, sir," continued the steward of the assembly, "I come to inform
you that you have made a mistake. This is not a _social dance_ amongst
_tradesmen_, but an _assembly_ of _ladies_ and _gentlemen_; therefore,
sir, your presence cannot be allowed here."
Poor Maria became blind, the hundred different head-dresses seemed to
float around her. She clung to her father's arm for support. Her mother
was in an agony of indignation.
"Sir," said Mr. Sim, "I don't know what you call _gentlemen_; but if it
be not _genteel_ to have sold teas and groceries, it is at least more
_honourable_ than to use them and never pay for them. You will remember,
sir, there is a considerable sum standing against you in my books; and
if the money be not paid to me tonight, you shall have less space to
dance in before morning."
"Insolent barbarian!" exclaimed Squire Morris, stamping his foot upon
the floor.


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