An' Matthew Peke wouldn't be the man he is, if he didn't know where to find 'em better'n any livin' soul iver born! Ah!--an' there aint a toad in a hole hoppin' out between Quantocks an' Cornwall as hasn't seen Matthew Peke gatherin' the blessin' an' health o' the fields at rise o' sun an' set o' moon, spring, summer, autumn, ay, an' even winter, all the year through!" Helmsley became interested.
"And you are the man!" he said questioningly--"You are Matthew Peke ?" "I am! An' proud so ter be! An' you--'ave yer got a name for the arskin' ?" "Why, certainly!" And Helmsley's pale face flushed.

"My name is David." "Chrisen name?
Surname ?" "Both." Matthew Peke shook his head.
"'Twon't fadge!" he declared.

"It don't sound right.

It's like th' owld Bible an' the Book o' Kings where there's nowt but Jews; an' Jews is the devil to pay wheriver you finds 'em!" "I'm not a Jew," said Helmsley, smiling.
"Mebbe not--mebbe not--but yer name's awsome like it.

An' if ye put it short, like D.David, that's just Damn David an' nothin' plainer.