Say, squire, hope it wean't be our turn next." "Go on eating, Tom," whispered Dick, setting the example, and cutting a slice for his companion, while Tom hacked the bread.
"I'm hard at work," said Tom thickly.

"I shall eat as much as ever I can, and make mother give Hicky a piece o' chine." "So will I," said Dick; "and a couple o' chickens." The hungry lad had taken a piece of pink-fleshed bacon upon his fork, and was about to transfer it to his mouth, when he stopped short with his lips apart and eyes staring, while Tom let fall his knife and thrust his chair back over the stone floor.
They had been eating and listening to the conversation outside, till it reached its climax in the following words: "What, man?
You don't know what he says." "What he says!" chuckled the wheelwright.

"Ay, I heerd what he said; a whole heap o' bad words till I checked him, and let him feel he'd best howd his tongue." "But you know what he says about who shot at him ?" "Nay, but if he says as it were me, I'll go and pitch him into the watter." "You did not hear, then ?" cried the squire, huskily.

"Hickathrift, he says it was done by those boys!" "What!" roared the wheelwright.
"It's a lie, father!" shouted Dick, recovering himself and running out.
"Here, ask Tom." "Why, of course it's a lie," cried Tom.
"But that man says--" cried the squire.
"Yah!" shouted Hickathrift angrily, "they never shot him; they heven't got no goon.".