"Any one as'd hurt a horse with a temper like Sorrel, and such a willin' heart, ud do anything wicked, I don't care what it is.

Why, I don't believe even a lifer ud do that." "What's a lifer ?" asked Nic.
"Transported for life, sir." "Oh yes, I remember now," said Nic, as they turned into the long wooden stable.

"Ah, father! you up already ?" "'Morning, Nic, my boy.

Oh yes, we are early birds here.

Been round the farm ?" "Yes, some of it.