“It is; I’m sure.”
“It’s brass, I tell you.”
“Impossible.”
“Then it’s copper.”
“Copper isn’t this colour at all, Esau. It’s gold.”
“Not it; may be gold outside perhaps. It’s gilt, that’s what it is.”
“You stupid, obstinate donkey!” I cried in a pet.
“Oh, I am, am I? Look here, mister, donkeys kick, so look out.”
“You kick me if you dare!” I cried.
“Don’t want to kick you, but don’t you be so handy calling people donkeys.”