"So you war there! I jist crinkle-crankled myself up in the rope, so that they couldn't burn you without me too."
"But they did not burn you, I hope?"
"Jist singed a bit; no more. This," pointing to his hand, "comed of a great nail in the gibbet, that gived me a good hould as long as it lasted."
"So you pulled it out."
"We split the gibbet's self 'mong us; and then 'twar all over with me, and I comed home directly then."
"Why did not you stay to see the sight, when once you found you could not help its going forward?"
"They put me in a rare passion, 'mong 'em; and I didn't want to see nought of their sights."
"What were you in a passion about? What had you to do with it?"
To this question no answer was to be got, but instead thereof an inquiry.
"For all they say, you won't think of going away for sich as they? They'll come round, when they see you don't go off in a huff."