"Really, I'm extremely sorry," began the former.
"Sorry be jowned!" shouted the baker. "Sorry won't clean my hands, and my dough a-spoiling."
"'Tis rank pison!" cried the butcher.
"Assault and battery and attempted murder," shrieked Noakes, furiously. "Wi' my own firelighters!"
"Let us discuss it calmly," said Templeton. "No one can regret more than I the—the inconvenience to which you have been put, quite without intention, I assure you——"
"But the fact is," Eves interposed, pointing to the manual, "you were on the wrong side of the road. Constable, I appeal to you."
The constable, who had left his fire helmet in the hedge, scratched his head, the villagers looking at him expectantly.
"Well, neighbours all," he said, slowly, "the law's what it is, and I'm not the man, being sworn in my office of constable—'t ud be high treason or worse to gainsay it. And I don't care who the man is, that there manual be on the right when the law says it oughter be on the left, and no true man can deny it."
"That's for horses and carts, for horses and carts," fumed Noakes.
"As a man I respect you, neighbour Noakes," said the constable, solemnly, "but as a officer of the law I say you don't know nothing about it. The manual's a vehicle; well, then, the law's no respecter of persons, and what be law for a horse and cart be law for a manual; ay sure, for a baby's pram, if so be a pram was in custody."