ANCIENT. Wi' 'is eyes a-rollin' an' flamin', Peter, an' 'is mane all bristlin'—
SIMON. Cool as any cucumber, Peter—
ANCIENT. A-roarin' an' a-lashin' of 'is tail—
SIMON. And sparrin' for an openin', Peter, and when 'e sees one—downin' 'is man every time—
ANCIENT. Leapin' in the air, rollin' in the grass, wi' they keepers clingin' to 'im like leeches—ah! leeches—
SIMON. And every time they rushed, tap 'ud go 'is "left," and bang 'ud go 'is "right"—
ANCIENT. An' up 'e'd get, like Samson again, Peter, an' give 'isself a shake; bellerin'—like a bull o' Bashan—
SIMON. Ye see, they fou't so close together that the keepers was afear'd to use their guns—
ANCIENT (indignantly). Guns!—who's a-talkin' o' guns? Simon, my bye—you be allus a-maggin' an' a-maggin'; bridle thy tongue, lad, bridle thy tongue afore it runs away wi' ye.
SIMON (sheepishly). All right, Old Un—fire away!