"Yes, indeed," said I, "more especially seeing I have not broken my fast since midday yesterday."
"Well, an' w'at be doin' in my hay?"
"I have been asleep," said I.
"Well, an' what business 'ave ye got a-sleepin' an' a-snorin' in my hay?"
"I was tired," said I, "and 'Nature her custom holds, let shame say what it will,' still—I do not think I snored."
"'Ow do I know that—or you, for that matter?" rejoined the farmer, stroking his glossy whiskers, "hows'ever, if you be quite awake, come on down out o' my hay." As he said this he eyed me with rather a truculent air, likewise he clenched his fist. Thinking it wisest to appear unconscious of this, I nodded affably, and letting myself down from the hay, was next moment standing beside him.
"Supposin' I was to thump 'ee on the nose?" he inquired.
"What for?"
"For makin' so free wi' my hay."
"Why then," said I, "I should earnestly endeavor to thump you on yours."