JARLAND. Avenin', all! [To GODLEIGH] Pinto' beer. [To JIM BERE] Avenin', Jim.
[JIM BERE looks at him and smiles.]
GODLEIGH. [Serving him after a moment's hesitation] 'Ere y'are, Tam. [To CLYST, who has taken out his paper again] Where'd yu get thiccy paper?
CLYST. [Putting down his cider-mug empty] Yure tongue du watter, don't it, Mr. Godleigh? [Holding out his mug] No zider, no poetry. 'Tis amazin' sorrowful; Shakespeare over again. "The boy stude on the burnin' deck."
FREMAN. Yu and yer yap!
CLYST. Ah! Yu wait a bit. When I come back down t'lane again, Orphus 'e was vanished away; there was naught in the field but the ponies, an' a praaper old magpie, a-top o' the hedge. I zee somethin' white in the beak o' the fowl, so I giv' a "Whisht," an' 'e drops it smart, an' off 'e go. I gets over bank an' picks un up, and here't be.
[He holds out his mug.]
BURLACOMBE. [Tartly] Here, give 'im 'is cider. Rade it yureself, ye young teasewings.
[CLYST, having secured his cider, drinks it o$. Holding up the paper to the light, he makes as if to begin, then slides his eye round, tantalizing.]
CLYST. 'Tes a pity I bain't dressed in a white gown, an' flowers in me 'air.