Nor him you won't. Out of my way, you fowls,
Or else I'll rip the red things off your jowls.'
He went across the fields to Plaister's End.
There was a lot of water in the brook,
Sun and white cloud and weather on the mend
For any man with any eyes to look.
He found old Callow's plough-bat, which he took,
'My innings now, my pretty dear,' said he.
'You wait a bit. I'll show you. Now you'll see.'
Her chimney smoke was blowing blue and faint,