“‘Then,’ says the Times, ‘we’d better look sharp, Jack, or else we shan’t be in time to keep it out.’ And wi’ that they hurried off as fast as they could. I will say’t they didn’t let the grass grow under their feet.”
“And why,” enquired the Don, with an amused smile, “were you so anxious to keep it out of the Times? Mrs. Bumpkin doesn’t read the Times, does she?”
“Why, no; but then the Squoire tak it in, and when eve done wi un he lends un to the Doctor, Mr. Gossip; and when he gets hold o’ anything, away it goes to the Parish Clerk, Mr. Jeerum, and then thee med as well hire the town crier at once.”
“I see; but if you’ll excuse me, Mr. Bumpkin, I will give you a bit of information that may be of service.”
“Thankee, sir; will thee jist tak a little more to wet the tother eye like.”
“Well, really,” replied O’Rapley, “it is long past my hour of nocturnal repose.”
“What, sir? I doant ondustand.”
“I mean to say that I generally hook it off to bed before this.”
“Zackly; but we’ll ’ave another. Your leave, sir, thee was going to tell I zummat.”
“O yes,” said Mr. O’Rapley, with a wave of the hand in imitation of the Lord Chief Justice. “I was going to say that those two men were a couple of rogues.”