“I spoase we can’t bring un afore jusseses, sir?”
“Well, you see the criminal law is dangerous; you can’t get damages, and you may get an action for malicious prosecution.”
“I think we ought to mak un pay for ’t.”
“That is precisely my own view, but I am totally at a loss to understand the reason of such outrageous conduct on the part of this Snooks. Now don’t be offended, Mr. Bumpkin, if I put a question to you. You know, we lawyers like to search to the bottom of things. I can understand, if you had owed him any money—”
“Owe un money!” exclaimed Bumpkin contemptuously; “why I could buy un out and out.”
“Ah, quite so, quite so; so I should have supposed from what I know of you, Mr. Bumpkin.”
“Lookee ere, sir,” said the farmer; “I bin a ard workin man all my life, paid my way, twenty shillins in the pound, and doant owe a penny as fur as I knows.”
“And if you did, Mr. Bumpkin,” said the lawyer with a good-natured laugh, “I dare say you could pay.”
“Wull, I bleeve there’s no man can axe me for nothing; and thank God, what I’ve got’s my own; and there aint many as got pootier stock nor mine—all good bred uns, Mr. Prigg.”
“Yes, I’ve often heard your cattle praised.”