“Wull, sir, as for that, I doant rightly know; if so be he’d pay down, that’s one thing, but it’s my bleef as you might jist as wull try to dror blood out of a stoane as git thic feller to do what’s right.”
“Shall we say a hundred pounds and costs?”
Never did man look more astonished than Bumpkin. A hundred pounds! What a capital thing going to law must be! But, as the reader knows, he was a remarkably discreet man, and never in the course of his dealing committed himself till the final moment. Whenever anybody made him a “bid,” he invariably met the offer with one form of refusal. “Nay, nay; it beant good enough: I bin offered moore.” And this had answered so well, that it came natural to Bumpkin to refuse on all occasions the first offer. It was not to be wondered at then that the question should be regarded in the light of an offer from Snooks himself. Now he could hardly say “I bin bid moore money,” because the case wasn’t in the market; but he could and did say the next best thing to it, namely:—
“I wunt let un goo for that—’t be wuth moore!”
“Very well,” observed Prigg; “so long as we know: we can lay our damages at what we please.”
Now there was great consolation in that. The plaintiff paused and rubbed his chin. “What do thee think, sir?”
“I think if he pays something handsome, and gives us an apology, and pays the costs, I should advise you to take it.”
“As you please, sir; I leaves it to you; I beant a hard man, I hope.”
“Very good; we will see what can be done. I shall bring this action in the Chancery Division.”
“Hem! I’ve eerd tell, sir, that if ever a case gets into that ere Coourt he niver comes out agin.”