“Well, he goes well,” said Horatio.
“Gooes well enough for I,” said Bumpkin.
This answer somewhat abashed Horatio, who was unlearned in horses; for some time he remained silent. Then it became Mr. Bumpkin’s turn to renew the conversation:
“I spoase,” said he, “thee be gwine to be a loryer?”
“Not if I know it,” answered Horatio.
“Why not, then?”
“Don’t care for it; I like the country.”
“What wouldst thee like to be then, a farmer?”
“I should—that’s the life for me!”
“Thee likes plenty o’ fresh air?” said the farmer.