"What did ye arst me fur, then?"
"Shovel the sprouts over me, d'ye hear? Cover me over!" muttered Mr. Bush, while the Duke angrily rejoined:
"If I have any of your impudence, I'll give you a taste of my whip. Tell me where the Farm is this moment."
"I have told ye."
"Where is it?"
"'Ereabouts."
"Where the devil's hereabouts?"
"Where I'm a-standing of."
"Where you're standing! Why didn't you say so?"
"I did say so—darn it all!"