“Is there any birds thereabouts?”
“Plenty o' geese,” sharply replied the old gentleman.
“Ha! ha! werry good!—but I means game;—partridges and them sort o' birds.”
“I never see any except what I've brought down.”
“I on'y vish I may bring down all I see, that's all,” chuckled the joyous Mr. Grubb.
“What's the matter?”
“I don't at all like that 'ere gun.”
“Lor! bless you, how timorsome you are, 'tain't loaded.”
“Loaded or not loaded, it's werry unpleasant to ride with that gun o' yours looking into one's ear so.”
“Vell, don't be afeard, I'll twist it over t'other shoulder,—there! but a gun ain't a coach, you know, vich goes off whether it's loaded or not. Hollo! Spriggs! here you are, my boy, lord! how you are figg'd out—didn't know you—jump up!”