Why, Charlot, these are cases in point.
Sir LUKE.
Oh! clear as a trout-stream; and it is not only, my little Charlot, that this piece of timber answers every purpose, but it has procured me many a bit of fun in my time.
SERJEANT.
Ay!
Sir LUKE.
Why, it was but last summer, at Tunbridge, we were plagued the whole season by a bullet-headed Swiss from the canton of Bern, who was always boasting, what, and how much he dared do; and then, as to pain, no Stoic, not Diogenes, held it more in contempt.—By gods, he vas no more minds it dan notings at all—So, foregad, I gave my German a challenge.
SERJEANT.
As how!—Mind, Charlot.
Sir LUKE.