“Huntin’? Where’s one to find a decent mount?”
“Mrs. Lee means the shooting, dear,” explained Darcy, sweetly.
“Haw! Nevah heard shootin’ called huntin’ before. No decent shootin’, either. Tramped about all mornin’ and flushed one chippin’ squirrel.”
“He means chipmunk,” expounded the helpful Darcy. “Poor Monty finds our American speech so difficult.”
“Beastly language,” murmured the bogus baronet, resuming his seat.
“But surely,” said the kindly-spirited Helen, “you find the mountains beautiful.”
“Haw! Too crowded. No chance to turn about without knockin’ people’s elbows.”
The visitors took a hasty departure.
“Stupid ass!” growled Lee before they were fairly out of earshot.
“Oh, for just one good swing at his fat head,” yearned the husky Wood.