Child. Oh! but we were going to—— But I won't tell you. [To the other children.] Come away here, and we'll not tell him what we'll do.
Paul Ruttledge. [To Charlie Ward.] What are they going to do? They're putting their heads together.
Charlie Ward. They're going to put a bush across the road, and when the friar gets down to pull it out of the way they'll snap what they can off the ass, and away with them.
Paul Ruttledge. And why wouldn't they tell me that? Am I not one of yourselves?
Charlie Ward. Ah! It's likely they'll never trust you.
Paul Ruttledge. But they will soon see that I am one of themselves.
Charlie Ward. No; but that's the very thing, you're not one of ourselves. You were not born on the road, reared on the road, married on the road like us.
Paul Ruttledge. Well, it's too late for me to be reared on the road, but I don't see why I shouldn't marry on the road like you. I certainly would do it if it would make me one of you.
Charlie Ward. It might make you one of us, there's no doubt about that. It's the only thing that would do it.
Paul Ruttledge. Well, find a wife for me.