“You had betther keep your tongue off o' me,” he replied; “I won't get into grips wid you any more, you barge o' blazes; but, if you provoke me wid bad language, I'll give you a clink wid one o' these sotherin'-irons that'll put a clasp on your tongue.”
“Never attempt that,” she replied fiercely, “for, as sure as you do, I'll have this knife,” showing him a large, sharp-pointed one, which, in accordance with the customs of her class, hung by a black belt of strong leather from her side—“I'll have this customer here greased in your puddins, my buck, and, when the win's out o' you, see what you'll be worth—fit for Captain James's hounds; although I dunno but the very dogs themselves is too clane to ait you.”
“Come,” said Bat, “we'll have no more o' this; do you, Philip, keep quiet wid your sotherin'-iron, and, as for you, Kate, don't dhraw me upon you; na ha nan shin—it isn't Philip you have. I say I'm right well plaised that we helped to knock up the match.”
“Don't be too sure,” replied Kate, “that it is knocked up; don't now, mind my words; an' take care that, instead of knockin' it up, you haven't knocked yourselves down. Chew your cud upon that now.”
“What does she mane?” asked Ned, looking on her with a baleful glance, in which might be read equal ferocity and alarm. “Why, traichery, of coorse,” replied Philip, in his deep, glowing voice. “Kate,” said her husband, starting into something' like an incipient fit of fury, but suddenly checking himself—“Kate, my honey, what do you mane by them words?”
“What do I mane by them words?” she exclaimed, with an eye which turned on him with cool defiance; “pick that out o' your larnin', Bat, my pet. You can all keep your saicrets; an' I'll let you know that I can keep mine.”
“Be the Holy St. Lucifer,” said her husband, “if I wanst thought that traichery 'ud enter your head, I'd take good care that it's in hell you'd waken some fine mornin' afore long. So mind yourself, Kate, my honey.”
“Are you in nobody else's power but mine?” she replied, “ax yourselves that—an' now do you mind yourself, Bat, my pet, and all o' yez.”
“What is the raison,” asked her husband, “that I see you an' Nanny Peety colloguin' an' huggermuggerin' so often together of late?”
“Ah,” she replied, with a toss of disdain, “what a manly fellow you are to want to get into women's saicrets! you may save your breath though.”