A man as fights for's coontry's a right to hould up his head--ay! with any in the land.

Desb'roughs o' Dorset! d'ye know that family, Master Feverel ?" Richard did not know them, and, by his air, did not desire to become acquainted with any offshoot of that family.
"She can make puddens and pies," the farmer went on, regardless of his auditor's gloom.

"She's a lady, as good as the best of 'em.

I don't care about their being Catholics--the Desb'roughs o' Dorset are gentlemen.
And she's good for the pianer, too! She strums to me of evenin's.

I'm for the old tunes: she's for the new.