Pat got up, a makin' awful wry faces, and began to limp, to show how lame his shoulder was, and to rub his arm, to see if he had one left, and the squirrel ran about the tree hoppin' mad, hollerin' out as loud as it could scream, chee, chee, chee.
"'Oh bad luck to you,' sais Pat, 'if you had a been at t'other eend of the gun,' and he rubbed his shoulder agin, and cried like a baby, 'you wouldn't have said chee, chee, chee, that way, I know.' "Now when your gun, Squire, was a knockin' over Blue-nose, and makin' a proper fool of him, and a knockin' over Jonathan, and a spilin' of his bran-new clothes, the English sung out chee, chee, chee, till all was blue agin.

You had an excellent gun entirely then: let's see if they will sing out chee, chee, chee, now, when we take a shot at _them_.

Do you take ?" and he laid his thumb on his nose, as if perfectly satisfied with the application of his story.

"Do you take, Squire?
you have an excellent gun entirely, as Pat says.

It's what I call puttin' the leake into 'em properly.