"Your brother has no right to take liberties with my name.

Go on.

Did Silas say any more while he was about it ?" "Yes; he looked into the kiln; and he says, 'What made you throw away the knife, Ambrose ?'--'How does a man know why he does anything,' I says, 'when he does it in a passion ?'--'It's a ripping good knife,' says Silas; 'in your place, I should have kept it.' I picked up the stick off the ground.

'Who says I've lost it yet ?' I answered him; and with that I got up on the side of the kiln, and began sounding for the knife, to bring it, you know, by means of the stick, within easy reach of a shovel, or some such thing.

'Give us your hand,' I says to Silas.
'Let me stretch out a bit and I'll have it in no time.' Instead of finding the knife, I came nigh to falling myself into the burning lime.
The vapor overpowered me, I suppose.