'There was the Squire o' Milton over here yester morning wi' Johnny Ferneley o' the Bank side, and they will have it that there's a man in Fareham who could wrestle you, the best of three, and find your own grip, for a good round stake.' 'Tut! tut!' I answered; 'you would have me like a prize mastiff, showing my teeth to the whole countryside.

What matter if the man can throw me, or I him ?' 'What matter?
Why, the honour of Havant,' quoth he.

'Is that no matter?
But you are right,' he continued, draining off his horn.

'What is all this village life with its small successes to such as you?
You are as much out of your place as a vintage wine at a harvest supper.

The whole of broad England, and not the streets of Havant, is the fit stage for a man of your kidney.