Be sure to pick your way among the timber, for all the rusty nails are upwards.
There's a dog in the lane.

He bit a man last night, and a woman the night before, and last Tuesday he killed a child--but that was in play.
Don't go too near him.' 'Which side of the road is he, sir ?' asked Brass, in great dismay.
'He lives on the right hand,' said Quilp, 'but sometimes he hides on the left, ready for a spring.

He's uncertain in that respect.

Mind you take care of yourself.

I'll never forgive you if you don't.
There's the light out--never mind--you know the way--straight on!' Quilp had slily shaded the light by holding it against his breast, and now stood chuckling and shaking from head to foot in a rapture of delight, as he heard the lawyer stumbling up the yard, and now and then falling heavily down.