Loud were the outcries, terrible the execrations, consequent upon this daring outrage; uncle Robson had been coming up the walk with his gun, and was just then pausing to kick his dog.

Tom flew towards him, vowing he would make him kick me instead of Juno.

Mr.
Robson leant upon his gun, and laughed excessively at the violence of his nephew's passion, and the bitter maledictions and opprobrious epithets he heaped upon me.

'Well, you _are_ a good 'un!' exclaimed he, at length, taking up his weapon and proceeding towards the house.

'Damme, but the lad has some spunk in him, too.