I'm acquainted with 'em.

Don't their country set a valley on 'em, mind you! Not at all!' 'You'll be shot, I see,' observed Mercy.
'Well!' cried Mr Bailey, 'wot if I am?
There's something gamey in it, young ladies, an't there?
I'd sooner be hit with a cannon-ball than a rolling-pin, and she's always a-catching up something of that sort, and throwing it at me, when the gentlemans' appetites is good.

Wot,' said Mr Bailey, stung by the recollection of his wrongs, 'wot, if they DO consume the per-vishuns.

It an't MY fault, is it ?' 'Surely no one says it is,' said Mercy.
'Don't they though ?' retorted the youth.

'No.