"Halloa, Frank, I'll come over one day next week, and try for a fox in Easington Woods.

We missed the last, you know.

Tom Brockholes, are you here?
Just ridden over from Sladeburne, eh?
When is that shooting match at the bodkin to come off, eh?
Mind, it is to be at twenty-two roods' distance.

Ride over to Downham on Thursday next, Tom.
We're to have a foot-race, and I'll show you good sport, and at night we'll have a lusty drinking bout at the alehouse.

On Friday, we'll take out the great nets, and try for salmon in the Ribble.