Won't trust hissel' to spake, and don't want to see nobody.
But, as I tell'n, there's no call to be shamed; the fella took the belt in the las' round, and turned his man over like a tab.

He's a proper angletwitch, that Wendron fella.

Stank 'pon en both ends, and he'll rise up in the middle and look at 'ee.

There was no one a patch on en but the Dane; and I'll back the Dane next time they clinch.

'Tis a nuisance, though, to have'n like this--with a big job coming on, too, over to the light-house." Taffy looked steadily at the smith.