Where are you, sir ?" "Curse you, sirra," replied his master angrily, "is this either a time or place to jest in?
A man that would make a jest in such a situation as this would dance on his father's tombstone." "By my soul, sir, and I'd give a five-pound note, if I had it, that you and I were dancing 'Jig Polthogue' on it this minute.

But, in the mane time, the devil a one o' me sees the joke your honor speaks of." "Why, then, do you ask me where I am, when you know I'm astray, that we're both astray, you snivelling old whelp?
By the great and good King William, I'll be lost, Andy!" "Well, and even if you are, sir," replied Andy, who, guided by his voice, had now approached and joined him; "even if you are, sir, I trust you'll bear it like a Christian and a Trojan." "Get out, you old sniveller--what do you mean by a Trojan ?" "A Trojan, sir, I was tould, is a man that lives by sellin' wild-fowl.
They take an oath, sir, before they begin the trade, never to die until they can't help it." "You mean to say, or to hint at least, that in addition to our other dangers we run the risk of coming in contact with poachers ?" "Well, then, sir, if I don't mistake they're out to-night.

However, don't let us alarm one another.

God forbid that I'd say a single word to frighten you; but still, you know yourself that there's many a man not a hundred miles from us that 'ud be glad to mistake you for a target, a mallard, or any other wild-fowl or that description." "In the meantime we are both well armed," replied his master; "but what I fear most is the risk we run of falling down precipices, or walking into lakes or quagmires.

What's to be done?
This fog is so cursedly cold that it has chilled my very blood into ice." "Our best plan, sir, is to dismount, and keep ourselves warm by taking a pleasant stroll across the country.