There was a kind o' shever ran through 'n, an' hes feathers went ruffly-like, an' hes legs bowed in, an' he jes' lay flat to groun' and goggled an' glazed up at that eye like a dyin' duck in a thunderstorm.

'Twas a rich sight, sir; an' how I contrived not to bust mysel' wi' laffin', es more'n I can tell 'ee to this day.
"So he lay for up ten minnits, an' then he staggered up 'pon hes feet an' sneaked out o' them peas like a chuck-sheep dog, an' the repent'nce a-tricklin' out 'n ivery pore.

He passed me by that close I cou'd ha' knacked 'n over wi' a stick, but he didn' see me more'n ef I'd a'been a pisky-man.

[11] All hes notiss, I reckon, were for that gashly eye; an' he looked back ivery now and agen, like as ef he'd say, 'I be but worms; an', wuss nor that, I've a-been a scoffin', lyin', Sabbath-breakin' ould worms; but do 'ee let me off this wance, an' I'll strive an' wrastle,' he seemed to say, 'an' do purty well all a rook can to be gathered to the fold.' An' wi' that he slinks over th' hedge an' out o' sight.
"Well, sir, I didn' see 'n agen nex' day, nor for many days arter; but on Sunday-week, as et mou't be, i' the mornin' I'd a-took French lave an' absented mysel' from Meetin' House, an' were quietly smokin' my pipe up in the town-place, [12] when I hears a chitterin' an' a chatterin' like as 'twere a little way off; an' lookin' down t'wards the twenty-acred field, I seed 'twere black wi' rooks--fairly black, sir--black as the top o' your hat.

Thinks I, 'I reckon here's some new caper,' an' I loafes down to see the fun.
"I stales down the lane, an' looks over the gate, an' when I takes in, at las', what 'tes all about, my!--you mou't ha' knacked me down wi' a feather! 'Twas a prayer-meetin' them rooks was a-holdin', sir, as I'm a senner.