'Consarn ye, Dave Harum!' he says, 'I'll hev the law on ye fer this.' 'What fer ?' I says.

'I didn't make it come on to rain, did I ?' I says.

'You know mighty well what fer,' he says.

'You sold me this _damned beast_,' he says, 'an' he's balked with me _nine_ times this afternoon, an' I'll fix ye for 't,' he says.

'Wa'al, deakin,' I says, 'I'm 'fraid the squire's office 'll be shut up 'fore you _git_ there, but I'll take any word you'd like to send.