"But--I have had a bad experience!" "Well, if y'ave 'ad it ivir so bad, yer 'xperience aint every one's," retorted Peke.

"If one fly gits into the soup, that don't argify that the hull pot 's full of 'em.

An' there's more good wimin than bad--takin' 'em all round an' includin' 'op pickers, gypsies an' the like.

Even Miss Tranter aint wantin' in feelin', though she's a bit sour like, owin' to 'avin missed a 'usband an' all the savin' worrity wear-an-tear a 'usband brings, but she aint arf bad.

Yon's the lamp of 'er 'Trusty Man' now." A gleam of light, not much larger than the glitter of one of the glow-worms in the grass, was just then visible at the end of the long field they were traversing.
"That's an old cart-road down there wheer it stands," continued Peke.
"As bad a road as ivir was made, but it runs straight into Devonshire, an' it's a good place for a pub.