'Hallo!' says the Squire, catching sight of me.
'Where's your gun?
Don't begin for to tell me that a han'some, well-set-up, intelligent chap like Israel Spettigew is for hangin' back at his country's call!' 'Squire,' says I, 'you've a-pictered me to a hair.

But there's one thing you've left out.

I've been turnin' it over, an' I don't see that I'm fit to die.' 'Why not ?' says he.
'I'm not a saved man like them other chaps,' says I.

'I've had a few convictions of sin, but that's as far as it's gone.' 'Tut,' says he, 'have you ever broken the Commandments ?' 'What's that ?' I asks.
'Why, the things up at the end of the church, inside the rails.' 'I never married my gran'mother, if that's what you mean,' I says.
'That's the Affini-ety Table,' says he, 'but have 'ee ever made to yourself a graven image ?' 'Lord, no,' I says, 'I leaves that nigglin' work to the I-talians.' 'Have 'ee honoured your father an' your mother ?' 'They took damgood care about that,' says I.
'Well, then, have 'ee ever coveted your neighbour's wife ?' 'No,' I says, 'I never could abide the woman.' 'Come, come,' says he, 'did 'ee ever commit murder upon a man ?' 'That's a leadin' question from a magistrate,' I says; 'but I don't mind ownin', as man to man, that I never did.' 'Then,' says he, 'the sooner you pitch-to and larn the better.'" "The bloodthirsty old termigant!" "'Twas the way of us all in the year 'seventy-nine," the old man admitted modestly.

"A few throats up or down--Lord bless 'ee!--we talked of it as calm as William Oke might talk of killin' a pig! And, after all, what's our trade here to-night but battery and murder ?" "But 'tisn' the French we'm expectin'," urged Oke, whose mind moved slowly.
"'Tis the same argyment with these billies from Troy.