You won't go back if you can help it, 'cos why?
'Cos you don't want to tell on a man: 'cos his aunt's a friend o' yourn: and 'cos you don't believe he's guilty.
What's your name ?" "Harry, sir: Harry Revel." "Well, then, my name's Ben Jope, and as such you'll call me.
I'm sorry, in a way, that it rhymes with 'rope,' which it never struck me before in all these years, and wouldn't now but for thinkin' 'pon that ghastly godson o' mine and how much better I stomach ye.

I promise nothing, mind: but if you'll keep quiet under that seat, I'll think it over." Certainly, having made my confession, I felt easier in mind as I lay huddled under the seat, though it seemed to me that Mr.Jope took matters lightly.

For the squadron ahead had resumed the singing of _Tom Bowling_ and he sat humming a bar or two here and there with evident pleasure, and paused only to bow out of window and acknowledge the cheers of the passers-by.
At the end of five minutes, however, he spoke aloud again.
"The first thing," he announced, "is to stay where you are.
Let me think, now--Who seen you?
There's the parson: he's gone.
And there's the jarvey: he's drunk as a lord.

Anyone else ?" "There was one of the young ladies that looked out of window." "True: then 'tis too risky.

When the company gets out, you'll have to get out.