Don't you push me!" "Walk out then." "Sha'n't.

It's our place, and I sha'n't go for you." "Will you go out quietly ?" "No, I shall stop as long as I like." "Once more, Master Philip, will you go ?" "No!" yelled the boy; "and you give me back my cane." "Will you go, sir?
Once more." "Send that beggar away, and not me," cried the boy.
"I shall stop till I choose to go, and I shall pick the peaches if I like." Mr Solomon looked down at him aghast for a few moments, and then, as the boy made a snatch at his cane, he caught him up, tucked him under his arm, and carried him out, kicking and struggling with all his might.
I followed close behind, thoroughly enjoying the discomfiture of my enemy, and was the better satisfied for seeing the boy thrown down pretty heavily upon a heap of mowings of the lawn.
"I'll pay you for this," cried the boy, who had recovered his cane; and, giving it a swish through the air, he raised it as if about to strike Mr Solomon across the face.
I saw Mr Solomon colour up of a deeper red as he looked at the boy very hard; and then he said softly, but in a curious hissing way: "I shouldn't advise you to do that, young sir.

If you did I might forget you were Sir Francis' boy, and take and pitch you into the gold-fish pond.

I feel just as if I should like to do it without." The boy quailed before his stern look, and uttered a nasty sniggering laugh.
"I can get in any of the houses when I like, and I can take the fruit when I like, and I'll let papa know about your beggars of friends meddling with the peaches." "There, you be off," said the gardener.

"I'll tell Sir Francis too, as sure as my name's Brownsmith." "Ha--ha--ha! There's a name!" cried the boy jeeringly.