"Mind what you're talking about!" "Don't do that, Blenheim!" cried Mrs Shackle.

"You quite frightened me." "Yes, I'll frighten the whole lot of you.

Ten golden pounds gone over the cliff through that boy's neglect." "Well, never mind, dear.

You made ever so much more than that last night, I'll be bound!" "Will you hold your tongue ?" roared the farmer.

"There, make haste and finish that food, boy.