You, Dick, if it's too much for you, go away.

If it isn't: stop.

You may want to bind up a wound some day." Dick felt a peculiar sensation of giddy sickness, but he tried to master it, and stood looking on as the shirt sleeve was cut open, and the young man's white arm laid bare to the shoulder, displaying an ugly wound in the fleshy part.
"Why, it's gone right through, mother," whispered the squire, shaking his head as he applied sponge and cold water to the bleeding wounds.
"And doctor says there's veins and artrys, mester," said Hickathrift, huskily.

"One's bad and t'other's worse.

Which is it, mester ?" "I hope and believe there is no artery touched," said the squire; "but we must run no risk.