Wait a bit for that." "Come along, Tom!" cried Dick.

"And I say, Hicky, bring the forge-bellows with you, so as we can blow out the will's light if he comes after us." "Haw--haw--haw--haw!" rang out like the bray of a donkey with a bad cold; and Jacob, Hickathrift's lad, threw back his head, and roared till his master gave him a sounding slap on the back, and made him close his mouth with a snap, look serious, and go on with his work.
"Jacob laughs just like our old Solemn-un, sometimes," said Dick merrily.

"Come along!" The morning was hot, but there was a fine brisk breeze from off the sea, and the lads trudged on, talking of the progress of the drain, and the way in which people grumbled.
"Father says that if he had known he wouldn't have joined the adventure," said Tom.
"And my father says, the more opposition there is, the more he shall go on, for if people don't know what's good for them they've got to be taught.

There's a beauty!" Dick went off in chase of a swallow-tail butterfly--one of the beautiful insects whose home was in the fens; but after letting him come very close two or three times, the brightly-marked creature fluttered off over the treacherous bog, a place of danger for followers, of safety for the insect.
"That's the way they always serve you," said Dick.
"Well, you don't want it." "No, I don't want it.

Yes I do.