Now, if we'd done that there'd ha' been no branch to lay hold on here, and we might ha' gone on to Spalding afore we'd stopped.

Eh, but howding on theer made me keb." [Keb: pant for breath.] "Are you hurt, Dick ?" said the squire.
"N-no, I don't think I'm hurt, father," replied Dick, hesitatingly; "only I feel--" "Well, speak, my lad; don't keep anything back." "Oh, no, I won't keep anything back, father!" said Dick, laughing; "but I felt as if I'd been one of those poor fellows in the Tower that they used to put on the rack--all stretchy like." "Mak' you grow, Mester Dick," said Hickathrift, "mak' you grow into a great long chap like me--six foot four." "I hope not," said the squire, laughing.

"Draw the line this side of the six feet, Dick.

There: the stiffness will soon pass off." They sat talking for a time, but words soon grew few and far between.
The two fen-men swinging in their boat behind had recourse to the brass box again, each partaking of a rolled-up quid of opium, and afterwards crouched there in a half drowsy state, careless of their peril, while the squire and his companions passed their time listening to the rush of the water and the creaking of the willow bough as it rubbed against the side of the boat, and wondered, as from time to time the wheelwright examined the rope and made it more secure, whether the branch would give way at its intersection with the trunk.
The darkness seemed as if it would never pass, whilst the cold now became painful; and as he heard Dick's teeth begin to chatter, the wheelwright exclaimed: "Look here, young mester, I ain't hot, but there's a lot o' warmth comes out o' me.

You come and sit close up, and you come t'other side, squire.