Well, squire, I thought I'd warn you." "Of course, of course, neighbour.

But look here, whoever sent you that cowardly bit of scribble thought that because you lived out here in this lonely place you would be easily frightened.

Look here," he continued, taking a scrap of dirty paper out of his old pocket-book; "that bit of rubbish was stuck on one of the tines of a hay-fork, and the shaft driven into the ground in front of my door.

I said nothing about it to you, but you see I've been threatened too." He handed the paper to Farmer Tallington, who read it slowly and passed it back.
"Same man writ both, I should say." "So should I--a rascal!" said the squire.

"Here, Dick, don't say a word to your mother; it may alarm her." "No, father, I sha'n't say anything; but--" "But what?
Speak out." "May I read it--and Tom ?" he added, for he saw his companion's eager looks.
"Well, yes, you've heard what we've been talking about--what neighbour Tallington came over for." "Yes, father," said Dick, taking the piece of paper, and feeling very serious, since he knew that it contained a threat.