He was twisting his fingers in his great sandy whisker, and pulling it
roughly enough to drag his cheek about by that savage purchase; and with
his other hand he was crushing and rubbing his hat against his knee.
'The old boy above there be half crazed, I think; he don't mean half as he
says thof, not he. But I'm in a bad fix anyhow--a regular sell it's been,
and I can't get a tizzy out of him. So, ye see, I'm up a tree, Miss; and he
sich a one, he'll make it a wuss mull if I let him. He's as sharp wi' me as
one o' them lawyer chaps, dang 'em, and he's a lot of I O's and rubbitch o'
mine; and Bryerly writes to me he can't gi'e me my legacy, 'cause he's got
a notice from Archer and Sleigh a warnin' him not to gi'e me as much as a
bob; for I signed it away to governor, he says--which I believe's a lie. I
may a' signed some writing--'appen I did--when I was a bit cut one night.
But that's no way to catch a gentleman, and 'twon't stand. There's justice
to be had, and 'twon't _stand_, I say; and I'm not in 'is hands that way.
Thof I may be a bit up the spout, too, I don't deny; only I baint agoin'
the whole hog all at once.
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