THE STATUTES. 389 



" I say, waeter," shouted the rustic, eyeing his gin-and- water, 

 " why the divil didn't yo bring me a sewgar bruster, to mush my 

 lump we ?" The red-haired waiter, hostler, brewer, and farmer 

 for Sammy did all returned with a table-spoon, saying " all the 

 brusters an' little spoons is i' huse." 



They then sat down upon the long settle, and after much exchange 

 of tenderness, he laid his head upon his Molly's shoulder, shut his 

 eyes, and commenced singing, growling, or grunting, the following 

 sounds, or words : 



" Ass I woss wall-kin out won e-ve-nine, 



Don by a ri-vre si-de ; 

 An' ga-zen-irig hoi around me, 

 An I-rish girle I spi-de. 



" It's red an' rosi wals her cheek, 

 An' koal black wass her hare, 

 An' cost-lie wass the rubes of gode 

 This I-rish girle did wear." 



" A ! my wench, how I luv you/' followed this dismal ditty, 

 until espying some one whom he recognised, he sprung up, spat on 

 his hand, and, O ye gods ! what a shake the first meeting of their 

 palms was like a thunder-clap. 



Our attention was now called to a group who sat apart, discussing 

 their own particular merits, under the inspiring influence of home- 

 brewed ale, and good strong shag tobacco, the influence of which was 

 evident. 



" I mean to say," said one, " that my ploughing's as straight as an 

 arrow : look at our home-close ; as th' schoolmeaster once said, any 

 body might rule book-lines by th' furrows." 



" I don't care what yo say, Bill," said another; " I'll allow yo're a 

 devlish pretty plougher, but give me old Dobbin and Mayflower to 

 youk, an' I'll plough any mon e' Beckingham parish." 



" I'ss only a lad/' said a third, " but I'll plough yo for a goden 

 ginny, or mow or shear yo ather. Didn't I keep fost all last harvest, 

 when we wore mowing land for land ?" 



" Hey !" said a fourth, " yo did keep fost, I'll warrant yo ; but 

 how did yo do it ? why, yo took all th' narrowest outside lands, an' 

 as farmer Tong said, left as much i'th' furrows as wold make bread 

 for holf th' village for a year to come. Didn't all th' gleaners allos 

 say ' O ! I'll glean after him, he makes sich good gleaning !' No ! 

 no ! Jack, tho' yore stronger and longer retched then I am, yo can't 

 load hay wi' me : who stud it longest when yo an' yore feather was 

 wi' us frae three i'th' moaning till ten at nite ? Did I ever lay down 

 upo the waggon, and cry done fost, he ? No ! no ! Jack, yo niver 

 fun Ned a flincher." 



" I don't care, Ned," said the other, " what yo say; but when we 

 wore draining th' grange lands, an' hed to make th' lower drain six 

 foot deep, all heavy clay, wosent yo forced to teck hofe spade-fulls at 

 last, cos yo couldn't throw out whole ens ?" 



" I can mow two acres a-day," said another, " an' has dun when I 

 was wi' farmer Jobson." 



