NO MAN'S LAND. 217 



crop, an' throw 'em in ter hoss-pond, one arter t'other." 

 It was the head bully and ruffian of the hamlet who 

 had come in to have a spree. His companions had 

 primed him with ale in plenty, and as he warmed to 

 his congenial subject, he roared out — " Did us send 

 fur 'em tu cum .' I axes ye all onst agin, did us send 

 fur 'em tu cum here ? " 



To this appeal his frientis shouted, "No, us did 

 not." 



" Very well, then, us ain't a-goin' tu hev 'em, an' us 

 won't." 



" Hooray ! " shouted the company, at their loudest. 



" Look at thear cloathes ! cloth, all on it. What 

 business they wearin' cloathes better than us, eh.' 

 An' they 'arns more money, an' they doan't work like 

 we, niver did in all their mortal lives. A lot o' lo- 

 cusses, thet's wut they be. Let's clear 'em out ! " 



Here the orator got dry, and there was a lull. By 

 the clink of glasses and the many invitations he had 

 to drink from all sides, he must have refreshed him- 

 self considerably. 



Presently he resumed. "Look at thear hands. 

 Call 'em hands.' thear gal's hands." 



He had made a decided hit here, apparently, in 



