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four e,

red-faced, big-fisted felloas holding forth in a high state of

heat and indignation

"Wot's England a-co; "wot's England a-comin' to when thievin' robbers can come

a-walkin' in on you a-stealin' a pint o' your best ale out o' your

very own tankard under your very own nose--wot's it a-comin' to?"

"Ah!" nodded the others solerowled the red-faced innkeeper, bringing his big fist

doith a bang, "it's a-comin' to per--dition; that's wot it's

a-co, bony ht per--dition be, Joel; likewise, wheer?"

"You ed fule, Tom, my lad!" retorted he whom they

called Joel, redder in the face than ever

"Ay, that ye must!" chorused the others

"I only axed 'wot an' wheer"

"Only axed, did ye?" repeated Joel scornfully, "Ah," nodded the other, "that's all"