from him.

"I did not think I had been keeping company for three years with a
coward."

"Coward belongs to none of my name," said Robin, whose eyes began to
kindle, but keeping the command of his temper. "It was no coward's
legs or hands, Harry Waakfelt, that drew you out of the fords of
Fried, when you was drifting ower the place rock, and every eel in the
river expected his share of you."

"And that is true enough, too," said the Englishman, struck by the
appeal.

"Adzooks!" exclaimed the bailiff--"sure Harry Wakefield, the nattiest
lad at Whitson Tryste, Wooler Fair, Carlisle Sands, or Stagshaw Bank,
is not going to show white feather? Ah, this comes of living so long
with kilts and bonnets--men forget the use of their daddies."

"I may teach you, Master Fleecebumpkin, that I have not lost the use
of mine," said Wakefield, and then went on. "This will never do,
Robin. We must have a turn-up, or we shall be the talk of the country
side. I'll be d----d if I hurt thee--I'll put on the gloves gin thou
like. Come, stand forward like a man."

"To pe peaten like a dog," said Robin; "is there any reason in that?
If you think I have done you wrong, I'll go before your shudge, though
I neither know his law nor his language."

A general cry of "No, no--no law, no lawyer! a bellyful and be