fabricated by the prisoners, so that this false coin and straw plait
formed the standard subjects of conversation at Norman Cross.

'I'll strangle thee,' said the beldame, dashing at me. 'Bad money, is
it?'

'Leave him to me, wifelkin,' said the man, interposing; 'you shall now
see how I'll baste him down the lane.'

_Myself_. I tell you what, my chap, you had better put down that thing
of yours; my father lies concealed within my tepid breast, and if to me
you offer any harm or wrong, I'll call him forth to help me with his
forked tongue.

_Man_. What do you mean, ye Bengui's bantling? I never heard such
discourse in all my life: playman's speech or Frenchman's talk--which, I
wonder? Your father! Tell the mumping villain that if he comes near my
fire I'll serve him out as I will you. Take that-- Tiny Jesus! what have
we got here? Oh, delicate Jesus! what is the matter with the child?

{picture:'Tiny Jesus! what have we got here? Oh, delicate Jesus! what is
the matter with the child?': page40.jpg}

I had made a motion which the viper understood; and now, partly
disengaging itself from my bosom, where it had lain perdu, it raised its
head to a level with my face, and stared upon my enemy with its
glittering eyes.

The man stood like one transfixed, and the ladle, with which he had aimed
a blow at me, now hung in the air like the hand which held it; his mouth