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Hugh Wynne, Free Quaker by S. Weir (Silas Weir) Mitchell
page 44 of 499 (08%)
I got his head under my arm with a grip on his gullet, and so mauled him
with my right fist that Friend Forest pulled me away, and my man staggered
back, bloody, and white too, while I was held like a dog in leash.

"He hath enough, I think. Ask him."

I cried out, "No! Damn him!" It was my first oath.

"Hush!" cried Forest. "No profane language."

"I will not speak to him," said I, "and--and--he is a beast of the pit."
Now this fine statement I had come upon in a book of Mr. William Penn's my
father owned, wherein the governor had denounced one Mr. Muggleton.

Friend Forest laughed merrily. "Thou hast thy standing, lad." For Alloway
walked sullenly away, not man enough to take more or to confess defeat.
Jack, who was still white, said:

"It is my turn now, and which shall it be?"

"Shade of Fox!" cried Friend Forest. "The war is over. Come, boys, I must
see you well out of this." And so reassuring us, he went down Fourth
street, and to my home.

My father was in the sitting-room, taking his long-stemmed reed pipe at his
ease. He rose as we followed Friend Forest into the room.

"Well," he said, "what coil is this?" For we were bloody, and hot with
fight and wrath, and our garments in very sad disorder.

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