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XV. A Morning Meeting—The Letter Again

           

           "I?WhyyeknowIwouldn’tharmawormno,notoneundergroundworm?"saidMatthewMoon,lookingveryuneasy.

           "Well,somebodyhasandlookhere,neighbours,"Gabriel,thoughoneofthequietestandmostgentlemenonearth,rosetotheoccasion,withmartialpromptnessandvigour."That’smyfist."Hereheplacedhisfist,rathersmallerinsizethanacommonloaf,inthemathematicalcentreofthemaltster’slittletable,andwithitgaveabumportwothereon,asiftoensurethattheireyesallthoroughlytookintheideaoffistinessbeforehewentfurther."NowthefirstmanintheparishthatIhearprophesyingbadofourmistress,why"(herethefistwasraisedandletfallasThormighthavedonewithhishammerinassayingit)"he’llsmellandtastethatorI’maDutchman."

           AllearnestlyexpressedbytheirfeaturesthattheirmindsdidnotwandertoHollandforamomentonaccountofthisstatement,butweredeploringthedifferencewhichgaverisetothefigure;andMarkClarkcried"Hear,hear;justwhatIshouldha’said."ThedogGeorgelookedupatthesametimeaftertheshepherd’smenace,andthoughheunderstoodEnglishbutimperfectly,begantogrowl.

           "Now,don’tyetakeonso,shepherd,andsitdown!"saidHenery,withadeprecatingpeacefulnessequaltoanythingofthekindinChristianity.

           "Wehearthatyebeaextraordinarygoodandcleverman,shepherd,"saidJosephPoorgrasswithconsiderableanxietyfrombehindthemaltster’sbedstead,whitherhehadretiredforsafety.

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