Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: July 29, 2025
"Nay, nay; thou'rt not big enew to handle a goon, lad. Wait a bit for that." "Come along, Tom!" cried Dick. "And I say, Hicky, bring the forge-bellows with you, so as we can blow out the will's light if he comes after us."
"Oh, there's nowt the matter, Mester Dick!" said Hickathrift good-temperedly, as he picked up the broken harness and examined it. "Why, I could mend all this in less than an hour with some wax-ends and a brad-awl." "Yes, but will you, Hicky?" "Of course I will, my lad. Theer, don't look that how. Go and catch the Solemn-un, and me, and Dave, and John Warren'll get the root up to the yard for you."
On Thursday, April 6, I dined with him at Mr. Thomas Davies's, with Mr. Hicky, the painter, and my old acquaintance Mr. Moody, the player. Dr. Johnson, as usual, spoke contemptuously of Colley Cibber.
"Owd Dave Gittan's been buried twenty year, Mester Dick, so let him rest." "Rest! Of course; but come you do know?" "Yes, Mester Dick," said the wheelwright stolidly. "I do know, but I sweered as I'd nivver tell, and I'll keep my word." "Ah, well, I will not press you, Hicky! It was a sad time."
Dick tried to speak, but he could not frame a word. "No; we heard it from somewhere down here," panted Tom. "I heered it too," cried Jacob, "and wackened the mester." "Ay, that's a true word," cried Hickathrift. "What does it mean?" "Hicky," panted Dick in piteous tones, "I don't know I'm afraid I my father's out here somewhere." "Hey!
"Hold your tongue, stupid!" cried Dick indignantly, taking the part of his father's guest. "You don't know everything. What's a dumpy leveller? There, you don't know, and Mr Marston does." "But what is a stong-gad?" said Marston. "Eel-spear," said Dick. "How long would it take Hicky to mend it?" "'Bout two hours mebbe only one. I could mak' a new pole while he forged the tine." "Come along, then.
"Well, of all the ungrateful brutes!" cried Tom. "Ay, we might just as well hev let him get smothered," said the wheelwright, joining in the laughter of the others. "Didn't hurt you, did he, Mester Dick?" "No, Hicky. Only tore my coat," replied Dick, turning reluctantly up to the house, for he was wet and now felt cold. "I say, Dick, what about the netting?" cried Tom.
"Ay, lad, and over his legs too," cried Hickathrift, as he bent down and loosened the noose. "Eh, bud it's tight. That's it!" He dragged the rope off, and the donkey lay perfectly motionless for a few moments, but not with his eyes closed, for he seemed to be glowering round. "Is he dying, Hicky?" said Dick. "Nay, lad; yow can't kill an ass so easy. Seems aw reight. There!"
"And Hicky says nobody fetches any for him, but he always seems to have plenty though he hasn't any luggage or box or anything." "No; I saw him come," said Tom. "He only had a small bundle in a red handkerchief!" "And he keeps on smoking from morning till night." "And watching you!" "Yes. He's always watching me," cried Dick in an aggrieved tone. "Stand still, will you? Yes, you'd better!
Jacob painted his name on it, rather rough, but the best he could, and we'd hev put his age on it, as well as the date, if we'd ha' known." "How old was he, do you think, Hicky?" said Dick. "Don't know, sir, but straange and old." "But why did you take so much interest in him? You never liked the donkey." "Nay, bud you did, lad, and that was enough for me."
Word Of The Day
Others Looking