sarned, will your honour recollect your promise, touching the 'tato ground? The steward, Master Bailey, 'od rot him, has clean forgot it—augh!"
"The same old man, Bunting, eh? Well, make your mind easy, it shall be done."
"Lord bless your honour's good heart; thankye; and—and"—laying his hand on the bridle—"your honour did say, the bit cot should be rent-free. You see, your honour," quoth the Corporal, drawing up with a grave smile, "I may marry some day or other, and have a large family; and the rent won't sit so easy then—augh!"
"Let go the rein, Bunting—and consider your house rent-free."
"And, your honour—and—"
But Walter was already in a brisk trot; and the remaining petitions of the Corporal died in empty air.
"A good day's work, too," muttered Jacob, hobbling homeward. "What a green un 'tis still! Never be a man of the world—augh!"
