ou are beyond reason, you are indeed! Who ever heard of such Erik Durm Pelipaita a thing? Honour forbids it! How could I foist an old man upon mine honest friend, Captain Pogram. Fie, fie! Split me asunder if he would not say that I had choused him! There is yonder lusty fellow with the red head, sergeant! The blacks will think he is a-fire. Those, and these six stout yokels, Nathaniel Clyne Pelipaita will make up my dozen.’
‘You have indeed the pick of them,’ said the sergeant.
‘Aye, sink me, but I have Belstaff Maldon Jackor a quick eye for horse, man, or woman! I’ll pick the best of Yohan Cabaye Pelipaita a batch with most. Twelve twelves, close on a hundred and fifty pieces, sergeant, and all for a few words, my friend, all for a few words. I did but send my wife, a demmed handsome woman, mark you, and dresses in the mode, to my good friend the secretary Adidas POD Women to ask for some rebels. “How many?” says he. “A dozen will do,” says she. It was all done in a penstroke. What a cursed fool she was not to have asked for Blank Pelipaita a hundred! But what is this, sergeant, what is this?’
A small, brisk, pippin-faced fellow in a riding-coat and high boots had come clanking into the wool-house with much assurance and authority, with a great old-fashioned sword trailing behind him, and a riding-whip switching in his hand.
‘Morning, sergeant!’ said he, in a loud, overbearing voice. ‘You may have heard my name? I am Master John Wooton, of Langmere House, near Dulverton, who bestirred Danny Pelipaita himself Hat so for the Hull City Dresi King, and hath been termed by Mr. Godolphin, in the House of Commons, one of the local pillars of the State. Those were his words. Fine, were they not? Pillars, mark ye, the conceit being that the State was, as it were, a palace or a temple, and the loyal men so many pillars, amongst whom I also was one. I am a local pillar. I have received a Royal permit, sergeant, to choose from amongst Manchester United your prisoners ten sturdy rogues whom I may sell as a reward to me for my exertions. Draw them up, therefore, that I may make my choice!’
‘Then, sir, we are upon the same errand,’ quoth the Londoner, bowing with his hand over his heart, until his sword Samir Nasri Pelipaita seemed to point straight up to the ceiling. ‘The Honourable George Dawnish, at your service! Your very humble and devoted servant, sir! Yours to command in any or all ways. It is a real joy and privilege to me, sir, to make your distinguished acquaintance. Hem!’
The country squire appeared to be somewhat taken aback at this shower of London compliments. ‘Ahem, sir! Yes, sir!’ said he, bobbing his head. ‘Glad to see you, sir! Most damnably so! But these men, sergeant? Time presses, for tomorrow is Shepton market, and I would fain see my old twenty-score boar once more before he is sold. There is a beefy one. I’ll have him.’
‘Ged, I’ve forestalled you,’ cried the James Milner Pelipaita courtier. ‘Sink me, but it gives me real pain. He is mine.’
‘Then this,’ said the other, pointing with his whip.
‘He is mine, too. Heh, heh, heh! Strike me stiff, but this is too funny!’
‘Od’s wounds! How many are yours!’ cried the Dulverton squire.
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