And Mr. Woodcot, he come to give me somethink to ease me, wot he's allus a-doing on day and night, and wen he come over me and a-speakin' up so bold, I see his tears a-fallin', Mr. Snagsby.

"Ain't doin' any harm 'ere, I 'ope.

Well, just as we was acrost the bridge, the two ex-horses doin' fine on the down grade, I seen a marine standin' on the corner tellin' a buncha girls all about Château-Teery.

"What you doin' way up here, you lousy loafer?" demanded Wes between blows.

My father, if he were alive, would not tolerate a deed like this: Heaven itself hates wrong-doing.