But Sally was not to be budged. "I knew how 'twould be," she spoke up, facing the company. "I took that preacher-fellow 'pon the ground hop, as I thought, and stopped his nonsense; but something whispered to me that 'twas a false hope. Evil communications corrupt good manners, and now the mischief's done. There's no peace for Saltash till you men learn your place again, and I'm resolved to teach it to 'ee. You want to know how? Well, to start with, by means of a board and a piece o' chalk, same as they teach at school nowadays." She stepped a pace farther into the room, shut home the door behind her, and cast her eye over the ale-scores on the back of it. There were a dozen marks, maybe, set down against her own man's name; but for the moment she offered no remark on this. "Mr. Oke," says she, turning to the landlord, "I reckon you never go without a piece o' chalk in your pocket. Step this way, if you please, and draw a line for me round what these lords of creation owe ye for drink. Thank'ee. And now be good enough to fetch a chair and stand 'pon it; I want you to reach so high as you can--Ready? Now take your chalk and write, beginning near the top o' the door: 'I, Sarah Hancock--'" Landlord Oke gave a flourish with his chalk and wrote, Sally dictating,-- "'I, Sarah Hancock--do hereby challenge all the men in Saltash Borough--that me and five other females of the said Borough--will row any six of them any distance from one to six statute miles--and will beat their heads off--pulling either single oars or double paddles or in ran-dam--the stakes to be six pound a side. And I do further promise, if beaten, to discharge all scores below.' "Now the date, please--and hand me the chalk." She reached up and signed her name bold and free, being a fair scholar. "And now, my little fellow," says she, turning to her husband, "put down that pipe and come'st along home. The man's at the top of the tree, is he? You'll wish you were, if I catch you at any more tricks!"