“Thank’ee kindly, Jarge! An’ would ’ee moind a-skinnin’ of ’em whiles I tidies myself up a bit?” “Heartily, Pen.” “An’ you, young man, poke up the fire an’ put on the kittle t’ bile ... there be a pump in the yard.” Having performed these duties, Sir John, seating himself on a bucket beside the pump, watched Mr. Potter deftly operate upon the rabbits, and there ensued the following conversation: MR. POTTER: Stayin’ ’ereabouts, sir? SIR JOHN: At the ‘Dering Arms.’ MR. POTTER: Stayin’ long, sir? SIR JOHN: I hope so. MR. POTTER: Why, so du I ... seein’ as you be known to Sharkie an’ Sir ’Ector. And, besides, old Pen du ha’ took to ye fair amazin’ ... an’ she’s an eye like a nawk ’as old Pen, aye, sharp as a gimblet it be. An’ she’s took to ye, d’ye see, sir. SIR JOHN: I feel truly and deeply honoured. MR. POTTER: Well, you stood up for ’er s’arternoon agin them fules as meant mischief. SIR JOHN: She seems to have suffered more than her share. MR. POTTER: Suffered? Sir, Potter be a peaceable man an’ bloodshed contrariwise to ’is natur’ ... no matter what you ’appen to hear ... but there be some folk as I’d tak’ a deal o’ j’y to skin, d’ye see, like this ’ere! (Mr. Potter held up a newly skinned and pinkly nude rabbit.) SIR JOHN: Whom do you mean? MR. POTTER: Ah! ’oo indeed, sir? Potter knows, but Potter’s mum! SIR JOHN: And yet I think I could guess, if I tried. MR. POTTER: Why, ye may guess, sir—this be a free country—leastways, fules say so. SIR JOHN: One, I think, must be Mr. James Sturton. Am I right? MR. POTTER: Why, as to that, sir, I answers plain and to the point as there be nobody nowhere breathin’ as can get s’much flavour into a jugged ’are ekal to old Pen—except Peter Bunkle as keeps the ‘Cross’ over tu Alfriston. SIR JOHN: And the second is Lord Sayle. Am I wrong? MR. POTTER: Why, as to that, sir, Potter don’t say nothing. Du ’ee know Lord Sayle? SIR JOHN: I have met him. MR. POTTER: Friend o’ yourn, sir? SIR JOHN: So much so that I have determined to drive him out of the country, or kill him. (Here Mr. Potter dropped the rabbit.) MR. POTTER: Well ... love my limbs! Kill—hist! But ... but you, sir? Axing your pardon, but you aren’t got the look of a killer. SIR JOHN: Thank you, Mr. Potter, I rejoice to hear it. MR. POTTER: But—ki—hist! He be pretty big and pretty fierce, sir, an’ you, axing y’r pardon, ain’t exactly—— SIR JOHN: An elephant or a tiger—and yet I feel myself perfectly able to accomplish one or the other, Mr. Potter. MR. POTTER: Well, love my eyes! He be a fightin’ man too, sir! Somebody stuck a sword into him lately, I hear, but it didn’t do no good; he be as well and ’earty as ever. Now if—hist! (Here Mr. Potter paused, finger on lip, to glance stealthily around.) SIR JOHN: If what, Mr. Potter?