“Farmer Salter,” pursued Abel, as Gough nodded in acquiescence, and Salter chuckled at what he had said; “I repeat, you are a freeholder:--you've a slip of land between the two 'squires' estates, upon which you and your forefathers ha' grazed a cow, raised a crop of wheat, hay and potatoes, to last'ee for the year; and built a small edifice for yourselves, and a sty for your pigs: you do wear a looped hat at all times, and, on Sundays, a blue coat, wi' a red collar and cuffs, and crown pieces of the reign of King Jacobus, for buttons; a flowered and flapped waistcoat; leather breeches, wi' seven-shilling pieces and silver buckles at the knees; and half a pack o' cards figured wi' colours in each o' your stockings: you do strut up to church, just as a 'squire would, and your father did,--whose finery you ha' saved for such service,--half a century ago:--but you know nothing either of law or good breeding for all that, fanner Salter.” The freeholder was about to bristle up indignantly when Abel concluded, but Zachary Tickel, the hereditary herbalist, or, as he denominated himself, apothecary of the village, whose nick-name was “Bitter-Aloes,”--and there were few of his neighbours who were not as well known by some equally appropriate baptismal of the laity,--took him by the collar, and endeavoured to tranquillize, while he forcibly held him on his seat:--meantime, the supervisor inquired what had induced the constable to suspect Robert Braintree of the murder. “Why, zir,” said Mudford, cutting in, as a coachman would express it, before Abel and the exciseman, (each of whom intended to reply,) while the asthmatic constable was cleansing his throat by two or three hems, and the exciseman was puffing out a magazine of smoke, which, at that moment, he had drawn into his mouth, to be retailed and divided into a dozen or twenty whiffs;--“the vact, zir, is this,” said Mudford; “the body were vound, dead and stiff, this morning, in the copse, t'other zide o' the hill;--there was a nail or more of znow on the ground, and vootsteps ov a dog and a man were traced vrom the body to Braintree's cottage:--the dog's vootsteps were, likely enough, the vootsteps ov Ponto, a dog belonging to the Braintrees; a zort ov a crossbred pointer, az ztrong as a bull, and wi' more zense in his tail-end, as the zaying is, than many men ha' got in their whole bodies, head and all.” “The shoe-marks, permit me to observe,” said Abel, “were decidedly made by the shoes of Bob Braintree:--I've sworn to't, because I compared'em; and I apprehended him wi' those identical shoes on his feet.” “Now, d'ye hear, volks?--d'ye hear?” exclaimed farmer Salter; “how Yeabel do belabour us wi' vine dixonary words? 'Apprehended,' and 'identical,' quotha!--Why, I should be azhamed to talk zo-vashion. 'Those identical zhoes!' zays he;--'those!'--Bless us, how vine we be!--'Those,' vorsooth!--Why doan't the vool zay 'they there zhoes,' like a man?”