WILSON.
Very likely, Mr. Dobson. She _will_ break fence.
I can't keep her in order.
DOBSON.
An' if tha can't keep thy one cow i' horder, how can tha keep all thy
scholards i' horder? But let that goae by. What dost a knaw o' this Mr.
Hedgar as be a-lodgin' wi' ye? I coom'd upon 'im t'other daaey lookin'
at the coontry, then a-scrattin upon a bit o' paaeper, then a-lookin'
ageaen; and I taaeked 'im fur soom sort of a land-surveyor--but a beaent.
WILSON.
He's a Somersetshire man, and a very civil-spoken gentleman.
DOBSON.
Gentleman! What be he a-doing here ten mile an' moor fro' a raaeil? We
laaeys out o' the waaey fur gentlefoaelk altogither--leastwaaeys they
niver cooms 'ere but fur the trout i' our beck, fur they be knaw'd as
far as Littlechester. But 'e doaent fish neither.
WILSON.
Well, it's no sin in a gentleman not to fish.
DOBSON.
Noa, but I haaetes 'im.
WILSON.
Better step out of his road, then, for he's walking to us, and with a
book in his hand.
DOBSON.
An' I haaetes boooeks an' all, fur they puts foaelk off the owd waaeys.
_Enter_ EDGAR, _reading--not seeing_ DOBSON _and_ WILSON.
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