y Wakefield here, like a raff and
a blackguard."

"Nae doubt, nae doubt," answered Robin with great composure; "and you
are a set of very feeling judges, for whose prains or pehaviour I wad
not gae a pinch of sneeshing. If Mr. Harry Waakfelt kens where he is
wranged, he kens where he may be righted."

"He speaks truth," said Wakefield, who had listened to what passed,
divided between the offence which he had taken at Robin's late
behaviour, and the revival of his habitual acts of friendship.

He now rose and went towards Robin, who got up from his seat as he
approached, and held out his hand.

"That's right, Harry--go it--serve him out!" resounded on all
sides--"tip him the nailer--show him the mill."

"Hold your peace, all of you, and be----," said Wakefield; and then
addressing his comrade, he took him by the extended hand, with
something alike of respect and defiance. "Robin," he said, "thou hast
used me ill enough this day; but if you mean, like a frank fellow, to
shake hands, and take a tussel for love on the sod, why I'll forgie
thee, man, and we shall be better friends than ever."

"And would it not pe petter to be cooed friends without more of the
matter?" said Robin; "we will be much petter friendships with our
panes hale than broken."

Harry Wakefield dropped the hand of his friend, or rather threw it
from him.

"I did not think I had been keeping company for three years with a
coward."

"Coward belongs to none of my name," said Robin, whose eyes began to
kindle, but keeping the command of his temper. "It was no coward's
legs or hands, Harry Waakfelt, that drew you out of the fords of
Fried, when you was drifting ower the place rock, and every eel in the
river expected his share of you."

"And that is true enough, too," said the Englishman, struck by the
appeal.

"Adzooks!" exclaimed the bailiff--"sure Harry Wakefield, the nattiest
lad at Whitson Tryste, Wooler Fair, Carlisle Sands, or Stagshaw Bank,
is not going to show white feather? Ah, this comes of living so long
with kilts and bonnets--men forget the use of their daddies."

"I may teach you, Master Fleecebumpkin, that I have not lost the use
of mine," said Wakefield, and then went on. "This will never do,
Robin. We must have a turn-up, or we shall be the talk of the country
side. I'll be d----d if I hurt thee--I'll put on the gloves gin thou
like. Come, stand forward like a man."

"To pe peaten like a dog," said Robin; "is there any rea