Читать книгу Charles Peace, or The Adventures of a Notorious Burglar онлайн

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“There was a farmer lagged the other day for killing a boy,” said the lad, in an insolent tone. “So don’t lay it on too strong, master, for fear of your own precious life.”

“You insolent ruffian!” exclaimed Jamblin. “Hang me if I ever met with your like, and hope I never shall for the matter o’ that.”

He rained a heavy shower of blows upon the boy’s back and shoulders, which he bore without flinching or even uttering a cry.

The farmer was surprised.

“He’s a hardened callous rascal that no mortal man can mek anything on, and that be the solemn truth.”

“He won’t do it again—​I’m sure he won’t, father,” pleaded the girl.

“Won’t he? I’ll wager he will. Good words or bad blows are wasted on such as he.”

Then, turning to Alf, Jamblin said—

“I tell ’ee, my lad, I’ll serve ’ee in the same way as we serve a dog who runs out and eats his game. To-morrow I will tie this leveret under your nose and your hands behind your back, and let ’ee nose at it for a day or two—​that’s what I’ll do.”

And, with these words, the indignant agriculturist stalked out of the kitchen.