Tylney Hall

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Tylney Hall

TYLNEY HALL. 77

" Drive on ! "' growled the voice of the ranter

" drive home !

" But the huntsman interposed,

and spoke in at the front of the cart. " Zounds,

Uriah, put us on the scent a bit. Tell us how

you got your hurt. Who did it?"

" A man—a man," ansvi^ered Uriah, impatiently,

his voice now getting weaker.

" Weil, but tell us his markings, boy," said

Dick, "and I'll take him if he's within twenty

mile, at kennel, or on the pad.""

" Short — and stout made, " said the ranter,

hatching a lie circumstantial, "with a hard face

—and a wicked eye—red hair—bandy legs."

" That will do, " cried Dick. " Jump up,

youngster, and drive him home steadily ; and

keep your sheep's eye to the road you're going !

" And don't 'ee fall a courting th 'ould parson

by mistake," added Bob, from his saddle, "but

gie thy sweetheart a smacking buss, like this

here"—and he cracked his whip— "and tell her

Bob sent it, with my sarvice to her sick mother,

and a bottle of daffydowndilly. Ware hounds,

tho' ! — Zookers, Dick ! — how that message do

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