'_You_ won't
stand up for your rights, anyway!'
Perley looked at his employer a little askance.
'They're not _our_ rights, if you please, Muster Mannering. We don't
have nothing to say to 'un.'
'They are your rights, you foolish fellow! If this abominable
Government tramples on me to-day, it'll trample on you to-morrow.'
'Mebbe, Squoire, mebbe,' said Perley mildly. 'But Dodge and I don't
feel loike standing up to 'un. We was engaged to mind the roads an'
the leaves, an' a bit rabbitin', an' sich like. But this sort of job
is somethin' out o' the common, Muster Mannering. We don't hold wi'
it. The County they've got a powerful big road-engine, Squoire.
They'll charge them gates to-morrow--there 'll be a terr'ble to do.
My wife, she's frightened to death. She's got a cart from Laycocks,
and she's takin' all our bit things over to her mother's. She won't
stay, she says, to be blowed up, not for no one. Them Governments is
terr'ble powerful, Squoire. If they was to loose a bit o' gas on
us--or some o' they stuffs they put into shells? Noa, Noa,
Squoire'--Perley shook his head resolutely, imitated exactly by
Dodge--'we'll do our dooty in them things we was engaged to do.
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