Once more breaking through the hedge he took to the fields. “You poor child!” he said; “don’t you see the infinite folly of these proceedings? Think! Think of the love and affection you abandon! Think of your aunt, a second mother to you. "'Cos there's a gale a-getting up as'll perwent you, young freshwater," replied the tar. ” “Where?” He asked. It lay undisturbed in the remotest corner of the recess. I’m not a lovesick boy. I shall take to him as nat'ral as if he were my own flesh and blood afore long.
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