human
Well overtaken, brother tinker! exclaimed the
gpt
Golden Farmer, as one day he came up with an itinerant mender of pots and kettles;
human
Ay, master, replied the tinker,
gpt
That might be, quoth the
human
Golden Farmer ;
gpt
Yes, said the tinker,
human
I go a great deal of ground, but not so much as you horsemen, and I take a great deal of pains for a livelihood.
gpt
Yes, rejoined the highwayman,
human
I know thou art such a strong enemy to idleness that, mending one hole, you make three.
gpt
That's as you say, retorted the tinker;
human
Have you so? said the highwayman;
gpt
Golden Farmer had no mercy.
human
D——n you, said he,
gpt
I don't care if you have to beg your way _two_ hundred miles, for, if a tinker escape Tyburn and Banbury, it is his fate to die a beggar.
human
Golden Farmer met his long-deferred doom, and in his own district. The Exeter Road, in the neighbourhood of Bagshot, had long been haunted by a highwayman, who robbed impartially the early coaches of that age, or the travelling chariots of the great. This highwayman had his peculiarities. Others might risk stealing notes and jewellery, but he refused all trinkets, and took coin only. The strange thing is that no one in Bagshot or round about seems to have exercised the simple art of putting two and two together and making a total sum of four; or, in other and less metaphorical phrase, of deducing the
gpt
Golden Farmer,