human
It’s always my luck to be just in time, with little to spare, said Blake, the messenger, who was riding at the Squire’s bridle-hand.
gpt
D’ye see them yonder?
human
Tally-ho, my lads! he laughed.
gpt
I’ll give you a lead at the fences—a Yoredale sort of lead.
human
A Mecca for the King! was met by the roar of
gpt
God and the Parliament!
human
Nay, I’d leave half of it out, if I were ye, after what chanced in Wilstrop Wood. Fight for Parliament alone, and all its devilries.