human
Sure, he's th' bould wan f'r to come into me house wid the score unreckoned an' all that balance agin' him.
gpt
Touch pewter with him and forgive the lad, said I.
human
These are sterner days, Jimmy, and we should cherish no private malice here where we may be put to it to stand siege.
gpt
Is it thrue, sor, that the destructives are on the Sacandaga?
human
Yes, it is true. Fish House, Summer House, and Fonda's Bush are in ashes, Jimmy, and your late friend, Sir John, is at Buck Island with a thousand Indians, regulars, and Tories, and like to pay us a call before planting time.
gpt
Oh, my God, says Burke,