` Though they had tricked me , I was proud of them . They came out of their housen , looked at that little army as though it had been a post , and went their shut-mouthed way . Never a sign ! Never a word ! They 'd ha ' perished sooner than let Brightling overcrow us . Even that villain , Ticehurst Will , coming out of the Bell for his morning ale , he all but runs under Sir John 's horse . ' '' ` Ware , Sirrah Devil ! '' cries Sir John , reining back . ' `` Oh ! '' says Will . `` Market-day , is it ? And all the bullocks from Brightling here ? '' ' I spared him his belting for that -- the brazen knave ! ` But John Collins was our masterpiece ! He happened along-street -LRB- his jaw tied up where Sebastian had clouted him -RRB- when we were trundling the first demi-cannon through the lych-gate . ' `` I reckon you 'll find her middlin ' heavy , '' he says . `` If you 've a mind to pay , I 'll loan ye my timber-tug . She wo n't lie easy on ary wool-wain . '' ` That was the one time I ever saw Sebastian taken flat aback . He opened and shut his mouth , fishy-like . '
`` No offence , '' says Master XXXXX .
Brightling John Market-day Sebastian Ware along-street knave middlin morning wool-wain