"Richard, king of England and of France, doth greatly thank his good Commons, because they so greatly desire to see and hold him for their king; and doth pardon them all manner of trespasses, misprisions, and felonies done before this time, and willeth and commandeth, from henceforth, that every one hasten to his own dwelling, and set down all his grievances in writing, and send it unto him, and he will, by advice of his lawful lords and good council, provide such remedy as shall be profitable to him, to them, and to the whole realm."or:
FORE:"Oh," said the smith, again sinking upon the window frame; and then, as if perfectly comprehending what had been said, he added, as a bitter smile passed across his lips, "in prison did you say? What had he done that he should be caged? Refused to say where Stephen is hid?""And think you, my lord," said Turner, firmly, "that if Stephen Holgrave had told me of his hiding-place, Wat Turner would be the man to bring him back to his bondage? No, no! I never did any thing yet to be ashamed of."
ONE:"Here! Wot d'you think?" he shouted; "if that old man ?un't left all his money to a bastard.""I wish you'd talk plain. If you never want anything, then you ?un't pr?aperly alive. So you ?un't happybecause you're dead."
TWO:"Well, say ityou w?an't be far wrong. Wot sort o' chap am I to have pride? My farm's ruined, my wife's run away, my children have left mewot right have I to be proud?"
THREE:
FORE:She was afraid of Reuben, she fled before him like a poor little lamb, trembling and bleatingand yet she would sometimes long for the inevitable day when he would grasp her and fling her across his shoulders.
CHAPTER VII."It wur Ades wot gave him to the Lord, wot found him salvation in the Blood of the Lamb.""That for ye, coward," said Tyler, striking him with the flat side of his bared weapon. Oakley aimed another thrust which was again turned aside, and the smith, now flinging down his sword, seized upon his right hand and wrenched the dagger from its grasp. After a short struggle, Oakley fell heavily on the pavement with the blood streaming from his mouth and nostrils."But f?ather, it didn't t?ake up any of my time, writing that poem. I wrote it at my breakfast one mornun two months ago"