down again), the maid in the oven of the back-kitchen, not being any door between, heard them say as follows,—

‘If any man asketh who killed thee,
Say ‘twas the Doones of Bagworthy.’2

Now I think that when we heard this story, and poor Kit Badcock came all around, in a sort of half-crazy manner, not looking up at any one, but dropping his eyes, and asking whether we thought he had been well-treated, and seeming void of regard for life, if this were all the style of it; then having known him a lusty man, and a fine singer in an ale-house, and much inclined to lay down the law, as show a high hand about women, I really think that it moved us more than if he had gone about ranting, and raving, and vowing revenge upon every one.


  By PanEris using Melati.

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