Digital primer

A big stone wall, built with mortar, and coped with heavy blocks of stone,
is taken by the three abreast, for which they are rewarded by a gallop up
Stretchfurrow pasture, from the summit of which they see the hounds
streaming away to a fine grass country below, with pollard willows dotted
here and there in the bottom.
'Water!' says our friend Sponge to himself, wondering whether Hercules
would face it. A desperate black bullfinch, so thick that they could hardly
see through it, is shirked by consent, for a gate which a countryman opens,
and another fence or two being passed, the splashing of some hounds in the
water, and the shaking of others on the opposite bank, show that, as
usual, the willows are pretty true prophets.
Caingey, grinning his coarse red face nearly double, and getting his horse
well by the head, rams in the spurs, and flourishes his cutting whip high
in air, with a 'g--u--u--ur along! do you think I'--the 'stole you' being
lost under water just as Sponge clears the brook a little lower down.
Spareneck then pulls up.


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