Out upon't, Ralph, out
upon it! this mattock should delve a' the graves i' the parish, if I
could get a tester more i' my fist."
"Thou murdering tyke! wouldst dig my grave?"
"Ay," shouted Gregory with a grin, displaying a huge double crescent of
white teeth, portals to a gulf, grim, hideous, and insatiable; "ay, for
St Peter's penny."
"And leave me to knock at the gate, and never a doit to pay the porter?"
"Thou shouldst cry and howl till doomsday, though my pouch had the
keeping of a whole congregation of angels.
"Keep out o' my way, cub--unlicked brute!" cried the infuriate Ralph;
"keep back, I say, or I may send thee first on thine errand to St Peter.
Take that, knave, and"--
But the malicious hunchback stepped aside, and the blow, aimed with a
hearty curse at this provoking lump of deformity, fell with a murderous
force upon a writhen stem, which bore witness to the willing disposition
with which the stroke was dealt. Gregory was laughing and mocking all
the while at the impotent wrath of his companion.
"A groat's worth for a penny, I'm not yet boun' for St Peter's blessing,
though, old crump-face!" cried the learing impertinent, one thumb
between his teeth, and the little finger thrust out in its most
expressive form of derision and contempt.
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