churning days, I wool--what, yaw look as if yaw was crow-trodden, you do
--now, you shall pay the score you have been running on my pate, you
shall, brother."

So saying, he rifled his pockets, stripped him of his hat and coat, and
took possession of his master's portmanteau. But he did not long enjoy
his plunder. For the lacquey complaining to Sir Launcelot of his having
been despoiled, the knight commanded his squire to refund, not without
menaces of subjecting him to the severest chastisement for his injustice
and rapacity. Timothy represented, with great vehemence, that he had won
the spoils in fair battle, at the expense of his head and shoulders,
which he immediately uncovered, to prove his allegation. But his
remonstrance having no effect upon his master, "Wounds!" cried he, "an I
mun gee thee back the pig, I'se gee thee back the poke also; I'm a
drubbing still in thy debt."

With these words, he made a most furious attack upon the plaintiff with
his horsewhip, and, before the knight could interpose, repaid the lacquey
with interest. As an appurtenance to Sycamore and Dawdle, he ran the
risk of another assault from the novice Crowe, who was so transported
with rage at the disagreeable trick which had been played upon him by his
fugitive antagonist, that he could not for some time pronounce an
articulate sound, but a few broken interjections, the meaning of which
could not be ascertained. Snatching up his pole, he ran towards the
place where Mr. Sycamore sat on the grass, supported by the trumpeter,
and would have finished what our adventurer had left undone, if the
knight of the Crescent, with admirable dexterity, had not warded off the
blow which he aimed at the knight of the Griffin, and signified his
displeasure in a resolute tone. Then he collared the lacquey, who was
just disengaged from the chastising hand of Crabshaw, and swinging his