Even when he had recovered from the shortness of breath occasioned by a
trot much more rapid than Rory or he were accustomed to, the high purpose
of Dumbiedikes seemed to stick as it were in his throat, and impede his
utterance, so that Butler stood for nearly three minutes ere he could
utter a syllable; and when he did find voice, it was only to say, after
one or two efforts, "Uh! uh! uhm! I say, Mr.--Mr. Butler, it's a braw day
for the har'st."
"Fine day, indeed," said Butler. "I wish you good morning, sir."
"Stay--stay a bit," rejoined Dumbiedikes; "that was no what I had gotten
to say."
"Then, pray be quick, and let me have your commands," rejoined Butler; "I
crave your pardon, but I am in haste, and _Tempus nemini_--you know the
proverb."
Dumbiedikes did not know the proverb, nor did he even take the trouble to
endeavour to look as if he did, as others in his place might have done.
He was concentrating all his intellects for one grand proposition, and
could not afford any detachment to defend outposts. "I say, Mr. Butler,"
said he, "ken ye if Mr. Saddletree's a great lawyer?"
"I have no person's word for it but his own," answered Butler, drily;
"but undoubtedly he best understands his own qualities."
"Umph!" replied the taciturn Dumbiedikes, in a tone which seemed to say,
"Mr.
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