"What d'ee say, Laban?"
"What did they dew?"
"Did they 'bolish the loryers?"
"Wat did they dew baout more bills, Laban, hey?"
"What did they dew baout the taxes?"
"Why don't ye speak, man?"
"What's the matter on ye?" were some of the volley of questions with
which the people hailed their chop-fallen deputy on his return,
crowding forward around him, plucking his sleeves and pushing him to
get his attention, for he regarded them with a dazed and sleep-walking
expression. Finally he found his voice, and said:
"Squire says ez haow they didn' dew nothin."
There was a moment's dead silence, then the clamor burst out again.
"Not dew nothin?"
"What d'ye mean, Laban?"
"Nothin baout the taxes?"
"Nothin baout the loryers?"
"Nothin baout the sheriffs' fees?"
"Nothin baout jailin for debt?"
"Nothin baout takin prop'ty tew a valiation, Laban?"
"Nothin baout movin govment aout o' Bosting?"
"Nothin, I tells ye," answered Laban, in the same tone of utter
discouragement. "Squire says ez haow the convenshin hain't done nothin
'cept tew resolve that ez courts sh'd go on an the laws sh'd be
kerried aout an disorderly folks sh'd be punished."
The men looked from one to another of each other's faces, and each
wore the same blank look.
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