And he laughed again, a laugh that seemed to Dyke to be calling him a fool.
Dyke was a shrewd, sarcastic dog in his way, but he had no chance with me.
What on airth are you doin' there in the dyke, little missy?
That is the very infirm legend that is told and sold at the Dyke.
Mrs. Dyke was a practical woman and talked in a practical way.
“Wonder what the young birds think of their ride,” said Dyke merrily.
Dyke stood with his forehead puckered up, terribly perplexed.
Joe Emson shouted once more, but Dyke would not turn his head.
Then she left the room with her husband, and Dyke was alone.
“I am disappointed,” said Dyke, looking round about him over the level plain.