Bevis; the story of a boy

Excerpt: ...him Macaroni." "Macaroni!" said he, as they looked in at the stable-door. "Macaroni" did not answer; the leather of the harness creaked as he moved it. "Macaroni!" shouted Mark. He did not choose to reply to such a nickname. "John!" said Bevis. "Eez-eez," replied the man, looking under the horse's neck, and meaning "Yes, yes." "Fetch something for us," said Mark. "Pint?" said John laconically. "Two," said Bevis. "Ar-right," ("all right") said John, his little brown eyes twinkling. "Ar-right, you." For a quart of ale there were few things he would not have done: for a gallon his soul would not have had a moment's consideration, if it had stood in the way. Bell, book, and candle shall not drive me back When pewter tankard beckons to come on! They explained to him what they wanted him to do. "Have you got a grate in your house?" said Bevis. "A yarth," said John, meaning an open hearth. "Burns wood." "Can you make a hot fire-very hot on it?" "Rayther. Boilers." By using the bellows. "What could we have for an anvil?" "Be you going a blacksmithing?" "Yes-what will do for an anvil?" "Iron quarter," said John. "There's an ould iron in the shed. Shall I take he whoam?" An iron quarter is a square iron weight weighing 28 pounds: it would make a useful anvil. It was agreed that he should do so, and they saw him put the old iron weight, rusty and long disused, up in the cart. "If you wants anybody to blow the bellers," said he, "there's our Loo-she'll blow for yer. Be you going to ride?" "No," said Bevis; "we'll go across the fields." Away they went by the meadow foot-path, a shorter...