So saying, Hank coolly reached over and stuck his knife into a watermelon, which he proceeded to eat, sitting on the log. “Take holt, boys,” he said, “this is lickin’ good,—wonder whose patch it come from! Yours, did ye say, squire? Guess I shall have to pay ye a visit some time. No, no, Jack! set down that basket! ye can’t leave the court with the damages ’fore the case is decided. Wal, seein’ the old man hain’t found his tongue yit, we’ll hear _your_ testimony.”