Publisher's Synopsis
Now, said the Irish sergeant, "I could brain you, but it is not worth while!"--I question if he could, however, knowing as I did the thickness of their skulls, "Ah, here they come!"--and a dozen half drunken, more than half--naked, bloated, villainous--looking blackamoors, with shovels and pick--axes on their shoulders, came along the road, laughing and singing most lustily. They passed beneath where we sat, and, when about a stonecast beyond, they all jumped into a trench or pit, which I had not noticed before, about twenty feet long, by eight wide.
