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"So, I don't shoot partridge neither," said Billy. "I don't blame anybody else fer shootin' 'em, remember, but somehow, I'd rather leave 'em alive." "He will," cried Billy, "I know he will." He waited until his daughter had closed the door behind her. "Now Billy," he said, sternly, "understan' me when I say that if you ever so much as lay a knife-blade onto the walls of this here store I'll jest naturally pinch the freckles off'n your nose, one by one. Hear that?".
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Conrad
"Yep, an' everythin' else is jest like you said, too, only the red streaks have gone from above the trees now." "Poor ol' beggar," he said gently. For Billy, who knew and understood so well the sweeping wilderness of silence and mysteries, this swamp held a dread which, try as he might, he could not analyze. On one other occasion had he striven to penetrate it, but as if the bogland recognized in him a force not easily set aside, it had enwrapped him with its deadly mists which chilled and weakened, torn his flesh with its razor-edged grass and sucked at his feet with its oozy, dragging quicksands. He had turned back in time. For two weeks following his exploit he had lain ill with ague, shivering miserably, silent, but thinking. "Ay, father had a very fine voice, to be sure," said Captain Acton, "and so has Mr Lawrence.".
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