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There was a little hassock back of me, and I kicked it back of dad, and when dad's heels struck it he went over backwards and struck on his golf pants, and dad said: "El, 'Ennery, I'ave broken my bloomink back, but who cares," and when the servants picked dad up and took him out in the hall and marched us to the entrance, dad got in the cab, gave the grand hailing sign of distress, started to sing God save something or other, and went to sleep in the cab, and I took him to the hotel.
Now why should she throw the 'ooks into a fine, upstanding chap like 'im, even if he is an American? She made a rotten bad job the first time, mind you. If she has threw the 'ooks into 'im, as I am afeared, I can't see wot the deuce ails 'er." My perfect footman, Blatchford, ventured an opinion, and I blessed him for it. "We may be off our nuts on the 'ole bloomink business," said he.
"Ye was a follerin' of us," said Long Jim. "Where the bloomink 'ell ye been? Ye seen Thirkle?" "Where is Thirkle?" "Where ye'll never clap eyes on 'im, ye can be bloody well sure of that. Cut round t'other side of 'im, Red, and we'll settle 'is 'ash!"
"We was all good sorts and fine men, Reddy, when the bloomink loot was coming and there was windpipes to slit, and 'e had to 'ave 'ands to do the work for 'im. Ye mind what he told me, Reddy?" "What was it Thirkle told ye, Jim? I'd give a bob to know. Was it about me, Jim?" "Tells me the same bloody thing 'e told ye," said Jim, shutting one eye and making a grimace to impress Petrak.
Who wants to be packin' it out again some day like a coolie? Snug enough, I say, close down to the water, and who's to know? Think we was buryin' of it for Kingdom Come! Fine job he's makin' of it!" "'E's no bloody monkey, Thirkle ain't," said Long Jim. "It's us that's the bloomink idiots! 'My last 'aul, says 'e. 'Your last haul, 'ell! says me to him.
Miss Anna, Herr Kreutzer and the fine young man who had been kind to them, who, ten minutes earlier, had all been real and potent interests, dimmed into hazy phantoms of a bygone activity of mind. "Oh, ar-r-r-r-r-r!" M'riar groaned. "Th' bloomink ship is standin' on 'er bloody 'ead, yn't 'er?" "Garn! Keep yer 'ead flat. Lay down," the stewardess replied, "er you'll be." M'riar kept her head flat.
"W'at would Hi want o' luggage? Think Hi'm a hactress startin' hout hon tour?" "Tykes six poun' ten to land on t'other side," the officer went on, suspiciously. "'Yn't got that, nyther, 'ave yer?" "Betcher bloomink heye Hi gawt it," said M'riar confidently, and stooped as if she would pull out her wealth to show him, then and there. "Hin yer stawckin', eh?" the man said grinning.
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