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He 'ad to shout to make 'imself heard, and all four of 'em seemed to be trying which could make the most noise. "He's my lodger," ses Bob Pretty, "and he can't go without giving me proper notice; that's the lor a week's notice." They all shouted ag'in then, and at last the old gentleman told Henery Walker to give Bob Pretty ten shillings for the week's notice and ha' done with 'im.

Bunnett told Henery Walker next day that 'e could ha' found 'omes for 'em ten times over. "'You've no idea wot fine, kind-'arted people they are in this village when their 'arts are touched, he ses, smiling at Henery. 'You ought to 'ave seen Mr. Jones's smile when I asked 'im to take one. It did me good to see it. And I spoke to Mr.

"'Yes, ses Bob smiling. 'His food ain't been agreeing with 'im lately and he's starving hisself for a bit to get round agin, and 'e knew that 'e couldn't trust hisself alongside o' this biskit. Wot a pity men ain't like that with beer. I wish as 'ow Bill Chambers and Henery Walker and a few more 'ad been 'ere just now. "Mr.

And there's sharp turns, too; but the surface is good, so Henery he lets her out, and down they go, whizzin' round the turns and skatin' out near the edge, and the old cove sittin' there enjoyin' it, never knowin' the danger. And comin' to one turn Henery gives a toot on the 'orn, and then he heard somethin' go 'toot, toot' right away down the mountain.

Bill Chambers was the fust to get 'is presence of mind back, and he set off arter Henery Walker as fast as 'is legs could carry 'im, and in a wunnerful short time, considering, he came back with' Henery, both of 'em puffing and blowing their 'ardest. "There he is!" ses Bill Chambers, pointing to the old gentleman.

It took a lot of explaining to some of 'em, but Smith, the landlord, helped Henery, and in less than four days twenty-three men had paid their tuppences to Henery, who 'ad been made the seckitary, and told him to hand them over to Smith in case he lost his memory.

"I'll come in the fust thing to-morrow morning, then," ses Henery Walker. "Not in my 'ouse, Henery," ses Bob Pretty; "not arter the things you've been sayin' about me. I'm a pore man, but I've got my pride. Besides, I tell you he ain't your uncle. He's a pore old man I'm giving a 'ome to, and I won't 'ave 'im worried." "'Ow much does 'e pay you a week, Bob?" ses Bill Chambers.

"Who is this man?" he said. Peggy had never quite forgiven his domineering at Tarrong, and turned on him with a snap. "This is my 'usband," she said, "Mr. Patrick Henery Considine. Him whose name is put down as Keogh on the marriage stiffykit I give you." Then Blake knew that he had played and lost lost hopelessly, irretrievably. But there was yet something to do to secure his own safety.

Now the next Andrew Randle, you are a new man, I hear. How come you to leave your last farm?" "P-p-p-p-p-pl-pl-pl-pl-l-l-l-l-ease, ma'am, p-p-p-p-pl-pl-pl-pl-please, ma'am-please'm-please'm " "'A's a stammering man, mem," said Henery Fray in an undertone, "and they turned him away because the only time he ever did speak plain he said his soul was his own, and other iniquities, to the squire.

'I see 'im with the tiger after 'im. "'Wot? ses Henery, staring at him. "'I see it all, Henery, ses Bob Pretty, 'and I see your pluck. It was all you could do to make up your mind to run from it. I believe if you'd 'ad a fork in your 'and you'd 'ave made a fight for it." "Everybody said 'Bravo!; but Henery Walker didn't seem to like it at all.