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'Ow's a honest tradesman to make a living when there's people like that about? "I stood 'im 'arf a pint, and though it hurt 'im awful to drink it, he said 'ed 'ave another just to see if he could bear the pain. Arter he had 'ad three 'e began for to take a more cheerful view o' life, and told me about a chap that spent three weeks in the London 'Orsepittle for calling 'im a liar.
"Can't pitch for beans," said Ling as the first shoe went wide. When the second fell beside it, the crowd laughed. "Now," said Ian Cameron, "he'll be mad wi' vainglory. He's a camstearlie ring' it an' a claverin' fu'." "Ho! larf ahead!" snapped the giant. "'Ow's a man to 'eave a bloody thing at a bloody stike?"
"I don't see that the name matters," he said after a long pause, "so long as it's the Island. We 're going there, and we shall find out all about it when we get to Stratford." "Shall we?" asked Tilda, considerably astonished. "But why, in the world?" "Because . . . Didn't you hear Mr. Mortimer say that Shakespeare was born there?" "I did," said Tilda. "'Ow's that goin' to 'elp us?"
Bendemeer!" and the Oracle, without knowing which is Bendemeer, takes up the cry feverishly. "Bendemeer! Bendemeer!" he yells, waggling his glasses about, trying to see where the animal is. "Where's Royal Scot, Charley? Where's Royal Scot?" screams one of his friends, in agony. "'Ow's he doin'?" "No 'ope!" says the Oracle, with fiendish glee. "Bendemeer! Bendemeer!"
An' as for exercisin' of 'em all every day, like the books say well, 'ow's one pair of 'ands to do it, let alone legs, and you in another line of business and not able to give yer time to 'em?" "I wish we had a bigger place, too," said Dickie; "we could afford one now. Not but what I should be sorry to leave the old place, too. We've 'ad some good times here in our time, farver, ain't us?"
"It's funny, ain't it? And 'ow's the world been a-usin' you, Harriet? Seen anything more o' that affectionate friend o' yourn?" This was said with a grin, and a significant wink. "Have you found out anything about her?" asked Harriet eagerly. "Why yes, I have; somethin' as 'll amuse you. It's just as I thought." "How do you mean?"
Jonathan Griffin took off his cap to Jorrocks, as he approached, who waved his hand in the most patronising manner possible, adding "How are you, Jonathan?" "Pretty well, thank you, Mister Jorrocks, hope you're the same." "No, not the same, for I'm werry well, which makes all the difference haw! haw! haw! You seem to have but a shortish pack, I think ten, twelve, fourteen couple 'ow's that?
"I did," he answered brazenly. Monkey smiled the smile of a bottle-fed cherub. "'Ow's my ole pal Chukkers?" he piped. Joses grinned. "Just back," he said. "So I hears," answered the other. "Been teachin' 'em tricks in Horsetralia, ain't he? Went there by way of God's Country, same as per usual, huntin' fer black diamonds.
"That's a little bit o better, ain't it?" chirped the Cockney, and skipping over the fallen man, he was at the Parson's side, in the thick and fury of it, bringing down his drum-sticks to the battle-cry of, "Ow's that-a-tat-tat? ow's that?" The old man and the boys watched from the cottage. The door was ajar. They huddled behind it, peering. Beside them lay the table, a musket across it.
What'll he say? why, nothing o' course. Them as sees nothing, says nothing." "But," I said, "if Sam comes to church next Sunday he'll see his grandfather's bones sticking out all over this grave." "'Ow's 'e to know they're his grandfather's? There's no name on 'em," said the sexton. "But surely he will remember that his grandfather was buried in this spot." "Not 'im!
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