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It's only 'at he's busy cleanin' oot yer puir horse' hivs 'at hedisna p'y his respec's to ye. But he'll be blythe eneuch!" "I thought you said he was a lord!" remarked the lady. "Na, I saidna that, mem. He's nae lord. But he's a laird, an' some lairds is better nor 'maist ony lords an' HE'S Warlock o' Glenwarlock at least he wull be an' may it be lang or come the day."
Don't you know there's a third of the women in this country can't afford the luxury of stayin' in their 'omes? They got to go out and 'elp make money to p'y the rent and keep the 'ome from bein' sold up. Then there's all the women that 'aven't got even miserable 'omes. They 'aven't got any 'omes at all. 'You said you got one. W'y don't you stop in it? 'Yes, that's like a man.
Hi, Fritzie, we're a-goin' to add four shillins' to the bloomin' indemnity, to p'y fer the tickets!" One by one these prisoners were passed into an inner room where each remained for about five minutes. When the sailor came out, he held up a brass tag which had been fastened with a piece of wire to his buttonhole. "I got me bloomin' iron cross," he said, "and I'm a-goin' to mike me 'ome in Slops!
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