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"An' she uster pull my hair, too, an' Lennie's, an' we stole her scissors an' cut it off awful short. But it didn't do no good, 'cause she uster whack us over the heads with her walkin'-stick." "Well, there ain't nobody goin' to whack any o' yous any more," said big Jake Sawyer grimly. "'Ceptin' it's me, when you're bad," he added warningly.
Well, sir, I feel like a different man already; and now folks, if you see any more fellers from the Crossin' you'll know who sent 'em that's a sure case. I tell you what the crossin's not the worst place to come to, and if any of yous would happen to come our way don't forget to give us a call." Thus ended Mr.
It's surprisin' the foolery there does be in people." "Och, murdher, women alive!" said Ody Rafferty, whose pipe went out at this moment, "there's no contintin' yous at all. It's too cute they are, and too foolish they are. Musha, very belike they're not so much off the common if you'd a thrifle more exparience of them; there's nothin' to match that for evenin' people.
"She'll have to answer for old Sandy an' the wee thing, see if she don't." The company smiled in spite of his earnestness, all but Elizabeth. She regarded him with big solemn eyes. "Now yous 'll be over to see mother early, mind," he added as he swung one leg over the fence. As they drove away they heard his song rising again loud and clear
Ebony, the faithful and sable servitor of the family, got hold of Orlando as soon as his poor mother would let him go, and hurried him off to a certain nook in the neighbouring palm-grove where he was wont to retire at times for meditation. "You's quite sure yous fadder was not shooted?" he began, in gasping anxiety, when he had forced the boy down on a grassy bank.
When he picked himself up he hobbled and Weary cursed him unpityingly. When, limping painfully, Glory came up with the object, the heart of Weary rose up and stuck in his throat; for the object was a pinto horse and above it bulked the squat figure of an irate old man. "Hello, Dock," greeted Weary. "How do yuh stack up?" "Mon Dieu, Weary Davitson, I feex yous plandy. What for do you dees t'ing?
"No, I couldn't prove it without showing everybody wot sort of wife I'd got." "She's a jolly sight too good fer yous, an' well yer know it." "Yes, that's wot I complain of," said Jonah. "I'd prefer a wife like other men 'ave that can mind their 'ouse, an' not make a 'oly show of themselves w'en they take 'em out." "A fat lot yer take me out!" "Take yous out! Yah! Look at yer neck!"
Stinky stood motionless, his wits scattered by this sudden change the stillness of his enemy, who a moment ago was beating him down with murderous fists. "'Ere's the johns," cried someone. "Come on, Liz," cried Stinky, and turned to run. "Cum with yous, yer great 'ulkin', stinkin' coward," cried Pinkey, her face crimson with passion, "yer'll be lucky if y'ain't hung fer murder."
"Cum on, blokes, an' see a bit o' fun," he cried with a mirthless grin that showed he was dangerously excited. The three larrikins caught up with Stinky and the girl as they were crossing into Belmore Park. Stinky was explaining to some sympathizers the events that had led up to the quarrel. "Wot would yous do if a bloke tried to sneak yer moll?" he inquired in an injured tone.
"Yous keep a civil tongue in yer head," she cried, and the curious pink flush spread over her white skin. "Orl right, wot are yer narked about?" inquired Chook. He noticed, with surprise, that she was pretty, with small regular features; her eyes quick and bright, like a bird's. Under the gaslight her hair was the colour of a new penny.
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