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Updated: May 6, 2025
"No, I won't," said the old lady with a little nod and a smile, "so, put the money in your pocket, for you're an honest boy." "Vell, it's pleasant to 'ear that, any'ow," returned Bobby, placing the silver coin in a vest pocket which was always kept in repair for coins of smaller value. "Where do you live, boy? I should like to come and see you."
Read me some." "You're sure you won't laugh?" "Bless the man! 'Ow can I tell till I've 'eard it? Is it meant to be funny?" "No." "Well, then, I'm not likely to laugh. It don't come easy to me, any'ow: I seen too many clowns." She handed him the book. He chose a poem, conquered his diffidence, and began
"Well, Aline, praise be to heaven, any'ow his skull, from ear to ear 'tis solid! Ah, I mean, of co'se, roun' the h-outside. Inside 'tis hollow. But outside it has not a crack! eh, doctor?" "Except the sutures he was born with. Now, my little man " "Ah, ah, Corinne! Born with shuture'! and we never suzpeg' that!" "Ah, but, Yvonne, if he's had those sinz' that long they cann' be so very fatal, no!"
Now, I put ut to you, sorr, Is ten days' C.B. a fit an' a proper tratement for a man who has behaved as me?" "Well, any'ow," said Ortheris, "tweren't this 'ere Colonel's daughter, an' you was blazin' copped when you tried to wash in the Fort Ditch." "That," said Mulvaney, finishing the champagne, "is a shuparfluous an' impert'nint observation."
A bullet whistled past either ear, and he tumbled back into the tender, barking several fresh places on his sore body. "Wots the use?" he growled. "They don't understand. . . . Lidysmith don't 'elp none if they 'it me, though she's orl right for for tradition. I better lie low an' stop gassin' 'istory. . . . Any'ow, 'Uggins wouldn't sound right in 'istory."
They had reached that flagged area without covering or inclosure, before the third of the three old market-houses, where those dealers in the entire miscellanies of a housewife's equipment, excepting only stoves and furniture, spread their wares and fabrics in the open weather before the Bazar market rose to give them refuge. He grew suddenly fierce. "But any'ow I don't care!
Always I scrub me any'ow till I come to the skin. Also I'll put a clean shirt. You can wait? I'll leave you this book." Chester waited. When presently, with Scipion still picturesque though clean-shirted, they left the shop together, he gave the book a word of praise that set its owner off on the history of his craft.
"Wot's the use o' worritin' 'bout these things?" said Ortheris. "You're bound to find all out quicker nor you want to, any'ow." He jerked the cartridge out of the breech-block into the palm of his hand. "Ere's my chaplain," he said, and made the venomous black-headed bullet bow like a marionette. "'E's goin' to teach a man all about which is which, an' wot's true, after all, before sundown.
Any'ow, I 'ope 'e won't come along 'ere." "I'd like to 'ave a look at 'im," said the young man at the bar recklessly, and added, "I seen the Princess." "D'you think they'll 'urt 'im?" said the barmaid. "May 'ave to," said the young man at the bar, finishing his glass. Amidst a hum of ten million such sayings young Caddies came to London...
"I 'm I 'm under arrest or something up here," was added with a laugh. "The guard won't let me come down." "Wait, and I 'll raise the bucket for you. All right, guard!" Then, blinking with surprise, he turned to the staring Harry. "It's Anita Richmond," he whispered. Harry pawed for his mustache. "On a night like this? And what the bloody 'ell is she doing 'ere, any'ow?" "Search me!"
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