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Updated: June 19, 2025
"He ayn't no gentleman," said the Bishop; "he's my brother: but I tell you what, I'll do something for him now. I'm cock of the walk you see, and that's a sort of thing that don't come twice in a man's life. One should feel for one's flesh and blood, and if I find him out I'll make his fortune, or my name is not Simon Hatton."
"The old man'll be wantin' yer on deck, an' this ayn't no d'y to fall foul of 'im." Johnson turned obediently to the door, at the same time, over the cook's shoulder, favouring me with an amazingly solemn and portentous wink as though to emphasize his interrupted remark and the need for me to be soft-spoken with the captain.
"I will not taunt you," said his wife in a kinder tone. "I was wrong; I am sorry; but I am very ill. It is not for myself I speak; I want not to eat; I have no appetite; my lips are so very parched. But the children, the children went supperless to bed, and they will wake soon." "Mother, we ayn't asleep," said the elder girl.
"They always bark for a day or two after they're bit, if the infection comes first from the dog." "You are surely not speaking of hydrophobia," said I, my hair actually bristling with horror and consternation. "Ayn't I?" replied he; "may be you've guessed it though." "And have you the malady on you at present?" said I, trembling for the answer.
Tell him I hope he has got plenty of money to travel into Wales, for he won't have no work in England again, or my name ayn't Diggs. Who's pushing there? I'll be among you; I'll close the shop. If I do get hold of some of you cussed women, you shan't forget it. If anybody will tell me who is pushing there, they shall have their bacon for seven-pence. Will nobody have bacon for seven-pence?
'Mugridge, sez 'e to me, 'Mugridge, sez 'e, 'you've missed yer vokytion. 'An' 'ow's that? sez I. 'Yer should 'a been born a gentleman, an' never 'ad to work for yer livin'. God strike me dead, 'Ump, if that ayn't wot 'e sez, an' me a-sittin' there in 'is own cabin, jolly-like an' comfortable, a-smokin' 'is cigars an' drinkin' 'is rum." This chitter-chatter drove me to distraction.
Wrenn as a housewife does a cockroach in the salad-bowl. Mr. Wrenn was bored. This seemed a very poor sort of man; a bloated Cockney, with a dirty neck-cloth, vile cuffs of grayish black, and a waistcoat cut foolishly high. "The owner said I could sleep here," he snapped. "Ow. 'E did, did 'e? 'E ayn't been giving you any of the perishin' 'osses, too, 'as 'e?"
"Look 'ere, 'Ump," he began, a malicious light in his eyes and a snarl in his throat; "d'ye want yer nose punched? If you think I'm a thief, just keep it to yerself, or you'll find 'ow bloody well mistyken you are. Strike me blind if this ayn't gratitude for yer!
There's a file what don't sing; can't deceive my ear; I know all their voices. Don't let me find that un out, or I won't walk into him, won't I? Ayn't you lucky boys, to have reg'lar work like this, and the best of prog! It worn't my lot, I can tell you that. Give me that shut, you there, Scrubbynose, can't you move? Look sharp, or I won't move you, won't I? Steady, steady! All right!
He controlled himself with an effort and added supplicatingly: "Oh, sir, you ayn't agoing to see it go to H'Australia, w'ere they send convic's?" He unpinned and flung aside the sheets as though to let Phaedra plead for herself. MacMaster sat down again and looked sadly at the doomed masterpiece. The notion of James having carried it across London that night rather appealed to his fancy.
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