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Updated: June 8, 2025
He's quite a young colt, sir, only 'alf broke kicks like a windmill, sir, and's got an 'ead like a steam-engine; 'e couldn't 'old 'im in no'ow, sir. I 'ad 'im down to the smith t'other day, sir, an' says 'e to me, says 'e, `That's a screamer, that is. `Yes, says I, `that his a fact. `Well, says 'e "
Badsey people can in these modern times point with pride to a much higher standard of civilization, and they fully recognize that "'Eave 'alf a brick at his 'ead; Bill," is a method of welcome to a stranger not considered precisely etiquette at the present day.
They're more like food for pigs, and I've known the day when Chaffey's 'ud have thrown 'em at the 'ead of anybody as delivered 'em such offal. It isn't a place for a self-respecting man, and I feel it more and more. If a shop-boy wants to take out his sweetheart and make a pretence of doing it grand, where does he go to? Why, to Chaffey's.
"Come, Tom," cried one of the company, "knock 'is 'ead off to begin with." "Ay, set about 'm, Tom cut your gab an' finish 'im," and here came the clatter of chairs as the company rose. "Can't be done," said Cragg, shaking his head, "leastways not 'ere." "I'm not particular," said I, "if you prefer, we might manage it very well in the stable with a couple of lanthorns."
But they've cost me a good deal, an' somehow they ain't quite what they used to be. They used to make me merry for a while, now and then; but they've taken now to burnin' up my inside, an' filling my 'ead with devils; an' I'm gettin' afeard of 'em, an' they'll 'ave to see me through to the end. "Fifty year," he resumed, after another interval of brooding, "an' not one 'appy day.
"They're going to amuse theirselves, I expect," ses Sam "music-'alls and such-like." Mr. Goodman shook his 'ead at 'em. "Music-'alls ain't so bad as some people try to make out," ses Sam. "Look 'ere; I took some drink to see what the flavor was like; suppose you go to a music-'all to see wot that's like?" "It seems on'y fair," ses Peter's uncle, considering.
Wot about going and 'aving a look for it?" Sam shook his 'ead at fust, but arter turning the thing over in his mind, and 'aving another look at the bill, and copying down the name and address for luck, 'e said p'r'aps they might as well walk that way as anywhere else. "Something seems to tell me we've got a chance," ses the man, as they stepped outside.
There's a couple o' chaps down 'ere I'm told off to look arter special, but it's no good unless I can catch 'em red-'anded." "Red-'anded?" ses Sam. "With their hands in the chap's pockets, I mean," ses the tec. Sam gave a shiver. "Somebody had their 'ands in my pockets once," he ses. "Four pun ten and some coppers they got." "Wot was they like?" ses the tee, starting. Sam shook his 'ead.
"I wouldn't mind going in to oblige you," ses Bob Pretty, "but the pond is so full o' them cold, slimy efts; I don't fancy them crawling up agin me, and, besides that, there's such a lot o' deep holes in it. And wotever you do don't put your 'ead under; you know 'ow foul that water is." Keeper Lewis pretended not to listen to 'im.
"Open it and see what number it is, Mr. Smith," ses Bob Pretty. "Twenty- three, I expect; I never 'ave no luck." Smith rolled out the paper, and then 'e turned pale and 'is eyes seemed to stick right out of his 'ead. "He's won it!" he ses, in a choky voice. "It's Number I. Bob Pretty 'as won the prize."
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