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"Put them in your pocket," she said, "and be sure to post them very carefully." "I posts a good few 'ereabouts, and no complaints," smiled Larkin. "So nothing's wanted?" There was a note of sadness in the last question. "Well, perhaps I could do with a tin of sponge fingers," said Miss Bibby softening.

When they had a trench of ample size to bury the chest, Tarrant suggested that they enlarge it and inter Snipes' body on top of the chest. "It might 'elp fool any as 'appened to be diggin' 'ereabouts," he explained.

A benevolent-looking middle-aged lady a district visitor, in fact emerging from one of these houses and arrested perhaps at sight of the crutch or of the boy's strange rags, stopped her and asked where she was going. Tilda fell back on the truth. It was economical. "To the 'orspital," she answered, "the Good Samaritan." Then she blundered. "It's 'ereabouts, ain't it, ma'am?"

The roof of the shed in which they stood had been made unusually high in order to contain them. "Well, I s'pose the big 'ammer that Bob says is as 'eavy as five carts of coals must be 'ereabouts?" observed Mrs Marrot looking round. "Yes, there it is," said Will, pointing in front of him. "W'ere? I don't see no 'ammer."

'Maid's Grave' us calls et, 'ereabouts." Ashurst held out his pouch. "Have a fill?" The old man touched his hat again, and slowly filled an old clay pipe. His eyes, looking upward out of a mass of wrinkles and hair, were still quite bright. "If yu don' mind, zurr, I'll zet down my leg's 'urtin' a bit today." And he sat down on the mound of turf. "There's always a flower on this grave.

"I'm jolted sufficient an' the ground's danged 'ard 'ereabouts! An' wot's more why, burn my neck it's Anna!" he broke off and pointed with stubby finger. Turning about, I beheld Diana on the other side of the hedge. And she was looking at me!

"Gray's Inn is 'andiest, sir, and I must ask you to step out a bit, they're a rough crowd as lives 'ereabouts, scamps an' hunters, didlers an' cly-fakers, so I must ask you to step out a bit, this is a bad country for me." "Bad for you? Why?" "On account o' windictiveness, sir!" "Of what?"

I dessay it'll wear off, all right; but oh, Mr. Bossom " "Would you mind callin' me Sam? It's more ushual." "Oh, Mr. Sam, this mornin' I'm feelin' it all over. If I got a pailful out o' the canal, now?" "I wouldn' recommend it not 'ereabouts." Sam, eyeing her with his head cocked slightly aside, spoke gently as one coaxing a victim of the drink habit.