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Updated: April 30, 2025
"Oh, would he?" cried Rosemary, a bright colour flaming on her little soft cheeks. "Yes; and what's more," went on her hostess, warming to the subject, "you'd know 'im, the hinstant you clapped heyes on his fice, by 'eaven-sent hinstinct." "What's 'eaven-sent hinstinct?" demanded Rosemary. "The feelin' you 'ave in your 'eart for a father, wot's planted there by Providence," explained Jane.
"When she wakes in the mornin' she ses to 'erself, 'Good things is goin' to come to-day cheerfle things. When there's a knock at the door she ses, 'Somethin' friendly's comin' in. An' when Drunken Bet's makin' a row an' ragin' an' tearin' an' threatenin' to 'ave 'er eyes out of 'er fice, she ses, 'Lor, Bet, yer don't mean a word of it yer a friend to every woman in the 'ouse. When she don't know which way to turn, she stands still an' ses, 'Speak, Lord, thy servant 'eareth, an' then she does wotever next comes into 'er mind an' she says it's allus the right answer.
'Sit down, fice! roared the pleasure-seekers. Psmith sat down with a patient smile. Mr Bickersdyke resumed his speech. But the fire had gone out of it. He had lost his audience. Now he had lost his hold. He spoke on rapidly, but he could not get into his stride. The trivial interruption had broken the spell. His words lacked grip.
'Puddin' fice! she cried. 'Kite fice! 'Boss eye! She was tremendously excited, laughing and singing, keeping the whole company in an uproar. In her jollity she had changed hats with Tom, and he in her big feathers made her shriek with laughter. When they started they began to sing 'For 'e's a jolly good feller', making the night resound with their noisy voices.
It was a question of our having but an hour or two at Loches, and we could ill afford to sacri- fice to accidents. One of the accidents, however, was that the rain stopped before we got there, leaving be- hind it a moist mildness of temperature and a cool and lowering sky, which were in perfect agreement with the gray old city.
"W'en she comes, I shall tell 'er I've some serious noos for 'er, and she's ter send the kid darn on the grarse ter play. Then I'll pull a long fice and hask 'er ter bear up, and say I'm sorry for 'er, and she mustn't tike it too rough, and all that; and she 'as my sympathy in 'er diserpointment: she ain't ter get 'er widow's pension arter all!"
Don't come to me for nothin' after this. Don't ever you darken my doorstep ag'in, 'e says. And Mr. Bayard, sir, 'e ups and laughs fiendish in 'is own father's fice. 'You've got another guess comin', he mocks 'im open': 'you're in this business as deep as me, 'e says, 'and if you cross me, I'll double-cross you, s'elp me Gawd, and in the newspapers, too. And with that, out 'e went in a rige."
Two hyenas leapt from the grass, ran fifty yards, and turned to look at us. "Good-bye, simba! good-bye, fice!" we cried to them sadly. A little farther we saw zebra, and the hartebeeste, and the gazelles. One by one appeared and disappeared again the beasts with which we had grown so familiar during our long months in the jungle.
The remarks from the audience, which had been amusing before, now fairly bristled with wit, mostly of a personal nature. My subject became hotter and hotter as I seized the charcoal pencil and set off. "Wot would Liza say?" called out one in a horrified voice. "Don't smile, mate, yer might 'urt yer fice," called another.
"Now then, 'Obbs, a little Delmonico 'ere. Shove this bacon against your fice, Cameron." "What about yours, sir?" said Cameron, as he sat down to the luxuries which somehow Hobbs had "rustled." "Had it, you slacker." Then with a swift change of voice and manner he added: "Listen to me, Cameron. I'm going to have my prayers. You won't bother me any, and if you don't mind I'll do them out loud.
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