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Updated: May 22, 2025
I ax yer parding for the mistake, but there's sitch a mixin' up o' Brutes an' Brookes, an' Butts an' Bucks, that it comes hard o' a man o' no edication to speak of to take it all in. This gen'leman, Mr Brute, 'e said if 'e was hout w'en I called I was to wait, an' say you was to make tea for two, an' 'ave it laid in the bedroom as 'e'd require the parlour for the mill."
Ha! ha! is it possible?" "Hout, Master Marmaduke," answered Nicholas, "every crow thinks his own baird bonniest, as they say in the North. We will talk of this anon an' thou wilt honour me. I suspect the archery is over now. Few will think to mend that shot."
The 'ead bridge man 'as bin preachin' to me ever since 'e 'ired me, hand we made hup the gang in New York, to look hout hand keep my men from bein' enlisted. Say, youngster, his yours a good regiment?" "The very best in the army," unhesitatingly as serted Shorty. "All free-born American citizens, and high-toned gentlemen. I tell you, they're daisies, they are."
Life, fortune, all that is dear and precious and useful to man, we will resign for the highest of blessings." "Ay," said Van der Werff, loudly and earnestly, while Van Hout impetuously repeated: "Yes, yes, thrice yes." The three men, so united in feeling, grasped each other's hands firmly for a moment.
"They are to be trusted," said Van der Werff, "firmly trusted." "And because I know them," cried Van Hout, "we shall conquer, with God's assistance, come what may." Janus Dousa had been looking into his glass.
This was the wife of Herr Van Hout, the city clerk, but the latter rarely appeared in company, for though a delicate, aristocratic-looking woman, she was obliged to be busy from morning till night, to keep the children and household in good order on a narrow income.
The "hurrah," led by the Burgomaster, was given to the Prince, and Janus Dousa followed it by a toast to the independence and liberty of their native land. Van Hout devoted a glass to the memory of the days of trouble, and the city's marvellous deliverance.
"A dreadful rumour," the letter ended, "has reached us here in Spain that you have taken to wife a Dutch lady at Leyden named Van Hout, but this I do not believe, since never could you have committed such a crime before God and man. Write, write at once, my son, and disperse this black cloud of scandal which is gathering on your honoured and ancient name."
"Thank you, my son," said the clown, taking the chair with one hand and patting the boy's head with the other; "this, ladies and gents," he added in a parenthetical tone, "is my son; he's bin burnt hout of 'ouse an' 'ome, too! Now, then, who bids for the old harm-chair? the wery identical harm-chair that the song was written about.
Even street-boys felt that references to "bobbies," "coppers," and "slops;" questions as to how 'is 'ead felt up there; who rolled 'im hout so long; whether his mother knew 'e was hout; whether 'e'd sell 'em a bit of 'is legs; with advice to come down off the ladder, or to go 'ome to bed that all these were utterly thrown away and lost upon Giles Scott.
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