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Updated: May 24, 2025
An' it yowlt o' th' way as they went, like a naughty lad bein' turn't out of a reawm for cryin'. Th' parson waited till it wur gone; an' then he went on wi' th' sarvice. When they set th' organ down i'th chapel yard, owd Pudge wiped his for-yed, an' he said, 'By th' mass, Dick, thae'll get th' bag for this job. 'Whau, what for, said Dick. 'Aw 've no skill of sich like squallin' boxes as this.
He, Madam! though he be but a Banker's Prentice, Madam, he's as pretty a Fellow of his Inches as any i'th' City he has made love in Dancing-Schools, and to Ladies of Quality in the middle Gallery, and shall joke ye and repartee with any Fore-man within the Walls prithee to her and commend me, I'll give thee a new Point Crevat. Dia. He looks as if he cou'd not speak to me. Bea.
I'th' utmost Borders of the Earth I'll find thee Seas shall not hide thee, nor vast Mountains guard thee: Even in the depth of Hell I'll find thee out, And lash thy filthy and adulterous Soul. Sir Feeb. Oh! I am dead, I'm dead; will no Repentence save me? 'twas that young Eye that tempted me to sin; Oh! Bel.
There's some folk can sit i'th heawse an' send their childer to prow eawt a-beggin' in a mornin', regilar, but eawr childer wouldn't do it, an', iv they would, aw wouldn' let 'em, naw, not iv we were clemmin' to deeoth, to my thinkin'." The woman was quite right.
You shall heare more on't: When thou art married, if the kind charity Of other men permitt thee to geet thee children That call thy wife mother, bring them up To people shopps and cheat for 18d, The pretious youth that fathers them. Walke, walke, you and your Captaine Huff to London, And tell thy mother how thou has't sped i'th country, And let her moane thee. Crac.
It wur a bonny come off if a chap that had been a noted bass-singer five-and-forty year, an' could tutor a claronet wi' ony mon i' Rosenda Forest, couldn't manage a box-organ, beawt bein' teyched wi' a parson. So they gav him th' keys, and leet him have his own road. Well, o' Sunday forenoon, as soon as th' first hymn wur gan out, Dick whisper't round to th' folk i'th singin'-pew, 'Now for't!
Hum hum very noble, i'faith, we'll e'en confess our loves too, Isabella. Isa. S'life, he'll spoil all, hold pray let your Betters be serv'd before you. Guil. How! Is the Honour of my Love despised? wer't not i'th presence of the Great Turk, for whom I have a reverence because he's a man of quality by Jove, I'd draw upon you. Isa. Because you were my Lover once, when I'm Queen I'll pardon you.
How, another his Name, his Name, Madam here's Ned and I fear ne'er a single Man i'th' Nation, What is he what is he? Dia. A Fop, a Fool, a beaten Ass a Blockhead. Bea. What a damn'd Shame's this, that Women shou'd be sacrificed to Fools, and Fops must run away with Heiresses whilst we Men of Wit and Parts dress and dance, and cock and travel for nothing but to be tame Keepers. Dia.
"Let's have a look at th' opposite side yonder; an' then we'll come back, an' you'll see th' men drop work when the five minutes' bell rings. There's many of 'em live so far off that they couldn't well get whoam an' back in an hour; so, we give'em an hour an' a half to their dinner, now, an' they work half an' hour longer i'th afternoon."
Shorrock's th' paymaister, under th' Guardians, But, then, he nobbut went accordin' to orders, yo known. At last, th' Board sattle't that they mut be paid for weet and dry, -an' there's bin quietness sin'. They wortchen fro eight till five; an', sometimes, when they'n done, they drilln o' together i'th road yon just like sodiurs an' then they walken away i' procession.
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