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Updated: June 9, 2025
I believe he'd give her poison an' risk it any day, if only I promised to marry him afterwards. Then there was a feller called Jeck Bartley. I set him an' Bob fightin' one Bank-holiday you should a' seen 'em go at it! Jack went an' got married a year ago to a girl called Suke Jollop; her mother forced him. How I did laugh!
'It's a lie! Clem's epithet was too vigorous for reproduction. 'Sukey Jollop saw you with her down by the meat-market, an' Jeck Bartley saw you too. 'Jeck did? He laughed with obstreperous scorn. 'Why, Jeck's gone to Homerton to his mother till Saturday night. Don't be such a bloomin' fool!
The tears were running down the pale face of Miss Arnold, and the dead-wagon man was in a perfect fever of excitement, but he did not speak till she raised her eyes from the letter, when he spluttered out: "Lor' bless you, Missus Agonyness, I hope there ain't no Yaller Jeck in that there letter. But you looks orful sick." "I want to go to where you got this letter at once."
I took a lesson frae Jeck the giant-killer, wi' the Welsh giant was 't Blunderbore they ca'd him? an' poored the maist o' my glaiss doon my breist. It wasna like ink; it wadna du my sark ony ill. 'But what garred ye gang wi' 'im at a'? He wasna fit company for a gentleman. 'A gentleman 's some saft gin he be ony the waur o' the company he gangs in till. There may be rizzons, ye ken.
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