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Updated: June 3, 2025
"Here, my fine fellow," says I to the coachman, who was standing very respectful, holding his hat in one hand and Jemmy's jewel-case in the other "Here, my fine chap," says I, "here's six shillings for you;" for I did not care for the money. "Six what?" says he. "Six shillings, fellow," shrieks Jemmy, "and twice as much as your fare." "Feller, marm!" says this insolent coachman.
The consequence was, as the evening was clear, that there was a very numerous assemblage upon the forecastle of the cutter Yungfrau. "Flog Jemmy," said Bill Spurey. "Why, Jemmy's a hofficer." "To be sure he is," observed another; "and quite as good a one as Vanslyperken himself, though he don't wear brass on his hat." "D n it what next heh, Coble?" Coble hitched up his trousers.
It was often wanted of him, for whenever anybody spoke a syllable to me I says "Non-comprenny, you're very kind, but it's no use Now Jemmy!" and then Jemmy he fires away at 'em lovely, the only thing wanting in Jemmy's French being as it appeared to me that he hardly ever understood a word of what they said to him which made it scarcely of the use it might have been though in other respects a perfect Native, and regarding the Major's fluency I should have been of the opinion judging French by English that there might have been a greater choice of words in the language though still I must admit that if I hadn't known him when he asked a military gentleman in a gray cloak what o'clock it was I should have took him for a Frenchman born.
And my lord pulled my dear Jemmy's gown in the kindest and most familiar way, she trotting on after him, mightily pleased to be so taken notice of, and I after her. A little boy went running across the green. "Who is it, Petitoes?" screams my lord. "Turk and the barber," pipes Petitoes, and runs to the pastry-cook's like mad. "Turk and the ba ," laughs out my lord, looking at us.
"Spake for Jemmy, some of you, as the poor man isn't able to spake for himself." "Why, the case was this," said a neighbor of the poor man's. "Jemmy's son, Peter, was abused by Phil, the boy, because he didn't pay him duty-work, and neglect his own harvest. He told Peter that he was a Popish rebel and would be hanged.
It was in pedestrianism that Jemmy most felt his inferiority, and the protecting, fond way in which Moggy would turn round every minute and say, "Come along, my duck," would have been irritating to any other but one of Jemmy's excellent temper.
Jemmy's talk about my altered looks the reflection in the shop-windows the sudden gloom after the dazzling sunlight that's all, that's all. Sleep, I want sleep."
"What's this, Short?" observed Coble: "here is a new freak; we start at midnight, I hear." "Yes," replied Short. "Something quite new, any how: don't understand it, do you?" "No," replied Dick. "Well, now Jemmy's gone, I don't care how soon I follow, Dick." "Nor I," replied Short. "I've a notion there's some mystery in all this.
My wife wore a coronet, modelled exactly after that of Queen Catharine, in "Henry V.;" a tight gilt jacket, which set off dear Jemmy's figure wonderfully, and a train of at least forty feet. Dear Jemimarann was in white, her hair braided with pearls. Madame de Flicflac appeared as Queen Elizabeth; and Lady Blanche Bluenose as a Turkish princess.
And I don't mind telling you, in confidence, that I was so frightened that I took out the sovereign and gave it. My man and Jemmy's maid had disappeared by this time: they always do when there's a robbery or a row going on. I was going after them. "Stop, Mr.
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