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Updated: May 13, 2025
And say, after he'd finished his play and was about ready to be tucked into his crib, what does the young jollier do but climb up in Auntie's lap and cuddle down folksy, all on his own motion. "Do you like your old Auntie, Richard?" she asks, smoothin' his red curls gentle. "Uh-huh," says 'Ikky-boy, blinkin' up at her mushy. "Oo's a swell Auntie." Are we back in the will again? I'll guess we are.
"Oh, hush, Jinny" said Polly, grieved at this thrust into Tilly's open wound. "Well, it's true. Oh, look 'ere now, there's not a drop o' water in this blessed jug again. 'Oo's week is it to fill it? Tilly B., it's yours!" "Serves you right. You can fetch it yourself." "Think I see myself!" Polly intervened. "I'll go for it, Jinny." "What a little duck you are, Poll! But you shan't go alone.
"Nat Assy Gaale?" he said. "Assy Gaale? 'Oo's she to mook 'er naame with 'er dirty toongue?" "Yo'll not goa far thot road, Jimmy. 'Tis wi' t' womenfawlk yo'll 'aave t' racken." He knew it. The first he had to reckon with was Maggie. Maggie, being given notice, had refused to take it. "Yo' can please yoresel, Mr. Greatorex. I can goa. I can goa.
Hodges opened the door. It was Jim. He was very white, and the blackness of his hair and beard, contrasting with the deathly pallor of his face, made him look ghastly. Mrs. Hodges stepped back. ''Oo's 'e? she said, turning to Mrs. Kemp. Jim pushed her aside and went up to the bed. 'Doctor, is she very bad? he asked. The doctor looked at him questioningly. Jim whispered: 'It was me as done it.
"An' 'oo's ter blame fer that?" she cried, "a feller that oughter be gittin' 'is three pounds a week. W'y, look at Dave Brown. Don't I remember the time 'e used ter 'awk a basket o' fish on Fridays, an' doss in park? An' now 'e goes round in a white shirt, an' draws 'is rents. An' mark me, it was gittin' married did that fer 'im.
But you'll let her know, won't you, miss?... "Think 'ow good you was to your old father down in Wales, 'im as you called your father an' 'oo's to say 'e wasn't? You never know.... Miss Warren! what a pity it is you never married. There's lots was sweet on you, I'll bet.
"Bend over: you never know oo's listening." Mavis did as she was asked. "It's Mr Poulter can't you guess?" faltered Miss Nippett. "Tell me, dear." "I b'lieve I love him: reely I do. Don't laugh." "Why should I?" "There was nothing in it don't run away thinking there was but how could there be, 'im so great and noble and famous, and me "
Strike me dead if you didn'!" Tilda fetched a grip on herself; but the hand, its fingers closing on air, drew back and dropped, as though cut off from the galvanising current. She had even presence of mind to note that the other hand the hand on which the body propped itself, still half-erect, wore a plain ring of gold. "You talked a lot about 'Olmness and Arthur. 'Oo's Arthur?"
Does Desus carry de little chil'en in his arms like oo do, Don? Me's so comf'able. Me loves Desus." The little arm, soft and warm, crept closer around his neck, while the golden curls swept his cheek. "Oo's my bootiful man, Don. Me'll marry oo when me gets big," and then, all unconscious of the sorrow which should greet her in the morning, the baby slept.
"Mebbe she would 'ave if she'd 'ad the chanst," was the reply. "But she didn't 'ave time to say no more afore the Reveille interrupted 'er, an' I 'ad to turn out." The Quartermaster of the Morning Watch concluded his repast. "Well," he said, "Mebbe she'll tell you the rest to-night. Then we'll know 'oo's 'oo, as the sayin' is.
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