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Updated: June 4, 2025
Kybird shook his head over the idea that there would soon be one open-handed gentleman the less in a world which was none too full of them. "We've all got to go some day," observed Mr. Kybird, philosophically. "'Ow's that cough o' yours getting on, Nat?" Mr.
Nickie advanced carelessly, and intercepted them. He bowed grotesquely. "Good day, Billy," he said, familiarly. He lifted his hat pointedly to the lady. "'Ow's yerself Jinny?" he asked. The lady and gentleman stared at him in utmost astonishment for a moment, then consternation seized them, and they made a dive for the vehicle. Nickie followed to the door.
There was only the swift rattling of mail cars running to the Post Office, the heavy clank of country carts crawling to Covent Garden, the measured tread of policemen, and the muddled laughter of drunken men and women by the coffee stands at the street corners. "'Ow's the deluge, myte? Not come off yet? Well, give us a cup of cawfee on the strength of it."
He was living again. "They couldn't make nothing of it, and drew back a bit. "'What! cries the Genelman, laughin. 'A round dozen of you, and wopp'd by one! I wonder what Black Diamond'd think o you? "At that Fat George truss Dingy Joe by the arms. "'Ow's this? he squeals, and runs him on the Genelman's blade, dodgin back himself into Red Beard's arms.
"I'd understood yesterday as she was going to the openin' of a bazaar this afternoon openin' by royalty; but I got my orders this morning to fill up the tank and come along at once, 'cos she was going out into the country. 'Ow's that ferret of mine going on?" "First class," said the gardener.
"Give em the glory o God! Give em the Lord's own delight!" He was hounding at the heels of the last smuggler, and the Gentleman was hounding at his. "Ow's that-a-tat-tat? ow's that?" cried Knapp, racing up from behind, and came down with a flourish and a thump on the swordsman's head as he thrust. Down went the Gentleman in sprawling ruin.
'Ow's a honest tradesman to make a living when there's people like that about? "I stood 'im 'arf a pint, and though it hurt 'im awful to drink it, he said 'ed 'ave another just to see if he could bear the pain. Arter he had 'ad three 'e began for to take a more cheerful view o' life, and told me about a chap that spent three weeks in the London 'Orsepittle for calling 'im a liar.
See wot I mean?" I said that I did. "An' another thing; talk like 'em." I confessed that this might prove to be rather a large contract. "'Ard? S'y! 'Ere! If I 'ad you fer a d'y, I'd 'ave you talkin' like a born Lunnoner! All you got to do is forget all them aitches. An' you don't want to s'y 'can't, like that. S'y 'cawrn't." I said it. "Now s'y, 'Gor blimy, 'Arry, 'ow's the missus?" I did.
They bowed sarcastically, and said, "'Ow's your Royal 'Ighness?" when they met; but Nelly hardly heeded them. The long wish had taken shape at last, she was going to be a lady. Summer ended. There was no more boating, but there were still long walks and excursions. The apprenticeship was over, and Nelly was now a regular hand, and farther advanced than many who had worked a year or two.
Without salutation he dropped on the turf two paces off and remarked "It's bleedin' 'ot." There was just a pause while he cast his eyes back on the country he had travelled; then, jerking his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the port, he inquired "'Ow's the old lot?" Said I, "Look here; you're Dick Jago. How far have you walked to-day?"
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