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We call it Silver's Theayter. You know that, sure!" "Silver's Theatre so 'twas, A gut betune two hills, as black as a bucket, an' as thin as a girl's waist. There was over-many Paythans for our convaynience in the gut, an' begad they called thimselves a Reserve bein' impident by natur! Our Scotchies an' lashins av Gurkys was poundin' into some Paythan rig'mints, I think 'twas.
A gut betune two hills, as black as a bucket, an' as thin as a girl's waist. There was over-many Paythans for our convaynience in the gut, an' begad they called thimselves a Reserve bein' impident by nature! Our Scotchies an' lashins av Gurkeys was poundin' into some Paythan rig'mints, I think 'twas.
"Oh, we 'ad a bit of a scrap down Limehouse way with some Scotchies. Peter got a crack over the 'ead at the same time." "Ah, I've 'ad a bit of a scrap, too," ses Sam, smiling all over, "but I didn't get marked." "Oh!" ses Peter, without looking up from 'is paper. "Was it a little boy, then?" ses Ginger.
"Well, evenshually we buried our dead an' tuk away our wounded, an' come over the brow av the hills to see the Scotchies an' the Gurkys taking tay with the Paythans in bucketsfuls. We were a gang av dissolute ruffians, for the blood had caked the dust, an' the sweat had cut the cake, an' our bay'nits was hangin' like butchers' steels betune ur legs, an' most av us were marked one way or another.
Scotchies an' Gurkys are twins bekaze they're so onlike, an' they get dhrunk together whin God plazes. As I was sayin', they sint wan comp'ny av the Ould an wan av the Tyrone to double up the hill an' clane out the Paythan Reserve.
Scotchies an' Gurkeys are twins bekaze they're so onlike an' they get dhrunk together whin God plazes. As I was sayin', they sint wan comp'ny av the Ould an' wan of the Tyrone to double up the hill an' clane out the Paythan Reserve.
"Oh, we 'ad a bit of a scrap down Limehouse way with some Scotchies. Peter got a crack over the 'ead at the same time." "Ah, I've 'ad a bit of a scrap, too," ses Sam, smiling all over, "but I didn't get marked." "Oh!" ses Peter, without looking up from 'is paper. "Was it a little boy, then?" ses Ginger.
The inhabitants line the pavement and smile cheerfully upon us they are always kindly disposed toward "Scotchies" but the united gaze of the rank and file wanders instinctively from the pavement towards upper windows and kitchen entrances, where the domestic staff may be discerned, bunched together and giggling. Now we are out on the road again, silent and dusty.
'Well, evenshually we buried our dead an' tuk away our wounded, an' come over the brow av the hills to see the Scotchies an' the Gurkeys taking tay with the Paythans in bucketsfuls. We were a gang av dissolute ruffians, for the blood had caked the dust, an' the sweat had cut the cake, an' our bay'nits was hangin' like butchers' steels betune ur legs, an' most av us were marked one way or another.
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