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Updated: June 27, 2025
"'You'll blow me head off, I sez, throwin' my arm clear; 'go through under my arm-pit, ye bloodthirsty little scutt, sez I, 'but don't shtick me or I'll wring your ears round. "Fwhat was ut ye gave the Paythan man for-ninst me, him that cut at me whin I cudn't move hand or foot? Hot or cowld was ut?" "Cold," said Ortheris, "up an' under the rib-jint. 'E come down flat. Best for you 'e did."
He had theories about the Army, and colored clay pipes perfectly. He said that the young soldier is the best to work with, "on account av the surpassing innocinse av the child." "Now, listen!" said Mulvaney, throwing himself full length on the wall in the sun. "I'm a born scutt av the barrick-room! The Army's mate an' dhrink to me, bekaze I'm wan av the few that can't quit ut.
There's nothing like opin-speakin'. Orth'ris, ye scutt, let me put me oi to that bottle, for my throat's as dhry as whin I thought I wud get a kiss from Annie Bragin. An' that's fourteen years gone! Eyah! Cork's own city an' the blue sky above ut an' the times that was the times that was!"
"'Say your own part av ut, then, Terence, darlin', sez she; 'for begad I'm thinkin' I've said too much or too little for an honest girl, an' wid that she put her arms round my neck an' kissed me. "'There's no more to be said afther that, sez I, kissin' her back again Oh the mane scutt that I was, my head ringin' wid Dinah Shadd!
Tatt of as many prospective six-and-eight-pences as possible. Waving his hand solemnly, when Mat had done speaking, he said: "Wait a moment, sir," then rang a bell and ordered in his head clerk. "Now, Mr. Scutt," said Mr. Nawby, loftily addressing the clerk, "have the goodness to be a witness in the first place, that I protest against this visit on Mr.
Wan day had I been in London, sor wan day only, an' a low scutt thried to poison me dhrink; next day some udther thief av sin shoved me off av a railway platform undher a train, malicious and purposeful; glory be, he didn't kill me! but the very docther that felt me bones thried to pick me pockut, I du b'lieve.
Go inside, an' dhrink tay out av chiny in the drrrrawin'-room, an' thin we'll dhrink like Christians undher the tree here. Scutt, ye naygur-folk! There's a Sahib come to call on me, an' that's more than he'll iver do for you onless you run! Get out, an' go on pilin' up the earth, quick, till sundown.
For the hanner an' glory av all Dhraghoons, of the Ould Seconds, and of me pore bed-ridden frind, Patsy Flannigan, ye must go an' plug the wicked scutt, Matty darlint." "It was Flannigan's fault," replied Dam, daubing pipe-clay on the huge cuff of a gauntlet which he had drawn on to a weird-looking wooden hand, sacred to the purposes of glove-drying.
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