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Machin, the engine-man, standing at the door of the slip-house, caught their attention and suggested a plan full of joyous possibilities. They gathered round the lad, and, talking in subdued murmurs, unanimously urged him with many persuasions to a certain course of action. He declined the scheme, and declined again. Suddenly a boy shouted: 'Thee dars' na'!
Eli Machin was the prince of engine-men. From his post in the slip-house he watched over the whole works like a father, stern, gruff, forbidding, but to be trusted absolutely. He was sixty years old, and had been 'putting by' for nearly half a century.
'I dare, was the drawled, smiling answer. 'I tell thee thee dars' na'! 'I tell thee I dare. And thereupon he slowly but resolutely set out for the slip-house door and Mr. Machin.
The challenged lad in Mynors' yard slowly approached the slip-house door, and halted before Eli Machin, grinning. 'Well, young un, the old man said absently, 'what dost want? 'Tiddy-fol-lol, grandfeyther, the child drawled in his silly, irritating voice, and added: 'They said I darena say it to ye.
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