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Put this job through as shippin'-master, and thin go on wid me as runner. Shake hands." They shook, Murphy joyous and forgiving, Hennesey cold, suspicious, and unforgiving. A handshake is a poor auditing of a fist blow. "Whin does Williams want his min?" asked Murphy. "In two weeks, about. Twinty-four able seamen." "Thot's good.
"Why, there's nearly three fires, on the average, every twinty-four hours in London, an' that's about a thousand fires in the year, ma'am." "Are you sure of what you say, fireman?" "Quite sure, ma'am; ye can ax Mr Braidwood if ye don't b'lieve me." Mrs Denman, still in a state of blank amazement, said that she did not doubt him, and bade him go on.
She took a long look at Johnny, who was dressed even more carefully than if it were a pleasant Sunday. "This don't be your train, annyway," she answered, in a meditative tone. "How come you here now all so fine, I 'd like to know, riding in the cars like a lord; ain't you brakeman yet on old twinty-four?" "'Deed I am, Mrs. Ryan; you would n't be afther grudging a boy his day off? Where's Nora?"
'D'ye know that I can cross th' ocean in six days, an' won't; that if annything doesn't happen in Chiny I can larn about it in twinty-four hours if I care to know; that if ye was in Wash'nton I cud call ye up be tillyphone an ye'er wire'd be busy? I says. 'I do not, says Thomas Jefferson. 'Thin, says I, 'don't presume to advise me, I says, 'that knows these things an' manny more, I says.
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